Shout Outs

Tag and Tree~Tagstein!! Treeling!! *pounce-tackles* My sisters have come through! Rubber chicken, dynamite, butler laughs forever! Jahahaha! JAHAHAHAHA!! *grabs Twitch and vanishes in a swirl of fire before she can further frighten the other reviewers*

Zippy~Reviews!! And I love them! Sweet happy reviews, yayness! :-D I'm sorry you feel bad for Twitchy! But, but…reviews!! I love you, Zippy-chan!

Everyone Else~I love you guys to death!! I am incredibly sorry for lumping you all together, but it's currently 11:00 at night and my brain is quickly shutting down. :-( So I thought I'd just greet my newest reviewers...but be assured that you'll all get individual SO's in the next chapter!

P.S. Keep it up, mis chicas!! O:-)

A/N: Whoot! Update! At last! ^_^ If you want 'em more often (and believe me, so do I!), send a hate letter to my school! :-) Tell 'em to go easier on Emily with the homework, and give her more time for her masterpieces.

Chapter Three: Among The Natives

It was a jittery little man with a falsely peppy attitude who showed Brian to the tent where he would be sleeping. ("D stands for 'diligence'!") The man, who had introduced himself as "Dr. Pendanski", indicated a lumpy, unattractive cot against one wall.

            "That one'll be yours, Brian!"

            Brian tossed his bag on the cot and wondered who had occupied it before his arrival. Had that person been released from the camp? Or maybe he had fallen victim to one of the horrific creatures that Mr. Sir had described. You think too much, Brian, he informed himself as he watched the man called Pendanski leave the tent. He proceeded to pace the length of the tent and think some more.

            "The other boys are all out diggin' right now," Pendanski had explained, "but they'll be back soon, an' I'm sure they'll give you a nice warm welcome." Brian wasn't fooled. He had moved around to several different neighborhoods during the period when his father was still actually making an effort to secure a job. He knew what it was like to be new anywhere. To be new and small was worse; to be new, small, and twitchy was like signing your own death warrant. And to be new, small, and twitchy in a camp full of convicted criminals, of juvenile delinquents...well, he may as well draw up a will and plan an epitaph for his tombstone.

            But then, of course, there was the whole concept of getting up at five in the morning every day and going out to dig a hole--five feet deep, five feet wide--until the sun beat down in all its blazing glory from a sky that supposedly never released so much as a drop of rain. This was almost enough to make Brian grateful for the certainty of approaching death.

            At that moment, Brian's thoughts were cut off by a sound from across the tent. Turning toward the entrance flap, he saw it brush aside. A large black boy in an orange jumpsuit like his own lumbered into the humble dwelling. He was drenched in sweat--Brian could smell it already--and his body sagged with exhaustion. He didn't seem to notice Brian as he staggered toward what was presumably his own cot; he was too busy mopping his forehead with an orange vinyl cap, and taking what looked like the last swig from his canteen.

            Naturally, Brian would have much preferred to remain invisible and anonymous, but this dream was quickly crushed. No sooner had the massive boy flung himself down on his cot when Dr. Pendanski came bustling through the flap, that stupid clown-sized grin on his face.

            "Theodore! Where are your manners? Say hello to the newest member of our team: Brian! Brian, meet Theodore!"

            The boy groaned in irritation and rolled over so that he was facing Brian. Squinting at him, he grunted. "Oh, new kid. My name ain't Theodore. It's Armpit."

            Brian thought it sounded as if Theodore/Armpit had rehearsed that statement, or at least been forced to say it several times before.

            Now it was Pendanski's turn to groan. "Makes 'em feel special, all havin' nicknames for each other," he explained commiseratingly to Brian.

            Brian shrugged. He thought the guy looked more like an Armpit than a Theodore anyway.

            From outside the tent flap, footsteps approached. Mr. Pendanski hurried outside to greet the new arrivals, and probably lecture them on making the newcomer feel at home. At this point, "Armpit" suddenly leaned forward on his cot, apparently deciding to get a better look at Brian.

            "Hey, man," he exclaimed, voice still laced with weariness, "what's with the twitchin'?"

            Brian had no chance to reply, for Pendanski returned with two more boys in tow. One was black like Armpit, but much smaller; yet he held himself with an air of casual authority that tugged uncomfortably at something in Brian's memory. He also wore thick goggle-like glasses, though they were currently clouded with so much dust that it was doubtful they did much good. The other boy was quite tall, partly because of an abnormally long neck. Frizzy blonde hair sprang out of his head from all sides, as if he'd been struck by lightning. Strangest of all were his eyes. Fixed, unblinking, and a shade of blue almost too bright and opaque to be real, they sent a shiver down Brian's spine. Somewhere inside himself, he felt another memory stir...but to this one his mind reacted with sheer panic, and in the blink of an eye it had been driven back into the shadows.

            "Brian," Pendanski was gushing, "I'd like to introduce two more of your new companions, Ricky and Rex!"

            "Zigzag," the blonde boy corrected at once, and those unsettling eyes flicked sharply to Brian.

            "X-Ray," the confident one added coolly. His eyes too were fixed on D Tent's newest member, and his eyebrows slowly raised as he observed the usual phenomenon. Brian backed away slightly and leaned self-consciously against the canvas wall, clasping his hands behind his back, where they still managed to fidget. Identical smirks spread over the faces of his three young observers. The kid who called himself X-Ray strode over to Brian and extended his hand. Brian accepted it, and received a handshake that almost crushed his fingers, accompanied by a low, unreadable greeting.

            "Welcome to Camp Green Lake, Twitch."

            Once Pendanski was gone again, the newly baptised "Twitch" eyed "X-Ray" and "Zigzag" warily, but they seemed to have lost interest in him for the time being. X-Ray headed into the tiny washroom at the back of the tent, and Twitch heard a shower running. Zigzag flopped on his cot to wait his turn. Twitch wished that he too could retreat to his cot, thereby making himself much more inconspicuous, but with his energy level, lying still simply was not an option.

            "I ain't makin' fun of him! Just askin' why, is all. There gotta be a reason, ya know what I'm sayin'? I mean, no offense or nothin', but...y'know...most kids can stay still for a few minutes. An' it case you ain't noticed, this one can't manage it for a second."

            Twitch couldn't remember how his brother had responded to that particular query. It didn't matter; there had been so many queries like it over the years, so many tedious explanations...

            C'mon! It ain't the time for all that, he berated himself, attempting to shake the memories away as if they were irritating flies buzzing in his ear. Luckily, a distraction presented itself then, in the form of Pendanski returning with yet another pair of boys.

            Twitch took in one of these new potential threats at a glance: average height, brown hair, and something that suspiciously resembled a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. After Armpit's massive size, X-Ray's intimidating attitude, and the sheer bizarreness that was Zigzag, this one seemed relatively normal to Twitch. With a vague sense of relief, he shifted his eyes to the second arrival...and almost toppled right over.

            "Brian?"

            Quickly grabbing the bedpost of a nearby cot to right himself, Twitch continued to stare as Pendanski ran through the now-familiar routine of introductions.

            "Brian, say hello to Alan and..."

            "José."

            The word popped out of Twitch's mouth before he could stop himself. As soon as it did, he wished the ground would swallow him. His reward was six pairs of wide eyes staring straight at him. He felt his cheeks grow hot; he hated being stared at...and it made his twitching worse. The boy whose name he had so foolishly stated spoke up.

            "What the...?"

            Twitch struggled to keep his face blank. That voice...the soft Mexican accent...it was so familiar. Yet no flare of recognition lit those eyes as they regarded him in curious amazement. (A/N: Flare! FLARE!! *throws confetti* ^_^) That, of course, was just as well. The boy was still speaking, he realized.

            "Do I, uh...know you, kid?" He was squinting at Twitch now, clearly wracking his

brain. Which he would never have thought to do if you hadn't kept your stupid mouth shut!

            "Huh? I mean, uh, no...'course not...just a lucky guess, y'know?" Twitch grinned brightly. Well, why not? Lots of Hispanic guys are named José.

            Clearly bemused, José raised his eyebrows, but hesitantly went on with business.

"Anyway, it's Magnet," he explained assertively. "An' this," he added, punching the toothpick boy lightly on the shoulder, "is Squid."

            That playful punch was Twitch's savior. Squid responded to it by pivoting to face Magnet and delivering a blow of his own. Before long, the two were going at each other enthusiastically. Twitch had seen his share of fights, and he could easily tell that this one wouldn't develop into anything serious. But it did effectively direct the attention of all the other boys away from him. Pendanski simply shook his head in disgust, rolled his eyes, and walked out again.

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed without much further excitement. The fight soon dissolved out of boredom on the part of both boys. Those puzzling one-minute showers were taken by everyone except Armpit, who appeared to be fast asleep; and from the stench wafting from his cot, Twitch got the uncomfortable feeling that he might never shower at all. After the necessity of hygeine was fulfilled, all of the other boys retreated to their cots, clearly desiring to rest after a long day of  difficult labor. This caused poor Twitch to stick out, as usual, for he still hadn't stopped pacing. But the others seemed too exhausted to care, and after a few halfhearted yells to keep it down, most of them chose to toss their pillows over their heads and ignore them.

There was only one pair of eyes that Twitch felt from time to time, darting puzzled, almost frustrated glances at him every once in a while. Twitch tried not to look back, or even to think about those eyes. He knew perfectly well whose they were, and why they watched him. He could only hope that their mission, their mission to trigger a certain memory, to dredge up a certain only half-forgotten image, would not succeed.

            It was when even Twitch's extraordinary store of energy had begun to wane, and he had managed to perch on the edge of his cot, though still bouncing in place, that the first line of conversation was heard. It came from the one called Squid, who propped  his head up on one elbow and commented in a Southern twang, "Hey, guys, Caveman still ain't back."

            Twitch actually stopped bouncing for a moment at this revelation. There was another camper in D Tent? He'd been sure that Squid and José...Magnet, he corrected himself sternly...had been the last.

            X-Ray, rolling over to face Squid's cot, gave his glasses a quick and furious rub with the corner of his blanket, then glanced around. "Hey, you're right, man. What's with that? I mean, I know he's the slowest digger in the camp an' all, but he's usually done by now, ain't he?"

            "I think he's been even slower," spoke up Zigzag, "ever since Zero..."

            "Yeah, man," Armpit jumped in, apparently awakened. "He's still all torn up over that, y'know? I mean, it's been a few days now, you'd think he'd get over it. Don't do no good, 'cause there's no way Zero coulda made it this long."

            "Comen los ojos primero," Magnet muttered under his breath, and laughed.

            "José, don'chu ever stop laughin', man?"

            Twitch did understand quite a bit of Spanish, from hearing it spoken so much in his old neighborhoods, but he had no idea what Magnet had just said. He had a feeling he didn't want to know. And who was this "Zero"? And what about the mysterious "Caveman"?

            That last question, at least, was quickly answered. The tent flap rustled for the third time that day, and in came the seventh and final member of D Tent: a tall, lean boy with curly brown hair, who appeared even more dusty, sweaty, and drained than all the rest of them. (A/N: Yes, I know that Stanley was really chubby, but by this point in the book, he had lost lots of weight at Camp Green Lake.) The boy's expression was quite solemn and downcast, but he received an enthusiastic greeting from his tentmates. Calls of "Hey, Caveman!" and "Nice of you to join us, Caveman!" and "What took ya so long? We was waitin' up!" erupted from the boys, and they slid off their cots to swarm around him, offering handshakes, mock-punches, and slaps on the back. Judging from the lack of enthusiasm in his muttered, "Hey, guys," and from the conversation he had just overhead, Twitch supposed they were trying to cheer him up.

            "Yo, Caveman!" Easily parting the small crowd, X-Ray slung an arm around the other boy's shoulders. "We got a newcomer. C'mon over an' meet Twitch."

            Something about Caveman dulled the nervous, wary feelings that Twitch normally experienced when meeting someone new. Something about him seemed to suggest that he was different from the others...not rough, not street-smart, not remotely dangerous. Twitch bounced off his cot and grinned cheerfully, fiddling with his hat. "Hey."

            "Hey." Caveman returned his grin, and it looked only partially forced. "Nice to meet 'cha. I'm Stanley...er, Caveman," he corrected himself quickly at the burst incredulous protests. Twitch's grin widened. "Brian...Twitch," he clarified, at X-Ray's raised eyebrows, and shook Caveman's hand.

            Seems like a nice guy. Wonder what he did to get landed in here. An' what is it that's got him so depressed?

            "So," X-Ray suggested, glancing from Caveman and Twitch to the other guys, "y'all wanna head to the Rec Room an' see what's up?"

            The response was quite noisy and quite affirmative, and Twitch had to dodge to avoid being trampled by the ensuing stampede out of the tent. Even the subdued Caveman participated, though rather unwillingly, being dragged along by Armpit. Only one camper hung slightly behind the rest.

            "You comin', Twitch?" Magnet called over his shoulder.

            "You comin', Brian? Hurry up, kid, it'll be over by the time we get there."

            "You're takin' Mark's kid brother to see some dog show?"

            "Don't say it like he's some kinda saint, Carlos. You know how José is about animals. He's just goin' for himself, an' takin' the kid along as an excuse."

            "Yeah," Twitch sighed, tossing his hat aside and jogging to catch up. "I'm comin'."

The Rec Room, Twitch discovered, was not the Rec Room at all. It was the Wreck Room. At least, that was what the sign on the door said. When they got inside, Twitch could see why. From a sagging couch that looked like a dog had been dining on it, to a television that broadcast nothing but "snow" and static, to a pinball machine that was simply and completely destroyed, nothing at all seemed to be untouched by the violence of a bunch of bored teenage criminals cooped up in the middle of nowhere. Twitch, however, paid little heed to the dilapidated recreational objects. He was paying more attention to other aspects of the room.

            The crowd. It was enormous; how many tents full of prisoners were there at this place, anyway? Teenage boys, a fairly wide age range, all different sizes and races. He could hear several languages being spoken. Everywhere, there was talking...there was yelling...there was gambling...there was fighting. Anywhere his head turned, boys were exchanging punches and karate kicks, larger boys were tossing smaller ones against walls, heated arguments were leading up to blows. And as if all that wasn't enough, there it was, straight out of a chapter in the history of his life: a pool table, its felt scarred with the bumps and dents that made up countless sets of initials. A boy from one of the other tents squeezed one eye shut and took a carefully aimed shot. Twitch watched the round white cue ball roll clumsily over the punctured felt...

            "I know I've seen you someplace before."

            Twitch jumped and spun around; he hadn't heard Magnet come up behind them. It didn't surprise him, however; Magnet had walked with him from the tent to the Wreck Room, and his eyes had never left the younger boy the entire time.

            Twitch hated...hated...hated being stared at!

            "I know you from somewhere...just dunno where," Magnet insisted one last time, before chuckling slightly and heading over to join the pool game.

            Yeah, you know me from somewhere all right, José, thought Twitch, nervously leaning against a wall, letting his fingers skitter along the wall and his feet rhythmically tap the floor. A scrawny boy went flying past Twitch, barely missing him, to crash into the opposite wall; he scrambled to his feet, shouting curses at whoever had pushed him. Somewhere, Twitch grimly completed his observation, a lot like here.

A/N: Wheee! Another chapter out! C'mon, let me know what you think! *kisses feet of reader* Nope, no shame...review, por favor, with a cherry on top? O:-) Oh, and remember, next chapter will be back in Twitchy's past!