Broken Hands and Weathered Souls: a Holes Fanfiction

One down

The next morning, the guys gave Stanley the honorary D-Tent wake up call. Magnet pulled the blanket off of him, X-Ray shoved him off of his cot into the mess of tangled sheets, and Squid threw a glass of ice-cold water in his face. (A role I think he enjoyed a little too much.)

We all laughed as Stanley sputtered and scrambled to stand up, also being startled by the blaring of Mr. Sir's loud, out-of-tune trumpet. "Wha- what's happening!" He tripped over the sheets at the foot of his cot, landing on the top of the mattress. He yanked the blankets off of him, realizing what was going on. "Yeah, thanks you guys." Sarcasm was all too apparent in his voice as he stood up and walked over to his suitcase to get dressed

I slid on a jumpsuit over a gray T-shirt, and pulled my hair back into a long braid. It was becoming easier to get up every morning, despite the trumpet and late nights. Actually having the energy to bother doing my hair was a milestone for me. It meant I was getting used to the camp routines. The digging wasn't so hard as when I'd started, and my hands were still soft, but in the process of becoming calloused over. It was almost a blessing not to be the new camper anymore.

Pushing away my thoughts, I joined the others at the library in time to watch Stanley grab the taped shovel.

Idiot

X-Ray immediately snatched it away and tossed a new one down at Stanley's feet. I grabbed a honey tortilla as Magnet came up to the new guy. "You picked the taped shovel. It's smaller than the rest of them."

Squid joined them, happily munching on breakfast. He patted Stanley on the shoulder. "Smaller shovel, smaller hole." He explained, and left him to walk next to me.

I wasn't hungry, and had only taken a few bites out of my tortilla. Normally, I would have scarfed it down on sight, but today I didn't feel so famished as soon as I woke up. Maybe because I was actually starting to eat more than bread and water during dinner. (Like I said, adjusting to camp.) Squid licked the honey off of his fingers from his previously finished tortilla, and stared at my barely touched breakfast. "You gonna eat that?" He asked.

I handed it to him, and we walked in comfortable silence to the digging site. The wind was starting to pick up, and sand was blowing all over the place. We all shielded our eyes against the dust before settling at the digging site a half mile away. Mr. sir pulled Stanley aside and gave him the usual song and dance of digging.

After he was given instructions, I watched as Stanley was struggled to get his shovel into the ground. After hacking at the dirt with the blade, he tried to hop on top of it, and fell almost immediately. Dust flew up around where he landed, settling in his curly brown hair.

"One down, ten million to go," Mr. Sir called over his shoulder as he started his walk back to camp. Stanley got up, dusted himself off, and emptied a bit of his canteen into the dirt. He then poked around with his shovel, turning up some dirt that had become softer due to the water.

There you go. I smiled and started my own hole. It wasn't long before the sun came out, but took more time for the blistering heat to settle in. The seemingly merciful sun had decided to give us a break that day.

It was about damn time.

It was 10:30 when half of my hole was done, and the rest of the guys were about in the same spot.....except for poor Stanley. He'd started his hole too close to both Zigzag's and Squid's and their dirt piles were beginning to form in Stanley's attempt at a hole.