A/N: I know it's been a while since I've updated. Just lacked inspiration, I guess.

Disclaimer: I do not own Holes.

Chapter 4: Was That A Rattlesnake?

"Rory! Rory! You up yet?"

I groaned and rolled over, then quickly regretted the decision. Every muscle in my body screamed out in protest. I could never remember being so sore. I lay there for a minute, hoping I was dreaming. But then I turned my head into my pillow, and the sour milk smell reminded me-this was no dream. This was a nightmare, only I couldn't wake up from it.

Another minute passed by, and whoever it was kept screaming my name, so I finally croaked out, "I'm up, I'm up!" My throat felt like I hadn't had a drop of water in days. I sat up really slowly, praying that the pain would lessen or go away. It didn't.

I dressed really slowly, and by the time I left the tent, almost everybody had already gotten their shovels.

Mr. Sir laughed when he saw me. "Sore, are ya, girly?" I just scowled and glared at him, then turned away real quickly to cover my yawn.

He just chuckled again. "You'll get used to it."

That's what everyone had been telling me. I yawned again and willed my eyes to stay open.

On the way out to dig, most of the boys were joking around while I just trudged silently behind them, barely keeping a grip on my shovel because I was so tired and sore.

When we were about halfway out, Caveman fell into step beside me.

"Here," he said, holding out a pair of worn gloves. "I found an extra pair."

I took them and gave him a small half-smile. "Thanks."

"The second hole is the hardest." He said with a grin.

I snickered. "That's what everyone said about the first hole."

"They lied."

"Oh, and what about the third hole?"

"That one's the hardest too."

"Does it ever get easy?"

"Oh, sure it does. When you hit your tenth hole, you're kinda getting used to it. Twentieth hole, you're a whole lot better and it barely hurts at all."

"Oh, goody. Only nineteen holes to go until I don't feel pain."

Caveman smiled, then walked away, as we had already reached the designated digging spot.

I dropped my canteen, put my cap on my head, shoved my hands into the gloves, and started digging.

And Caveman was right. The second hole is the hardest. I didn't know what the third hole would be like, but I was so sore I could barely get the shovel in the dirt. My back, arms, legs, hands, everything hurt.

By the time the water truck came around, my hole was smaller then it had been the day before. I groaned, dropped my shovel, scooped up my canteen, and took my place at the end of the line.

I went back to my hole with my full canteen and dropped to a sitting position. I sat there for a few minutes, trying to determine how much energy I had left. Not that it mattered much anyway. At Camp Green Lake, you finished digging your hole even if it took all night, that was something I could just instinctively tell. And considering the size of my hole, it seemed like I was going to be there till it was dark.

So I dug. I didn't think, I didn't talk, I just dug. I was taking a little break when I looked over at Caveman and noticed he wasn't wearing gloves. Then I remembered that he had been wearing gloves the day before, and he had given me a pair that morning.

I rolled my eyes, climbed out of my hole, and walked over there. I didn't like it when people took pity on me. And giving me the gloves that they usually wore was something I construed as pity.

I sat down, took off the gloves, and tossed them at him. He picked them up, looked at them for a second, and tossed them back.

"Keep them."

I tossed them back at him. "I don't need any pity."

"It's not pity, I'm just trying to help." The gloves landed in my lap. I threw them in his hole.

"The gloves are yours. Keep them. I'll be fine."

"You're really stubborn, do you know that?"

I nodded.

"Look at your hands. They're bloody. Keep the gloves."

He threw them again and they landed by my feet. I picked them up and threw them back at him. One landed on his shoulder and the other fell into his hole.

"They make my hands hurt anyway."

"But they hurt a lot less than if you were just holding the shovel."

"I don't want them. I'm guessing nobody gave you their gloves when you first came. I'll tough it out."

I got up and walked away, and I could just picture Caveman shaking his head.

I didn't want anybody to make this experience any easier. I'd been through a lot, and surely I could dig holes without gloves.

Once I picked up the shovel, I knew Caveman was right. I should've kept the gloves. My hands hurt worse than ever before. But I kept digging.

My hole was just past the halfway point when I heard something. I stopped digging and listened for a few minutes, and then, there it was again.

I looked around me for a moment before I spotted it-a snake, curled up, making a strange little noise.

Now, I've seen snakes. I just can't tell one snake from another, so when I see a snake, my first instinct is to run. They freak me out, completely. After a minute of me watching it, it slithered away. I watched it until I couldn't see it anymore. Zigzag was up and walking around, because he had finished his hole, I guess, and he must've seen it, because he came over.

"Was that a rattlesnake?" I asked, because I honestly didn't know.

He laughed. That's all-just laughed. And I was ready to smack him with my shovel when he stopped. "City girls. Gotta love 'em."

Then he left, dragging his shovel and muttering to himself.

Pretty soon everyone was leaving. I was only about three-fourths of the way done. Not even that, I realized, because it was deeper in the center and slanted out at the edges. I thought I remembered that happening the day before too, and wondered if that would happen every hole I dug.

I heard something land on the dirt, and when I looked, lo and behold, there were the gloves, and there was Caveman, walking away.