On the Friday night before the final event of the Blue-White competition, as the campers were sitting down to their dinner, Kris, Alvin, Rodolfo and Zack selected a table by the window, where they always sat together at mealtimes. Everyone was waiting for the counselors to make the announcement of what event would take place in the morning. The final event had been kept a secret from everyone, and many of the campers had spent most of their free time voicing their personal theories on what that event would be.
"Someone at the fishing activity thought it was going to be a Capture the Flag…" Alvin started to offer a suggestion.
"Nope," Kris cut him off in mid-sentence. "They did that last year. They never use the same event twice in a row. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a surprise." Without another word, she spooned some of her selection from the night's pasta bar into her mouth. "Hmm. Is this Chef Boyardee? Sure tastes like it."
"Yeah, it's not that bad," Zack nodded. "Just not as good as Mom's"
"I hear that," Rodolfo agreed.
"I know exactly what you mean," Kris added. "You haven't lived until you've tried Granny's salmon cakes."
Oh, yeah, I've been meaning to bring that up," Rodolfo remembered. "What's it like up there, anyway?"
"What? You mean Granddad and Granny's place?" Kris glanced over at her friend.
"Well, I'm just wondering, that's all," Rodolfo shrugged. "Apart from coming to camp this year, and the occasional visit to Scarsdale to see Uncle Mark's family, I've never been anywhere outside the city."
"Wait a minute, Rodolfo," Zack augured. "What about that summer Mom and Dad told us about? When they all took that road trip down to Texas, and ended up staying at that hotel where…?"
"That doesn't count. We were babies at the time." Kris looked between the two 'cousins', but before she could ask what they were talking about, the head counselor suddenly called for everyone's attention.
"First of all," he began, "I want to tell everyone that they've done a wonderful job this year. Everybody has gone beyond our expectations. All of you should be very proud of your accomplishments this year.
"Now, I'm sure you're all eager to hear about the Blue-White competition. At this point, both teams are tied evenly, meaning that the team who wins the final event will be the winner of the entire competition this year. In order to keep everyone surprised, and to prevent any possible cheating on either side, the final event has been kept secret. However, we now feel that it's time to reveal to you all what tomorrow's event will be. Immediately, after breakfast tomorrow, we will be having a relay race.
"At exactly 9:20 tomorrow morning, all campers are to report to the starting point at the flagpole, where everyone will be taken to a set location along the route of the relay race, which extends throughout the campground and ends at the docks. Once there, they will wait until the baton is passed over to them. I want you all to remember that the race's route has been clearly marked, and there is a chance some counselors will be monitoring the race, so we will know if anyone tries to take a shortcut.
"Now, tonight, at the evening activity, the listing of each camper's position in the relay race will be posted. Each of the listed locations will be assigned to a member of the Blue team and a member of the White team. It's important for everyone to remember where he or she will be dropped off, because we will not remind you tomorrow. The order of everyone's position in tomorrow's race is completely random, to make everything fair.
"On a final note, be sure to rest well tonight. And good luck to everyone tomorrow morning." When the head counselor returned to the counselors' table, conversation broke out once again.
"What's that supposed to mean, 'making everything fair'?" Alvin wondered.
"They probably are trying to make it so the fastest runners on each team aren't placed together," Zack guessed. "Must think it'll give one team an unfair advantage. Anyway, what's the evening activity tonight?"
"Movie night," Kris announced without much thought. "Heard them talking about showing that National Treasure movie during the rest hour while I was sending Dad and Uncle Justin a postcard."
"National Treasure One or Two?" Rodolfo asked.
"Why? Does it matter?"
"Well, the first one was believable enough to be worth the five dollars for a Saturday matinee ticket. The second one, well, I don't think they really explained why the guy had to come along with the whole Booth diary thing instead of just asking for Ben's help."
"Hey, I don't care which one they show, as long as they dish out the buttered popcorn," Alvin stated. "Movie night without the popcorn is like… Christmas without the tree. It's just wrong."
On Saturday morning, about five minutes before the start of the relay race, the campers were all boarded into the hay wagons that would drive each camper to their starting position in the race. There were two hay wagons in all, one for each team. When it had been their turn to get on the Blue Team's hay wagon, Rodolfo, Zack, Kris, Alvin and Lucia had all made an effort to sit together, since they would be staggered throughout the route of the relay race. Alvin was going to be the third runner for the Blue Team, while Kris and Lucia were positioned somewhere along the middle. It turned out Rodolfo was going to be running the last leg of the race, preceded by Zack. Ever since finding out it would all be down to him in the end, Rodolfo had grown quiet and brooding, and barely noticed if someone was talking to him. Even Kris was refraining from spouting off some bizarre saying to snap him out of it, but she did send him one of her trademark placid smiles before being dropped off. Before long, only Zack and Rodolfo were left in the hay wagon.
"So, just to let you know," Zack began as the hay wagon drove through the wooded area where they would begin their length of the race, hoping not to set him off. "I'm sure you would have proved yourself to Uncle Roger already. Even if we don't win this competition, he probably knows you did the best you could."
"Zack, you don't get it," Rodolfo shook his head stubbornly. "I can't say I lived up to my father unless I get my name on that plaque on the wall."
"I'm just saying that it's not all about you, all right? I mean, it's like Kris said when we first met, remember? This camp isn't for competition or anything like that. It's supposed to be about teamwork, doing your best, and building character. Even you said that you didn't come here to compete."
"And I'm not," Rodolfo insisted. "I just want to live up to my dad's achievement. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"It's not, Rodolfo," Zack reasoned. "But at the same time, you have to remember that…you may share some traits with Uncle Roger, but...you're not him."
"You really don't get it," Rodolfo snapped as the hay wagon stopped to drop Zack off. Zack let out a defeated sigh as he got out.
"I'll see you at the finish line, then," he announced with an air of disappointment as the hay cart carried Rodolfo off.
The brown-eyed boy watched his 'cousin' until the hay cart turned the corner and Zack was out of sight, but even then, he couldn't stop thinking about what Zack had said. Zack didn't understand how he felt at all. There was no way he could loose. He needed to win this and get his name up on that wall, like his father had done. He needed to do this to show his father that he was as good as he'd been, and nothing was going to stop him from winning this race.
However, when the hay wagon started pulling up to the spot where he would be waiting for Zack to hand the baton to him, Rodolfo felt the bottom of his stomach drop. The member of the White Team he would be racing against was already waiting there, and the identity of the camper nearly made him sick with nervous panic.
Of all the campers he could be racing against, the counselors had paired him with Charles.
Zack dashed along the path through the campground woods, between a steep slope and a White Team member who was called Ryan. The two had shared a conversation earlier to pass the time before they had to begin their part of the race, and Zack had brought up how worried he was about Rodolfo and his obstinate determination to win the competition. Ryan had proven to be supportive, telling Zack that his father had a doctrine in psychology, going on to explain that it was apparently a common occurrence for sons to want to mimic their fathers, and since Rodolfo had never known his father, that instinct was probably stronger than usual. As a result, it might be best to just let him get the competition thing out of his system. Unfortunately, the chat had to end there, because the runners with the batons had just appeared, and they had to start running.
Zack and Ryan continued running along the race's route, occasionally avoiding tripping over a fallen branch or rock. As they reached the end of their part of the relay race, Rodolfo and Charles slowly came into view. It was clear to see that they were both getting ready to run the final length, but Zack could also see the look on Rodolfo's face, which let him know that Charles had been taunting him for quite a while. That could only mean one thing. If Rodolfo lost to Charles now, then there would possibly be a repeat of the canoe race. Putting on an extra burst of speed, fueled by nothing more than wanting to avoid that possibility, Zack quickly got close enough to pass the baton over to Rodolfo. In a heartbeat, he was off, with Charles close behind.
"Well, that's that," Ryan noted, dropping down to sit on a nearby log. "Man, I hate running."
"Yeah, me too," Zack agreed, resting his back against a young tree. "I think I'm just going to take a minute to catch my breath before heading back to camp. How about you, Ryan?"
"Oh, you just took the words out of…." Ryan never finished his sentence. The tree Zack had been resting against was nothing more than a young sapling, and couldn't take the sudden weight of a teenage boy. Within moments, the tree had given way, toppling over. With the loss of the tree for support, Zack ended up loosing his balance and began to tumble down the steep slope of the wooded path, crying out as he fell.
A short distance ahead, Rodolfo was focused on outrunning Charles, who was occasionally shooting him mocking smirks. Clenching his teeth together, Rodolfo forced himself to run faster than he was usually able, not thinking about the painful stitch he'd have afterwards. All that mattered was reaching the finish line before Charles did.
At that moment, Zack's cry rang through the air. Instantly, Rodolfo found himself skidding to a halt, eyes wide in shock. The only time he'd heard Zack shout like that was back in second grade, when he'd fallen off the monkey bars. If Zack was crying out like that now, he might be in a lot of trouble.
"Giving up already, Dolfy?" Charles jeered as he ran past him, laughing as he went. Indecision filling his face, Rodolfo looked between the remaining distance of the race and the direction of Zack's shout.
What should he do know? It sounded like Zack needed help now, but if he didn't continue now, he'd loose the race, the competition, and all hopes of getting his name up on the wall next to his father's. His heart pounding from the conflict, Rodolfo swallowed hard, and looked once again over at Charles, who was now almost out of sight. Seconds later, a hardened, determined expression filled Rodolfo's face as he made his decision. Not giving it another thought, Rodolfo began to run again, but this time, he was running back towards where he'd last seen Zack, dropping the baton as he went.
