Oh, man!” Smurf said. He was looking out the screen door. “They’ve got baseball bats!”
“And sticks!” Cav said. “Lacrosse and hockey!”
They were pounding the ground as they came, getting closer by the second.
“Just stay calm,” I said. “And stick close.”
I went out the screen door first, with Smurf and all the other guys piling out behind me. Doolin was at the front of his pack too. We came face-to-face just at the bottom of the cabin steps.
“Loser up!” Doolin said, shouldering his bat. “You ever heard of strike four, Katch-a-cold? ’Cause I’m about to—”
“Come here, Doolin,” I said, before he could get any farther. (Believe me, I’ve learned a thing or two about Doolin’s type. You’ve got to be as quick as they are strong.) “We need to talk. Right now.”
“I don’t feel like talking,” Doolin said.
“But I insist,” I said.
I don’t think he was expecting that. He smiled, like I was entertaining him now. And then he followed me over, away from the other guys. Here went nothing. Or everything, I guess.
“I’ve got this sister here at camp,” I told him.
“And I care about this why?” Doolin said.
“See, Georgia made friends with your sister—”
“I’m yawning. See me yawning?” he said.
“And your sister told my sister about a nickname you had back in preschool,” I said.
Doolin didn’t say a word. So I kept going.
“I guess somebody used to wet his pants, Dools. And this same person used to wear a certain paper product to school. And that same person used to be called Pampers. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.”
It was like watching Doolin’s face melt. By the time I got to the Pampers part, he looked about as happy as a Hawaiian snowman.
“What do you want?” he said.
“Less than you think,” I told him. “You know Norman over there, right?” I pointed at the guys, who were standing off to the side. “From now on, that’s his name. Not Booger. Not Eater. Not Booger Eater. It’s Norman.”
I took a step back now. Doolin still had that bat in his hand, and I liked my skull in one piece.
“You’re joking, right?” he said.
“No joke,” I said. “That’s it. After this, I’m gone. You guys can prank each other all you want. Or not. I don’t care.”
Now he just looked confused, like he was still waiting for the punch line.
“But the whole Booger Eater thing is done,” I told him. “That name’s going into retirement. You got that, Pampers?”
“Shh! Shut up!” he said. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine.”
“And I mean for everyone. Not just for you. Because my sister has a very big mouth. She won’t have any problem telling every guy and girl at this camp about your nickname, if she has to.”
I could tell we had a deal. And that was a good thing too, because the stopwatch was down to a minute and a half.
“So, how about you shake my hand while everyone’s watching?” I said. “Tell them we made a truce. Then you never have to see my ugly face again.”
I’m pretty sure Doolin was thinking about breaking my fingers while we shook—but I walked away fine. I took my guys back down the path, and he took his guys inside the cabin to start cleaning up. (If it were me, I would have started with what Bombardier left under the cabin.)
“What’d you say to him?” Smurf asked me while we were walking away. “What was that all about?”
“I just reasoned with him,” I said. “Showed him the light, you know?”
“Yeah, right,” Smurf said. He knew something was up, but there wasn’t any time to talk about it.
My work here was done.