Taking Out the Trash

After that, Pittman towed Fish’s kayak behind hers, and Fish took the raft with us.

I’m not going to lie. Fish was amazing on the river. He got us paddling all together, and we shot those rapids like fish in a barrel. It was capital AWE, capital SOME. I didn’t fear for my life once.

But when we got to the take-out (where you TAKE your rafts OUT of the water, another example of clever raft naming), it was back to the same old Fish.

“All right, cockroaches, let’s get you good-for-nothings doing some good for something. Everyone take a garbage bag,” he said. Then he started handing bags out from this shed where we turned in our paddles and life jackets.

At the take-out, there was a parking lot, a picnic area, and some bathrooms, all with overflowing garbage cans. It looked like everyone who came there had the world’s worst aim with their trash. Now it was up to us to “leave the place better than we found it,” like Captain Crowder had said what seemed like ages ago.

“I want to see full bags, people,” Pittman said. “A full bag earns a new tag! No slacking!”

I got busy right away. The end of day three was coming up fast, and I still only had nine tags, even after earning an extra by helping out with the cooking. I was right about our trip on the river being worth a little extra tag-wise, but I still had to hustle if I wanted to fill two garbage bags before sundown.

That’s right, two bags. You haven’t forgotten about Carmen, have you?

As usual, she spent most of her time not getting anything done while I did all the work. And to tell you the embarrassing truth, I didn’t even think about it anymore.

But then I started to notice how quiet Carmen was. That was weird—for Carmen. She wasn’t even standing near anyone, and the only time she said anything was when some guy at the picnic area laughed at her tattoo. Then she said plenty, but I’m not allowed to put those kinds of words into this book.

Still, I could tell something was wrong. In fact, she hadn’t bossed me around for hours, ever since our raft tipped over. I was starting to think maybe the mighty Arkansas had scared her more than she was letting on.

“You okay?” I asked her, once I’d made sure that everyone else was out of earshot.

“I will be soon,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’m out of here,” she said. “I’m quitting this stupid program.”

“What?” I said. That wasn’t what I expected. At all.

“You heard me,” she said. “Pittman and Fish can shove it.”

“But you can’t quit now,” I said.

TIME OUT FOR A SECOND!