Major Sherwood might’ve called it “confined to quarters,” but I know a suspension when I see one. That whole next afternoon, we had to stay put in our cabin and “think about what we’d done.”
The big surprise was that Norman hung with us all day, even though he wasn’t in trouble.
“Thanks for sticking around, NORMAN,” I said, about six times before anyone got the hint. “That’s really cool of you, NORMAN.”
“Thanks, Norm,” Bombardier told him.
“It’s Norman,” Norman said, without even looking up. I’d have to talk to him later about meeting the guys halfway. Still, it seemed like progress.
Then he jumped down, went over to unlock his trunk, and started going through the wall-to-wall books inside. I swear, he didn’t even have room for extra underwear in there. It was just a library in a box.
“Here,” he said, and tried to hand me this three-inch-thick book.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m not that bored.”
“You like art, right?” he said. “You’ll like this. And the story’s good too.”
The name of the book was The Invention of Hugo Cabret. There were still too many words but also a ton of awesome art. By the time I put it down again, I’d gotten all the way to page 131, which I think would have made Ms. Donatello back home—not to mention my mom—think the world had just turned upside down.
In fact, the only reason I stopped reading at all was because I’d promised Mom and Grandma I’d write them a real letter at least once a week. So far, I’d been at camp for almost two weeks. That meant I still had… almost two letters to write. (Oops.)
But Norman said I could hang on to the book for later. I think he was actually trying to thank me for the whole “Norman” thing.
Of course, only he would try to do that with a book. But whatever.