Disclaimer: I don't own Holes, or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to Louis Sachar. The title of the story is taken from the song "Down to the Valley" by Doc Watson.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2: blisters and blood.
"Blisters and blood and the sun makes you blind.
You don't let it eat ya; it can't help but be kind,
'cause you know what's important with your back to the world.
You can break metal chains and your friends don't let you fall."
- Fiction Plane, "If Only, If Only"
Dear Journal,
I've finally settled into Camp Green Lake. It's a whole lot of nothing-- holes, sand, boys, and more holes. Oh, and sand too. Did I mention sand and holes? And boys? I think I'm the only girl for a hundred miles.
Everyone seems to be friendly- so far, anyway. My counselor, Dr. Pen-dance-key, made me feel kind of welcome. One of my tent mates, Rex or X-Ray, as he wants to be called is my "mentor." They all seem to have their own nicknames. Maybe I'll get one soon. I have a feeling I won't be really accepted until I get one. Not that I'll be accepted anyway. I'll bet everyone just wants to get in my pants. I hate boys.
One of the boys, Zigzag, I think I've seen before, but I can't figure out where. Maybe I went to school with I'm at some point? Of course, the US is kinda big, so it's doubtful we've run into each other. Oh well, we'll see.
Well, dinner's soon, so I'd better be off. Until tomorrow.
-CK
"What're you writing?"
I looked up to see Zigzag standing next to my bed, staring down at me. "Oh, just...my journal." I closed the worn notebook and held it up. "I know it's kinda third grade, but I've always had one. Ever since...well, third grade actually." I gave a small laugh, but Zigzag just stared. I coughed.
"Well then. I think dinner's starting. Are you going?" Zigzag blinked, and nodded. "Great. Well um..." I trailed off. "I guess I'll go to dinner now." I put my journal under my pillow and stood, realizing after a moment that I was face-to-neck with Zigzag. I blushed, and stepped around him. He barely even moved "Um...bye." I was halfway out of the tent when Zigzag spoke.
"Did you go to Twin Oaks Middle School?"
I froze, and turned around. "In Charleston?" Zigzag nodded. "Yeah. How did you know that?" Zigzag just shrugged. I gave a little sigh. "I wish you'd talk more. Why don't you talk?"
Zigzag seemed to ponder the answer for a moment. "I...don't know. I just don't have anything to say, I guess. I talk when I need to." I smiled a little.
"You should talk more. You have a lovely voice." Thinking about what I said, I blushed. A lovely voice? Who is he, Michael Bublé? "I-I mean...oh, whatever. I'm going to dinner. Bye." I turned and hurried out of the tent; I could feel Zigzag's eyes on me until I was out of sight and in the mess hall.
What is with that kid? I thought as I got in line for food. It smelled horrible, looked worse, and I'll bet tasted like shit. The best part, I'm sure, were the two pieces of bread they gave us, and the cup of water. Even the water had a slight yellowish tinge to it, but I would have drunk it even if it were purple.
"Charlie!" I heard my name being called and looked up to see X-Ray waving me over. Relieved, I hurried over to their table, seating myself between Squid and Magnet, across from two boys I had yet to meet. One was a large black boy, still dusty and sweaty, no doubt from digging all day, and the other was a bit taller than I was, with curly, jet black hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled at me and I hesitantly smiled back.
"I'm Flash," he introduced, holding out his hand. I shook it, trying to keep myself from looking into his eyes.
"I'm Armpit," the other boy said. I was grateful he didn't hold his hand out, because I don't think I would have taken it. They were grimy and I could see dirt under his fingernails and practically embedded into his skin. A few seconds later Zigzag sat down in between Flash and X-Ray, who was seated at the head of the table. He gave me a look, but quickly began to eat his food. I tentatively began to poke at mine, which wasn't actually as bad as I originally thought. Sure, it all tasted the same, but I had expected worse.
"So, Charlie. What're you in for? Stealing underwear from a Victoria's Secret?" asked Squid, nudging me with his shoulder. I chuckled and subconsciously moved a bit farther away from him.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said, dipping my bread into my red-and-somewhat-meaty mash of something.
"Oh, c'mon chica, try us," Magnet said.
The others nodded eagerly. "You had to have done something big to end up in an all boy's camp," said Flash. "Come on, we've heard it all. Bank robbery?" I shook my head. "Hijacking a car?" Again, I shook my head. "Cheating on the SATs?" I laughed.
"No, but I wish that was it."
"You didn't break into the government's files, did you?" asked Armpit. I gave him a look.
"What makes you think I did that?" He shrugged. I laughed.
"Just tell us," said Squid. I sighed.
"Murder," I said quietly. The table fell silent.
"I don't believe you," I heard Zigzag whisper. I looked at him.
"It's true. And it sucks too, because," I gave a little smile. "I didn't even kill the guy I was convicted for."
"So you were framed?"
I nodded.
"So, you're innocent?" Squid asked. "You didn't kill anyone?"
"Oh, no. I killed someone," I said quickly, my eyes becoming bright. "Just not the guy I was nailed for. I killed the guy who framed me."
A pause. It seemed as though the whole room had gone quiet. I had a feeling murderers weren't sent to Camp Green Lake very often.
"Who'd you kill?" X-Ray asked quietly.
I put my fork on my tray and started to stand. I had lost my appetite. "My ex-boyfriend," I said, walking away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Four thirty came much too soon for my liking. Before I knew it, I was being forced awake by a disgruntled Squid.
"Up 'n at 'em, Charlie," he mumbled, shaking my shoulder. I yawned and sat up, pushing my hair out of my eyes. It was nearly pitch-black outside. Around me, the rest of D-Tent was slowly waking up, pulling on their jumpsuits and boots.
I gave another yawn and dropped off my bed, crouching down to my crate, where I pulled out my jumpsuit, toothbrush and toothpaste. I quickly changed, merely pulling the jumpsuit over the shorts and tank top that I had slept in. I picked up my toothbrush, toothpaste and canteen, and headed outside to the water spigot.
"Sleep well?" I heard X-Ray ask. I shrugged and I stood next to him. He had his toothbrush hanging out of the corner of his mouth.
"I guess." I ran my toothbrush under the running water and squirted some toothpaste on it, quickly brushing my teeth. I could barely keep my eyes open. "Four thirty is awfully early. I wish I could've slept longer."
"Don't we all?" X replied, almost bitterly. He spat the toothpaste on the ground and filled his canteen, offering to fill mine as well. We both finished at the same time, and I followed him back to the tent, putting my stuff in my crate and grabbing my hat. I followed X-Ray to a small shed labeled "Library", where Mr. Sir was standing with Pendanski. The shed's doors were open and I could see racks of shovels inside.
"Open them peepers, boys," Mr. Sir barked, shaking an A-Tenter's shoulders rather vigorously. Dr. Pendanski handed me a shovel, and smiled.
"Ready for your first hole, Charlotte?" I was too tired to correct him.
"Not really," I said. "I'd rather go back to sleep."
"Well, you can't." Pendanski said. "You screwed up your life, and now you have to pay for it. Now go get some breakfast and follow your tent to your dig site."
I sighed and turned from the shed, heading over to a truck where the rest of the camp was getting their breakfast- three rather hard pancakes and a small package of fat-free syrup that had expired a month ago. I gave my syrup to Magnet and gnawed a piece of my pancake off, chewing with slight difficulty.
Welcome to Hell, I thought. Population: me.
It was a long walk out to the dig site. I was already exhausted when I got there, and I hadn't even begun yet. I wasn't exactly the skinniest girl alive- by no means was I fat, but I sure wasn't thin, either. Everyone in my family was curvy. No matter what I did, I never lost the weight. On the plus side, I hadn't gained a pound since I was fourteen. My mom always said I'd grow into my curves, and now that I was nearly seventeen, I was starting to learn that she was right.
Dr. Pendanski showed me where I would be digging, right between Squid and Zigzag's spot. "Now, if you find anything that you think the Warden would like to see, show either me or Mr. Sir when we come around with the water truck. If the Warden likes it, you'll get the day off."
"Am I supposed to be looking for something in particular?"
"Of course not," Pendanski laughed. "You're digging to make yourself a better person. Now, you'd better get started or you'll be here until dinner."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My father had been in the army as I was growing up. I had gone to nearly five different schools by the time I was in 8th grade. I was born in New York, and lived there until I was two. Then we moved to Florida, then California, then Hawaii (which really isn't all it's cracked up to be), then South Carolina, and then back to New York, never staying in one place for more than three years.
It was in New York that I was arrested for the murder of Andy Levokowitz.
Growing up as a military brat was hard, always moving around. It didn't help that, back in middle school, I had braces, humongous glasses (I wore contacts now, of course), and spoke with a mixed New-York-and-Southern accent, so I was ripe for ridicule. I hid in my books, locking myself in my room as soon as I got home from school and reading for hours at a time.
I never cried, though, no matter how horrible the teasing got. I trained myself at an early age to never let anyone get to me, and when I moved to South Carolina, it paid off.
By the time I had moved back to my hometown of New York City, my parents had divorced and my mom had remarried to a guy named Bill. I had lost the glasses, lost the braces, and somewhat grew into my body. I got a boyfriend, and finally got some friends.
The only problem was, they weren't exactly the best of people. Every weekend, I was at my boyfriend's house, smoking and getting drunk. We stole beer from convenience stores, printed fake IDs to get into clubs, and generally make a wreck of our lives.
The second I turned sixteen, I moved out of my mom's to live with my boyfriend, Jimmy. It was then things started getting difficult.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dirt was impossibly tough, like I was trying to dig a hole in a bar of steel. I looked around. Everyone else had already dug a good few inches out of their hole, and I couldn't even make a dent. I sighed.
I balanced the tip of my shovel in the dirt, and stood on it. With a breath of relief, my shovel sank into the earth. I pried the dirt off and dumped it away. Finally.
The hours passed. Slowly but surely, I made progress. By the time the water truck came for the first time, around eight thirty, I had dug a good foot-and-a-half down and about two feet across. Of course, I was nowhere near where everyone else was, but I was proud of my meager development.
"Enjoying your first hole?" Pendanski asked as I handed him my empty canteen.
"Not really," I answered. I had stripped off the top of my jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around my waist, exposing my neck, shoulders, and arms to the merciless sun. I already had a slight pinkish tinge to my skin, and my body was drenched in sweat.
"Got blisters yet?"
"Oh, yeah. Plenty." I blinked. "Can I have my canteen back?"
"Certainly," Pendanski handed me back my water-filled canteen with a forced smile and waved me off. "Back to work, Charlotte. You're wasting daylight."
I sighed, tossing my water bottle on the ground beside my hole and picking up my shovel.
Around noon, Mr. Sir returned with food. Lunch was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of stale potato chips, an apple and graham crackers (three each). I ate slowly, sitting on the edge of my hole, my feet dangling about a not far from the bottom. I had gained another foot or so in every direction of the hole. X-Ray was already almost done, as was Zigzag.
I stood as I finished my lunch. My jumpsuit was stained with blood where I had wiped my hands on them. I had blisters on every finger, and on the part of my hand between my forefinger and thumb. It hurt to move them, let alone hold a shovel. My shoulders and arms resembled a freshly cooked lobster, and I'm sure my face looked like a ripe tomato. I slowly began digging aagin. I couldn't wait for my shower.
I cursed aloud the side of my hole suddenly crumbled. I paused for a moment. I would have to dig deeper before I could widen the hole more, or else the whole thing would cave in.
I looked up. X-Ray was standing next to his hole, shovel in hand. He turned to his hole, spat in it, and left. I sighed.
My shovel plunged into the earth again, and I pried more dirt out. I'm almost done, I reminded myself. Just a couple more feet, and then I'm done. My hands felt like they were on fire, and I had long ago lost feeling in my arms and face. I could tell my Irish heritage wouldn't be very forgiving in the sunburn aspect.
One by one, the rest of D-Tent finished. One by one, they climbed out of their hole; one by one, they spat; one by one they left back for camp. Soon, I was the only one left.
I took a drink from my canteen and measured my hole. It wasn't quite perfect; precisely five feet on one end and maybe about four and three quarter's feet on the other. I shucked some more dirt out, rounded off the edges, and leaned against the side. Exactly five feet from top to bottom, and five feet in every direction. I was finished.
With some difficulty, I heaved myself out of my hole and stood shakily to my feet. My hair had chunks of sand in it, dirt was practically embedded under my nails, and I could barely lift my shovel. With my last ounce of strength, I gathered the last bit of saliva and spat.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
