“Is he dead?”
“Not yet.” Mortin points to where Ophisa’s middle legs meet his thorax. “If we stab here, we’ll get his heart. Ada?”
“Peregrine?”
“I don’t want to do it. I’m … I’m burned out.”
“I’m not saying, kill him. I’m saying, say one of your prayers.”
“Oh! Right. Lord, thank you so much for letting us not get killed and eaten, and please rest this creature’s soul, even though he seemed pretty evil, and if Sam’s just paralyzed, I hope we can get him back. Amen.”
“Amen,” Mortin says, and then Ada hands him a barbecue fork.
He sticks it into Ophisa’s body. He turns away and holds his nose as he works the fork inside the creature, squelching this way and that, moving through paralyzed meat … and then he finds something vital. He shoves the fork all the way in, making it disappear. Brown blood gouts onto the floor. Ophisa’s body sags and collapses. The eyes on his limp head lose their iridescence.
107
“WHAT ABOUT SAM?” I ASK. HE’S STILL frozen, eyes open, teeth clenched.
“We have to take him back to help him,” Mortin says. “Only a precise set of other-normal herbs will reverse Ophisa’s poison.”
The steam from the dishwasher is clearing out. The side of the kitchen that we entered through is just rubble now, but the clock that was there, which somehow still operates, says 4:23. I can’t believe that no counselors have come to see the commotion. This really is a ghetto camp.
“What do we do about this?” I ask.
“By ‘this’ you mean …”
“This!” I point to the rubble. “This!” I point to the huge monster carcass.
“Oh. We burn it.”
“We can’t burn down the dining hall!”
“Why? You need a new dining hall anyway. Get Sam out of here. I’ll handle it.”
I’m about to protest—but Ada lifts Sam’s body, and I want to help. We sandwich him between our shoulders and stagger out the back entrance to the kitchen, emerging on the porch in the warm summer night. The air hits me and I breathe it in more thankfully than I’ve ever breathed anything. I never once stepped out of Mom’s house or Dad’s house and sniffed the air and thought, I’m glad to be alive.
“How are your toes?” I ask Ada.
“They’ll live.” She shows them to me. The flesh has been eaten off the tips of each one. Her sparkling nails are now just raw skin.
“But … how can you walk? Aren’t you in serious pain?”
“Aren’t you in serious pain where that acid hit your legs?”
“I can’t tell. It’s too exciting.”
“That’s how it works. Tomorrow is when we’re gonna hurt.”
Mortin runs out after us. “Go!” He tips Sam back and holds his shoulders as Ada and I each take an ankle. We move as fast as we can down the porch. A blast of heat hits us from behind. I turn to see fat orange flames leaping out of the dining hall.
“Go! Go! Go!”
We stagger over the WELCOME TO CAMP WASHISKA LAKE! banner; it lies on the steps in a heap. Ophisa must have knocked it down. As soon as we reach the parking lot, a thunderous boom sounds behind us. We lay Sam down and shield our faces as twisted chrome blows out of the dining hall and into nearby trees.
“And that was the furnace,” Mortin says, satisfied. Underneath the building, huddled in the rocks, a shaking figure stands.
“Ryu! You’re still here? Go! It’s all gonna burn!”
He shakes his head. He’s taken the mittens out of his mouth and unraveled the yarn. He twirls it in his fingers.
“I’m serious! Go!”
He shakes his head in small, tight motions.
“He’s gone,” Mortin says. “Some people can’t handle the unexpected.”
108
WE MOVE INTO THE WOODS, PAST THE rock where Anna and I had our failed kiss. Behind us, the dining hall’s roof caves in; a yawning pit of flame opens up; ash and smoke pour into the sky.
“So you guys are taking Sam back to cure him.... What about me?” I picture myself touching the battery and mushrooms again—and then I realize: “How did you even get here? I destroyed the mushroom patch!”
“How long has it been since you did that?”
“A week!”
“Mushrooms grow fast,” Mortin says, “and no, we’re not taking you back. We’ve uncovered a worldwide conspiracy. The Appointees are evil and they’ve got to be deposed in favor of a real government. Maybe not like yours, but … something decent. We’re revolutionaries now.”
“So take me! I can help!”
“Of course you can. But we need you here to give a story to the counselors about why Sam’s missing. Say you were out exploring and Ryu attacked you and all of a sudden the building lit on fire and you don’t know where Sam went. Then, when his family gets called, reassure them that everything’s going to be okay. Otherwise there’s going to be a lot of needless worry. Plus it’d be nice to have a pair of eyes here. I’ve got some suspicions about correspondences at Camp Washiska Lake.”
“Like Dale Blaswell and Officer Tendrile? And the princess and Anna Margolis? And Leidan and my brother?”
“You’re catching on.”
We move through the woods. I spot one of the branches I snapped on my way back from the mushroom patch. Of course it’s hard to notice now, with all the destruction Ophisa has caused. “How am I going to explain this damage?”
Ada answers, “You ever hear of the Tunguska event, Peregrine?”
I shake my head.
“In 1908, over Siberia, an explosion took place in the sky that knocked over eighty million trees. Scientists eventually decided that it was a comet that blew up in the atmosphere.”
“So? Was that it really?”
“Doesn’t matter. After a few years of speculation, a nice scientific consensus emerged. Something boring, nonthreatening. That’s what will happen here. Humans are really good at it. Maybe they’ll say it was a freak lightning storm. A homegrown militia game gone wrong. It’s not your concern.”
“When will you bring Sam back?”
“Let’s get to the battery first.”
We hustle through the woods to the Logo Spermatikoi. When we get there, Leidan Enaw is sitting pretty next to the princess and Officer Tendrile, who lie bound on the ground. Their tentacles are tied together with extension cords; Tendrile’s severed one bleeds lightly. Their arms are secured with belts; their mouths are gagged with underwear. They struggle weakly.
“How—”
“All from the Lost and Found,” Leidan says. “After Mortin and Ada grabbed some clothes and went to save you, they sent me here to guard the battery. These two showed up an hour later trying to sneak back home. I bashed them with this”—he holds up a baseball bat—“and secured them.” He swings the bat. “Also from the Lost and Found.”
Tendrile moans. He rocks his head back and forth. He spots me. “Mmmmph!” He tries to sit up. Leidan pushes him down with the bat. “Looks like he’s got something to say. You want to hear it?”
I genuinely consider the possibility. “No,” I say. “No, I don’t think I need to hear him at all.”
109
ADA CHECKS ON THE FRESHLY GROWN mushrooms next to the tree. Leidan keeps an eye on Tendrile and the princess, who just stares up, an empty beautiful shell with a nightmare groin. Mortin reaches into his sweatpants and pulls out my Pekker Cland miniature. It’s untouched by Ophisa’s acid; it still looks like me.
“What? How?”
“It was still in your backpack. I got it before I set the fire. This isn’t just a pewter figure anymore, Perry. It’s a beacon. You’ll find it quite hard to destroy. It’s become charged with correspondational energy. Its unique importance to you as you went through your journey has given it abilities.”
“Magic?”
“Just keep it on you. It’s tied to you now, and you’re tied to us. If you see it glow, that means we need you.”
/> I put it in my pocket and realize that this is good-bye.
“What am I going to do without you guys? I have so many questions! How do I handle Dale? How do I handle Anna? How do I handle … everything?”
“You figure it out,” says Ada. “That’s what you do, Peregrine: you figure things out.”
She starts prepping the battery for transit. I turn Sam over—he’s breathing steadily at least—and remove his backpack. I know he has to be naked to go to the World of the Other Normals. “I’m not taking your clothes off,” I tell his unconscious body. “Mortin can do that. But I am taking one thing.”
I pull out the Polaroid that he took from Dale’s cabin.
“Guys? Picture?”
110
TWO DAYS LATER, I LIE ON THE FLOOR OF my yurt after lunch and compose a letter to my parents. I haven’t written them … well, ever, but when I force myself to sit down and start, I find it flows quickly. No television or phones interrupt my letter. It’s like having their undivided attention for once.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I assume one of you will read this and pass it to the other, maybe through your lawyers, but I encourage you to read it together like the old days. How are you? I am fine. Camp is great. Jake is doing an excellent job as a CA and I see him every day. Some big things happened since I got your first letter (thanks, Dad) and I wanted to fill you in.
First of all, our dining hall burned down. This may seem like a bad thing but the camp had it insured and they’re starting work on a new one as soon as possible for next year. In the meantime we’re all cooking our meals at campfires! It’s a lot more of a “camp experience,” I think. I’m good at it, too. I can make fires, tend them, and cook everything from hot dogs to fresh fish and crab. It’s made me more popular with my yurtmates.
Also, my friend Sam unexpectedly disappeared, but I have a feeling he’s going to be back any day. Like I told his mom, I know he’s safe. I can’t explain why but I do. You know how sometimes kids are abducted by cult members and then they go missing for years, but when they come back, everything is cool? I have a feeling that’s happening to Sam right now, but without the cult—and it’ll take another day, maybe, not years.
You’ll be happy to know that I’ve been keeping away from Creatures & Caverns. Actually, my book was being stored in the dining hall and it burned in the fire. But that’s okay! I’ve been doing some of my own writing, about my camp experience, and trying to make friends with the other kids. After a few missteps with this guy Ryu, things are looking better. Ryu’s out of the picture, anyway; they found him outside the dining hall after it burned and he’s a prime suspect because he once stabbed a cab driver. He keeps telling the police this crazy story about a monster that attacked the building, and they think he’s trying to cop a fake insanity plea.
Guys, you know how you wanted me to meet girls at camp? I met one. She has an unusual name (I’m keeping it under wraps for now), but I kind of have an unusual name too. Enclosed please find a picture of us. It’s a little weird because we took it on a coed night hike (and we are slightly bruised—camp fun!), but I think it gets the point across. I really like this girl! She lives kind of far away, and we’re taking things slow for now, because we have a lot of differences we’re still learning about. But I think you’d like her too. Note her blue hair. This is because she is “punk rock.” I hope to be seeing more of her.
Over the last two weeks, by the way, I’ve been thinking about my name. I always hated “Perry Eckert,” because it got turned into “Mini Pecker,” but I thought “Peregrine” was worse. I figured it out now. I’m going to stay Perry, because it’s my name and it’s who I am, no matter what, but I’m going to let the girl call me Peregrine. She told me what it means! Mom—I don’t know how you could give me a cool name like Peregrine without telling me what it means. Maybe you never knew yourself? It’s from Latin. It means “traveler.”
Love,
Perry
aka Peregrine
aka Pekker Cland
aka Mortin Enaw
About the Author
SABRA EMBURY
NED VIZZINI is the author of the acclaimed teen books It’s Kind of a Funny Story (which became a major motion picture), Be More Chill, and Teen Angst? Naaah … Ned has written for the New York Times, Salon, and L Magazine. He has spoken at more than two hundred schools, universities, libraries, and organizations around the world about writing and mental health. And his work has been translated into seven languages. Currently he is writing for ABC. You can visit Ned online at www.nedvizzini.com.
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Credits
Cover art © 2012 by Paula Thomas
Cover design by Sarah Hoy
Copyright
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
The Other Normals
Copyright © 2012 by Ned Vizzini
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Vizzini, Ned.
The Other Normals / Ned Vizzini. —1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: “A boy is sent to camp to become a man—but ends up on a fantastical journey that will change his life forever”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-207990-9 (hardcover bdg.)
EPub Edition © JULY 2012 ISBN 9780062079923
[1. Maturation (Psychology)—Fiction. 2. Fantasy.] I. Title.
PZ7.V853Ot 2012
2012014341
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
* * *
12 13 14 15 16 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
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Ned Vizzini, The Other Normals
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