Free Holes by Louis Sachar Page B

fifty-two,” said Zero.
    Stanley didn’t know what he was talking about.
    “Instead of twenty-six letters. There are really fifty-two.”
    Stanley looked at him, surprised. “I guess that’s right. How’d you figure that out?” he asked.
    Zero said nothing.
    “Did you add?”
    Zero said nothing.
    “Did you multiply?”
    “That’s just how many there are,” said Zero.
    Stanley raised and lowered one shoulder. He didn’t even know how Zero knew there were twenty-six in the first place. Did he count them as he recited them?
    He had Zero write a few more upper- and lowercase A’s, and then he moved on to a capital B. This was going to take a long time, he realized.
    “You can teach me ten letters a day,” suggested Zero. “Five capitals and five smalls. After five days I’ll know them all. Except on the last day I’ll have to do twelve. Six capitals and six smalls.”
    Again Stanley stared at him, amazed that he was able to figure all that out.
    Zero must have thought he was staring for a different reason, because he said, “I’ll dig part of your hole every day. I can dig for about an hour, then you can teach me for an hour. And since I’m a faster digger anyway, our holes will get done about the same time. I won’t have to wait for you.”
    “Okay,” Stanley agreed.
    As Zero was printing his B’s, Stanley asked him how he figured out it would take five days. “Did you multiply? Did you divide?”
    “That’s just what it is,” Zero said. “It’s good math,” said Stanley.
    “I’m not stupid,” Zero said. “I know everybody thinks I am. I just don’t like answering their questions.”
    Later that night, as he lay on his cot, Stanley reconsidered the deal he had made with Zero. Getting a break every day would be a relief, but he knew X-Ray wouldn’t like it. He wondered if there might be some way Zero would agree to dig part of X-Ray’s hole as well. But then again, why should he?
I’m the one teaching Zero. I need the break so I’ll have the energy to teach him. I’m the one who took the blame for the sunflower seeds. I’m the one who Mr. Sir is mad at
.
    He closed his eyes, and images from the Warden’s cabin floated inside his head: her red fingernails, Mr. Sir writhing on the floor, her flowered makeup kit.
    He opened his eyes.
    He suddenly realized where he’d seen the gold tube before.
    He’d seen it in his mother’s bathroom, and he’d seen it again in the Warden’s cabin. It was half of a lipstick container.
    K B?

    K B?
    He felt a jolt of astonishment.
    His mouth silently formed the name Kate Barlow, as he wondered if it really could have belonged to the kissin’ outlaw.

23
    One hundred and ten years ago, Green Lake was the largest lake in Texas. It was full of clear cool water, and it sparkled like a giant emerald in the sun. It was especially beautiful in the spring, when the peach trees, which lined the shore, bloomed with pink and rose-colored blossoms.
    There was always a town picnic on the Fourth of July. They’d play games, dance, sing, and swim in the lake to keep cool. Prizes were awarded for the best peach pie and peach jam.
    A special prize was given every year to Miss Katherine Barlow for her fabulous spiced peaches. No one else even tried to make spiced peaches, because they knew none could be as delicious as hers.
    Every summer Miss Katherine would pick bushels of peaches and preserve them in jars with cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and other spices which she kept secret. The jarredpeaches would last all winter. They probably would have lasted a lot longer than that, but they were always eaten by the end of winter.
    It was said that Green Lake was “heaven on earth” and that Miss Katherine’s spiced peaches were “food for the angels.”
    Katherine Barlow was the town’s only schoolteacher. She taught in an old one-room schoolhouse. It was old even then. The roof leaked. The windows wouldn’t open. The door hung crooked on its bent hinges.
    She was a