Stanley felt somewhat dazed as the guard unlocked his handcuffs and led him off the bus. The bus ride had taken over 8 hours.

"Be careful," the driver warned as Stanley walked down the steps.

He wasn't sure if the driver meant for him to be careful going down the steps, or to be careful at Camp Green Lake. "Thanks for the ride," he said to the driver. His mouth was dry and his throat was beginning to hurt. He stepped off the bus, onto the hard, dry ground. The handcuff had left a band of sweat on his wrist.

The land was barren and desolate. He could see a few run-down buildings and some tents. Outside the buildings, there were boys in orange jumpsuits. "Yo, fresh meat!" someone yelled.

A bit further away there was a cabin beneath two tall trees. Those trees were the only vegetation the little town seemed to have. Stanley didn't even see weeds.

The guard led Stanley into a small building. OFFICE was written next to the door. Below it was a sign which said that it was a violation of the Texas Penal Code to bring weapons, drugs, or explosives onto the premises.

He couldn't help but think to himself, "well, duh!" as he read the sign.

Stanley followed the guard into the building, where he felt the welcome relief of an electric fan.

A woman was sitting behind a cluttered desk. She turned her head when Stanley and the guard entered, but otherwise did not move. Her face was covered with freckles, and her long, frizzy red hair was pulled back in a braid. Even though she was inside, she wore sunglasses and a cream-colored cowboy hat. Her sleeves were rolled up and she chewed on sunflower seeds and spit the shells into a jar. She also held a can of soda, which made Stanley even more aware of his thirst.

Stanley waited as the guard gave the woman a clipboard of papers to sign.

"What's with the sunflower seeds, Lou?" the guard asked. Stanley got the feeling the guard knew the woman well. He probably accompanied all of the new delinquents to Camp Green Lake.

"I quit smoking last month," said the woman. Her voice was soft and she had a tattoo of a rattlesnake on her right forearm. Its rattle seemed to wiggle as she signed the papers. "I used to smoke a pack a day. Now I eat a sack of these every week".

The guard laughed.

The woman spit out more sunflower seed shells and turned to Stanley. She glanced at the files the guard had given her.

"Stanley Yelnats…The fourth?" Stanley nodded. "Yeah. Everyone in my family names their son Stanley because it's 'Yelnats' backwards. It's like a little…tradition."

"My name is Mrs. Ma'am," the woman said. "Whenever you speak to me, you must call me by my name. Is that clear?"

Stanley hesitated. "Yes, Mrs. Ma'am," he said, though he doubted that was really her name.

"This ain't a girl scout camp," Mrs. Ma'am said. "Understand?"

Mrs. Ma'am stood up. She was a very tall woman, taller than him by a couple inches.

She produced two more cans of soda from a small refrigerator behind the desk. For a second, Stanley thought maybe one was for him, but Mrs. Ma'am handed them both to the guard and said one was for the driver. Stanley actually felt sorry for the driver and the guard when he thought about the long, hot miserable bus ride. Mrs. Ma'am saw him eyeing the soda cans.

"You thirsty, Stanley?" Mrs. Ma'am asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Ma'am," Stanley answered.

"Well, you better get used to it," Mrs. Ma'am said. "You're gonna be thirsty for the next eighteen months." Behind him, the guard snapped the soda can open. The guard nodded to Mrs. Ma'am and left the building and stepped onto the bus. Stanley saw the bus speed away from the camp.

Mrs. Ma'am stepped outside too, to give Stanley a "tour" of the camp.

"Look around here, Yelnats," she said, walking ahead of him like a true cowgirl. "What do you see?"

Stanley looked out across the vast wasteland. There was nothing to see.

"Any guard towers?" Mrs. Ma'am asked. "Or an electric fence?"

Stanley shook his head. "No, Mrs. Ma'am."

"You wanna run away?" Mrs. Ma'am asked him. "Go ahead, start running. I won't stop you."

Stanley didn't know what kind of game Mrs. Ma'am was playing.

Mrs. Ma'am turned to one of the buildings, and to a boy glaring at them from the old wooden porch of the building. "I'm warnin' you!" she yelled.

"You heard her, Spence!" a man in a cowboy hat said.

Stanley then noticed that she had a revolver in a holster on her belt.

"Oh, don't worry," Mrs. Ma'am said, tapping her holster. She pulled the revolver out. "This here's for the Yellow-Spotted Lizards. I wouldn't waste a bullet on you."

"I'm not going to run away, Mrs. Ma'am," Stanley said quietly.

"Good thinkin', Yelnats," Mrs. Ma'am said. "No one runs away from here. You know why? 'Cause we've got the only water for a-hundred miles. Our own little oasis. You wanna run away? You'll be buzzard food by the end of the third day."

Stanley was led into a small shed filled with supplies. Inside there was an older boy, maybe a year or two older than Stanley. His light-brown hair was slicked back to the bottom of his neck, and his face had an unfriendly look on it. "Hi Mrs. Ma'am," the boy said. The orange jumpsuit was tied around his waist, revealing a white T-shirt.

In the shed, there were shelves of black leather boots and orange jumpsuits. Other items cluttered the small space.

Mrs. Ma'am glanced at Stanley as she threw a pair of boots at him. Stanley caught them, and then Mrs. Ma'am told him to undress.

Stanley glanced uneasily at the other boy, but Mrs. Ma'am just took things out of the shelves.

He sighed, and set his backpack on the floor. As quickly as he could, he changed into a white T-shirt and orange jumpsuit, exchanging his sneakers for the pair of boots. He also had to strip, so Mrs. Ma'am could see he wasn't hiding anything. Mrs. Ma'am gave his backpack to the other boy, who quickly searched it. He received everything inside, and was grateful.

"You get two sets of clothes," Mrs. Ma'am said. "One for work and one for relaxation. After three days, your work clothes will be washed and your second set becomes your work clothes. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Ma'am," Stanley said, tightening the lace of one of his boots.

"You are to dig one hole each day," Mrs. Ma'am told him. "Five foot deep, five foot wide. Your shovel is your measuring stick. The longer it takes you to dig, the longer you'll be out in the hot sun. You need to watch for lizards and rattlesnakes."

"Rattlesnakes?" Stanley asked.

"If you don't bother them, they won't bother you," Mrs. Ma'am explained. "Usually. Gettin' bit by a rattler ain't the worst thing that can happen to you. You won't die…usually. But, you don't wanna get bit by a Yellow-Spotted Lizard. That is the worst thing that can happen to you. You will die, a slow and painful death. Always."