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That fiery hell known as the surface of the Sun lay almost a hundred million miles from the surface of the Earth. But as Stanley Yelnats dug his shovel in the rock-hard surface of a long-dried lake bed, he wouldn't have known differently if the sun was millions of miles away or right on top of him. For all of the boys at Camp Green Lake, the distance really didn't matter.
For the lack of water in the lake, a surprising amount hung in the air. Another bead of sweat ran down Stanley's arm, collecting in a small crevice between his fingers. Though Stanley kept his fingers separated in a feeble attempt to dry them out, the air was already saturated with enough humidity that despite the intense heat, no sweat could evaporate.
He dug his shovel into the dirt.
The next tent was more than half a mile away from the members of D, but Stanley could still faintly hear them in the distance. In the thick, hazy heat of an empty lake bed, nothing stood in the way to block the sound.
There was plenty of dust to scatter the light, though. Across the flatlands, enough dirt lingered in the ambient air to obscure the landscape all around the camp. Stanley only wished that so many particles would be swept higher into the atmosphere, maybe condense into a cloud and suck away some of the moisture. Perhaps then the sun could be blocked out, if only for a few blessed moments.
Every day, this same pattern of thought ran through Stanley's mind. And every day, he had to remind himself that it wouldn't happen. He had heard before that weather was never constant, always prone to change. Whoever said that had clearly never attended Camp Green Lake.
He dug his shovel into the dirt.
A few yards away, X-Ray continued to dig his hole. For some odd reason, though the wall between the two holes grew precariously thin with every scoop of gray earth, Stanley could only hear the sound of his own shovel scraping against the rocks.
As Stanley worked, his mind began to think about X-Ray's nature; about how so much of it was reflected in the way he conducted himself out in this desert. His shovel was steady, quiet, precise; he didn't focus on speed, but rather calculation. Every move the boy made was carefully planned in order to remove the exact amount of dirt he wanted – no more, no less. But, Stanley realized, X-Ray's entire personality was like that; he thought out every word before he said it, anticipated the response, and knew exactly what he aimed to get out of people. Stanley couldn't help but think that X-Ray would become a great teacher one day. Or a great con artist.
He dug his shovel into the dirt.
That scoop was a mistake. The handle suddenly seemed to gain several pounds of weight; the moist wood almost slipped through his tired fingers. Stanley instantly guessed what had happened. He had neglected to check the thickness of the wall between his and X-Ray's holes and had carelessly thrust the blade into a central load point. Now the metal was the only thing preventing the entire side of the hole from caving in.
Now he faced a dilemma. He should tell X-Ray what was going on; he didn't want him to be surprised when one side of his hole suddenly gave out. But he couldn't let go of the shovel in order to get out of the hole and tell X-Ray, for his support alone held the earthen wall in place.
"X-Ray!" he exclaimed. His throat was dry and sore, but he couldn't reach his canteen.
There was no response. Not that he could hear.
"X-Ray!" He shouted the name as loudly as he could. He was sure it wasn't loud enough.
"I said what, Caveman!" came the reply.
Stanley let out a small sigh. "I've got a bit of a problem here, with the side of our holes."
For the first time all day, he could hear X-Ray's shovel as he set it down and pulled himself out of his hole. Within seconds, a shadow fell across Stanley's back, and he heard X-Ray's voice much more clearly.
"Hmm… Yes, I'd say we have a problem here."
Stanley looked up. X-Ray's entire person seemed to be enshrouded with light. "Anything like this ever happened to you before? I mean, what do I do?"
X-Ray considered it. Just for a moment. "Let it cave in."
Stanley paused. "Let it cave?"
"Sure, why not? I'm sure Mr. Sir will be happy to see that we did a little extra work, don't you think?"
He flashed a smile at Stanley. It was a joking smile, sarcastic and facetious. But in it, Stanley saw nothing but confidence. Something in that smile made him feel as though he had never actually had a problem in the first place, that he was silly to be so worried over something as insignificant as a hole. But X-Ray wasn't looking down on him. No, it was more like the look of a mentor, of someone who was teaching a young child how to handle a trivial problem. It expressed optimism about Stanley's ability to learn, to gain knowledge and move on, to be able to handle whatever Camp Green Lake, and eventually the rest of the world, had to throw at him.
Suddenly, the sun was in his eyes again. X-Ray had jumped back down into his hole and was beginning to pick up his shovel.
With a grin, Stanley turned back to that troublesome wall and, after gathering himself for a moment, pulled the shovel out. The thin layer of earth duly crumbled and fell to the bottom of the hole with a small thudding sound. The resultant pile of dirt was much smaller than Stanley had expected.
On the other side stood X-Ray, his shovel ready to continue his excavation, his smile still glowing from his dirty face. "Well hello there, Caveman."
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