5 Happy Campers

HAPPY CAMPERS Ivy had just finished tying Bean's arm and leg

together behind her back when they heard a voice say, "That's weird." "What?" said Ivy, looking around. She got up to investigate. "Hey!" called Bean. "You can't just walk away!" "What are you doing?" asked Ivy. "I'm trying to get the heck out of this rope!" yelled Bean. But Ivy was talking to someone else. Two someone elses. They were peeking out of a bush.

"We're running away from home," said one of them. He was a little kid, littler than Ivy and Bean. "No, we're not. He says anything," the other one said. She was about their age. "Are you doing a trick?" "Welcome to Camp Flaming Arrow," said Bean in her best counselor voice. It was hard to look like a counselor with her foot tied to her hand but she tried. "Camp What?" asked the girl. "Camp Flaming Arrow," said Ivy. "You know, whoosh through the air, sizzle." She added, "Some people call it Camp Neanderthal." The girl looked at Bean. "Why is she all tied up?" "Crafts!" yelled Bean, struggling to get her foot free. The boy set down his backpack. "That's a good craft. Can I be in your camp?" "I thought you were running away from home," said Ivy.

"No." The girl shook her head. "We're visiting our great-aunt. She told us to come here and play. We can't go back to her house until dinner." "Wow," said Ivy. "Dinner's a long time from now." The girl nodded. "She's kind of crabby." Bean heaved herself over onto her side with a thump. She smiled, showing all her teeth. "Welcome to Camp Flaming Arrow, a week of fun and inspiration for g—kids." The boy was a boy, so it couldn't be just for girls. "I'm Counselor Bean, and that girl is Counselor Ivy." The boy's name was Harlan, and he was six years old. His sister was Franny, and she was seven. Harlan asked where the other campers were. Bean tried to think of a good answer. She couldn't. "Actually, there aren't any other—" "Camp doesn't really start until next week," Ivy broke in.

"Right!" said Bean. "This is practice week. Just for counselors." "But we'll make an exception for you," said Ivy. Bean nodded seriously. "You're lucky. If you came next week, you might not get in. This camp is pretty popular." Ivy nodded seriously, too. "You don't look very old to be counselors," said Franny. "Oh, we're old all right," said Bean. "We're short for our ages," said Ivy. "Really short." She sighed sadly. Harlan and Franny could tell that it wouldn't be polite to ask any more questions about that. "Now! We always start with a little talk about camp rules!" said Bean, rubbing her hands together. "So sit down! Crisscross applesauce! Hop to it!" Harlan and Franny plopped down on the grass and waited obediently. Ivy and Bean looked at each other with shining eyes. This was

going to be good. No one ever let them make the rules. "Rule number one!" said Bean. "You can only have as much fun as you are willing to get hurt!" "What?" said Franny. "Rule two!" said Ivy. "Live and learn!" Her mom said that a lot. "Rule three!" yelled Bean. "The counselor is always right!" Ivy began to giggle. "Rule four! If you want to make an omelet, you're going to have to break some eggs!" "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" bellowed Bean.