Holes by Louis Sachar
He heard the sound of approaching cars.
Mr. Sir and the Warden heard it as well.
“You think it’s them?” asked the Warden.
“It ain’t Girl Scouts selling cookies,” said Mr. Sir.
He heard the cars come to a stop, and the doors open and shut. A little while later he saw Mr. Pendanski and two strangers, coming across the lake. One was a tall man in a business suit and cowboy hat. The other was a short woman holding a briefcase. The woman had to take three steps for every two taken by the man. “Stanley Yelnats?” she called, moving out ahead of the others.
“I suggest you don’t come any closer,” said Mr. Sir.
“You can’t stop me,” she snapped, then took a second glance at him, wearing pajama pants and nothing else. “We’ll get you out of there, Stanley,” she said. “Don’t you worry.” She appeared to be Hispanic, with straight black hair and dark eyes. She spoke with a little bit of a Mexican accent, trilling her r’s.
“What in tarnation?” the tall man exclaimed, as he came up behind her.
She turned on him. “I’m telling you right now, if any harm comes to him, we will be filing charges not only against Ms. Walker and Camp Green Lake but the entire state of Texas as well. Child abuse. False imprisonment. Torture.”
The man was more than a head taller than she, and was able to look directly over her as he spoke to the Warden.
“How long have they been in there?”
“All night, as you can see by the way we’re dressed. They snuck into my cabin while I was asleep, and stole my suitcase. I chased after them, and they ran out here and fell into the lizards’ nest. I don’t know what they were thinking.”
“That’s not true!” Stanley said.
“Stanley, as your attorney, I advise you not to say anything,” said the woman, “until you and I have had a chance to talk in private.”
Stanley wondered why the Warden lied about the suitcase. He wondered who it legally belonged to. That was one thing he wanted to ask his lawyer, if she really was his lawyer.
“It’s a miracle they’re still alive,” said the tall man.
“Yes, it is,” the Warden agreed, with just a trace of disappointment in her voice.
“And they better come out of this alive,” Stanley’s lawyer warned. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d released him to me yesterday.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t a thief,” said the Warden. “I told him he would be set free today, and I guess he decided he’d try to take some of my valuables with him. He’s been delirious for the last week.”
“Why didn’t you release him when she came to you yesterday?” the tall man asked.
“She didn’t have proper authorization,” said the Warden.
“I had a court order!”
“It was not authenticated,” the Warden said.
“Authenticated? It was signed by the judge who sentenced him.”
“I needed authentication from the Attorney General,” said the Warden. “How do I know it’s legitimate? The boys in my custody have proven themselves dangerous to society. Am I supposed to just turn them loose any time someone hands me a piece of paper?”
“Yes,” said the woman. “If it’s a court order.”
“Stanley has been hospitalized for the last few days,” the Warden explained. “He’s been suffering from hallucinations and delirium. Ranting and raving. He was in no condition to leave. The fact that he was trying to steal from me on the day before his release proves …”
Stanley tried to climb out of his hole, using mostly his arms so as not to disturb the lizards too much. As he pulled himself upward, the lizards moved downward, keeping out of the sun’s direct rays. He swung his legs up and over, and the last of the lizards hopped off.
“Thank God!” exclaimed the Warden. She started toward him, then stopped.
A lizard crawled out of his pocket and down his leg.
Stanley was overcome by a rush of dizziness and almost fell over. He steadied himself, then reached down, took hold of Zero’s arm, and helped him slowly to his feet. Zero still held the suitcase.
The lizards, which had been hiding under it, scurried quickly into the hole.
Stanley and Zero staggered away.
The Warden rushed to them. She hugged Zero. “Thank God, you’re alive,” she said, as she tried to take the suitcase from him.
He jerked it free. “It belongs to Stanley,” he said.
“Don’t cause any more trouble,” the Warden warned. “You stole it from my cabin, and you’ve been caught red-handed. If I press charges, Stanley might have to return to prison. Now I’m willing, in view of all the circumstances, to—”
“It’s got his name on it,” said Zero.
Stanley’s lawyer pushed past the tall man to have a look.
“See,” Zero showed her. “Stanley Yelnats.”
Stanley looked, too. There, in big black letters, was STANLEY YELNATS.
The tall man looked over the heads of the others at the name on the suitcase. “You say he stole it from your cabin?”
The Warden stared at it in disbelief. “That’s im … imposs … It’s imposs …” She couldn’t even say it.
48
They slowly walked back to camp. The tall man was the Texas Attorney General, the chief law enforcement officer for the state. Stanley’s lawyer was named Ms. Morengo.
Stanley held the suitcase. He was so tired he couldn’t think straight. He felt as if he was walking in a dream, not quite able to comprehend what was going on around him.
They stopped in front of the camp office. Mr. Sir went inside to get Stanley’s belongings. The Attorney General told Mr. Pendanski to get the boys something to drink and eat.
The Warden seemed as dazed as Stanley. “You can’t even read,” she said to Zero.
Zero said nothing.
Ms. Morengo put a hand on Stanley’s shoulder and told him to hang in there. He would be seeing his parents soon.
She was shorter than Stanley, but somehow gave the appearance of being tall.
Mr. Pendanski returned with two cartons of orange juice and two bagels. Stanley drank the juice but didn’t feel like eating anything.
“Wait!” the Warden exclaimed. “I didn’t say they stole the suitcase. It’s his suitcase, obviously, but he put my things from my cabin inside it.”
“That isn’t what you said earlier,” said Ms. Morengo.
“What’s in the suitcase?” the Warden asked Stanley. “Tell us what’s in it, then we’ll open it and see!”
Stanley didn’t know what to do.
“Stanley, as your lawyer, I advise you not to open your suitcase,” said Ms. Morengo.
“He has to open it!” said the Warden. “I have the right to check the personal property of any of the detainees. How do I know there aren’t drugs or weapons in there? He stole a car, too! I’ve got witnesses!” She was nearly hysterical.
“He is no longer under your jurisdiction,” said Stanley’s lawyer.
“He has not been officially released,” said the Warden. “Open the suitcase, Stanley!”
“Do not open it,” said Stanley’s lawyer. Stanley did nothing.
Mr. Sir returned from the office with Stanley’s backpack and clothes.
The Attorney General handed Ms. Morengo a sheet of paper. “You’re free to go,” he said to Stanley. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here, so you can just keep the orange suit as a souvenir. Or burn it, whatever you want. Good luck, Stanley.”
He reached out his hand to shake, but Ms. Morengo hurried Stanley away. “C’mon, Stanley,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Stanley stopped and turned to look at Zero. He couldn’t just leave him here.
Zero gave him thumbs-up.
“I can’t leave Hector,” Stanley said.
“I suggest we go,” said his lawyer with a sense of urgency in her voice.
“I’ll be okay,” said Zero. His eyes shift
“There’s nothing I can do for your friend,” said Ms. Morengo. “You are released pursuant to an order from the judge.”
“They’ll kill him,” said Stanley.
“Your friend is not in danger,” said the Attorney General. “There’s going to be an investigation into everything that’s happened here. For the present, I am taking charge of the camp.”
“C’mon, Stanley,” said his lawyer. “Your parents are waiting.”
Stanley stayed where he was.
His lawyer sighed. “May I have a look at Hector’s file?” she asked.
“Certainly,” said the Attorney General. “Ms. Walker, go get Hector’s file.”
She looked at him blankly.
“Well?”
The Warden turned to Mr. Pendanski. “Bring me Hector Zeroni’s file.”
He stared at her.
“Get it!” she ordered.
Mr. Pendanski went into the office. He returned a few minutes later and announced the file was apparently misplaced.
The Attorney General was outraged. “What kind of camp are you running here, Ms. Walker?”
The Warden said nothing. She stared at the suitcase.
The Attorney General assured Stanley’s lawyer that he would get the records. “Excuse me, while I call my office.” He turned back to the Warden. “I assume the phone works.” He walked into the camp office, slamming the door behind him. A little while later he reappeared and told the Warden he wanted to talk to her.
She cursed, then went inside.
Stanley gave Zero thumbs-up.
“Caveman? Is that you?”
He turned to see Armpit and Squid coming out of the Wreck Room. Squid shouted back into the Wreck Room, “Caveman and Zero are out here!”
Soon all the boys from Group D had gathered around him and Zero.
“Good to see you, man,” Armpit said, shaking his hand. “We thought you were buzzard food.”
“Stanley is being released today,” said Mr. Pendanski.
“Way to go,” said Magnet, hitting him on the shoulder.
“And you didn’t even have to step on a rattlesnake,” said Squid.
Even Zigzag shook Stanley’s hand. “Sorry about … you know.”
“It’s cool,” said Stanley.
“We had to lift the truck clear out of the hole,” Zigzag told him. “It took everybody in C, D, and E. We just picked it right up.”
“It was really cool,” said Twitch.
X-Ray was the only one who didn’t come over. Stanley saw him hang back behind the others a moment, then return to the Wreck Room.
“Guess what?” said Magnet, glancing at Mr. Pendanski. “Mom says we don’t have to dig any more holes.”
“That’s great,” Stanley said.
“Will you do me a favor?” asked Squid.
“I guess,” Stanley agreed, somewhat hesitantly.
“I want you to—” He turned to Ms. Morengo. “Hey, lady, you have a pen and paper I can borrow?”
She gave it to him, and Squid wrote down a phone number which he gave to Stanley. “Call my mom for me, okay? Tell her … Tell her I said I was sorry. Tell her Alan said he was sorry.”
Stanley promised he would.
“Now you be careful out in the real world,” said Armpit. “Not everybody is as nice as us.” Stanley smiled.
The boys departed when the Warden came out of the office. The Attorney General was right behind her.
“My office is having some difficulty locating Hector Zeroni’s records,” the Attorney General said.
“So you have no claim of authority over him?” asked Ms. Morengo.
“I didn’t say that. He’s in the computer. We just can’t access his records. It’s like they’ve fallen through a hole in cyberspace.”
“A hole in cyberspace,” Ms. Morengo repeated. “How interesting. When is his release date?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long has he been here?”
“Like I said, we can’t—”
“So what are you planning to do with him? Keep him confined indefinitely, without justification, while you go crawling through black holes in cyberspace?”
The Attorney General stared at her. “He was obviously incarcerated for a reason.”
“Oh? And what reason was that?”
The Attorney General said nothing.
Stanley’s lawyer took hold of Zero’s hand. “C’mon, Hector, you’re coming with us.”
49
There never used to be yellow-spotted lizards in the town of Green Lake. They didn’t come to the area until after the lake dried up. But the townsfolk had heard about the “red-eyed monsters” living in the desert hills.
One afternoon, Sam, the onion man, and his donkey, Mary Lou, were returning to his boat, which was anchored just a little off shore. It was late in November and the peach trees had lost most of their leaves.
“Sam!” someone called.
He turned around to see three men running after him, waving their hats. He waited. “Afternoon, Walter. Bo, Jesse,” he greeted them, as they walked up, catching their breath.
“Glad we caught you,” said Bo. “We’re going rattlesnake hunting in the morning.”
“We want to get some of your lizard juice,” said Walter.
“I ain’t a-scared of no rattlesnake,” said Jesse. “But I don’t want to come across one of those red-eyed monsters. I seen one once, and that was enough. I knew about the red eyes, of course. I hadn’t heard about the big black teeth.”
“It’s the white tongues that get me,” said Bo.
Sam gave each man two bottles of pure onion juice. He told them to drink one bottle before going to bed that night, then a half bottle in the morning, and then a half bottle around lunchtime.
“You sure this stuff works?” asked Walter.
“I tell you what,” said Sam. “If it doesn’t, you can come back next week and I’ll give you your money back.”
Walter looked around unsure, as Bo and Jesse laughed. Then Sam laughed, too. Even Mary Lou let out a rare hee-haw.
“Just remember,” Sam told the men before they left. “It’s very important you drink a bottle tonight. You got to get it into your bloodstream. The lizards don’t like onion blood.”
Stanley and Zero sat in the backseat of Ms. Morengo’s BMW. The suitcase lay between them. It was locked, and they decided they’d let Stanley’s father try to open it in his workshop.
“You don’t know what’s in it, do you?” she asked.
“No,” said Stanley.
“I didn’t think so.”
The air-conditioning was on, but they drove with the windows open as well, because, “No offense, but you boys really smell bad.”
Ms. Morengo explained that she was a patent attorney. “I’m helping your father with the new product he’s invented. He happened to mention your situation, so I did a little investigating. Clyde Livingston’s sneakers were stolen sometime before 3:15. I found a young man, Derrick Dunne, who said that at 3:20 you were in the bathroom fishing your notebook out of the toilet. Two girls remembered seeing you come out of the boys’ restroom carrying a wet notebook.”
Stanley felt his ears redden. Even after everything he’d been through, the memory still caused him to feel shame.
“So you couldn’t have stolen them,” said Ms. Morengo.
“He didn’t. I did,” said Zero.
“You did what?” asked Ms. Morengo.
“I stole the sneakers.”
The lawyer actually turned around while driving and looked at him. “I didn’t hear that,” she said. “And I advise you to make sure I don’t hear it again.”
“What did my father invent?” Stanley asked. “Did he find a way to recycle sneakers?”
“No, he’s still working on that,” explained Ms. Morengo. “But he invented a product that eliminates foot odor. Here, I’ve got a sampl
She opened her briefcase with one hand and passed a small bottle back to Stanley. It had a fresh and somewhat spicy smell. He handed it to Zero.
“What’s it called?” Stanley asked.
“We haven’t come up with a name yet,” said Ms. Morengo.
“It smells familiar,” said Zero.
“Peaches, right?” asked Ms. Morengo. “That’s what everyone says.”
A short while later both boys fell asleep. Behind them the sky had turned dark, and for the first time in over a hundred years, a drop of rain fell into the empty lake.
PART THREE
FILLING IN THE HOLES
50
Stanley’s mother insists that there never was a curse. She even doubts whether Stanley’s great-great-grandfather really stole a pig. The reader might find it interesting, however, that Stanley’s father invented his cure for foot odor the day after the great-great-grandson of Elya Yelnats carried the great-great-great-grandson of Madame Zeroni up the mountain.
The Attorney General closed Camp Green Lake. Ms. Walker, who was in desperate need of money, had to sell the land which had been in her family for generations. It was bought by a national organization dedicated to the well-being of young girls. In a few years, Camp Green Lake will become a Girl Scout camp.
This is pretty much the end of the story. The reader probably still has some questions, but unfortunately, from here on in, the answers tend to be long and tedious. While Mrs. Bell, Stanley’s former math teacher, might want to know the percent change in Stanley’s weight, the reader probably cares more about the change in Stanley’s character and self-confidence. But those changes are subtle and hard to measure. There is no simple answer.
Even the contents of the suitcase turned out to be somewhat tedious. Stanley’s father pried it open in his workshop, and at first everyone gasped at the sparkling jewels. Stanley thought he and Hector had become millionaires. But the jewels were of poor quality, worth no more than twenty thousand dollars.
Underneath the jewels was a stack of papers that had once belonged to the first Stanley Yelnats. These consisted of stock certificates, deeds of trust, and promissory notes. They were hard to read and even more difficult to understand. Ms. Morengo’s law firm spent more than two months going through all the papers.