Chapter 22

The only good thing about Pendanski calling tent meetings was that Mickey didn't have to stray far from the kitchen. She liked being there; people left her alone, it was quiet, turning a big glob of nothing into a semi edible glob of something filled her with pride despite the circumstances, and it relaxed her. Well, as much as she could relax while doing absolutely nothing like Caveman suggested.

She didn't get it, how he could be so…calm about it. She was on track to figuring out something, she knew it, she could feel it in her gut and her gut's never wrong. But here she was still biding her time for…what? He didn't seem to be making moves in any sort of direction about it all.

Not that she had much to go by either. She had information but, honestly, she didn't know what to do with it. She didn't have her phone, she didn't have access to the computer, and she was sure that her letters weren't reaching their intended destinations. The camp did a good job of keeping them in the dark, keeping them isolated, and keeping them quiet. Being quiet was what she was good at, it was taught to her practically from birth, it was ingrained in her DNA. But how could she use that to her advantage?

"P-Q-R-S-T," Armpit's belching recital broke into her thoughts. She blinked, shook her head, and forced herself to focus on the display ahead of her.

She didn't know how their tent meeting turned into a talent show. It was supposed to be about the steps they'd take to continue their education which segued into their favorite school subjects. (Like any of them gave a damn about school when they were collectively facing years of jail time.) And somehow it went completely off the rails and their meeting turned into a display of their hidden talents. Pendanski tried to get a hold of it, to create some semblance of rules and structure but he was shot down real fast.

Mickey, Caveman, and Magnet became the judges, scribbling down scores on a scrap bit of paper they found. Judging scores were up for debate and half points could be given or taken whenever someone felt like it. So far X-Ray had a score of 6.5 for whistling through his fists and sounding like a morning dove (how Zigzag knew it was a morning dove specifically, they didn't know). Zigzag rested at a 7.

"Y—and—Zeeeeeeee." Armpit held out the last note, pressing his hands against his stomach.

Mickey's nose wrinkled while applause broke out amongst the boys in the group. Well, she shouldn't complain. At least it was coming out the front end and not the back.

"That gets an eight," Magnet said, holding up the paper he'd put his score on.

"I'll say…7.5," Caveman said.

"I'm giving it a 5," Mickey announced.

"A five!?" Armpit's eyes widened. "Man, c'mon, I burped out the whole alphabet. Without soda."

"Zigzag peeled and ate a banana. With his feet!" Mickey replied. "Burping the alphabet isn't that hard. I could do that."

"Really?" X-Ray's eyes lit up behind his large glasses. "Do we get to see that trick?"

She brushed him off with a quick, "I'm a judge, I'm not participating. Okay, that averages your score out to…"

"Six point eight," Zero said at the tail end of Mickey's breath. The usual bit of silence followed Zero speaking up. He hadn't said a word since they returned to the Mess Hall for the meeting. Not that it was out of the norm, but he watched them all, eyes bouncing around every time someone spoke. Following the conversation like a haunted painting on a wall, eyes shifting from side to side.

She quickly did the math on her paper and smiled. "Yeah, that's right! Thanks, Zero." She lifted her smile his way. He stared back at her. She felt it all the way down to her toes. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she sucked in a breath, followed by clearing her throat. "Okay then. Who's next?"

"Squidly!" Zigzag announced, patting Squid on the shoulder. He twisted his mouth to the side as Zigzag dropped down on the bench next to him.

Mickey glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing. No snide comment? Odd. He'd been eerily quiet lately. Didn't fight back to jokes thrown his way, didn't offer up threats to anyone who looked at him the wrong way twice, he didn't even react when they had his favorite dinner served: franks and beans. (Well, it was really spam and old refried beans so that one had its own explanation). He just dug his hole, laid on his cot, and sat around, listless.

"I don't know how you can score someone on just standing there pulling the same face," X-Ray spoke up, his shoulders shaking with a suppressed smile. Squid's eyes shifted over to him, but he remained silent.

"Now, Rex, we shouldn't pressure people into something they don't want to do," Pendanski spoke up.

"Hey, if we all have to suffer through this torture then he should too."

"Maybe he doesn't have a talent," Magnet spoke up.

"Are you excluding his brooding? He has a lock on that."

"Yeah, maybe we should make him," Armpit said from where he took his seat next to X-Ray. His arms crossed over his chest and his bottom lip curled upwards into a pout.

"Keep making that face and I'll bring your score down to a four," Mickey threatened.

"Of course, you'd come in to protect him," X-Ray said, rolling his eyes.

"He looks sick! Just leave him there!" Though 'sick' was a nice way of putting it. He looked like a wreck. If it weren't for seeing it with her own two eyes, she'd be worried that he wasn't eating at all. In fact, when she could manage it, she snuck him extra bread or a bigger than usual serving of dinner. Eagle didn't hide his disdain; actually, he barely said two words to her which simultaneously irked her and was a relief. She didn't have time to worry about why he was acting so strangely lately. Not on top of everything else.

"He's fine," Pendanski said, barely sparing a glance Squid's way. "He'll be fine."

"If he's so fine he can show his talent with us," X-Ray pressed.

"Fuck off," Squid mumbled.

"Hey now. We're all putting ourselves out there. I think it's only fair that we all share something about ourselves. In the name of tent bonding and all."

"D'you want your face to bond with my fist?" The words barely tumbled out of Squid's mouth, but they all felt the weight behind his words, the glare in his stare.

"Let's just move on," Caveman suggested.

"Okay, then, let's get Zero to share with us," X-Ray said, turning his sights. Zero squinted his eyes, his jaw clenching. "It's only fair."

"He already has his talent. He's a mime!" Zigzag joked, his smile stretching across his face. He bumped fists with Magnet's extended hand.

"He gets a 10 for that!" Magnet said, holding up his paper.

"Just ignore them. They'll move on," Mickey muttered to Caveman the moment she spied his tightening grip on his pencil and the stiffening of his jaw. "Besides," she raised her voice, "we can always dock some scores."

"Hey! I'm in the lead!" Zigzag protested. "I want that prize!"

Mickey grimaced. The prize, as Pendanski had announced at the beginning of their meeting, wasn't much. Replacing their fruit cups with a pudding cup. But when you're stuck with bland fruit simmering in juice that tasted a little off, they'd take warm pudding over it any day. it was a change.

Things didn't change much in Camp Green Lake.

"By the way, why can't we go for the prize?" Magnet asked. He motioned to himself, Caveman, and Mickey.

Mickey sat up straight. Her lips parted and her eyes widened a she looked between them. Her heart thrummed. Oh shit. Was it an actual drawing at random that Pendanski picked them? Or was there a specific point to his choices?

Peering at Caveman out the corner of her eye, she watched as he began to drum his fingers against the tabletop. It couldn't…no….but it couldn't be possible…could it? That they knew? That they heard their conversation?

Zigzag had always gone on and on about cameras and microscopes. But she ignored that, especially since Squid said he had acute paranoia. Hell, Zig had even side-eyed her the first few weeks she was there, claiming that she was some sort of spy and was going to change everything. And something about peaches. She ignored that too.

Shit, shit, shit! She did her best to keep her breathing even as she studied Pendanski's face. He kept the genial smile on as he answered Magnet's question but his answer didn't make it pass the buzzing in her head as her racing thoughts collided.

No, no. That couldn't be it. If they knew, they'd be punished by now, even if having Magnet sitting there was a diversion. They were still fine. Still safe. For now.

"Uhh, hey, X-Ray's kinda right." Mickey quickly swallowed the sour bile that shot up her throat from uttering those words. "It's only fair that we join in too. I mean, that's kind of the point with tent bonding."

X-Ray's eyebrow lifted. "Well, if she says I'm right—"

"Kind of right," Mickey corrected, jabbing the end of her pencil in his direction.

"Great!" Magnet jumped up form behind the table and hurried to the center of the room, digging a deck of cards out of his pocket. "Anyone want to see a magic trick?"

"That's your talent?" X-Ray asked with a snort. "Magic?"

"Hey, these magnetic fingers aren't just for liberating puppies," Magnet said with a grin.

"Yeah, well, let's see it then," Armpit said, leaning forward in his seat. Mickey didn't miss the way his eyes lit up as he spoke.

Magnet made a show of shuffling the cards in his hands and wiggling his fingers. He said something in Spanish to go along with the show. Mickey's teeth grinded on the end of the pencil, flakes of eraser broke off and dotted her tongue. Better than her nails; less germs and her mother made sure she quit that bad habit a long time ago.

"Relax," Caveman said. His words were so quiet and his lips moved so little that she wasn't sure he had said anything at first.

"Easy for you to say," she replied out the side of her mouth.

"They don't know anything."

"They could! Cameras and microphones, remember?"

"They wouldn't waste their time."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Remember how fast Squid got punished for breaking the pencil? Or when Easy smashed someone else's canteen? Or when Pit broke off the TV dial? They actually did something. Talking isn't doing anything. We're still fine."

"Oh yeah?" Mickey scoffed, keeping her eyes trained on Armpit who was now on the floor on his knees, staring intently at the cards flashing through Magnet's hands. "B-Tent has been harassing me since I got here, the rest of our tent hazed me for days, and X kept taking my food. They all did something, and they never got punished for it. So, what, they're just picking and choosing?"

"I…guess?" Caveman cleared his throat. "I'm…sorry that happened to you. And I get you're mad—"

"I'm not mad," Mickey interrupted. And it was as she uttered those words that she realized she really wasn't. It took too much energy to be mad. She didn't have much left in her anymore. And being angry lead her there in the first place. "I'm fed up."

"Yeah, me too." Caveman and Mickey looked up to see Magnet looking at them, his eyes shifting from face to face. "So, what's my score?"

"Uhhh…" Forcing her attention away from Caveman, Mickey scribbled a number down on the paper and held it out to him. "You get an 8!" She put a bright smile on her face to accompany her announcement. Stealing a glance at Pendanski, she eased her tense shoulders down from her ears. He didn't seem to have paid any particular attention to their conversation.

"Yeah, I give you an 8 too," Caveman said, holding up his paper.

"We need one more judges score."

"I give him a three," Armpit grumbled.

"Man, you're only mad you couldn't figure out my trick!" Magnet said, turning back to him.

"Yeah, 'cause you cheatin'!"

"I'm not cheating. It's magic! I can't reveal my tricks to you."

"Not like Pit would understand it anyway," Zigzag said, twisting a strand of his wild hair around his finger as he laughed.

"Now, boys, knock it off. Theodore, don't worry, magicians rely on sleight of hand to fool the audience and keep them in on the trick," Pendanski spoke up, his white teeth gleaming beneath the foggy yellowed lamplights overhead. "Magnet, I'm giving you an eight as well."

"So that's an 8. You're the highest score," Mickey announced. "You win." She put her pencil down and moved to get up from behind the table.

"Wait, you haven't shown us your talent yet," Zigzag said.

She froze halfway between sitting and standing. She was sure she looked as if she was in the middle of laying an egg. "Neither has Caveman," she pointed out.

"What's he going to show? How he swings a club?" X-Ray asked.

"Yeah, I'd much rather see what you have to show," Zigzag said.

"Look, I don't have a talent," Mickey said, waving her hand. She stood at full height, brushing her hair out of her face. "I mean I dance but—" The minute the boys sat up straighter in their chairs she knew she said the wrong thing. "That's not a talent! I had to practice to get good." And give up a lot of afternoons, weekends, and holidays.

"There's no need to be modest," X-Ray said. His lips curled in the corners and he briefly sucked his lip into his mouth before continuing. "So, what's your specialty?"

She lifted an eyebrow. "Grape stomping. Want a demonstration?" X-Ray's smile immediately fell from his face as the other boys hooted. She crossed her arms, drumming her fingers against her skin. "But if you must know, I can do a little bit of everything. Modern, jazz, tap, waltz, ballet, hip-hop, lyrical, swing, foxtrot. Et-cetera, et-cetera. It's really nothing special."

"No, show us! Show us!" Armpit said. "Do one of those…spin thingies."

"A pirouette?"

"Yeah, that!"

Her eyes bounced from one face to the next and she sighed. There was no way she'd get out of this one. Ignoring their stares, she moved out from behind the table and into the clearing in the middle of the Mess hall. She kept her eye on a support beam ahead of her, using it as a spot. She brought her right foot back behind her, keeping it in fourth position. She brought her arms up and allowed muscle memory to take over the rest. Even though it was a little difficult in her large boots, she managed one turn, and another, and another in succession, kicking her leg out to aid in the next turn.

It hit her all at once: the familiar tidal wave that simultaneously calmed her nerves and emptied her mind. So, for those few seconds she wasn't Mouse, a camper, she wasn't Mickey the victim, nor Mickey the liar, she just was. She existed. She was there. And it felt good.

She came out of her turn—a little sloppily, her mother would point out—and dropped her arms. She was met with stares and silence. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and wrung it through her fingers. She shrugged. "I told you…no big deal."

"…Cool," Armpit said, followed by a nod. X-Ray also nodded, as did Magnet and Zigzag.

A small laugh—half relief, half surprise—burst out of her and she dipped in a small curtsey. "I could teach you if you wanted."

"Not unless you want Pit to start an earthquake," X-Ray cracked. Armpit shoved him, nearly making him topple off the bench.

"Caveman? Zero? What about you guys?" Magnet asked.

"Maybe Zero can show us how he digs so fast," Zigzag said.

"That aint a talent, man!"

"No, it's magic or somethin'. Maybe he actually does eat the dirt."

The boys laughed. Zero remained silent, pressing his lips together. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"He's gotta be good for somethin'," Pendanski commented, causing the boys to laugh again, save for Mickey and Caveman. "Alright!" He glanced at his watch and clapped his hands together. "That's all for tonight! Jose, you're the lucky winner! I'll remember to bring your prize tomorrow!" Armpit asked about Caveman's talent; when he mentioned something about knot tying, they shut him down without a moment's hesitation. Standing, Pendanski looked them over. "I know you boys have been working hard lately"—he ignored the withering look Mickey shot his way—"and I just want to say that we appreciate you all cooperating with us." No one said a word. He tipped his head and left the Mess Hall, signaling the end of the tent meeting. Squid was the first to jump out of his seat and leave.

The cool night air smacked Mickey in the face, a welcomed reprieve from the sticky, humid air that seemed forever trapped in the Mess Hall. She shoved her hands into her pockets and tilted her head, looking up at the star dotted sky. She supposed that was one good thing about being out in the middle of the desert; they didn't get sky quite like that back in Austin. It was almost as if God threw a fistful of glitter into the air.

"Lookin' for aliens?"

Mickey looked over at Zigzag whose eyes somehow appeared to be two times bigger beneath the moonlight overhead. He fell into step with her. "Think I already found one," she joked, flashing a small smile. "Don't know many people who can open bananas with their feet."

"I was bored one day."

"Wonder what you can do when you're not bored."

"Build robots." Mickey gave him an odd look. "I was on the robotics team at school. I like putting things together."

"Ah." She nodded. She had a difficult time placing him in a school setting. Hell, she had a difficult time thinking about school at all. It might as well be a world away. "That's…interesting." She strained to keep from wrinkling her nose. Robots weren't exactly her thing. "I'm sure it was fun."

"Yeah. It was cool. There's not enough stuff around here to make one, though. I'd use the TV but I like watching it."

"Well, I don't think anyone else would miss it."

"Maybe." He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. His adam's apple stuck out making him resemble a Pez dispenser. Mickey smiled at the image. "You're nice when you're not being stuck up."

The topic change gave her whiplash. Her smile dropped and her surprise quickly shifted to confusion and settled on indignant. "What? I'm not stuck up!"

"Yeah you are." Zigzag lowered his head. "Or you were. You're not now. You joined in on the game."

"When was I ever stuck up?" She crossed her arms, waiting. After all, there was no way he could come up with any sort of instance. She didn't do anything to them. She left them alone. She kept to herself. She minded her own business. In what world would that make someone stuck up?

Zigzag shrugged. "Most of the time. Like you think you're better than us. Or you don't belong."

"I don't."

"Yeah, like that."

"No, I…" She pushed a breath out of her nose and grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt to keep him from walking. "Technically I'm not supposed to be."

"I get it."

She gritted her teeth. "No, I mean, not here. Camp Green lake. Juvenile detention, yes, here? No." She released him. "I don't think I'm better than you guys or anything."

"Then why don't you hang out with us?"

Was he kidding? She stared. He stared back. She blinked first; something told her that his owlish eyes won every staring contest he found himself in. If his manner alone didn't freak people out first. "Because you guys kept hazing me?" she offered. He continued to stare. She listed on her fingers, "The scorpion? The waterboarding? The honey on the pillow? Ring a bell?"

"We've done worse. You should've seen what happened to Screamo."

"Is that supposed to make it better?"

"That was a long time ago. We're trying. Why can't you?"

Mickey stared at his retreating back, gobsmacked. She wasn't stuck up. She wasn't in the wrong. So…why did she feel like she'd been reprimanded? A quiet laugh of disbelief pushed out of her. Maybe she tended to avoid people that went out of their way to make her feel like shit, but there was no way that made her stuck up. Okay, yeah, she conceded that things were better between her and D-Tent recently, but didn't they all say not to trust one another?

It was like the closer she got to the finish line the more they moved the goal, or the rules were in a constant state of flux.

Resuming the rest of the short walk to D-Tent, Mickey scuffed her boots against the ground as she walked. Zigzag's words needled at her, poked her nerves and demanded to be heard. Her mouth twisted to the side; heat filled her cheeks and shame settled on her shoulders like an old shrug or an arm of an old friend. Welcome back. Her shoulders sagged, weary. She couldn't wait to lie down.

She came up short when she collided with someone's back, uttering a low "oof!" at the impact. Rubbing her forehead, she noticed Magnet and Zigzag looking back at her. "Guys, if it's another scorpion, we've seen them before," she grumbled. "Just pick it up and take it out."

Neither of them said a word. A rock dropped into her stomach. She squeezed her way past them, moving further into the tent, taking in their strange looks until she reached the back where her sleeping bag lay.

Well, where it used to. It sat in a crumpled heap, contrary to how she left it flat and zipped up. Nearby her crate lay tipped over on its side. Her eyes followed the trail of torn, creased, and dirt smudged pages of her book to the empty, shell of a cover, to the base of her snowglobe. Large chunks of glass were scattered over the sleeping bag, traces of glitter splashed across the surface as the water soaked through the fabric.

A loud hum sounded in her ears. It became difficult to swallow and her heavy breaths stuttered while surveying the wreckage, of the shattered remains of the only tether she had to her family and her home outside. She didn't feel it when her fingers got pricked by the pieces of glass she picked up; beads of dotted her skin. The smashed pieces of the Broadway posters swirled, danced, and blended within her teary gaze as pinpricks pinched the backs of her eyes.

The murmured apologies and threats to the culprits from her tentmates did little to keep the tears from carving tracks down her cheeks. The droplets slipped into the corners of her mouth, salt skittering across her tongue. It was only when an arm draped over her shoulders and Squid's whispered "Sorry, Diz" into her ear did her carefully constructed dam break and allowed grief to flood her.

a/n - A bit of a filler chapter that's light and fun (until the end, anyway). Anyone else think Magnet would be a good magician/illusionist? So we got X-Ray who could be a used-car salesman, Magnet who could be an illusionist, Zigzag likes working on robots. They have more avenues available for the futures than they thought, eh? This chapter would've been up sooner but I had a difficult time ending it, I changed it three times before I went with this one and, gotta say, I'm loving my choice! Shit's about to go down! People don't mess with each other's lifelines at Camp Green Lake and get away with it. Thanks to all who have been reading! Please leave a review!

Also, never thought I'd be writing 100k words for a Holes fic but here we are! I'm enjoying everything minute of it!

Review replies

LittleBlueSweater: My main goal in writing this is to get everyone to want to hug Squid whether he likes it or not. He's gonna get some love and he'll have to deal with it! As tough as Squid is, truth be told, he knows he wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't for having Mickey around to support him and cheer him on. (Even though he squanders a lot of the opportunities she can bring to him but, hey, self-preservation habits die hard.) Funny you mention, I go back and forth using canon from the movie, book, and field guild while throwing my own ideas in that I'm honestly not sure how I'll end it so far. I have two different ideas and I don't know which is stronger yet but, hey, maybe I'll post the one I don't choose as a special alternate ending chapter. Oh, dude, thanks so much! You left me flipping out over your kind words! I always hope that my writing improves with each chapter and to know that someone has viewed it as such means more to me than you know! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

*8/30* Jan: I'm replying here rather than the next chapter only because I know I'm not going to get that posted soon. Thanks for your review and thank you for pointing out my inaccuracies! I've read blogs and medical sites and watched youtube videos when I decided for Squid to have diabetes and thought I had a good grasp on the information provided to portray it in this fic in regards to the punishment and treatment some of the misbehaving campers would have; in this case, having some of his medical supplies taken away as punishment despite needing it for his survival. In my quest to show just how bad the camp could be, I portrayed a serious medical issue in the wrong way. I was wrong. I'll go back and fix my mistakes. Thank you again for taking the time to let me know of my errors!