Dunc and Amos and the Red Tattoos Read online

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  THE VOYAGE OF THE FROG, Gary Paulsen

  THE BOY WHO OWNED THE SCHOOL, Gary Paulsen

  HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell

  HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell

  HOW TO GET FABULOUSLY RICH, Thomas Rockwell

  CHOCOLATE FEVER, Robert Kimmel Smith

  BOBBY BASEBALL, Robert Kimmel Smith

  IT’S A WEIRD, WEIRD SCHOOL, Stephen Mooser

  THE HITCHHIKING VAMPIRE, Stephen Mooser

  YEARLING BOOKS/YOUNG YEARLINGS/YEARLING CLASSICS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.

  For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,

  write to Dell Readers Service,

  P.O. Box 1045, South Holland, IL 60473.

  Published by

  Dell Publishing

  a division of

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  1540 Broadway

  New York, New York 10036

  Copyright © 1993 by Gary Paulsen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

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  eISBN: 978-0-307-80415-0

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  •1

  Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper sat on the edge of his bed checking off items on the list he was holding. His best friend Amos Binder called them out to him.

  “Swim trunks.”

  “Check.”

  “Mosquito repellent.”

  “Check.”

  “Sleeping bag.”

  “Check.”

  “Fake throw-up.”

  “Ch—hey, that’s not on the list.”

  Amos grinned. “You never know. Just when you leave something at home, that’s the very thing you’ll need.”

  “This camp we’re going to has some pretty strict rules about behavior. Willie Myers told me that Attila the Hun doesn’t have anything on these counselors.”

  Amos took off his cap and put it on backward. “How come we got so lucky? Whose brilliant idea was it to send us off to Camp Gitchee Goomee, anyway? What a name. Have we done something to deserve this kind of punishment?”

  Dunc looked at him.

  “I mean lately,” Amos said.

  “My mother says that everyone should have the experience of going to summer camp. She thinks it will be good for me to get back to nature, breathe some fresh air, and be around normal people my age.”

  “What am I—abnormal?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything against you, Amos. Besides, you’re coming with me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. This camp business sounds worse than the army. I could stay here and hold down the fort until you get back. Lie around the pool, soak up some rays, play some video games.”

  “Amos Binder, I can’t believe it. We always do everything together. I can’t believe you would even think of such a thing!”

  “I was going to write to you.”

  Dunc decided it was time to try a different approach.

  “Okay, Amos. If that’s the way you want it. I can handle that. No problem here. She might be a little disappointed, though.”

  “She?”

  “Melissa Hansen. I found out that she just happens to be going to the same camp we are.”

  Dunc knew it wasn’t fair to bring up Melissa. Amos loved Melissa with his whole heart. While she thought of him as a welcome mat—if at all.

  Amos put his cap on the right way. “Do you know for sure, guaranteed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, cross your heart and hope to eat raw liver, that Melissa is going to this same camp?”

  “Where do you think my mother got the name of the camp?” Dunc nodded. “Melissa’s mother told her.”

  Amos jumped from the floor up to the bed. “Ye-es! All alone with Melissa Hansen in a beautiful mountain setting. Birds singing, flowers blooming …”

  “I hate to mention this, Amos, but you won’t be all alone with her. There will be at least two hundred other campers, besides the counselors. They put the boys on one side and the girls on the other.”

  “Details,” Amos said, ignoring Dunc. “What an opportunity! It’ll really be the perfect place to show off my skills as an outdoorsman.”

  “I didn’t know you had any.”

  “I’ve got three days. I’ll get some.”

  Dunc smiled. “Well, if you’re determined to go on this trip, who am I to stand in your way?”

  •2

  Camp Gitchee Goomee was nestled in a small mountain range near Silver Lake. All of the buildings were made log-cabin style. There were twenty bunk houses, ten on each side of the camp. The dining hall, recreation room, office, and infirmary were located in the middle.

  “Isn’t this something? I told you it would be great up here, Amos. Just breathe in some of that fresh air.”

  “I’d like to, but breathing is not one of the things I do best right now.”

  Amos looked like a giant raccoon. He had a small piece of white tape across his nose, and his eyes were two perfectly round black circles.

  “Tell me again how you managed to break your nose.”

  “It happened last night. I was bringing my camping gear downstairs when the phone rang. I figured it was Melissa calling to talk about camp stuff. It sounded like her—you know, that kind of high-pitched ring.”

  Dunc nodded. Amos was always certain that Melissa was calling him. She didn’t give him any reason to think it might be her. She had never called him. In fact, she had never even acknowledged his existence on this planet. Or any other planet.

  “Anyway, as you know, I like to get it by that all-important second ring. So she doesn’t have to wait. I slid the rest of the way downstairs on the banister. I cut off a lot of time right there. You should have seen me. I was really cooking.”

  “Is that when it happened?”

  “No, not yet. I was looking good. I ran wide open down that short hall to the kitchen, rounded the turn, and then my mother opened the pantry closet door. I hit it face-first, full blast.”

  “How much damage did you do?”

  “It knocked me out cold for two hours and left an imprint of my face in the door. Forever. It’s worked out okay, though. My mom’s going to have it framed and use it as a portrait. Save some money.”

  “That’s really tough. I mean about your nose. Maybe camping will take your mind off it.”

  Several busloads of campers had been steadily arrivi
ng. Each camper was assigned a cabin, a camp team, and a counselor.

  Dunc read their names off a list on the bulletin board. “We are the Blue Jays, in cabin seven. I’m bunk eighty-eight, and you’re eighty-nine.”

  “At least they put us together,” Amos said. “I don’t know if I could handle all this fresh air with strangers.”

  They lugged their suitcases and sleeping bags across the exercise yard to cabin seven. Inside the cabin were two rows of metal army cots, a door marked OFFICE, and another marked LATRINE.

  “It’s not home, but it’ll do.” Amos yawned. “I’m beat.” He stretched out on his cot.

  A piercing whistle filled the cabin.

  Amos flipped out of the cot and landed facedown on the cold cement.

  “Camper eighty-nine. No lying on the cots except during a designated sleeping time. That will be one demerit.”

  Amos shook himself, tried to straighten his nose, and looked up. A mountain, posing as a man, was walking toward him, holding a silver whistle and carrying a clipboard.

  “Camper eight-nine, you obviously have not read the Gitchee Goomee Campers Handbook. It lists all the camp regulations and the punishment for each infraction. See to it that you read it immediately.”

  Amos dragged himself up off the floor.

  The mountain folded his arms and glared. “I am Counselor Adolf. I am assigned to this cabin. You are answerable to me for each infraction of camp rules.” He turned and marched back to his office.

  “Is that guy for real?” Amos whispered. “Did you see the size of his arm? He makes the Terminator look like a sissy.”

  Dunc watched Adolf until he was out of sight, then shook his head. “He probably eats cats. Kittens.” Dunc looked at his watch. “I think we’d better get over to the dining hall before we miss dinner.”

  “Duncan.”

  Dunc knew Amos was serious when he used his full name instead of his nickname.

  “Did you know about this? Did you know we’d get demerits for breathing and have a storm trooper for a counselor?”

  “You always get way too excited over things, Amos. He’s probably a real nice guy—once you get to know him.”

  “I don’t want to get to know him. I’d rather get to know a grizzly bear. Are you holding anything else back from me?”

  “Nothing comes to mind, Amos.” Dunc looked out the window. “I did tell you it was strict here, remember?”

  “Strict is one thing. Prison camp is another.”

  “Things will look up after you eat,” Dunc said. “By the way, did I tell you that we eat at the same time the girls do?”

  He knew it would work.

  Amos smoothed down his hair and headed for the door. “Well, come on. What are you waiting for?”

  •3

  Amos was excited. “I think I see her. At least, I think it’s her. See the one with her back to us in the third row from the left?”

  Dunc started to answer when a man at the head table stood up and blew his whistle.

  “These guys have a thing about whistles, don’t they?” Amos said.

  The man was short and about as wide as he was tall. He had white hair, chubby cheeks, and could have passed for Santa Claus. Except for the shorts.

  “Attention, campers!” He tapped his knife on the table until everyone quieted down. “Attention! I am your camp director, Mr. Wiggleston. I would like to take this time to personally welcome each and every one of you to Camp Gitchee Goomee. Before you are dismissed this evening, I have a few short announcements.”

  Mr. Wiggleston took a deep breath, and the middle button popped off his shirt.

  “First, we must all take note of the posted schedules. This is how we know we are in the right place at the right time. If you have kitchen duty, be sure to show up five minutes early for your assignment. Remember our camp motto—A busy camper is a happy camper.”

  Amos put his head down on the table. “We have KP? You didn’t tell me we had to wash dishes!”

  Dunc put his finger to his lips. “Shh. The man is trying to talk.”

  “Some of you new campers may not have heard about our end-of-camp party.”

  A loud squeal came from the girls’ side.

  Mr. Wiggleston cleared his throat. “It is a camp tradition to use the money made at the concession stand from the previous year’s camp, to host the next camp’s farewell party.”

  Another loud squeal.

  “However, a word of warning. In order to attend the party, you can have no more than ten demerits …”

  “As fast as they hand out demerits around here, they won’t have to worry about having a party,” Amos whispered.

  “… so work hard, play hard, and enjoy your stay here at Camp Gitchee Goomee. Now, except for those of you with kitchen duty, you are dismissed.”

  “I feel sorry for the poor guys who have kitchen duty tonight,” Amos said. “Look at this mess.”

  Dunc looked down at the floor. “I don’t know how to tell you this.…”

  Amos stared at him. “Oh, man! Are you serious? You mean we have KP the first night?”

  “Look at it this way, Amos. After tonight, we’ve got a full week until it’s our turn again.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  The kitchen was full of boys from cabin seven. The leader seemed to be a short, chunky kid who had been to camp before.

  “Hiya. I’m Toby Gillis. Your job assignment is on that wall over there. When you find it, I can tell you the fastest way to get it over with.”

  Amos read the assignment. “Garbage. We’re garbage.”

  Toby laughed. “Everyone has their problems.”

  He showed them how to tie off the sacks and where to take them. “Be sure you put the lids on tight, so the animals can’t get to it.”

  There were ten sacks in all. The garbage cans were located down a little hill inside a fence. The sacks were stuffed as full as possible, and they were heavy. Between them, Dunc and Amos could carry only one at a time.

  “At least we didn’t have to wash dishes,” Dunc said.

  Amos tried to get a better grip on his end of the sack. “No. We got the much classier job of hauling everyone’s gross, smelly leftovers a half-mile to the garbage cans. We can hardly see where we’re going.”

  “It could be worse.”

  Suddenly the end Amos was holding burst under the pressure. Food and trash exploded all over him.

  Green stuff dripped down his face. Pieces of tomato and other, unidentifiable, vegetables clung to his ears, nose, and clothing.

  Amos wiped some of the slime off with his sleeve. “Would this qualify as worse?”

  Dunc just shook his head.

  It took longer to pick up the loose garbage than it did to carry all the rest of the sacks down the hill.

  Amos fell to his knees. “I’m tired. This is the last one. Let’s sit down a minute.”

  “We can’t. It’s getting late.” Dunc tried to pull him up. “Somebody might wonder what’s taking so long. We better get back—wait, someone’s coming. Duck behind the cans.”

  Footsteps walked up to the trash cans. There was the sound of a lid opening and something being dropped in.

  “Too dangerous to try it tonight,” a deep voice whispered. “We’ll have to wait for the right time. Don’t worry. When it does happen, it’ll be the end of Wiggleston this time.”

  The footsteps walked off into the dark.

  “Did you hear that, Amos? Something’s going on here. Those guys want to get rid of Wiggleston. Too bad we didn’t get a look at them. Hmmm.”

  “Stop it,” Amos said.

  “What?”

  “You know, that hmmm sound and that la-la-land stare. Every time you get that look, I wind up doing things I’m sorry for. Like that time I wore your sister’s clothes.”

  “Amos, aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what those guys are up to?”

  “I don’t care. And you shouldn’t, either. The only thing we should be worr
ied about is trying to survive the next two weeks.”

  Dunc lifted one of the trash-can lids. “Look at this. Our suspect left a gum wrapper.”

  “Will you stop it? We don’t have a suspect. Unless gum chewing is illegal.”

  Dunc walked back toward the kitchen, mumbling to himself, and Amos followed, his shoulders drooping. “Something tells me I’m in for it.”

  •4

  Amos was dreaming. A large sack of garbage was chasing him all over the dining hall, blowing a silver whistle.

  “Get up, Amos! We’re going to be late for the flag ceremony.”

  Amos opened one eye and then the other. “What time is it?”

  Dunc looked at his watch. “It’s five-fifteen. Adolf blew the wake-up whistle at five o’clock. Everybody else is already outside. Hurry.”

  “Hurry? At five o’clock in the morning? Are you kidding? It’s still dark outside.” Amos turned over. “Wake me when it’s time for breakfast.”

  “Come on, Amos.” Dunc shook him. “Breakfast is right after the flag ceremony.”

  Amos covered his head with a pillow. “Then call me in time for lunch.”

  Dunc looked out the window. “Oh, no! Adolf is coming this way. It’s going to be demerit city. Get up!”

  Amos crawled out of his sleeping bag. He was completely dressed, including shoes and socks.

  Dunc stared at him. “Weren’t you a little uncomfortable?”

  “I thought it might save time. And I was right.”

  They hustled out the back door before Adolf came in the front and made their way to the mess hall.

  Breakfast was blue powdered eggs, raw hash browns, and watery orange juice.

  “Yum,” Amos said. “No wonder this place has its own doctor. I bet most of his patients are food-poisoning victims.”

  Dunc was pushing the blue eggs around the plate with his fork. “What do you suppose those guys last night have against Wiggleston?”

  “Probably nothing. You know how it is. Sometimes you say things. You don’t exactly expect people to hide behind garbage cans and listen.”

  “This is different. I can feel it. I’ve been checking around. All the counselors here are new, except Adolf and a guy named Chuck. The only other men in camp are Mr. Phillips, who has been the caretaker here for years, Dr. Stevens, and Mr. Wiggleston.”