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Authors: Gordon Korman

The Second Adventure (7 page)

BOOK: The Second Adventure
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They reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see the two drivers charging up the central aisle of the theater toward them. Logan hauled Luthor outside and Melissa slammed the door shut behind them, jamming a fallen tree limb where the bar had once been.

There was a crash from inside, followed by loud pounding. The branch shook but held firm.

“Let's get out of here!” urged Melissa.

“Yeah, but to where?” Logan demanded, breaking into a jog, leading the sluggish dog. “What hiding place could ever be good enough? Once the Showdown starts, we'll be tied up, and those two guys will be free to search the camp one blade of grass at a time!”

“Keep moving!” Melissa panted. He had a point, but there was no time to think the matter through. Pretty soon, the bus drivers would give up on the back door and exit through the front. When that happened, Luthor had to be
gone
.

Desperately, she looked around. They could try to stash Luthor in the maintenance shed or equipment shack, or stuff him under a bunk in one of the cabins. What was the least likely place the dognappers would check? Would Luthor stay put there? What if one of the counselors walked in on him? It left a lot up to chance.

No, they needed more control. They had to be able to keep an eye on the Doberman every minute. But how?

The barbecue was winding down. Soon it would be time to break into teams for the Showdown, but right now the campers stood in clusters, chatting, joking — anything to suppress preperformance jitters. One of the larger groups included Mary Catherine, Athena, Bobby, and several other key players in the Ta-da! revue. Melissa took the leash from Logan and headed toward them, Luthor stumbling drowsily behind.

“You can't let anybody
see
him!” Logan hissed after her. When he realized her destination, his whisper became even more urgent. “You can't let the
Klingon
see him! She's the enemy!”

She led Luthor right into their midst and gestured urgently for them to form a circle around him. “We have to hide this poor dog!” she begged.

Mary Catherine's eyes bulged. “Are you crazy? There are no dogs allowed at camp! Where did you get it?”

“He's from one of the farms around here,” Melissa explained, inventing rapidly. “And the farmer is
cruel
to him!” Okay, it was a lie. But if the dognappers got hold of Luthor, they'd bring him to Swindle, who'd be every bit as cruel as her imaginary farmer. So there was truth at the core of the fiction.

“Dog abusers, dognappers,” Mary Catherine scoffed. “What is it with you two and dogs?”

“We thought Mickey Bonaventure was working for the farmer,” Logan put in. “That's why I called him a dognapper. I thought he was after this poor little guy — okay, big guy.”

The circle tightened protectively around Luthor. Over her shoulder, Melissa spied the two bus drivers bursting out the front entrance of the performance center. This group of campers was all that stood between the Doberman and capture. Somehow, they had to make it work.

“If we get caught hiding a dog,” Mary Catherine argued, “we could be kicked out of camp. Not to mention that it's not our dog, and we have no right to keep it from its rightful owner.”

“Have a heart, Mary Catherine,” put in Athena. “Look how sad he is. He can barely hold up his head.”

“You can tell he's got a mean owner,” added Bobby.

“That's not our problem,” Mary Catherine insisted. “The Showdown is the most important day of our summer.” She sneezed. “And anyway, I'm allergic. We'll turn the dog over to Mr. Worling. He'll know what to do.”

Logan spoke up. “We can't do that. We just can't.” His voice brimmed with emotion. “You know how adults are. He'll say the dog is property and has to go back to the farmer. I can't live with myself if that happens. A dog is loyal and innocent and trusting. He can't stand up to an abusive owner. He can't defend himself. That's up to people.” A short sob escaped him. “That's up to
us
.”

Melissa regarded her friend with a new respect. She had seen Logan's acting performances before, but this was different. This was from the heart.

Logan dropped to his knees and hugged Luthor, who was tranquilized just enough to put up with it. “Don't worry, sweetie. We won't let you down.”

Melissa adjusted her thinking. Logan was playing a part after all. He was portraying Savannah Drysdale.

“Of course we won't!” Athena declared.

All at once, the other campers in the circle blurted out their support.

“We're with you all the way!”

“We've got your back, dog!”

“That bad farmer's never going to hurt you again!”

Luthor emitted a confused gurgle of appreciation.

“Fine,” said Mary Catherine. “What do we have to do?”

Melissa glanced across the compound. The bus drivers had split up, and were investigating the cabins one by one. “If we can keep him safe until after the Showdown, maybe we can get Mr. Worling to call the ASPCA or something.” It was another lie, but once the performances were over and the contest had been decided, Swindle's men would no longer have any excuse to hang around searching. They'd have to take the visitors home to Camp Spotlight. Then Melissa and Logan could get in touch with Griffin about what to do with Luthor.


After
the Showdown?” Mary Catherine echoed in consternation. “Don't you think we'll be a little busy between now and then? Like,
performing
?”

“We can hide him in one of the cabins,” Bobby suggested.

Logan shook his head. “No good. The farmer is already nosing around. The dog has to stay where we can keep an eye on him.”

“Why not right up onstage with us?” Mary Catherine's voice oozed sarcasm. “I'm sure nobody will notice a giant Doberman in the middle of everything. Don't all theatrical productions have some random dog just standing there for no reason at all?”

And then Melissa was staring right at it. “Pride Rock!” she exclaimed.

In the back corner of the Showdown stage sat a miniature mountain built atop a large rolling cart. In
The Lion King
sequence, that was where Rafiki the baboon held up the newborn baby Simba for all the animals to admire. Since it was so big, Pride Rock remained on the platform off in the wings throughout both revues. Right before “Hakuna Matata,” the Ta-da! stagehands would wheel it out into the lights.

The curtain of hair was parted now, and Melissa's eyes were alight with excitement and purpose. “We'll hide him under Pride Rock. No one would ever think to lift up a giant set.”

“It's perfect,” Logan agreed. “The audience won't even know he's there.”

A trickle of drool worked its way out of the corner of Luthor's mouth.

Moving like a giant amoeba with Luthor as its nucleus, the group shuffled across the compound, heading for the stage.

“Stay close together,” Logan advised. “Keep him hidden.”

Mary Catherine rolled her eyes. “Look who's turned into the big director all of a sudden. Mr. I'm-Too-Good-To-Play-a-Warthog.”

At one point, they passed so close to the driver with the spiky hair that the man said, “Get out of my way, kids. I'm busy.” But he never spotted the Doberman in their midst. It was a good thing Luthor had taken that partial hit from the tranquilizer dart. Had he been awake and alert, there would have been no way to contain his raucous, energetic movements and loud bark.

Oozing along a few inches at a time, the trip to the stage seemed to take forever. At last, the cluster curled around behind the platform to the backstage area and climbed up the steps.

It took several campers to tilt up one side of Pride Rock. Melissa took hold of Luthor's collar and urged him toward the hiding place.

For the first time since taking the dart, Luthor showed some resistance. This dark, cave-like space didn't seem like somewhere he wanted to be.

She removed one of the burgers from her pocket and placed it on the wooden stage under Pride Rock. Luthor followed it in, opened his huge jaws for a bite, and promptly fell asleep, the food still in his mouth.

“Is he going to behave in there?” asked Mary Catherine dubiously.

“Oh, sure,” said Melissa. “He's a big softie.”

This time it was the truth. Luthor
was
a softie — under the influence of a tranquilizer dart.

T
wenty-five miles to the west, the same sun that shone on the Showdown reflected off the glassy surface of Ebony Lake. Long, narrow canoes dotted the water as far as the eye could see.

Savannah Drysdale was rowing in unison with her boatmates when her phone vibrated against the fabric of her bathing suit. She reached under her lifejacket, took out the handset, and squinted to read the small screen.

From: Melissa

Emergency! Luthor's location compromised, two dognappers at Ta-da! Luthor grazed by tranq. dart. Awaiting instructions.

In shock, Savannah squeezed the unit so hard that it squirted out of her grip, and she very nearly fumbled it overboard.

“Savannah!” her counselor admonished from the front of the craft. “You're not supposed to have that here! Put it away before you ruin it!”

“S-s-sorry!” She stuffed the handset back under the life jacket, but she didn't care about any phone! All that mattered was Luthor!

Her sweet, loyal best friend in the world was in danger. And where was she? Twenty-five miles away, floating around like a useless idiot!

Where was Griffin? He had to be told about this immediately!

She looked frantically around the lake. He was in one of the many other canoes, but which one?

She needed The Man With The Plan.

* * *

The visiting camp was nothing short of phenomenal.

Spotlight's revue barreled along at rocket-ship velocity, shifting from large-scale musical set pieces to powerful dramatic scenes to hilarious comedy sketches. It was so entertaining that even the Ta-da! campers and counselors couldn't help but enjoy it.

Logan took every smattering of applause, every chuckle, every ooh or aah like a blow to the head with a baseball bat. “We're toast,” he predicted mournfully. “Even if we
hadn't
broken into Mickey Bonaventure's house and accused him of dognapping, we wouldn't have a prayer.” He gestured down the grassy slope, where the judge reclined in a lawn chair, smiling, clapping, and watching in rapt attention.

Melissa's focus was on the stage — not on the actors, but on Pride Rock, off to the side. “So far so good. Nobody's noticed Luthor.”

“Like things could be worse!” Logan moaned. “By the end of the day, Mickey Bonaventure's going to make sure that everybody on Spotlight has an agent! And us? ‘
Well, there was some guy in a warthog suit who showed some promise, but I never really saw his face
.'”

“This isn't about you,” Melissa reminded him. She checked her phone. “I've already got twenty-three missed calls from Savannah!”

Logan nodded sheepishly. “We scored with the hiding place. Even if those two guys knew exactly where he was, they'd have to pull him out from under a rock in front of three hundred people.”

The grand finale of the Spotlight revue was a medley from
Glee
that involved the entire cast. It drew grudging cheers from a Ta-da! crowd that would truly have loved the performance to bomb. A few were even on their feet, dancing to the music. At the end, Mickey Bonaventure himself stood up and snapped a salute to the triumphant cast.

“Okay, everybody!” Mary Catherine was smiling, but it was obvious that the quality of the Spotlight performance had displeased her mightily. “It's our turn now.”

There was a twenty-minute break for the Spotlight campers to get out of costume and makeup, and to set up the stage for the Ta-da! home team. Soon the visitors were settled in the audience position on the grassy slope, and Wendy was giving her campers a last-minute pep talk.

“All right, they were great. We're great, too! Don't worry about topping Spotlight. Let's just do our thing, and we'll be amazing!”

There was a muffled snore, which everybody but Wendy knew was coming from beneath Pride Rock.

Melissa breathed deeply and took her place at the computer she had programmed to run the special effects. In her pocket, she felt her phone vibrate. Another call from Savannah, number thirty-something. She felt bad about leaving her friend hanging, but nothing could be done about it. There was no way she could take a call here, just as there had been no way she could take it in the audience during Spotlight's revue. And anyway, what could she possibly say to put Savannah's mind at rest?

“All right, places, everybody!” barked Mary Catherine.

Melissa punched the keyboard, and the opening music of
You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown
blasted out of the speaker. The actors marched out onstage, with the exception of Logan, who was playing Snoopy, and had to crawl on all fours.

BOOK: The Second Adventure
7.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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