Author's Note: What can I say? 'Tis my first Holes fanfic, and it is about my twitchy one. *cuddles him* How I love my twitchy one.
Disclaimer: I do not own Holes, the characters therein, or Camp Green Lake. The only things I own in this story are Twitch's parents, everything in his old neighborhood, and any members of the Gang except José/Magnet. The rest all belongs to Louis Sachar. Disney fits into the mix somehow. If you feel like suing me, you can't have my copy of Holes, my Newsies DVD, or my Newsie hats and posters. Anything else is up for grabs. "Anything else" consists of socks and lint balls.
Put It In Gear
By Charade O'Falon
Chapter One: Arrival
The bus came to a stop with a squeal of tires, sending up a cloud of reddish-brown dust. Mr. Sir saw it arrive, having slipped as far away from the tents as possible in order to have a smoke. After all those sunflower seeds, it would be an embarassment getting caught smoking again by Pendanski or one of the boys.
Upon the arrival of the bus, Mr. Sir quickly dropped his cigarette and ground it into the dust with his heel. Tilting back his cowboy hat and crossing his arms, he strode over to the parked vehicle. May as well get a look at this new arrival, and instill some intimidation into him real fast. Couldn't have him getting feisty and rebellious, especially not after the recent incident with Zero.
There was little time for planning, however, for at that moment the bus door creaked open. Mr. Sir fixed it with his darkest scowl, which he felt was sure to send even the most hardened delinquent cowering.
And a small dark-haired boy came bouncing down the steps.
Bouncing!
Not only that, but after a double-take, Mr. Sir quickly realized that bouncing was the least of it. The boy was...well, twitching. That was the only word that came to mind to describe the jerky, spasmodic movements of his hands. His fingers, which were, like the fingers of most new arrivals at Camp Green Lake, massaging painfully chafed wrists, kept jerking away from their task, an action which their owner seemed unable to control.
A split second after the kid descended the steps, the guard appeared behind him. When he saw Mr. Sir glaring down at the newcomer, a huge smile lit up his face, and his voice was distinctly filled with relief.
"So yer here ta meet us this time!" he growled cheerfully. "How thoughtful of ya. Go on, take 'im, he's yers!"
And before Mr. Sir could even think to make his usual offer of a Coke, the guard had tossed a thick manilla envelope at him, leapt back up into the bus, and slammed the door shut. It pulled away faster than it ever had before.
There was no time to ponder the guard's eagerness to get away, because of an occurrence coinciding with the departure of the bus. The strange new camper's hands jerked after the noisy yellow monster, clutching at air; and suddenly he was dashing full-speed in pursuit of the bus.
"Hey! Whatcha think yer doin', kid!?" Mr. Sir bellowed in alarm. It took him only a few strides to catch up with the errant boy, but by the time he did, the boy had stopped running. He merely stood watching the dust cloud behind the bus with a vaguely wistful expression on his face...stood perfectly still, except for those endlessly fidgeting hands.
"Sorry," he piped up in a rush when Mr. Sir roughly grabbed his arm and dragged him in the direction of the "initiation tent", as he liked to call it. "Din't mean ta do that. Dunno why I did, really. Guess 'cause I was nervous. Usually I wouldn't get all excited over a wreck like that. These days it mostly takes somethin' real nice, like a Mustang, y'know?"
Reaching the appropriate tent, Mr. Sir shoved the kid inside, entered himself, and rummaged through a trunk to produce one of the usual orange jumpsuits. Tossing it in the direction of his charge, he opened the file the guard had given him and thumbed through it.
"Brian, is it?"
The boy's monologue cut off instantly. The reply was simply a wary, "Yeah."
"Well, Brian, I got some news fer ya. This ain't a Girl Scout camp."
Brian smiled, put on his jumpsuit, and twitched.
Watching him, Mr. Sir shivered slightly. It was time to go into the schpiel about the holes and the rattlesnakes and the yellow-spotted lizards, and considering this greenie's behavior thus far, it was time to lay on the intimidation for all he was worth. He could tell, however, that it wouldn't be as easy as usual. The constant involuntary movement of those hands distracted him, even gave him the creeps.
Brian recognized the expression on the man's face. It was the same one that the guard on the bus had worn. He caught a plastic canteen tossed at him, slung it over his shoulder, and sighed inwardly. The typical reactions were starting already, and he hadn't even met the other "campers" yet.
A/N: Well, whatcha think, eh? You're talkin' to a chica who lives for, eats, sleeps, and breathes reviews. *hint, hint* *nod, nod* *wink, wink*
Much Love,
Charade,
Twitch's One and Only Girl ;-)