“Big Joe!” he said.
Tony and Vinnie looked over. Riley tightened his stroke, bringing his arms closer to his body and his legs up to the surface. He watched the spot as he moved away from it.
“Watch your toes,” Vinnie said, smiling.
Whatever had been there was gone, but it had left Riley with a new surge of adrenaline. This lake really was magical. He could feel its energy coursing through him.
Riley didn’t buy Barry’s story about Maynard or those other ghosts haunting the lake. There was no negative energy in here—just a legendary giant snapper. A real one.
By the time they reached the yellow buoy, they’d caught Singh and McDonald.
“How you holding up?” Vinnie asked Riley.
“Holding up great.”
“Tony?”
“I’m okay.”
“Let’s drop these chumps,” Vinnie said. He put his head down and returned to the crawl. Riley and Tony did, too.
They swam harder for about two minutes, staying together. When Riley looked back, McDonald was fifteen meters behind. But Rios and Singh were still in contention.
This is it now
, Riley thought. The ten hardest minutes of his life, but it’d be worth it. He could feel Big Joe’s presence, but he wasn’t scared. Just excited.
He stayed tucked behind Vinnie and Tony, enduring as well as he could as the five swimmers churned through the water. He felt another surge of enthusiasm as Singh suddenly dropped off the pace.
Rios stroked hard and pulled alongside Tony. He wasn’t yielding at all. Riley’d been with him since the opening seconds, but now Rios was pouring it on.
Riley could see Barry and Hernando and the others up on the dock, about three hundred meters away. A lone swimmer was approaching the finish line, and a tight group of four was battling for the next places.
Another announcement rang out over the lake: “Alvarez is way ahead of record pace. Let’s make some noise and bring him home!”
So Moretti had faltered. Would he hold on for second? Riley couldn’t tell what was going on in the pack up ahead.
Everyone in his group was straining now. Each stroke brought them closer.
“Big points!” Vinnie gasped. “Hang in, Riley.”
Riley’s arms were heavy now. His heart was pounding against his ribs.
He glanced back quickly. Several swimmers were still within striking distance. Any letup would definitely cost him a few places.
But no one was pulling away. Vinnie and Tony and Rios were still right there, an arm’s distance from him, hoping to reserve just enough strength for a kick. Riley knew he probably couldn’t out-sprint any of them over a very short distance. But maybe he could make them work just enough to exhaust them, to rob any kick they might have left.
He’d been cautious enough. Now it was time to move. He counted twenty hard strokes with each arm, then popped his head up. He’d moved ahead, just a meter or so, but all three seemed to be breathing even harder. They’d had to work to keep up with him. Riley was in sixth place.
Breathe
, he told himself.
Keep stroking
.
Again he surged. Another count of twenty. Still they were with him, but nobody was talking anymore.
Now he could hear Barry yelling. He could see Patrick and Hernando pumping their fists, less than one hundred meters away.
And just ahead in the water, struggling mightily, was a swimmer in a red headband. Moretti. He was perhaps
twenty meters in front of Riley, but he’d had a gap of well over a minute not long before.
One more surge
, Riley thought. These guys would be going all out over the final fifty meters. He needed to build a lead.
It hurt. It hurt worse than anything he’d ever experienced. But he’d never had so much at stake. This wasn’t about the team; it was about him.
He inched ahead. The water was noisy now—Vinnie and Tony and Rios churning behind him, the spectators yelling, Riley’s own breath coming in loud, shallow huffs.
“Sprint!” Was that Barry yelling or was it all in Riley’s head? It didn’t matter now. Sprinting was all he could do.
Moretti was right there. Fifth place could be Riley’s. His arms and legs were burning now, his stomach muscles twitching.
Everything
, he yelled inside.
Every ounce you’ve got!
Moretti surged. Riley rose out of the water, reaching for the dock. His hands hit it first. He’d done it.
He shut his eyes and sank beneath the water. When he emerged, he watched Tony and then Vinnie grab the next two spots.
It took him forever to climb out of the water. Barry came over and smacked him on the shoulder. “Fantastic job, Night Crawler.”
“Did we win it?” Riley gasped.
“Too close to tell.”
Riley smacked hands with Eldon, who had sprinted in for fifteenth, the final scoring position. Then he walked to the far end of the dock, away from everybody else.
Twilight. Up the hill he could see smoke from the barbecue pit. Across the lake the totem pole was catching the dwindling rays of the sun. The last few swimmers were approaching the finish line, with several rowboats trailing behind.
Maybe they’d won it; he’d know soon enough. A gold medal would be nice, but it would be nothing compared to fifth place in the Showdown.
That
he’d earned by himself. As an athlete.
He’d come a long way since that qualifying race. To night he’d knocked off a dozen guys who were clearly expected to beat him.
Riley took a last long look at the lake.
Then he headed for the barbecue.
Maybe next year he’d come back and win it all.
CABIN 3 WINS BIG JOE TROPHY
Late Surge by Swimmers Makes the Difference
The Threshers ran up 49 points on the strength of four top-ten finishers in the Lake Surprise Showdown, moving from third place to the top of the standings in the final event of camp.
Led by Riley Liston’s surprising fifth-place finish, the Threshers added points from Tony Maniglia (7th), Vinnie Kazmerski (8th), Colin Dugan (10th), and Eldon Johnson (15th).
Duncan Alvarez defended his title, smashing the camp record in 36:54. Cabin 1 had the first two finishers and the last two.
Final Big Joe Standings
Cabin 3
171 points
Cabin 4
166
Cabin 5
165
Cabin 1
125
Cabin 2
96
Cabin 6
81
Lake Surprise Showdown Results
Duncan Alvarez (Cabin 1) 36:54
Jerry Irwin (1) 38:31
Kelvin Dawkins (4) 38:35
Danny Avila (5) 38:37
Riley Liston (3) 39:16
Avery Moretti (6) 39:17
Tony Maniglia (3) 39:21
Vinnie Kazmerski (3) 39:22
Johnny Rios (5) 39:24
Colin Dugan (3) 40:35
Nigel Singh (2) 40:37
Ryan McDonald (2) 40:40
Lionel Robertson (6) 41:01
Omar Ventura (2) 41:48
Eldon Johnson (3) 42:33
Malik Rivera (4) 42:36
Troy Hiller (6) 42:41
Jorge Medina (1) 43:18
Mark Shields (1) 43:22
— Jason Sullivan (2) did not finish
Rich Wallace
is the acclaimed author of many books for young readers, including
Perpetual Check; One Good Punch
, an ALA-YALSA Best Book for Young Adults;
Wrestling Sturbridge
, an ALA Top Ten Best Book for Young Adults; and
Shots on Goal
, a
Booklist
Top 10 Youth Sports Book. At age eleven, he spent two weeks at Camp Aheka in New Jersey, where he swam a mile in Surprise Lake, home of a legendary giant snapping turtle named Big Joe.
Rich Wallace lives in New Hampshire with his wife, author Sandra Neil Wallace. You can visit him on the Web at
www.richwallacebooks.com
.
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 by Rich Wallace
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wallace, Rich.
Sports camp / Rich Wallace. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Eleven-year-old Riley Liston tries to fit in at Camp Olympia, a summer sports camp where he is one of the youngest boys.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89535-7
[1. Camps—Fiction. 2. Sports—Fiction. 3. Competition (Psychology)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.W15877Sp 2010
[Fic]—dc22
2009004278
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