No More Mr. Nice - By Renee Roszel Page 0,27

pounds, but Jack was carrying it stoically and uncomplainingly. The teen was big for fourteen. Jess was five-seven, and Jack was about an inch taller, but he outweighed her by fifty pounds of muscle.

She dropped back so he could catch up. “Now that’s what I call helping,” she said to him. “I have this recipe for hamburger patties that’ll curl your hair. It has jalapeño peppers in it. Sound good?”

He peered suspiciously at her. “Sounds gross.”

She stopped to adjust her grip on one suitcase. “I knew you’d love the idea.”

“Hey,” shouted Annie, the black girl who looked remarkably like Janet Jackson, but whose shiny black hair was done Medusa-style. “Door’s stuck or something!” she called.

“They didn’t give me a key, so it shouldn’t be locked.” Jess hurried through the thick stand of trees that partly hid the bunkhouse. “Just a second.”

When she got there, Moses, the other black essay winner, was tugging hard. “Don’t mess wif me, man,” he was grumbling at the door. One more hard tug, and there was a skin-crawling rasping sound as the swollen wood scraped against the concrete porch and the door swung open.

Since the windows were shuttered, it was dark inside. Moses was the first to venture in, searching the nearby wall for a light switch. When he found it, several naked bulbs that hung from the peaked ceiling flashed on to reveal a sitting room/kitchen combination. Farther back, behind half-wall planters, long empty of anything green and living, there were several sets of bunk beds, each with a bare mattress.

As Moses looked around, he was joined by Larry Tenkiller, Annie and Suzy. Jess stepped forward to get a better look.

“Cool,” said Larry.

“Are we all sleeping together?” Suzy, a chubby, pink-cheeked blonde breathed nervously.

“Radical!” Larry piped up, with a bawdy laugh. “Let’s scope this place out.”

“I’m not sleeping in the same room with these butt-heads!” Suzy griped.

“Chill, girl,” Moses rebuked, nudging Spitball. “You ain’t all that fine that I’d mess with you.”

Jess stared at the accommodations—certainly not suitable for both boys and girls. “We’ll figure out something,” she mumbled, her irritation flaring again. How could Lucas Brand have been so insensitive? “I can tell you right now,” she added, “there will be no coed sleeping on this retreat.”

Howie had come in. “Let’s get the windows open, boys,” he suggested. “And you girls look for the broom closet.”

“Good idea,” Jess said, glad to have something for the kids to do while the adults put their heads together to figure out how to arrange the place to separate the boys from the girls. She had an unruly urge to smack Lucas’s arrogant face for his thoughtlessness.

The kids scurried about, their footsteps thudding heavily on the plank floor. Windows were unlatched and sunshine poured in to display the thick layer of dust that had settled over everything. It was just as Jess had feared. The kids would have no fun today. Darn you, Lucas Brand!

She and the other volunteers tried to hide their disgust with smiles and hearty facades as the kids began the cleanup campaign to ready the grubby, musty bunkhouse for the week’s activities ahead.

Jess was sweeping between a couple of sets of bunk beds when she stopped suddenly and looked around, wrinkling her nose. Something smelled….

“Aaargh! Lorda-mercy!” squealed Annie, who stood stock still with her broom in midair a few yards away from Jess. “A polecat’s shot his stink off in here!”

The smell was strong, almost debilitating. Jess’s eyes began to burn and it was hard to breathe.

There were other cries and curses flying around, as youngsters and volunteers alike dropped whatever they were doing and raced for the door. Jess was shoved against a bunk, and fell sideways on it, coughing and wiping her eyes.

The crawl space had apparently become the home of one or more skunks—angry, vengeance-seeking skunks.

Jess got to her feet and stumbled to the door, scrambling out with the rest of the victims.

Her eyes were watering like leaky hoses as she looked around. Some of the kids had taken off for the main house, running as if their clothes were on fire.

Well, it wasn’t as life-threatening as fire, but the experience was as horrible in its own way. The rest of the kids were standing around, some wailing, some choking from the stench they were giving off. Annie had to be forcibly restrained from peeling out of her putrid-smelling clothes right there on the lawn.

Jess wiped at her eyes, glaring at the main residence with complete and utter contempt.

“Come on,