Dedication

  To Hudson Brotspies, Andi Kristall,

  Dan McKenzie, Lee Rozenbaunn,

  and Derek Scarcella

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1. Noooooooooooo!

  2. Camp Ahdoanwanna

  3. Go Jump in a Lake

  4. The Mess Hall

  5. Rest Hour Is Boring

  6. Lights Out

  7. Unhappy Campers

  8. The Indoor Olympics

  9. Good Surprises and Bad Surprises

  10. This Means War!

  11. The End of Everything

  Bonus: Weird Extras

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  My name is A.J., and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about cars with toilets. I know because that’s what I’m thinking about.

  Why don’t they put toilets in cars? If they put a toilet in every car, you wouldn’t have to drive around searching for a bathroom every time you need to go.

  That’s a genius idea! No wonder I’m in the gifted and talented program.

  My point is, it was Friday, and it was the last day of school. Or as I call it, THE GREATEST DAY IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD! I couldn’t stop smiling as I cleaned out my desk and got ready for the dismissal bell.

  Brrrrrrrrriiiiiinnnnnnggggg!

  “YAY!” That’s also “YAY” backward. My friends Ryan and Michael and I started singing that old song “School’s . . . out . . . for . . . summer!” YouTube it.

  But as soon as I got home, my parents dropped the hammer on me.

  “We have great news, A.J.,” they said.

  Uh-oh. Any time your parents say they have great news, you know something horrible is about to happen. That’s the first rule of grown-ups.

  “You’re having a baby?” I asked.

  My parents laughed even though I didn’t say anything funny.

  “No,” said my dad. “This summer, we’re sending you to sleepaway camp.”

  What?! Noooooooooooo!

  Back in ancient times when dinosaurs roamed the earth, both of my parents went to sleepaway camp. They’re always talking about how much they loved going to camp during the summer.

  Mom: Remember making s’mores around the campfire, honey?

  Dad: And hiking in the woods!

  Mom: And swimming! And playing sports!

  Dad: The great outdoors!

  Mom: And making friendships that last a lifetime!

  Dad: And learning survival skills. Such great memories!

  Mom: And these days they probably have pickleball!

  “Summer camp was where we first met and fell in love,” said my dad. “Remember, dear?”

  “Of course I do!”

  Then they started smooching and getting all lovey-dovey. Gross. Smooching should be illegal.

  “I don’t want to go to sleepaway camp,” I insisted.

  “Well,” my dad said, “what do you want to do over summer vacation?”

  “I want to play video games and watch TV,” I replied.

  “You do that every day, A.J.,” said my mom. “You spend way too much time staring at screens as it is. You need to be outside, in the fresh air.”

  “We could bring the TV outside,” I said hopefully.

  “No!” shouted both my parents.

  “How about sending me to Antarctica for the summer?” I asked. “I’ll go live with the penguins. That would be outside.”

  “We’re not sending you to Antarctica,” my dad said firmly.

  “It’s just a week, sweetie,” said my mom. “You’ll have fun!”

  “A week is seven days!” I protested.* “I want to stay home and be with my friends.”

  “We already talked with your friends’ parents,” my mom told me. “Michael is going to sleepaway camp. So is Ryan. Neil will be there too. All your friends will be there.”

  I didn’t care who’s gonna be there. This was sure to be the worst summer in the history of summers.

  On Sunday, we drove a million hundred miles until there weren’t any houses or stores on the side of the road anymore. This dumb sleepaway camp was in the middle of nowhere.

  Or maybe it was in the edge of nowhere. How can nowhere have a middle? My point is, there was nothing around. If a spaceship landed in the road and some aliens kidnapped us, nobody would know about it.

  “I gotta pee,” I told my parents.

  “Is it an emergency, A.J.?” asked my mom. “We’ll be at the camp any minute.”

  Man, they should really put toilets in cars. Toilets should be like seatbelts.

  Finally, we came to a sign at the side of the road—CAMP AHDOANWANNA. We had to drive a long way on a dusty dirt road through the woods until we reached the camp.

  You know who really loves going to sleepaway camp? Mosquitoes! As soon as I got out of the car, I was attacked by a swarm of them. They were all over the place.

  That was weird. Mosquitoes can go anywhere they want. Why do they all go to sleepaway camp?

  A golf cart came zipping down the dirt road and stopped in front of us. Some old guy with a beard hopped out. His T-shirt said “Camp Ahdoanwanna” on it.

  “Welcome!” he said, pumping my hand, “I’m Uncle Ahdoanwanna, the director of Camp Ahdoanwanna! Are you ready to have fun, fun, fun?”

  “No, no, no,” I replied.

  “Ha-ha-ha!” he laughed. “Kids always say that. But I promise you, six days from now, you’ll be crying your eyes out because you won’t want to go home.”

  “I really doubt that,” I told him.

  Uncle Ahdoanwanna checked his clipboard for my name. Then he showed me which bunk I should go to. It was right next to the big flagpole in the middle of all the bunks. I dragged my duffel bag out of the car while my parents talked to Uncle Ahdoanwanna about the weather and other stuff grown-ups care about.

  Some kids were hanging out on the front porch of the bunk. As I got closer, I saw Michael, Ryan, Neil, and a boy I didn’t know.

  “I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to sleepaway camp,” I told my friends.

  “I only came because my parents said you would be here,” Michael said to Ryan.

  “I only came because my parents said you would be here,” Ryan said to Michael.

  “I only came because my parents said you three would be here,” said Neil.

  Oh, great. None of us wanted to go to sleepaway camp. Our parents tricked us into going by telling us the rest of us would be going.*

  Mom and Dad came over to me to say goodbye.

  “Well, this is it,” said my dad. “You’re going to have a great time, A.J. We’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “You be a good boy,” said my mom, giving me a hug.

  “No hugging in front of the guys!” I told her.

  “We love you, A.J.,” said my dad.

  Not the L word! Gross!

  “I can’t believe it,” my mom said with tears in her eyes. “Look at you, such a big boy going to sleepaway camp. It seems like only yesterday that you were in diapers.”

  Then they drove away.

  “You were in diapers yesterday?” Ryan asked. The guys all laughed even though he didn’t say anything funny.

  I dragged my duffel bag into the bunk. There were mosquitoes in there too. I could already feel the bites on my arms and legs.

  Everything inside the bunk was made out of wood. It was like Abraham Lincoln’s house. The one kid I didn’t know followed me inside.

  “Psssssssst!” he whispered. “C’mere.”

  I went over to him. He was wearing a trench coat, like spies wear. What is his problem? Who wears a trench coat during the summer?

  “You new?” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” I told him.

  “Well, I’ve been coming to this camp since I was six,” he whispered. “I know all the ins and outs. What’s your name?”

  “A.J.,” I told him. “What’s yours?”

  “Shhhhh!” he whispered, for no reason. “Everybody calls me . . . Candyman.”

  “Why do they call you Candyman?” I asked Candyman.

  He opened his trench coat. All kinds of candy were hanging from it. Kit Kats. Milk Duds. Sugar Babies. Twix. Snickers. Mars bars. It was like his trench coat was a candy store.

  “You like candy?” he whispered. “I’m your man. I’ll set you up. I’ve got gummy bears, jawbreakers, Skittles, whatever you need. Just don’t tell anybody. It will be our little secret.”

  “Maybe later,” I replied.

  That Candyman kid is weird. My parents always tell me not to take candy from strangers, and this kid was stranger than anybody.

  I looked around. There were bunk beds in the bunk, of course. I guess that’s why they’re called bunk beds. If I picked a top bunk, I might roll over and fall out of bed in the middle of the night. And if I picked a bottom bunk, some kid in the top bunk might roll over, fall out of bed in the middle of the night, and land on top of me. I didn’t know which was worse.

  It didn’t matter because, by the time I got there, there was only one empty bed left. I started to unpack my stuff. That’s when Ryan, Michael, and Neil came in from the porch. They were with some tall, skinny teenager.

  “Gather around, Owls,” he told us.

  “Owls?”

  “Every bunk has a name,” the teenager said. “It’s
a camp tradition. We’re the Owls.”

  “Are you our counselor?” I asked him.

  “No, Einstein,” he replied. “I’m Santa Claus.”

  I think that’s called sarcasm. That’s when somebody says mean stuff to make you look dumb. Teenagers are sarcastic all the time. I hope I never become a teenager.

  The counselor said we should call him Uncle Ray. All the guys who work at Camp Ahdoanwanna are called uncle even if they’re not your uncle. Nobody knows why. I guess it’s another camp tradition.

  “You boys are going to remember this summer for the rest of your lives,” said Uncle Ray. “You know why?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because it’s gonna be horrible!” Uncle Ray replied. “There are bugs everywhere. It’s hot, dirty, and smelly. You’ll probably get hurt. You’ll make enemies that will last a lifetime. If you’re lucky, you’ll get food poisoning so you can go home early.”

  Camp sounded terrible.

  “So why are you here?” Ryan asked Uncle Ray.

  “I got bad grades in school,” he explained. “My parents are punishing me by forcing me to take care of you twerps.”

  Uncle Ray was a real downer.

  “Let’s go over the rules,” he said. “Rule number one—no candy in the bunk. It attracts bugs and mice and other non-human creatures.”

  I shot a look at Candyman, and he winked at me.

  “The bugs are already in here,” muttered Michael.

  “Hey, I don’t make the rules,” said Uncle Ray. “Rule number two—lights out at nine o’clock sharp.”

  What?! At home, I get to stay up late during the summer.

  “Rule number three,” Uncle Ray said. “Every morning before breakfast, we clean up the bunk. There’s a chore wheel on the wall by the door.”

  What?!

  “We have to clean?”

  “I don’t have to clean at home!”

  “It’s not fair!”

  We were all whining.

  “Rule number four,” Uncle Ray said. “No whining.”

  Oh, man! If you ask me, Camp Ahdoanwanna should be called Camp Jail.

  “Finally,” said Uncle Ray, “you need to learn the Owl bunk cheer. Repeat after me. Hoot, hoot, hoot! We don’t give a hoot!”

  “HOOT, HOOT, HOOT! WE DON’T GIVE A HOOT!” we all yelled, even though the cheer is totally lame.

  “If you have any questions,” said Uncle Ray, “Ahdoanwanna hear ’em.”

  “What’s that stuff hanging from the ceiling?” Neil asked.

  I looked up. There were strips of yellow paper dangling down from the rafters.

  “That’s flypaper,” said Uncle Ray. “It’s coated with sticky poison, so flies stick to it and die. We also have bees, ants, mice, bats, spiders, skunks, and snakes.”

  Snakes?! Everybody was freaking out.

  “Don’t worry,” said Uncle Ray. “If you get bitten by a snake and you die, your parents get some of their money back.”

  “Do we ever get to have any fun?” asked Neil.

  “Yeah,” said Uncle Ray. “Six days from now. When you go home.”

  I remembered that I never got the chance to pee on the drive to camp. Now I really had to go.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, looking around the bunk.

  “It’s in the woods, down the road,” said Uncle Ray. “Just make a left at the rock that looks like a bear. Then make a right at the bear that looks like a rock. You can’t miss it.”

  “Where’s the TV?” Neil asked.

  “In your dreams,” replied Uncle Ray. “Look, it’s a camp. We don’t have a bathroom and we don’t have a TV. You know what else we don’t have?”

  “What?” we all asked.

  “Parents!” he replied. “So look on the bright side.”

  Hmmmm. I’ve never been away from my parents for a week. Maybe sleepaway camp wouldn’t be so bad.

  “It’s time for swimming!” announced Uncle Ray.

  YAY! I love swimming. I can swim better than anybody. One time, I swam across the Pacific Ocean.

  Okay, I made that up.

  It looked like it was going to start raining, but we all put on our bathing suits and flip-flops. Then we walked a million hundred miles through the woods. Uncle Ray let us stop off at the bathroom. I had even more mosquito bites than I thought. Those mosquitoes must love me.

  “Where’s the pool?” I asked as we marched through the woods.

  “Pool?” Uncle Ray replied with a snort. “Do you think this is a country club? We swim in the lake.”

  Lake?

  I never swam in a lake before. Lakes are for fishing. Lakes have mud and rocks and all kinds of gross stuff in them.

  Finally, we reached the lake. There was a long wooden dock going out into the water and a smaller dock floating in the middle. A lifeguard with big muscles came over to us. I knew he was the lifeguard because he had a whistle around his neck. Also, he was wearing a tank top that said LIFEGUARD on it.

  “Welcome to Lake Ahdoanwanna, Owls,” he said. “I’m Uncle Craig. How many of you dudes already know how to swim?”

  Everybody raised a hand. Uncle Craig said we’d have to pass a deep-water test to prove we were good swimmers. We would have to swim out to the floating dock, tread water for sixty seconds, and then swim back.

  “It will be a piece of cake,” said Uncle Craig.

  Huh? What did cake have to do with anything? Maybe he was going to give us cake if we passed the swimming test.

  It was starting to drizzle, but Uncle Craig didn’t seem to care. He had us line up on the dock. There were lots of mosquitoes flitting around. Of course. At least when I’m underwater, I figured, the mosquitoes can’t bite me.

  “We have to swim in the rain?” Michael asked.

  “What’s the matter, dude?” asked Uncle Craig. “Are you afraid you’ll get wet? Ha-ha-ha!”

  He laughed like that was the funniest joke in the history of jokes.

  “All right!” he continued. “Let’s go. Ready, Owls?”

  “HOOT, HOOT, HOOT! WE DON’T GIVE A HOOT!” we all yelled.

  Uncle Craig blew his whistle. Ryan jumped in the water, swam out to the dock, treaded water for sixty seconds, and swam back.

  “Good job, dude!” hollered Uncle Craig. He blew his whistle.

  Michael jumped in, swam out to the dock, treaded water for sixty seconds, and swam back.

  “Nice form, dude!” hollered Uncle Craig, who definitely says the word “dude” too much. He blew his whistle again.

  Neil jumped in, swam out to the dock, treaded water for sixty seconds, and swam back.

  “Beautiful, dude!” hollered Uncle Craig. He blew his whistle again.

  It was my turn. I jumped in and started swimming. I swam out to the dock and started treading water. I counted ten seconds in my head. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

  Man, lake water is dirty! It’s probably filled with plankton and bacteria and algae and other slimy stuff.

  Forty seconds.

  I felt something touch my foot while I was treading water. Was that a fish?

  Fifty seconds.

  A fish was nibbling at my toes! Or maybe it was a whole school of fish! Gross! I don’t mind eating fish, but I don’t want them eating me.

  Sixty seconds. Time to start swimming back to the dock.

  While I was trying to get my feet away from the fish, my mouth slipped under for a moment and I swallowed a little water.

  Ugh. Dirty, disgusting lake water! That’s when I realized something.

  Fish pee in lakes!

  I swallowed fish pee!

  I was freaking out.

  Glub, glub.

  I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how much time had passed. All I knew was that I was lying on my back on the dock and somebody was blowing air into my mouth. I opened my eyes.

  And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years who was giving me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  I’m not going to tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.

  It was Andrea Young, this girl in my class at school with curly brown hair!*

  Noooooooooooo!

  “Ooooh,” said Ryan. “A.J. and Andrea are kissing! They must be in love!”

  “When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

  I jumped up. Andrea was wearing pink sunglasses and a bathing suit with butterflies on it. A few other girls were behind her.

  “Ugh, gross! Disgusting!” I said as I wiped my mouth.