And if they ever reached it, he realized, then they’d still have to climb it.
“I wonder who she was,” said Zero.
“Who?”
“Mary Lou,” said Zero.
Stanley smiled. “I guess she was once a real person on a real lake. It’s hard to imagine.”
“I bet she was pretty,” said Zero. “Somebody must have loved her a lot, to name a boat after her.”
“Yeah,” said Stanley. “I bet she looked great in a bathing suit, sitting in the boat while her boyfriend rowed.”
Zero used the shovel as a third leg. Two legs weren’t enough to keep him up. “I got to stop and rest,” he said after a while.
Stanley looked at Big Thumb. It still didn’t look any closer. He was afraid if Zero stopped, he might never get started again. “We’re almost there,” he said.
He wondered which was closer: Camp Green Lake or Big Thumb?
“I really have to sit down.”
“Just see if you can go a little—”
Zero collapsed. The shovel stayed up a fraction of a second longer, perfectly balanced on the tip of the blade, then it fell next to him.
Zero knelt, bent over with his head on the ground. Stanley could hear a very low moaning sound coming from him. He looked at the shovel and couldn’t help but think that he might need it to dig a grave. Zero’s last hole.
And who will dig a grave for me? he thought.
But Zero did get up, once again flashing thumbs-up.
“Give me some words,” he said weakly.
It took Stanley a few seconds to realize what he meant. Then he smiled and said, “R – u – n.”
Zero sounded it out to himself. “Rr-un, run. Run.”
“Good. F – u – n.”
“Fffun.”
The spelling seemed to help Zero. It gave him something to concentrate on besides his pain and weakness.
It distracted Stanley as well. The next time he looked up at Big Thumb, it really did seem closer.
They quit spelling words when it hurt too much to talk. Stanley’s throat was dry. He was weak and exhausted, yet as bad as he felt, he knew that Zero felt ten times worse. As long as Zero could keep going, he could keep going, too.
It was possible, he thought, he hoped, that he didn’t get any of the bad bacteria. Zero hadn’t been able to unscrew the lid. Maybe the bad germs couldn’t get in, either. Maybe the bacteria were only in the jars which opened easily, the ones he was now carrying in his sack.
What scared Stanley the most about dying wasn’t his actual death. He figured he could handle the pain. It wouldn’t be much worse than what he felt now. In fact, maybe at the moment of his death he would be too weak to feel pain. Death would be a relief. What worried him the most was the thought of his parents not knowing what happened to him, not knowing whether he was dead or alive. He hated to imagine what it would be like for his mother and father, day after day, month after month, not knowing, living on false hope. For him, at least, it would be over. For his parents, the pain would never end.
He wondered if the Warden would send out a search party to look for him. It didn’t seem likely. She didn’t send anyone to look for Zero. But no one cared about Zero. They simply destroyed his files.
But Stanley had a family. She couldn’t pretend he was never there. He wondered what she would tell them. And when?
“What do you think’s up there?” Zero asked.
Stanley looked to the top of Big Thumb. “Oh, probably an Italian restaurant,” he said.