Disclaimer: Most of the Holes characters belong to Louis Sachar, NOT ME! The only one that is truly mine is, of course, Terry. And uh, no offense to country fans (you'll see later why) I just really hate country…And please review. I have only 1 review. (Also I'm going to make the chapters longer for all of your enjoyment!!!
Chapter Three: The first real dayIt had been a sleepless night. Mr. Pendanski had come back after his little lecture to C-Tent. He had come back and stumbled over the pile of sneakers at the tent entrance. In the process of explaining why it is important to organize the shoes, he had knocked Terry's picture of her and Hugh off the bed. It was the most special picture of him she had, because it was taken at a barrel-racing competition. Not just any competition, one they had one first place in…. together. The glass was smashed to smithereens and the wooden frame was snapped at the corner. Of course, he made her clean it up, ad while she was doing that, someone 'accidentally' dropped their water bottle on the floor and it splashed not only all over Terry, but on her bed and picture as well. Wrecked picture, soaked bed, and a tested temper. She had no choice but to hang out the sheets and use her baggy wool sweater as a blanket. Scowling at the floor, she had pretended not to hear the muffled snickers coming from behind.
"Scrambled or over-easy?" Grunted the short man behind the serving counter.
"Scrambled… please." Terry said uncertainly. Both seemed to be floating in the same amount of grease. He plopped a spoonful of steaming scrambled eggs onto her plate, sending a few droplets of brown grease onto her orange uniform sleeve. She continued down the line, eyeing the black french toast and hesitating. She poured herself a glass of watery orange juice and slowly walked to the D- Tent table.
The instant she got there, all the boys stopped talking. A small kid with really curly hair shuffled to the left a bit, leaving her the perch at the end of the bench. They all stared. Terry picked up her fork and scooped up a few egg chunks. They were still dripping with grease…
"I can't eat when I'm being watched, thank you." She said, and put the fork in her mouth. Most of them looked at their plate and began eating again. All except for the guy across. He was very thin and had the craziest hair Terry had ever seen. She looked up with a threatening glare. The corner of his moth went up.
"You've never had camp food, huh?" He chuckled.
She continued the unblinking glare. She never lost staring contests. Obviously he had been slightly intimidated, because the crooked smile quickly disappeared and he looked away. Terry took another scoop of her breakfast and shoved the rest into a napkin under the table.
The walk out to the site was quite easy, because it wasn't hot yet and Terry had gloves on for carrying the shovel. Back home, she got a lot of exercise from riding Hugh. 'Hugh…'
Flashback
His big brown eyes were so warm and kind. Terry ran over to the shelter with her cloth bag slung over her shoulder. In it was: A brown paper bag, (Her lunch) part of a head of lettuce, (for Hugh), two carrots( for Hugh…) and an apple core from this morning. (for Hugh.) She pulled out the apple core and held it out for him. His wobbly lips slurped it in and he crunched it up. She grabbed his halter and led him out of the shelter. Hugh co-operated and kept perfectly still as Terry hopped onto his bare back. She held onto his mane tightly and nudged him into a walk.
"Let's go for a ride."
End of flashback
They were still walking, and the sun was beginning to peep overtop of the distant mountains. Already, it was warming up quite a bit. Terry watched as the group approached a small area with no holes. The blue truck that belonged to Mr. Sideburns was already there, and a moaning country blues singer could be heard from the small radio inside. The side-burned potbellied man was sleeping with his hat pulled over his face. Some of the boys chuckled as they went to go start digging. Terry watched them as they all started to break up the rock-hard ground. They seemed to be spacing apart and just going anywhere. Terry chose a spot about 30 feet away from the other holes. She picked up the shovel and plunged it into the earth.
'We may as well be making gravel with boulders and a toothpick…' There was no question about it. It was hard work. The old cracked and rusted shovels were very heavy, and sand constantly blowing in the face didn't help. After the fist hour, the sun was really beating down. Sweat dripping from her forehead, Terry peeked over at the truck. Mr. Sir was leaned up against it, fiddling with his belt buckle. Everyone else was digging. HE looked up and frowned. 'When he frowns, the edges of those squared sideburns point up…' He puffed himself up and waddled over to her.
"How come yeh stopped diggin?" He croaked in a low, threatening voice.
She did not reply. Suprisingly, he smiled and chuckled.
"Need a break?"
"Yes, please."
"WELL THAYT'S TOO DAYM BAD!!!" He spat. Terry was wide-eyed at the sudden outburst. Mr. Sir cackled and said:
"Jus 'cuz you're a girl doesn't mean were gonna go easy on yeh. We had a girlie here a while ago who hayd trouble the sayme as the rest of the boys, but we didn't give her special treatment or nuthin. And so we ain't gonna geev you special treatment to YOU either!" He smirked and waddled back to the blue truck, where he pulled out a sac of sunflower seeds. "Now geet teh work!"
