Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11 Hamilton Holt, it turned out, was a flagpole– climbing champ. Part of his dad's training regimen for the family, he explained to Dan, was climbing all manner of obstacles. Dan received detailed instructions in exchange for a promise to tell Hamilton what, if anything, was inside the horn. "I don't know—" Amy said doubtfully. "It's worth the risk," Dan argued. "There might be nothing inside. And even if there is something, I didn't promise to give it to him, only to tell him what it is." He reviewed Hamilton's instructions. "Ham said that if the pole's metal, clothes make you slip." He pulled off his T–shirt. Nellie's eyes widened. "So you're supposed to take off all your clothes?" "Are you out of your mind?" Dan said. "I'm not climbing this thing naked!"

"I didn't say that— you said—" "He said to wear sneakers and strip down as much as possible," Dan said. "I don't think I have to be completely naked." Nellie covered her mouth with her hand and turned away; Amy cleared her throat several times. Both of them were clearly hiding giggles. So immature. He decided to ignore them for the moment. "I'm supposed to keep my body as close to the pole as I can by wrapping my legs around it." Dan said. "Then I reach up with my hands, reposition my feet, and hike myself higher." "Be careful," Amy said. She and Nellie stood on opposite sides of the base of the sculpture. Dan took one last look at the horn. Then he grabbed the pole, wrapped his legs around it, and began pulling himself up a little at a time. The ridges of the twisted pole dug into his sunburned legs, making him wince. After about six inches of progress, he let go and dropped back down to the ground. "Okay," he said, flexing his fingers and hands. It

hurt to grip so hard. "I've got the feel of it." He gazed again at the top of the pole; the horn suddenly looked much farther away. "It's harder than I thought." "Want me to try?" Nellie asked. "No, thanks, I'll give it another shot." He felt almost insulted by the offer. "If we gave you a boost, you could start up higher," Amy suggested. With some maneuvering, several grunts, and more than one "ouch," they managed to get Dan standing with one foot on Nellie's shoulder and the other on Amy's, holding on to the pole. "Way better," he said. He was now already almost halfway to the top. Cautiously, he took his right foot off Amy's shoulder and wrapped his leg around the pole. "Here I go," he said, and took his left foot off Nellie. Hands— feet— hands— feet… Hamilton had said to keep an even rhythm. It was almost like Dan's hands started looking forward to the tiny rest they got when he let go to move them up

farther. In what seemed like almost no time, he reached the top. "I did it!" he called down to the girls. First mistake. He was much higher than he'd expected! It wasn't like being in a plane or on top of a building— there was nothing keeping him in the air but his own muscle power. Dan gulped. Okay, so don't look down again, he told himself firmly. "Look in the horn!" Amy was calling back. "Do you see anything?" Now things got tricky. He was right up against the side of the horn. The flared opening jutted out from the pole almost an arm's length. There was no way he could look into the opening. "I can't look into it," he said. "I'm just going to have to try to reach in." He held on with his left hand and stretched out his right. Gingerly, he put his hand inside. Nothing but the horn's metal interior. He adjusted his grip on the pole and reached in a little farther. Then he felt something else—

prickly? No, crawly… "YIKES!" he shouted. With a panicked motion of his hand, he swept out whatever it was he had just touched and flung it toward the ground. Amy knew what it was as soon as she saw it falling. She knew because it was her secret nightmare: She would recognize it instantly, anywhere. Sharks, scary. Venomous snakes, scary. Huge spiders, scary. But for Amy, this particular creature was beyond scary. It wasn't just frightening. It was almost… evil. Amy knew this was irrational. Animals weren't evil. They were what they were, and maybe she should even admire this one. It had been in existence for millions of years, surviving when other species had been unable to adapt. But she couldn't help it. Her fear seemed to come from so deep inside it was part of her DNA— a complete and instinctive kind of fear. She could hardly have seen more than its color

and size— dark and small— as it fell through the air when the word exploded in her mind. Scorpion! As Amy watched in utter horror, the scorpion fell onto Nellie's head, bounced once, and landed on her back, just below her shoulder. "Nellie," she whispered. It wasn't even really a whisper; she had barely moved her lips. Amy felt a familiar panic. The kind where she would end up frozen, unable to move or speak. NO! she yelled at herself. DON'T FREEZE— move something, anything! She clenched and unclenched her fists. Just once, but somehow it seemed to help. She could almost feel the blood moving through her hands and arms and up into her body. Now she forced her voice out of hiding. "Nellie," she said. "Do. Not. Move." Amy crouched down and picked up the T–shirt Dan had thrown on the ground. Then she tiptoed