Friday, June 25

Make a Truce

King Arthur, Pogo, and I sat in the back of the mega-golf cart. Victoria rode up front with Director Mudwimple, talking about who knows what. Doc and Ms. Jacqueline held hands and leaned against each other in the middle seats. We dropped the two lovebirds off at the nurse’s station, and Director Mudwimple let Victoria get out at our cabin. Then the rest of us headed for the barn.

Once there, Director Mudwimple and I added extra wood shavings for King Arthur to sleep on, while Pogo secured any doors, gates, mouse holes, or cracks that he might possibly get through. I was confident he wouldn’t be going anywhere though.

“Can I stay with him tonight?” I asked Director Mudwimple.

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, my dear. You need your sleep too. I know you’re concerned about him, but he’s fine.” She pulled me in for another bear hug. “Thank you for saving his life, but don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I promise I won’t,” I said. “But only if he keeps his part of the bargain and doesn’t go into any ravines during storms.”

“Naaaa,” bleated King Arthur.

“Are you agreeing with me?” I asked him.

I could’ve sworn I saw him wink.

• • •

Victoria was sitting on the porch steps when Director Mudwimple dropped Pogo and me off at the cabin.

I was surprised she wasn’t inside, showering and using up all the hot water. My jaw tightened.

“I’m going inside,” Pogo said, climbing the stairs. She pulled her shirt away from her body and took a whiff. “Whew! I need a shower.”

“Catch ya later,” I said.

I stood, waiting for Victoria to say something.

She held my stare but squirmed. I didn’t care if she felt uncomfortable. Even though she helped rescue King Arthur, I was still pretty miffed she hadn’t coughed up the truth back at the ravine.

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean for King Arthur to get hurt. I just wanted you to be embarrassed—like I was this morning.” She swiped a lock of wet hair behind her ear. “It’d be pretty bad if all you had to show your parents tomorrow was an empty stall.” She sighed. “So I took him. Tomorrow I would have ‘found’ your missing goat and been the hero, for once. Then the storm got bad, so I figured I’d better put him back—but he’d eaten through the rope, obviously.”

“Yeah, he does stuff like that.” But that’s not news to you.

Victoria stood. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“He could have died,” I said.

“I know.”

“But he didn’t.”

She gave me a nod. Truce.

Friday, June 25

9:26 p.m.

Holy cow—what a night!!

The whole camp could’ve seen me drenched with river water, covered in dirt and leaves, and clinging to a half-drowned goat tonight, and I WOULDN’T CARE!!!!!!

Because all that really matters is that King Arthur didn’t die.

Even when Nathn saw King Arthur and me (with a busted lip) in the back of the golf cart soaking wet and dirty, it didn’t bother me. Nathn looked concerned at first (because of my lip?), but then he laughed when he saw King Arthur—but it was more like a “Cool! The goat is riding in a golf cart” laugh.

If anyone had told me I’d be rescuing a goat alongside my sworn enemy, I’d tell them that octopuses have toes! I guess she’s my ex-sworn enemy. I’m NOT SAYING we’re friends—we’ve just more or less called a truce.

I feel a little sorry for Victoria. I know she’s angry for always being compared to JT. She never gets to be a hero. She caused all the trouble tonight, but if she hadn’t pulled herself together and helped me, King Arthur would have died. I guess that kind of makes her a hero.

Poor King Arthur—if Victoria comes back next year, I bet he’ll faint from fear the minute he sees her!

Pogo is sooooo happy that her crazy, amazing tracking device worked! Her dad’s gonna be amazed too, I bet!

I can’t wait to show Mom and Dad the barn—and not just King Arthur but all the animals. I’ll need to give His Highness another bath and brush him out before they see him, but’s that’s okay.

Good night—I’m exhausted!

PS Doc and Ms. Jacqueline are totally gaga for each other. It’s pretty obvious.

PPS I’m pretty sure King Arthur has eaten more flotation devices than what’s considered healthy—even for a goat.

PPPS My lip hurts—I hope it doesn’t look too ugly in the morning!