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The Trojan Horse Traitor

By Amy C. Blake

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Levi Prince reached the top of the sandstone steps and read the canvas sign thrashing in the wind like it desperately wanted to escape: WELCOME TO CAMP CLASSIC: YOUR SUMMER-LONG IMMERSION INTO THE CLASSICAL WORLD. Another gust of wind nearly ripped the jacket from his back. Two seagulls dive-bombed him, making Levi duck and cover.

Somehow not feeling all that welcome, Levi glanced back down the steps to the beach and the endless blue-green water stretching as far as he could see. As he watched, the waves churned higher, pummeling the red-and-white ferry he, his family, and a bunch of other campers and their families had exited not fifteen minutes earlier.

Castle Island, the tiny, castle-free (as far as he could tell) speck in the middle of vast Lake Superior, was a full three hours from the mainland. And it would be his home for the summer. His nerves prickled, half in dread of the unknown, half in anticipation of a summer spent miles and miles away from his younger sister and brothers.

Most of the time he liked homeschooling, especially when he finished his work early and got to do whatever he wanted all afternoon. Or when his friends at church told him about their hour-long bus rides to and from school and the horrors of their school uniforms. His uniform alternated between pajamas and sweats, depending on his mood.

Yeah, homeschooling was good. Except that it meant he never got a break from Abby, Zeke, and Jer.

And boy did he ever need a break. He tightened his grip on his Camp Classic invitation, the one that came in the mail back in March. His ticket to a sibling-free summer. It had taken him most of the next six weeks to convince his parents to let him go. He’d been offended they didn’t think he could handle himself for a couple of months without them.

Now, though, the isolation of this place made him wonder what he’d gotten himself into. It didn’t help that a purple-black mass seeped across the morning sky like a bruise, and the ferry bucked hard against its tie ropes. The whole setting made the hair rise on the back of his neck.

He adjusted the collar of his jacket, along with his outlook. So it was going to rain. No big deal. He wouldn’t bail now. He needed this summer on his own.

Levi turned away from the view and toward the path between live oaks and pines he’d seen the others take earlier. He’d taken his time trudging across the sand, hoping to separate himself from his siblings. Between Abby’s nonstop pouting because she couldn’t stay at Camp Classic with Levi, and Zeke and Jer running in circles like monkeys on Mountain Dew, well . . . he kind of hoped if he kept his distance, the other campers wouldn’t know they were related to him.

Levi had only gone a few feet along the path when he heard running footsteps from behind and somebody rammed a bony shoulder into his arm. He whirled around to face a kid who oozed disdain all the way from his perfect black hair to his brand new Nikes. Levi couldn’t help but run a hand over his own hair—so red it was almost orange, and kinked into a thousand ringlets despite the super-short cut he’d gotten only two days earlier.

“Watch where you’re going, runt,” the other kid said with a sneer.
Runt?

“Excuse me?” Yeah, Levi was scrawny, but this guy wasn’t exactly the Hulk.

The kid snatched the invitation from Levi’s hand.

The kid snatched the invitation from Levi’s hand.

“Hey,” Levi protested as he made a swipe for his letter.

“Calm down. I’m just looking.” The boy made a big show of opening and reading the letter then looked up at Levi through narrowed eyes. “Leviticus Isaiah Prince?” Disbelief flattened his tone.

“Yeah?” What had Levi’s parents been thinking? Between the name and the orange afro, he might as well pin a sign to his own back: Target.

“You actually had the nerve to come?” The hatred in the boy’s words pushed Levi backward a step. The right side of the kid’s upper lip curled, exposing a single white canine tooth. A Doberman on the verge of attack.

“Um, why wouldn’t I?” Levi couldn’t decide whether to be mad, scared, or just plain confused. This kid must have him mixed up with somebody else because Levi knew he’d never met him before in his life.

“You don’t belong here.” Doberman boy let out a growl. Literally.

Levi’s mouth fell open. What kind of person growled at random strangers?
Though his whole body tensed to run away, Levi forced himself to stay put. He had to get that letter. Without it, the camp people might not let him stay. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is. Just give me back my—”

Doberman kid snarled, “I’m gonna make your summer a living nightmare, runt.” He slammed into Levi, knocking him to the ground. Then the kid tossed the letter into the wind, spun on his heel, and raced along the path toward camp.

Stunned, Levi stared after him, half-expecting to see a dog tail sprout from the kid’s rear end.

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t feeling the big Camp Classic welcome.

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