As the kids dug into their breakfast, very few people noticed the door to the mess hall open and an elderly couple slowly walk in and make their way to the front of the room where Miss Hiss was still talking.
Even Miss Hiss didn’t seem to notice the strangers at first. “And I don’t want you talking to anyone without my permission, but a few lucky campers will get to be interviewed about our wonderful camp. As long as I can trust you,” she added, with a glare that felt more comfortable to most of them than the smile she’d been wearing through much of her speech.
The older lady who had just walked in the door cleared her throat. “Hello, Philomena.”
Miss Hiss snapped to attention. “Joyce!” she said, rushing toward the couple to clasp their hands. “Harold! What a nice surprise! Everyone, this is Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont, the owners and founders of our own beloved Camp Shady Brook!”
She turned back to the couple. “Are you here for the awards ceremony? It’s not until tomorrow, I’m afraid. We’re just getting ready.”
“What ceremony?” the man asked.
“The Camp Director Award—I assume you got a letter as well,” Miss Hiss said.
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Beaumont said. “We got a letter all right.”
Miss Hiss gave a broad, fake smile, more like a crocodile than a person. “So you know all about it.” She glanced around at the children. “See how excited everyone is? We’ve been having a wonderful summer. So glad you are here to enjoy it.”
“Have you?” Mrs. Beaumont asked. She also smiled at the children, but when her face turned to Miss Hiss, it was a mask of anger.
Miss Hiss fell silent.
Then Mr. Beaumont walked forward. He was very old and slow, but he had a certain stiffness to his back that made everyone in the room sit up a little straighter.
“We’re not here about an award, Philomena,” he said. “We’re here about . . . this.”
He pulled some papers out of his jacket pocket and unfolded them carefully.
Archie was pretty sure he knew what they were. From across the room, Mitchell caught his eye, and smiled.
“Bees in the boathouse? Children unable to swim in the lake? Half the camp unusable? And nothing but scraps and leftovers for dinner?” Mr. Beaumont thrust the papers at Miss Hiss. “This is not what Camp Shady Brook is about. This is not what we hired you for.”
Miss Hiss began looking through the photos on the pages, first slowly, then frantically. “Where did these come from? There are no cameras allowed at Camp Shady Brook.”
“We can see why now,” Mrs. Beaumont said dryly. “I think it’s time we had a little . . . chat . . . about how you’ve been running things while we’ve been gone.”
“A private chat,” Mr. Beaumont added. He touched Miss Hiss’s arm and she recoiled. “In particular, I’d like to go more closely over the camp accounts, Philomena. We’ve trusted you for far too long. All those times you’ve said we couldn’t afford to keep our scholarship students because of all the improvements you had to make—well, we understandably have a lot of questions. Many, many questions.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—this is slander and lies—the children are having a wonderful breakfast, the camp looks great—” She gave a strong glare around the room at all the campers. “If anyone here has anything to say about how the summer is going, I’m sure they’d be happy to speak up.
“In fact,” she continued, her voice getting stronger, “I think if you ask any camper in this room they will tell you this camp is the best place they’ve ever been. Look around! It’s beautiful. Those photos are doctored, they’re a fraud. Someone here is playing a trick—a cruel trick. Everyone here knows that.” She glared again at the campers.
The kids shifted in their seats. Many of them looked at the ground. Nobody wanted to stand up to Miss Hiss, even now, with the Beaumonts there. They were too afraid of what she might do.
Except Mitchell. Mitchell the Unconnable O’Connor.
Archie held his breath and watched as Mitchell stood up from his table, even as the rest of the kids looked like they wanted to sink into the floor.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I have to speak up,” Mitchell said.
“You do not have permission to speak,” Miss Hiss said sharply.
“You just said we could speak. And I’m not trying to speak to you,” Mitchell said in a very brave voice. “I want to speak to . . . them.”
He walked to the front of the room, and took a deep breath. “She’s lying,” he said to the Beaumonts, but loud enough that every single kid in the room heard.
“What?” Miss Hiss said. “What are you talking about? This is impossible. Sit down right now!”
But Mitchell only stood up straighter. Out of the corner of his eye, Archie saw Vivian cover her mouth in surprise. But Archie was less surprised. Somehow, he always knew Mitchell had it in him.
“This place has been a mess all summer and it’s only gotten worse,” Mitchell told the Beaumonts. “Everything in those pictures is true. She only fixed it up because she thought she was winning an award and the newspaper was coming.”
“He’s lying, he’s a liar, he’s a terrible liar, that boy,” Miss Hiss sputtered. “We all know it, he’s always making up stories right and left. The absolute worst. He really should have been sent home weeks ago. I’ll be contacting his parents directly, I assure you!”
“I’m not a liar,” Mitchell said quietly.
“He’s not,” Archie said, getting up himself from the Walleyes table and walking over to stand behind Mitchell. “He’s probably the most honest kid at this camp. I should know.”
Miss Hiss whirled around. “You! And who’s going to listen to you? You’ve been causing trouble since the first day! Taking money, and candy—going out of bounds. I’m sure the Beaumonts would be very interested in hearing what you’ve been up to.” Her voice changed as she turned back to the Beaumonts. “I’m just too forgiving, that’s the problem. The kids get in trouble and I can’t bear to send them home. But that is going to change right now.” She gave a long, slow look over the rest of the campers, as though daring them to contradict her.
Vivian and Sasha were sitting together at the Rainbow Smelts’ table. After a quick series of glances back and forth, they both stood at the same time.
“He’s telling the truth,” Vivian said.
Sasha nodded her head emphatically. “Mitchell never lies! It’s, like, his thing!”
“Sit down!” Miss Hiss snapped. “I order you all to sit down right now or you’ll be sent to your cabins without breakfast!”
“Let them speak, Philomena,” Mrs. Beaumont said.
It wasn’t a request, it was an order.
Oliver stepped around from behind the food serving line and came to stand with Archie. He didn’t say anything, but he stared at Miss Hiss with a forceful look.
Slowly, one by one at first, but then in larger groups, all of the other campers began to stand too. Within moments, the entire group was standing behind Mitchell, staring at the camp director wordlessly.
Mrs. Beaumont gave them all a big smile, then turned to Miss Hiss, her face changing to a grim frown.
“As I said, I think we should talk. Privately,” she said to Miss Hiss.
“I’m sorry, children, for everything,” Mr. Beaumont said to the room. “But we’re going to fix it. For now, enjoy your breakfast.”
“NO,” Miss Hiss boomed. “I’ve run this camp for years. I just won an award. You can’t march me out of here like a camper who has misbehaved.”
“Last time I checked, we’re the ones who own this place,” Mr. Beaumont said calmly. “And we can do whatever we want.”
He placed his hand gently on Miss Hiss’s arm, and guided her out of the mess hall, Mrs. Beaumont at his side.
Before the door even closed behind them, the entire camp erupted in cheers.