There's only one other activity I have knowledge of at Space Camp, but Craig and Kevin still have three more days to go. So this chapter will focus more on events outside of the camp.

On Tuesday, Kevin had his parents drop him off at Space Camp while it was still bright outside. He learned his lesson from the day before to anticipate other campers being really early, so he needed to be even earlier than that or get stuck in the back again. And he didn't think Craig would hoist him on his shoulders a second time.

Many of the other kids started showing up soon after, still quite early as expected. Out of nowhere, a taller kid Kevin guessed was probably about fourteen cut in front of him. "Um…excuse me?" Kevin asked timidly.

"What?" the kid faced him.

"Well, I was…kind of…in front."

"The key word being was."

"But…that's not fair."

"Too bad, shrimp," he turned back around.

Kevin could feel tears of frustration trying to come out. Just as he was about to lose his struggle to hold them back, he saw somebody rush up behind the older kid and say in a nasally voice, "Hey, asshole…"

The kid quickly spun around again. "You talkin' to me?"

"He's first in line," Craig pointed to Kevin, "so step back."

The tall kid bent down and got right in Craig's face. "Why don't you try and make me, chullo boy?"

Before Kevin knew what happened, Craig kicked the inside of the kid's right foot with his own and swept it across, making said kid lose his balance and fall on his side. Craig knelt down on the ground and got in his face. "Who's first in line?"

"He is," the kid groaned.

"That's what I thought," he got up again.

"Wow," Kevin gawked. "That was amazing, Craig."

"That was a kekaeshi," he answered.

"A what?"

"Kekaeshi—a sumo technique used to knock an opponent off his feet."

"Incredible… but aren't you afraid you'll get in trouble for a physical altercation?"

"I really doubt this freshman-to-be would admit to getting his ass kicked by a ten-year-old."

Kevin sighed dejectedly.

"What's wrong? You got your place back in line."

"I wish I knew how to defend myself like you do. I feel like such a wimp always needing somebody to come to my rescue."

Craig could almost feel Kevin's low sense of self-worth at that moment. Was it possible that he actually felt empathy for someone? He quickly shook the thought away. "Tell you what: if you want, as long as you don't make a big deal out of it, you can come to the hotel where we're staying tomorrow and I'll teach you a few sumo moves."

"Really?" Kevin shouted. "That would be so awesome!"

"As long as you don't make a big deal out of it," Craig emphasized.

"Sorry. I accept your offer. Thank you."

"Don't mention it…to anyone."

…

The next afternoon, the Stoleys followed the GPS in their rental car to the Tuckers' hotel.

Craig met them in the lobby. "You ready?" he asked Kevin. "Come on, I'll show you to our suite."

"Do we have to stick around?" Esther quietly asked her mom.

"We'd need to come back anyway to bring Kevin to Space Camp," Mrs. Stoley answered. "There's no reason to waste another trip."

"Kevin can come with me when I go," Craig said. "Then you could just pick him up when it's over."

"Are you all right staying here on your own, Kevin?" asked Mr. Stoley.

"Yeah, definitely."

"OK, then we'll see you later tonight."

Craig led Kevin up to where his family was staying. "Home suite home," he unlocked the door.

"So your parents won't mind us practicing sumo moves in the living room?"

"They took my sister to the park or something so we could have our space."

"You have a sister, too? I never knew that."

"No reason you would," he shrugged. "Ruby's too young for school." He started untying his shoelaces. "It's better to do this barefoot."

Kevin followed suit and removed his shoes.

"Now we can begin. In sumo, you must have disciprine."

"Don't you mean discipline?"

"See, right there. I'm trying to instruct you in the art of sumo, and you're hung up on words. How can I teach if you racka disciprine?"

"Forgive me, master," Kevin bowed his head. "Please continue."

"Well, since you're primary objective is to learn how to defend yourself, I'll focus more on defensive techniques rather than offensive. Let's say that someone's about to punch you in the face; while they're fist is coming at you, lock your arm around theirs, then throw them down. This is called a kotenage."

"Ko-te-na-ge," Kevin sounded out. "I should write that down. Can you spell it for me?"

"The term isn't nearly as important as its execution. Pretend I'm gonna punch you;" Craig walked forward and extended his fist toward Kevin's face; "wrap your arm around mine;" Kevin did as he was told; "now, throw me on the floor."

"I can't do that, Craig."

"You won't hurt me, I promise."

"No, I mean I really can't. I'm not strong enough."

"If you don't do it, you'll get punched in the face."

"I know, in the real world, your opponent won't stand around and wait for you to be ready."

"No, I'll seriously punch you in the face if you don't do it."

"Come on, Craig. Quit kidding around."

"I told you I don't do funny.

"You just made a play on words with 'home suite home.'"

"I don't really think it was that funny. You better be ready for me."

"Stop it, you're scaring me."

"I'm pulling my fist back…"

"You're not playing fair!"

"One more chance…"

"No! I can't!"

"Time's up!" As Craig went in for the punch, Kevin did the only thing he could think of—kicking the inside of Craig's foot and sweeping it across, successfully knocking him to the floor.

"Oh no! Craig, are you OK?"

"I expected a kotenage, and you gave me a kekaeshi."

"I'm sorry! I panicked!"

"Hey, it's important to know your strengths and weaknesses in a fight. You weren't ready to throw me down, so you knocked me off balance instead. Either way, you got me on the ground. That element of surprise worked in your favor. Nice job."

"Gee…thanks," he gave a small smile and lent Craig a hand up off the floor. "Hey, how did you get into sumo, anyway?"

"It was back in third grade when those three dickwads manipulated me and Tweek into fighting each other. We didn't even know how to fight, so Stan and Kyle took Tweek for boxing lessons, while Cartman brought me to the Nishimura School of Martial Arts to learn sumo wrestling. Everyone always pegged me for a troublemaker, and now I finally had some fighting skills to back it up."

"But you and Tweek are friends now, right? I mean, I see you guys together pretty often."

"Yeah, we had a lot of time to spend in the same room at Hell's Pass while we were recovering. We eventually got to talking and realized we didn't really have anything against each other. And I have to admit, I was pretty impressed. Tweek Tweak, the kid who jumps at the sight of his own shadow, had the guts to fight me, despite my badass reputation. I gotta respect him for that."

"Hmm…" Kevin pondered something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"It seems a little strange you'd end up being friends with him."

"Why?"

"Well, you say you like things nice and boring, but if there's one thing Tweek isn't, it's boring."

"That's different."

"How?"

"He gained my respect, thereby earning the privilege of my friendship."

"I see," he looked at Craig with a sliver of doubt.

"We still have some time to kill before my folks get back. We should practice more—you still need some work on your technique."

"You're the master," Kevin shrugged.