By 10:00 a.m., the old green bus was loaded and moving slowly away from Enid Point, inching uphill with its tires spinning in the mud. It eventually made it to a paved road and everyone relaxed. As it gained speed and began humming down the road, many of the Scouts closed their eyes and drifted away. During the night, most had slept on and off. When they managed to fall asleep they dreamed of monstrous vipers with sharp fangs dripping with deadly venom, and when they were awake they could practically hear the snakes out there, just beyond their tents. Now, in the safety of their bus and headed home, they were suddenly overcome with fatigue.
The weather turned even worse. Traffic was slow and they passed two serious auto accidents as they crept toward Strattenburg. The two-hour drive became four, and the Scouts grew tired of the bus. When it crossed the Yancey River and rolled into downtown, they let out a cheer. At the VFW, they unloaded their muddy gear and made plans to clean it the following afternoon.
By 3:00 p.m., Theo was home. Fresh from a long shower, he sat with Judge in the den and ate chicken noodle soup while his father read the Sunday newspaper and his mother flipped through a novel.
The Major flatly refused to allow his Scouts to take their cell phones and laptops on camping trips. Camping was a great getaway, an outdoor adventure far from most of modern civilization, and he didn’t want to ruin things by the parents getting hourly updates on everything the Scouts were doing. Nor did the Major tolerate pushy parents who made demands and wanted special treatment for their unique little boys.
So, Theo’s parents had not heard the news about the great snakebite. After he finished eating, and Judge was licking the bowl, Theo told them the story.
His mother was horrified, while his father found it amusing. They didn’t know Percy or his parents, and Theo did a fine job of describing what a misfit the kid really was. He went on to tell about his late-night meeting with the Major, and ended it all with the news that he was being suspended for two months as the leader of the Falcon Patrol.
“That’s absurd,” his mother said. His father seemed to agree. For half an hour they discussed, and often debated, the actions taken by Theo and the decision made by the Major. At one point, Theo announced, “I’m thinking about quitting scouting.”
Both parents went silent.
Theo continued: “The Major thinks a Scout patrol is just like a Marine unit where everyone follows orders perfectly. Doesn’t work that way. We’re not that disciplined. I can’t bark orders and boss people around. Nothing I could’ve said or done would’ve kept Percy away from that snake. I think the punishment is too harsh and unfair.”
“I agree,” said his mother.
“Maybe so,” said his father, “but quitting seems to be an overreaction. You love scouting, Theo. You’re on the fast track to becoming an Eagle Scout. Seems a shame to throw it all away because of one incident.”
“Your father is right, Theo. Quitting is not the answer. Life is not fair, and you can’t quit every time something unfair happens to you.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Theo protested. “The entire event happened in a matter of seconds. I couldn’t have prevented it.”
“So what?” his father said. “Your scoutmaster thinks otherwise. He’s the leader, the boss, a man you happen to admire greatly and a man who thinks a lot of you. You can’t convince me Major Ludwig would ever be unfair to you, Theo. Or to anyone else for that matter.”
His mother added, “Theo, you said yourself many times that your troop is lucky to have such a great scoutmaster. This time you disagree with him. He’s responsible for forty or so kids away from home during a long weekend. That’s an enormous responsibility, and Major Ludwig does it every month. That’s a lot of pressure on anyone. Now, a kid got hurt, and when something goes wrong the boss is ultimately responsible. Percy’s parents will blame the Major, the whole troop, and probably the entire Boy Scouts of America.”
“They’ll probably sue,” Mr. Boone managed to insert.
Mrs. Boone continued, “Think about the next time, Theo. The next time a group of Scouts is hiking through the woods and they come upon a poisonous snake. They’ll remember this episode. The patrol leaders will be quick to retreat, and maybe no one will get hurt.”
To which Theo responded, “Or maybe it’ll be Percy again and he’ll get tangled up with another snake.”
Mr. Boone lifted his newspaper as if he needed to continue reading it. “Quitting is not the answer, Theo. Hang in there, get tough, double up on your merit badge work, and show the Major you can take the punishment.” And with that he disappeared behind the sports section.
Mrs. Boone was a bit more sympathetic, but not much. She said, “If you quit, Theo, you will regret it for the rest of your life. You’re only young once, and there’s only one chance to succeed in scouting. It’s been great fun until now, very rewarding, so don’t let one bad episode ruin everything. Your father and I will be sorely disappointed if you drop out.”
Theo was often amazed at how other kids’ parents were so quick to butt in and cause trouble. They sent e-mails to teachers at school complaining about this and that. They harassed coaches after practices and even after games if so-and-so didn’t play enough. They marched into Mrs. Gladwell’s office unannounced and defended their kids when their kids were clearly wrong. They threatened to sue if so-and-so got cut from the team, or excluded from the school play, or didn’t make the cheerleading squad.
At the moment, though, he sort of wished his own parents could show a little more support. Now they were both reading. Judge had a full stomach and was asleep with his tongue hanging out. No one wanted to listen to Theo, so he went upstairs to kill time on his laptop.
Monday morning, and Theo was not excited about starting another week of school, and with good reason. By the time he sat at his desk in Mr. Mount’s homeroom at 8:40, he had already been asked a dozen times about the great snakebite.
Percy’s mother had evidently taken a photo of her poor child as he lay wounded in a hospital bed over in Knottsburg. The photo captured Percy’s smiling and goofy face, but the center point was his bare, swollen leg. And it was really puffed up. Like all smart people who want to share their private lives with the world, his mother then posted the photo on Percy’s Facebook page, and she, or someone, added a brief story describing how the brave Scout had gotten himself tangled up with an “eight-foot copperhead” and its “jagged” fangs.
Of course, no blame whatsoever was laid on Percy. No, sir. An “unidentified” member of the Falcon Patrol was accused of shoving and tripping the poor boy in such a manner as to make him fall directly upon the snake, who was further described as “unusually aggressive.” Reading the story, one easily got the impression that Percy had been minding his own business and hardly aware that a snake was nearby.
The photo was posted Sunday night while Theo was reading a book and ignoring his laptop. By Monday morning, it looked as though he was the only kid in school who hadn’t seen it. The story dominated all gossip in the hallways and homerooms, and by the time the bell rang for first period, there were rumors that poor Percy might lose a leg.
He was becoming a legend. Out of a school with 320 students, he was the only kid who’d ever been bitten by a poisonous snake. Percy Dixon was now famous, and not because he had accomplished anything.
Famous because he was a jerk, Theo thought as he seethed and bit his tongue and gritted his way through the day. Only in America.
Theo was sick of Percy and his snakebite. As soon as possible after the final bell, he hurried to the VFW. Behind the building, the Major had scattered all of the pup tents and gear and was washing down the large coolers. About half of the troop showed up for the extra work, but Theo didn’t worry about the absentees. He and Phillip and Cal immediately went about the job of pitching the Falcon tents and wiping off mud with soap and water. The tents had to be cleaned and dried; if not, they would mildew in storage.