The Fifth-Grade Nature Retreat

Part 7: August
You’re gonna reach the sky
Fly ... Beautiful child
—Eurythmics, “Beautiful Child”
The Fifth-Grade Nature Retreat
Every year in the spring, the fifth graders of Beecher Prep go away for three days and two nights to a place called the
Broarwood Nature Reserve in Pennsylvania. It’s a four-hour bus drive away. The kids sleep in cabins with bunk beds.
There are campfires and s’mores and long walks through the woods. The teachers have been prepping us about this all year
long, so all the kids in the grade are excited about it—except for me. And it’s not even that I’m not excited, because I kind
of am—it’s just I’ve never slept away from home before and I’m kind ofnervous.
Most kids have had sleepovers by the time they’re my age. A lot of kids have gone to sleepaway camps, or stayed with their
grandparents or whatever. Not me. Not unless you include hospital stays, but even then Mom or Dad always stayed with me
overnight. But I never slept over Tata and Poppa’s house, or Aunt Kate and Uncle Po’s house. When I was really little, that was
mainly because there were too many medical issues, like my trache tube needing to be cleared every hour, or reinserting my
feeding tube if it got detached. But when I got bigger, I just never felt like sleeping anywhere else. There was one time when I
half slept over Christopher’s house. We were about eight, and we were still best friends. Our family had gone for a visit to his
house, and me and Christopher were having such a great time playing Legos Star Wars that I didn’t want to leave when it was
time to go. We were like, “Please, please, please can we have a sleepover?” So our parents said yes, and Mom and Dad and Via
drove home. And me and Christopher stayed up till midnight playing, until Lisa, his mom, said: “Okay, guys, time to go to bed.”
Well, that’s when I kind of panicked a bit. Lisa tried to help me go to sleep, but I just started crying that I wanted to go home. So
at one a.m. Lisa called Mom and Dad, and Dad drove all the way back out to Bridgeport to pick me up. We didn’t get home until
three a.m. So my one and only sleepover, up until now, was pretty much of a disaster, which is why I’m a little nervous about the
nature retreat.
On the other hand, I’m really excited.
Known For
I asked Mom to buy me a new rolling duffel bag because my old one had Star Wars stuff on it, and there was no way I was
going to take that to the fifth-grade nature retreat. As much as I love Star Wars, I don’t want that to be what I’m known for.
Everyone’s known for something in middle school. Like Reid is known for really being into marine life and the oceans and
things like that. And Amos is known for being a really good baseball player. And Charlotte is known for having been in a
TV commercial when she was six. And Ximena’s known for being really smart.
My point is that in middle school you kind of get known for what you’re into, and you have to be careful about stuff
like that. Like Max G and Max W will never live down their Dungeons & Dragons obsession.
So I was actually trying to ease out of the whole Star Wars thing a bit. I mean, it’ll always be special to me, like it is with
the doctor who put in my hearing aids. It’s just not the thing I wanted to be known for in middle school. I’m not sure what I
want to be known for, but it’s not that.

That’s not exactly true: I do know what I’m really known for1. But there’s nothing I can do about that. A Star Wars
duffel bag I could do something about.
Packing
Mom helped me pack the night before the big trip. We put all the clothes I was taking on my bed, and she folded
everything neatly and put it inside the bag while I watched. It was a plain blue rolling duffel, by the way: no logos or
artwork.
“What if I can’t sleep at night?” I asked.
“Take a book with you. Then if you can’t sleep, you can pull out your flashlight, and read for a bit until you get
sleepy,” she answered.
I nodded. “What if I have a nightmare?”
“Your teachers will be there, sweetie,” she said. “And Jack. And your friends.”
“I can bring Baboo,” I said. That was my favorite stuffed animal when I was little. A small black bear with a soft black
nose.
“You don’t really sleep with him anymore, do you?” said Mom.
“No, but I keep him in my closet in case I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep,” I said. “I
could hide him in my bag. No one would know.”
“Then let’s do that.” Mom nodded, getting Baboo from inside my closet.
“I wish they allowed cell phones,” I said.
“I know, me too!” she said. “Though I know you’re going to have a great time, Auggie. You sure you want me to pack
Baboo?”
“Yeah, but way down where no one can see him,” I said.
She stuck Baboo deep inside the bag and then stuffed the last of my T-shirts on top of him. “So many clothes for just
two days!”
“Three days and two nights,” I corrected her.
“Yep.” She nodded, smiling. “Three days and two nights.” She zipped up the duffel bag and picked it up. “Not too
heavy. Try it.”
I picked up the bag. “Fine.” I shrugged.
1 This literary device talks about structure.

She sat on the bed. “Hey, what happened to your Empire Strikes Back poster?” “Oh, I took that down ages ago,” I
answered.
She shook her head. “Huh, I didn’t notice that before.”
“I’m trying to, you know, change my image a bit,” I explained.
“Okay.” She smiled, nodding like she understood. “Anyway, honey, you have to promise me you won’t forget to put
on the bug spray, okay? On the legs, especially when you’re hiking through the woods. It’s right here in the front
compartment.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And put on your sunscreen,” she said. “You do not want to get a sunburn. And don’t, I repeat, do not forget to take
your hearing aids off if you go swimming.”
“Would I get electrocuted2?”
“No, but you’d be in real hot water with Daddy because those things cost a fortune!” she laughed. “I put the rain
poncho in the front compartment, too. Same thing goes if it rains, Auggie, okay? Make sure you cover the hearing aids
with the hood.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” I said, saluting.
She smiled and pulled me over.
“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown up this year, Auggie,” she said softly, putting her hands on the sides of my
face.
“Do I look taller?”
“Definitely.” She nodded.
“I’m still the shortest one in my grade.”
“I’m not really even talking about your height,” she said.
“Suppose I hate it there?”
“You’re going to have a great time, Auggie.”
I nodded. She got up and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Okay, so I say we get to bed now.”
“It’s only nine o’clock, Mom!”
“Your bus leaves at six a.m. tomorrow. You don’t want to be late. Come on. Chop chop. Your teeth are brushed?”
2 Figurative language

I nodded and climbed into bed. She started to lie down next to me.
“You don’t need to put me to bed tonight, Mom,” I said. “I’ll read on my own till I get sleepy.” “Really?” She nodded,
impressed. She squeezed my hand and gave it a kiss. “Okay then,
goodnight, love. Have sweet dreams.”
“You too.”
She turned on the little reading light beside the bed.
“I’ll write you letters,” I said as she was leaving. “Even though I’ll probably be home before you guys even get them.”
“Then we can read them together,” she said, and threw me a kiss.
When she left my room, I took my copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe off the night table and started
reading until I fell asleep.
... though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes
back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness
before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation.3
Daybreak
The next day I woke up really early. It was still dark inside my room and even darker outside, though I knew it would be
morning soon. I turned over on my side but didn’t feel at all sleepy. That’s when I saw Daisy sitting near my bed. I mean, I
knew it wasn’t Daisy, but for a second I saw a shadow that looked just like her. I didn’t think it was a dream then, but now,
looking back, I know it must have been. It didn’t make me sad to see her at all: it just filled me up with nice feelings inside.
She was gone after a second, and I couldn’t see her again in the darkness.
The room slowly started lightening. I reached for my hearing aid headband and put it on, and now the world was really
awake4. I could hear the garbage trucks clunking down the street and the birds in our backyard. And down the hallway
I heard Mom’s alarm beeping. Daisy’s ghost made me feel super strong inside5, knowing wherever I am, she’d be
there with me.
I got up out of bed and went to my desk and wrote a little note to Mom. Then I went into the living room, where my
packed bag was by the door. I opened it up and fished inside until I found what I was looking for.
I took Baboo back to my room, and I laid him in my bed and taped the little note to Mom on his chest. And then I covered
him with my blanket so Mom would find him later. The note read:
Dear Mom, I won’t need Baboo, but if you miss me, you can cuddle with him yourself. XO Auggie
Day One
The bus ride went really fast. I sat by the window and Jack was next to me in the aisle seat. Summer and Maya were in
front of us. Everyone was in a good mood. Kind of loud, laughing a lot. I noticed right away that Julian wasn’t on our
3 Metaphor
4 personification
5 Hyperbole

bus, even though Henry and Miles were. I figured he must be on the other bus, but then I overheard Miles tell Amos
that Julian ditched the grade trip because he thought the whole nature-retreat thing was, quote unquote, dorky. I got
totally pumped because dealing with Julian for three days in a row—and two nights—was a major reason that I was
nervous about this whole trip. So now without him there, I could really just relax and not worry about anything.
We got to the nature reserve at around noon. The first thing we did was put our stuff down in the cabins. There were
three bunk beds to every room, so me and Jack did rock, paper, scissors for the top bunk and I won. Woo-hoo. And the
other guys in the room were Reid and Tristan, and Pablo and Nino.
After we had lunch in the main cabin, we all went on a two-hour guided nature hike through the woods. But these
were not woods like the kind they have in Central Park: these were real woods. Giant trees that almost totally blocked
out the sunlight. Tangles of leaves and fallen tree trunks. Howls and chirps and really loud bird calls. There was a
slight fog, too, like a pale blue smoke all around us. So cool. The nature guide pointed everything out to us: the
different types of trees we were passing, the insects inside the dead logs on the trail, the signs of deer and bears in the
woods, what types of birds were whistling and where to look for them. I realized that my Lobot hearing aids actually
made me hear better than most people, because I was usually the first person to hear a new bird call.
It started to rain as we headed back to camp. I pulled on my rain poncho and pulled the hood up so my hearing aids wouldn’t get
wet, but my jeans and shoes got soaked by the time we reached our cabins. Everyone got soaked. It was fun, though. We had a
wet-sock fight in the cabin.
Since it rained for the rest of the day, we spent most of the afternoon goofing off in the rec room . They had a Ping-Pong table and
old-style arcade games like Pac-Man and Missile Command that we played until dinnertime. Luckily, by then it had stopped
raining, so we got to have a real campfire cookout. The log benches around the campfire were still a little damp, but we threw our
jackets over them and hung out by the fire, toasting s’mores and eating the best roasted hot dogs I have ever, ever tasted. Mom
was right about the mosquitoes: there were tons of them. But luckily I had spritzed myself before I left the cabin, and I wasn’t
eaten alive like some of the other kids were.
I loved hanging out by the campfire after dark.I loved the way bits of fire dust would float up and disappear into the night air.
And how the fire lit up people’s faces. I loved the sound the fire made, too. And how the woods were so dark 6 that you couldn’t
see anything around you, and you’d look up and see a billion stars in the sky. The sky doesn’t look like that in North River
Heights. I’ve seen it look like that in Montauk, though: like someone sprinkled salt on a shiny black table.7
I was so tired when I got back to the cabin that I didn’t need to pull out the book to read. I fell asleep almost as fast as my head
hit the pillow. And maybe I dreamed about the stars, I don’tknow.
TheFairgrounds
The next day was just as great as the first day8. We went horseback riding in the morning, and in the afternoon we
rappelled up some ginormous trees with the help of the nature guides. By the time we got back to the cabins for
dinner, we were all really tired again. After dinner they told us we had an hour to rest, and then we were going to take
a fifteen-minute bus ride to the fairgrounds for an outdoor movie night.
6 Personification, metaphor
7 simili
8 Simili

I hadn’t had the chance to write a letter to Mom and Dad and Via yet, so I wrote one telling them all about the stuff we did
that day and the day before. I pictured myself reading it to them out loud when I got back, since there was just no way the
letter would get home before I did.
When we got to the fairgrounds, the sun was just starting to set. It was about seven-thirty. The shadows were really
long on the grass, and the clouds were pink and orange. It looked like someone had taken sidewalk chalk and smudged
the colors across the sky with their fingers.9 It’s not that I haven’t seen nice sunsets before in the city, because I have
—slivers of sunsets between buildings—but I wasn’t used to seeing so much sky in every direction. Out here in the
fairgrounds, I could understand why ancient people used to think the world was flat and the sky was a dome that
closed in on top of it. That’s what it looked like from the fairgrounds, in the middle of this huge open field.10
Because we were the first school to arrive, we got to run around the field all we wanted until the teachers told us it was time to
lay out our sleeping bags on the ground and get good viewing seats. We unzipped our bags and laid them down like picnic
blankets on the grass in front of the giant movie screen in the middle of the field. Then we went to the row of food trucks parked
at the edge of the field to load up on snacks and sodas and stuff like that. There were concession stands there, too, like at a
farmers’ market, selling roasted peanuts and cotton candy. And up a little farther was a short row of carnival-type stalls, the kind
where you can win a stuffed animal if you throw a baseball into a basket. Jack and I both tried—and failed—to win anything, but
weheardAmoswonayellowhippoandgaveittoXimena.Thatwasthebiggossipthatwentaround:thejockandthebrainiac.
From the food trucks, you could see the cornstalks in back of the movie screen. They covered about a third of the entire
field. The rest of the field was completely surrounded by woods. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the tall trees at the
entrance to the woods looked dark blue.
By the time the other school buses pulled into the parking lots, we were back in our spots on the sleeping bags, right
smack in front of the screen: the best seats in the whole field. Everyone was passing around snacks and having a great
time. Me and Jack and Summer and Reid and Maya played Pictionary. We could hear the sounds of the other schools
arriving, the loud laughing and talking of kids coming out on the field on both sides of us, but we couldn’t really see
them. Though the sky was still light, the sun had gone down completely, and everything on the ground had turned
deep purple. The clouds were shadows now. We had trouble even seeing the Pictionary cards in front of us.
Just then, without any announcement, all the lights at the ends of the field went on at once11. They were like big bright stadium
lights. I thought of that scene in Close Encounters when the alien ship lands and they’re playing that music: duh-dah-doo-da-
dunnn. Everyone in the field started
applauding and cheering like something great had just happened.
Be Kind to Nature
An announcement came over the huge speakers next to the stadium lights:
“Welcome, everyone. Welcome to the twenty-third annual Big Movie Night at the Broarwood Nature Reserve. Welcome,
teachers and students from ... MS 342: the William Heath School....” A big cheer went up12 on the left side of the field.
“Welcome, teachers and students from Glover Academy....” Another cheer went up13, this time from the right side of the
field. “And welcome, teachers and students from ... the Beecher Prep School!” Our whole group cheered as loudly as we
could. “We’re thrilled to have you as our guests here tonight, and thrilled that the weather is cooperating14—in fact, can you
believe what a beautiful night this is?” Again, everyone whooped and hollered. “So as we prepare the movie, we do ask that
you take a few moments to listen to this important announcement. The Broarwood Nature Reserve, as you know, is
9 simili
10 Simili, rhetoric
11 personification
12 Personification
13 personification
14 Personification

dedicated to preserving our natural resources and the environment. We ask that you leave no litter behind. Clean up after

yourselves.Be kind to nature and it will be kind to you15. We ask that you keep that in mind as you walk around the
grounds. Do not venture beyond the orange cones at the edges of the fairgrounds. Do not go into the cornfields or the
woods. Please keep the free roaming to a minimum. Even if you don’t feel like watching the movie, your fellow students
may feel otherwise, so please be courteous: no talking, no playing music, no running around. The restrooms are located on
the other side of the concession stands. After the movie is over, it will be quite dark, so we ask that all of you stay with your
schools as you make your way back to your buses. Teachers, there’s usually at least one lost party on Big Movie Nights at
Broarwood: don’t let it happen to you! Tonight’s movie presentation will be ... The Sound of Music!”
I immediately started clapping, even though I’d seen it a few times before, because it was Via’s favorite movie of all
time. But I was surprised that a whole bunch of kids (not from Beecher) booed and hissed and laughed. Someone from
the right side of the field even threw a soda can at the screen, which seemed to surprise Mr. Tushman. I saw him stand
up and look in the direction of the can thrower, though I knew he couldn’t see anything in the dark.
The movie started playing right away. The stadium lights dimmed. Maria the nun was standing at the top of the
mountain twirling around and around. It had gotten chilly all of a sudden, so I put on my yellow Montauk hoodie and
adjusted the volume on my hearing aids and leaned against my backpack and started watching.
The hills are alive
...16
The Woods Are Alive
Somewhere around the boring part where the guy named Rolf and the oldest daughter are singing You are sixteen,
going on seventeen, Jack nudged me.
“Dude, I’ve got to pee,” he said.
We both got up and kind of hopscotched over the kids who were sitting or lying down on the sleeping bags. Summer
waved as we passed and I waved back.
There were lots of kids from the other schools walking around by the food trucks, playing the carnival games, or just
hanging out.
Of course, there was a huge line for the toilets.
“Forget this, I’ll just find a tree,” said Jack.
“That’s gross, Jack. Let’s just wait,” I answered.
But he headed off to the row of trees at the edge of the field, which was past the orange cones that we were specifically told not
to go past. And of course I followed him. And of course we didn’t have our flashlights because we forgot to bring them. It was so
dark now we literally couldn’t see ten steps ahead of us as we walked toward the woods. Luckily, the movie gave off some light,
so when we saw a flashlight coming toward us out of the woods, we knew immediately that it was Henry, Miles, and Amos. I
guess they hadn’t wanted to wait on line to use the toilets,either.
Miles and Henry were still not talking to Jack, but Amos had let go of the war a while ago. And he nodded hello to us
as they passed by.
15 Personification
16 Personification