HolesLouis Sachar

PART ONEYOU ARE ENTERING CAMP GREEN LAKE1There is no lake at Camp Green Lake. There once was a very large lake here, thelargest lake in Texas. That was over a hundred years ago. Now it is just a dry, flatwasteland.There used to be a town of Green Lake as well. The town shriveled and dried upalong with the lake, and the people who lived there.During the summer the daytime temperature hovers around ninety-five degrees inthe shade— if you can find any shade. There's not much shade in a big dry lake.The only trees are two old oaks on the eastern edge of the "lake." A hammock isstretched between the two trees, and a log cabin stands behind that.The campers are forbidden to lie in the hammock. It belongs to the Warden. TheWarden owns the shade.Out on the lake, rattlesnakes and scorpions find shade under rocks and in the holesdug by the campers.Here's a good rule to remember about rattlesnakes and scorpions: If you don'tbother them, they won't bother you.Usually.Being bitten by a scorpion or even a rattlesnake is not the worst thing that canhappen to you. You won't die.Usually.Sometimes a camper will try to be bitten by a scorpion, or even a small rattlesnake.Then he will get to spend a day or two recovering in his tent, instead of having to dig ahole out on the lakeBut you don't want to be bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard. That's the worst thingthat can happen to you. You will die a slow and painful death.Always.If you get bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard, you might as well go into the shade ofthe oak trees and lie in the hammock.There is nothing anyone can do to you anymore.2The reader is probably asking: Why would anyone go to Camp Green Lake?Most campers weren't given a choice. Camp Green Lake is a camp for bad boys.If you take a bad boy and make him dig a hole every day in the hot sun, it will turnhim into a good boy.That was what some people thought.2

Stanley Yelnats was given a choice. The judge said, "You may go to jail, or youmay go to Camp Green Lake."Stanley was from a poor family. He had never been to camp before.3Stanley Yelnats was the only passenger on the bus, not counting the driver or theguard The guard sat next to the driver with his seat turned around facing Stanley A riflelay across his lapStanley was sitting about ten rows back, handcuffed to his armrest His backpack layon the seat next to him It contained his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a box of stationeryhis mother had given him He'd promised to write to her at least once a week.He looked out the window, although there wasn't much to see— mostly fields of hayand cotton. He was on a long bus ride to nowhere The bus wasn't air-conditioned, andthe hot, heavy air was almost as stifling as the handcuffs.Stanley and his parents had tried to pretend that he was just going away to camp fora while, just like rich kids do. When Stanley was younger he used to play with stuffedanimals, and pretend the animals were at camp. Camp Fun and Games he called it.Sometimes he'd have them play soccer with a marble. Other times they'd run anobstacle course, or go bungee jumping off a table, tied to broken rubber bands. NowStanley tried to pretend he was going to Camp Fun and Games Maybe he'd make somefriends, he thought. At least he'd get to swim in the lake.He didn't have any friends at home. He was overweight and the kids at his middleschool often teased him about his size. Even his teachers sometimes made cruelcomments without realizing it. On his last day of school, his math teacher, Mrs Bell,taught ratios. As an example, she chose the heaviest kid in the class and the lightest kidm the class, and had them weigh themselves. Stanley weighed three times as much asthe other boy Mrs. Bell wrote the ratio on the board, 3:1, unaware of how muchembarrassment she had caused both of them.Stanley was arrested later that day.He looked at the guard who sat slumped in his seat and wondered if he had fallenasleep. The guard was wearing sunglasses, so Stanley couldn't see his eyes.Stanley was not a bad kid. He was innocent of the crime for which he was convictedHe'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.It was all because of his dfather!He smiled. It was a family joke. Whenever anything went wrong, they alwaysblamed Stanley's dfather.Supposedly, he had a great-great-grandfather who had stolen a pig from aone-legged Gypsy, and she put a curse on him and all his descendants. Stanley and hisparents didn't believe in curses, of course, but whenever anything went wrong, it feltgood to be able to blame someoneThings went wrong a lot. They always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrongtime.3

He looked out the window at the vast emptiness. He watched the rise and fall of atelephone wire. In his mind he could hear his father's gruff voice softly singing to him"If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs,"The bark on the tree was just a little bit softer."While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,He cries to the moo— oo— oon,"If only, if only."It was a song his father used to sing to him. The melody was sweet and sad, butStanley's favorite part was when his father would howl the word "moon "The bus hit a small bump and the guard sat up, instantly alert.Stanley's father was an inventor. To be a successful inventor you need three things:intelligence, perseverance, and just a little bit of luck.Stanley's father was smart and had a lot of perseverance. Once he started a projecthe would work on it for years, often going days without sleep. He just never had anyluck.Every time an experiment failed, Stanley could hear him cursing nley's father was also named Stanley Yelnats. Stanley's father's full name wasStanley Yelnats III. Our Stanley is Stanley Yelnats IV.Everyone in his family had always liked the fact that "Stanley Yelnats" was spelledthe same frontward and backward. So they kept naming their sons Stanley. Stanley wasan only child, as was every other Stanley Yelnats before him.All of them had something else in common. Despite their awful luck, they alwaysremained hopeful. As Stanley's father liked to say, "I learn from failure."But perhaps that was part of the curse as well. If Stanley and his father weren'talways hopeful, then it wouldn't hurt so much every time their hopes were crushed."Not every Stanley Yelnats has been a failure," Stanley's mother often pointed out,whenever Stanley or his father became so discouraged that they actually started tobelieve in the curse. The first Stanley Yelnats, Stanley's great-grandfather, had made afortune m the stock market. "He couldn't have been too unlucky."At such times she neglected to mention the bad luck that befell the first StanleyYelnats. He lost his entire fortune when he was moving from New York to California.His stagecoach was robbed by the outlaw Kissin' Kate Barlow.If it weren't for that, Stanley's family would now be living in a mansion on a beachin California. Instead, they were crammed in a tiny apartment that smelled of burningrubber and foot odor.If only, if only . . .The apartment smelled the way it did because Stanley's father was trying to invent away to recycle old sneakers. "The first person who finds a use for old sneakers," he said,"will be a very rich man."It was this latest project that led to Stanley's arrest.The bus ride became increasingly bumpy because the road was no longer paved.4

Actually, Stanley had been impressed when he first found out that hisgreat-grandfather was robbed by Kissin' Kate Barlow. True, he would have preferredliving on the beach in California, but it was still kind of cool to have someone in yourfamily robbed by a famous outlaw.Kate Barlow didn't actually kiss Stanley's great-grandfather. That would have beenreally cool, but she only kissed the men she killed. Instead, she robbed him and left himstranded in the middle of the desert."He was lucky to have survived," Stanley's mother was quick to point out.The bus was slowing down. The guard grunted as he stretched his arms."Welcome to Camp Green Lake," said the driver.Stanley looked out the dirty window. He couldn't see a lake.And hardly anything was green.4Stanley felt somewhat dazed as the guard unlocked his handcuffs and led him offthe bus. He'd been on the bus for over eight hours."Be careful," the bus driver said as Stanley walked down the steps.Stanley wasn't sure if the bus driver meant for him to be careful going down thesteps, or if he was telling him to be careful at Camp Green Lake. "Thanks for the ride,"he said. His mouth was dry and his throat hurt. He stepped onto the hard, dry dirt. Therewas a band of sweat around his wrist where the handcuff had been.The land was barren and desolate. He could see a few rundown buildings and sometents. Farther away there was a cabin beneath two tall trees. Those two trees were theonly plant life he could see. There weren't even weeds.The guard led Stanley to a small building. A sign on front said, YOU AREENTERING CAMP GREEN LAKE JUVENILE CORRECTIONAL FACILITY. Nextto it was another sign which declared that it was a violation of the Texas Penal Code tobring guns, explosives, weapons, drugs, or alcohol onto the premises.As Stanley read the sign he couldn't help but think, Well, duh!The guard led Stanley into the building, where he felt the welcome relief ofair-conditioning.A man was sitting with his feet up on a desk. He turned his head when Stanley andthe guard entered, but otherwise didn't move. Even though he was inside, he woresunglasses and a cowboy hat. He also held a can of soda, and the sight of it madeStanley even more aware of his own thirst.He waited while the bus guard gave the man some papers to sign."That's a lot of sunflower seeds," the bus guard saidStanley noticed a burlap sack filled with sunflower seeds on the floor next to thedesk."I quit smoking last month," said the man in the cowboy hat. He had a tattoo of arattlesnake on his arm, and as he signed his name, the snake's rattle seemed to wiggle "Iused to smoke a pack a day. Now I eat a sack of these every week "5

The guard laughed.There must have been a small refrigerator behind his desk, because the man in thecowboy hat produced two more cans of soda. For a second Stanley hoped that onemight be for him, but the man gave one to the guard and said the other was for thedriver."Nine hours here, and now nine hours back," the guard grumbled. "What a day."Stanley thought about the long, miserable bus ride and felt a little sorry for theguard and the bus driver.The man in the cowboy hat spit sunflower seed shells into a wastepaper basket.Then he walked around the desk to Stanley. "My name is Mr. Sir," he said "Wheneveryou speak to me you must call me by my name, is that clear?"Stanley hesitated. "Uh, yes, Mr. Sir," he said, though he couldn't imagine that wasreally the man's name."You're not in the Girl Scouts anymore," Mr. Sir said.Stanley had to remove his clothes in front of Mr. Sir, who made sure he wasn'thiding anything. He was then given two sets of clothes and a towel. Each set consistedof a long-sleeve orange jumpsuit, an orange T-shirt, and yellow socks. Stanley wasn'tsure if the socks had been yellow originally.He was also given white sneakers, an orange cap, and a canteen made of heavyplastic, which unfortunately was empty. The cap had a piece of cloth sewn on the backof it, for neck protection.Stanley got dressed. The clothes smelled like soap.Mr. Sir told him he should wear one set to work in and one set for relaxation.Laundry was done every three days. On that day his work clothes would be washed.Then the other set would become his work clothes, and he would get clean clothes towear while resting."You are to dig one hole each day, including Saturdays and Sundays. Each holemust be five feet deep, and five feet across in every direction. Your shovel is yourmeasuring stick. Breakfast is served at 4:30."Stanley must have looked surprised, because Mr. Sir went on to explain that theystarted early to avoid the hottest part of the day. "No one is going to baby-sit you," headded. "The longer it takes you to dig, the longer you will be out in the sun. If you digup anything interesting, you are to report it to me or any other counselor. When youfinish, the rest of the day is yours."Stanley nodded to show he understood."This isn't a Girl Scout camp," said Mr. Sir.He checked Stanley's backpack and allowed him to keep it. Then he led Stanleyoutside into the blazing heat."Take a good look around you," Mr. Sir said. "What do you see?"Stanley looked out across the vast wasteland. The air seemed thick with heat anddirt. "Not much," he said, then hastily added, "Mr. Sir."Mr. Sir laughed. "You see any guard towers?""No."6

"How about an electric fence?""No, Mr. Sir.""There's no fence at all, is there?""No, Mr. Sir.""You want to run away?" Mr. Sir asked him.Stanley looked back at him, unsure what he meant."If you want to run away, go ahead, start running. I'm not going to stop you."Stanley didn't know what kind of game Mr. Sir was playing."I see you're looking at my gun. Don't worry. I'm not going to shoot you." He tappedhis holster. "This is for yellow-spotted lizards. I wouldn't waste a bullet on you.""I'm not going to run away," Stanley said."Good thinking," said Mr. Sir. "Nobody runs away from here. We don't need afence. Know why? Because we've got the only water for a hundred miles. You want torun away? You'll be buzzard food in three days."Stanley could see some kids dressed in orange and carrying shovels draggingthemselves toward the tents."You thirsty?" asked Mr. Sir."Yes, Mr. Sir," Stanley said gratefully."Well, you better get used to it. You're going to be thirsty for the next eighteenmonths."5There were six large gray tents, and each one had a black letter on it: A, B, C, D, E,or F. The first five tents were for the campers. The counselors slept in F.Stanley was assigned to D tent. Mr. Pendanski was his counselor."My name is easy to remember," said Mr. Pendanski as he shook hands withStanley just outside the tent. "Three easy words: pen, dance, key."Mr. Sir returned to the office.Mr. Pendanski was younger than Mr. Sir, and not nearly as scary looking. The topof his head was shaved so close it was almost bald, but his face was covered in a thickcurly black beard. His nose was badly sunburned."Mr. Sir isn't really so bad," said Mr. Pendanski. "He's just been in a bad mood eversince he quit smoking. The person you've got to worry about is the Warden. There'sreally only one rule at Camp Green Lake: Don't upset the Warden."Stanley nodded, as if he understood."I want you to know, Stanley, that I respect you," Mr. Pendanski said. "I understandyou've made some bad mistakes in your life. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Buteveryone makes mistakes. You may have done some bad things, but that doesn't meanyou're a bad kid."Stanley nodded. It seemed pointless to try and tell his counselor that he wasinnocent. He figured that everyone probably said that. He didn't want Mr.Pen-dance-key to think he had a bad attitude.7

"I'm going to help you turn your life around," said his counselor. "But you're goingto have to help, too. Can I count on your help?""Yes, sir," Stanley said.Mr. Pendanski said, "Good," and patted Stanley on the back.Two boys, each carrying a shovel, were coming across the compound. Mr.Pendanski called to them. "Rex! Alan! I want you to come say hello to Stanley. He's thenewest member of our team."The boys glanced wearily at Stanley.They were dripping with sweat, and their faces were so dirty that it took Stanley amoment to notice that one kid was white and the other black."What happened to Barf Bag?" asked the black kid."Lewis is still in the hospital," said Mr. Pendanski. "He won't be returning." He toldthe boys to come shake Stanley's hand and introduce themselves, "like gentlemen.""Hi," the white kid grunted."That's Alan," said Mr. Pendanski."My name's not Alan," the boy said. "It's Squid. And that's X-Ray.""Hey," said X-Ray. He smiled and shook Stanley's hand. He wore glasses, but theywere so dirty that Stanley wondered how he could see out of them.Mr. Pendanski told Alan to go to the Rec Hall and bring the other boys to meetStanley. Then he led him inside the tent.There were seven cots, each one less than two feet from the one next to it."Which was Lewis's cot?" Mr. Pendanski asked."Barf Bag slept here," said X-Ray, kicking at one of the beds."All right, Stanley, that'll be yours," said Mr. Pendanski.Stanley looked at the cot and nodded. He wasn't particularly thrilled about sleepingin the same cot that had been used by somebody named Barf Bag.Seven crates were stacked in two piles at one side of the tent. The open end of thecrates faced outward. Stanley put his backpack, change of clothes, and towel in whatused to be Barf Bag's crate. It was at the bottom of the stack that had three in it.Squid returned with four other boys. The first three were introduced by Mr.Pendanski as Jose, Theodore, and Ricky. They called themselves Magnet, Armpit, andZigzag."They all have nicknames," explained Mr. Pendanski. "However, I prefer to use thenames their parents gave them— the names that society will recognize them by whenthey return to become useful and hardworking members of society.""It ain't just a nickname," X-Ray told Mr. Pendanski. He tapped the rim of hisglasses. "I can see inside you, Mom. You've got a big fat heart."The last boy either didn't have a real name or else he didn't have a nickname. BothMr. Pendanski and X-Ray called him Zero."You know why his name's Zero?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "Because there's nothinginside his head." He smiled and playfully shook Zero's shoulder.Zero said nothing."And that's Mom!" a boy said.8

Mr. Pendanski smiled at him. "If it makes you feel better to call me Mom, Theodore,go ahead and call me Mom." He turned to Stanley. "If you have questions, Theodorewill help you. You got that, Theodore. I'm depending on you."Theodore spit a thin line of saliva between his teeth, causing some of the other boysto complain about the need to keep their "home" sanitary."You were all new here once," said Mr. Pendanski, "and you all know what it feelslike. I'm counting on every one of you to help Stanley."Stanley looked at the ground.Mr. Pendanski left the tent, and soon the other boys began to file out as well, takingtheir towels and change of clothes with them. Stanley was relieved to be left alone, buthe was so thirsty he felt as if he would die if he didn't get something to drink soon."Hey, uh, Theodore," he said, going after him. "Do you know where I can fill mycanteen?"Theodore whirled and grabbed Stanley by his collar. "My name's not Thee-o-dore,"he said. "It's Armpit." He threw Stanley to the ground.Stanley stared up at him, terrified."There's a water spigot on the wall of the shower stall.""Thanks . . . Armpit," said Stanley.As he watched the boy turn and walk away, he couldn't for the life of him figure outwhy anyone would want to be called Armpit.In a way, it made him feel a little better about having to sleep in a cot that had beenused by somebody named Barf Bag. Maybe it was a term of respect.6Stanley took a shower— if you could call it that, ate dinner— if you could call it that,and went to bed— if you could call his smelly and scratchy cot a bed.Because of the scarcity of water, each camper was only allowed a four-minuteshower. It took Stanley nearly that long to get used to the cold water. There was noknob for hot water. He kept stepping into, then jumping back from, the spray, until thewater shut off automatically. He never managed to use his bar of soap, which was justas well, because he wouldn't have had time to rinse off the suds.Dinner was some kind of stewed meat and vegetables. The meat was brown and thevegetables had once been green. Everything tasted pretty much the same. He ate it all,and used his slice of white bread to mop up the juice. Stanley had never been one toleave food on his plate, no matter how it tasted."What'd you do?" one of the campers asked him.At first Stanley didn't know what he meant."They sent you here for a reason.""Oh," he realized. "I stole a pair of sneakers."The other boys thought that was funny. Stanley wasn't sure why. Maybe becausetheir crimes were a lot worse than stealing shoes."From a store, or-were they on someone's feet?" asked Squid.9

"Uh, neither," Stanley answered. "They belonged to Clyde Livingston."Nobody believed him."Sweet Feet?" said X-Ray. "Yeah, right!""No way," said Squid.Now, as Stanley lay on his cot, he thought it was kind of funny in a way. Nobodyhad believed him when he said he was innocent. Now, when he said he stole them,nobody believed him either.Clyde "Sweet Feet" Livingston was a famous baseball player. He'd led theAmerican League in stolen bases over the last three years. He was also the only playerin history to ever hit four triples in one game.Stanley had a poster of him hanging on the wall of his bedroom. He used to have theposter anyway. He didn't know where it was now. It had been taken by the police andwas used as evidence of his guilt in the courtroom.Clyde Livingston also came to court. In spite of everything, when Stanley found outthat Sweet Feet was going to be there, he was actually excited about the prospect ofmeeting his hero.Clyde Livingston testified that they were his sneakers and that he had donated themto help raise money for the homeless shelter. He said he couldn't imagine what kind ofhorrible person would steal from homeless children.That was the worst part for Stanley. His hero thought he was a no-good-dirty-rottenthief.As Stanley tried to turn over on his cot, he was afraid it was going to collapse underall his weight. He barely fit in it. When he finally managed to roll over on his stomach,the smell was so bad that he had to turn over again and try sleeping on his back. The cotsmelled like sour milk.Though it was night, the air was still very warm. Armpit was snoring two cots away.Back at school, a bully named Derrick Dunne used to torment Stanley. The teachersnever took Stanley's complaints seriously, because Derrick was so much smaller thanStanley. Some teachers even seemed to find it amusing that a little kid like Derrickcould pick on someone as big as Stanley.On the day Stanley was arrested, Derrick had taken Stanley's notebook and, after along game of come-and-get-it, finally dropped it in the toilet in the boys' restroom. Bythe time Stanley retrieved it, he had missed his bus and had to walk home.It was while he was walking home, carrying his wet notebook, with the prospect ofhaving to copy the ruined pages, that the sneakers fell from the sky."I was walking home and the sneakers fell from the sky," he had told the judge."One hit me on the head."It had hurt, too.They hadn't exactly fallen from the sky. He had just walked out from under afreeway overpass when the shoe hit him on the head.10

Stanley took it as some kind of sign. His father had been trying to figure out a wayto recycle old sneakers, and suddenly a pair of sneakers fell on top of him, seeminglyout of nowhere, like a gift from God.Naturally, he had no way of knowing they belonged to Clyde Livingston. In fact,the shoes were anything but sweet. Whoever had worn them had had a bad case of footodor.Stanley couldn't help but think that there was something special about the shoes,that they would somehow provide the key to his father's invention. It was too much of acoincidence to be a mere accident. Stanley had felt like he was holding destiny's shoes.He ran. Thinking back now, he wasn't sure why he ran. Maybe he was in a hurry tobring the shoes to his father, or maybe he was trying to run away from his miserable andhumiliating day at school.A patrol car pulled alongside him. A policeman asked him why he was running.Then he took the shoes and made a call on his radio. Shortly thereafter, Stanley wasarrested.It turned out the sneakers had been stolen from a display at the homeless shelter.That evening rich people were going to come to the shelter and pay a hundred dollars toeat the food that the poor people ate every day for free. Clyde Livingston, who had oncelived at the shelter when he was younger, was going to speak and sign autographs. Hisshoes would be auctioned, and it was expected that they would sell for over fivethousand dollars. All the money would go to help the homeless.Because of the baseball schedule, Stanley's trial was delayed several months. Hisparents couldn't afford a lawyer. "You don't need a lawyer," his mother had said. "Justtell the truth."Stanley told the truth, but perhaps it would have been better if he had lied a little. Hecould have said he found the shoes in the street. No one believed they fell from the sky.It wasn't destiny, he realized. It was randfather!The judge called Stanley's crime despicable. "The shoes were valued at over fivethousand dollars. It was money that would provide food and shelter for the homeless.And you stole that from them, just so you could have a souvenir."The judge said that there was an opening at Camp Green Lake, and he suggestedthat the discipline of the camp might improve Stanley's character. It was either that orjail. Stanley's parents asked if they could have some time to find out more about CampGreen Lake, but the judge advised them to make a quick decision. "Vacancies don't lastlong at Camp Green Lake."7The shovel felt heavy in Stanley's soft, fleshy hands. He tried to jam it into the earth,but the blade banged against the ground and bounced off without making a dent. Thevibrations ran up the shaft of the shovel and into Stanley's wrists, making his bonesrattle.11

It was still dark. The only light came from the moon and the stars, more stars thanStanley had ever seen before. It seemed he had only just gotten to sleep when Mr.Pendanski came in and woke everyone up.Using all his might, he brought the shovel back down onto the dry lake bed. Theforce stung his hands but made no impression on the earth. He wondered if he had adefective shovel. He glanced at Zero, about fifteen feet away, who scooped out ashovelful of dirt and dumped it on a pile that was already almost a foot tall.For breakfast they'd been served some kind of lukewarm cereal. The best part wasthe orange juice. They each got a pint carton. The cereal actually didn't taste too bad,but it had smelled just like his cot.Then they filled their canteens, got their shovels, and were marched out across thelake. Each group was assigned a different area.The shovels were kept in a shed near the showers. They all looked the same toStanley, although X-Ray had his own special shovel, which no one else was allowed touse. X-Ray claimed it was shorter than the others, but if it was, it was only by a fractionof an inch.The shovels were five feet long, from the tip of the steel blade to the end of thewooden shaft. Stanley's hole would have to be as deep as his shovel, and he'd have to beable to lay the shovel flat across the bottom in any direction. That was why X-Raywanted the shortest shovel.The lake was so full of holes and mounds that it reminded Stanley of pictures he'dseen of the moon. "If you find anything interesting or unusual," Mr. Pendanski had toldhim, "you should report it either to me or Mr. Sir when we come around with the watertruck. If the Warden likes what you found, you'll get the rest of the day off.""What are we supposed to be looking for?" Stanley asked him."You're not looking for anything. You're digging to build character. It's just if youfind anything, the Warden would like to know about it."He glanced helplessly at his shovel. It wasn't defective. He was defective.He noticed a thin crack in the ground. He placed the point of his shovel on top of it,then jumped on the back of the blade with both feet.The shovel sank a few inches into the packed earth.He smiled. For once in his life it paid to be overweight.He leaned on the shaft and pried up his first shovelful of dirt, then dumped it off tothe side.Only ten million more to go, he thought, then placed the shovel back in the crackand jumped on it again.He unearthed several shovelfuls of dirt in this manner, before it occurred to him thathe was dumping his dirt within the perimeter of his hole. He laid his shovel flat on theground and marked where the edges of his hole would be. Five feet was awfully wide.He moved the dirt he'd already dug up out past his mark. He took a drink from hiscanteen. Five feet would be awfully deep, too.The digging got easier after a while. The ground was hardest at the surface, wherethe sun had baked a crust about eight inches deep. Beneath that, the earth was looser.12

But by the time Stanley broke past the crust, a blister had formed in the middle of hisright thumb, and it hurt to hold the shovel.Stanley's great-great-grandfather was named Elya Yelnats. He was born in Latvia.When he was fifteen years old he fell in love with Myra Menke.(He didn't know he was Stanley's great-great-grandfather.)Myra Menke was fourteen. She would turn fifteen in two months, at which time herfather had decided she should be married.Elya went to her father to ask for her hand, but so did Igor Barkov, the pig farmer.Igor was fifty-seven years old. He had a red nose and fat puffy cheeks."I will trade you my fattest pig for your daughter," Igor offered."And what have you got?" Myra's father asked Elya."A heart full of love," said Elya."I'd rather have a fat pig," said Myra's father.Desperate, Elya went to see Madame Zeroni, an old Egyptian woman who lived onthe edge of town. He had become friends with her, though she was quite a bit older thanhim. She was even older than Igor Barkov.The other boys of his village liked to mud wrestle. Elya preferred visiting MadameZeroni and listening to her

He looked out the window, although there wasn't much to see — mostly fields of hay and cotton. He was on a long bus ride to nowhere The bus wasn't air-conditioned, and the hot, heavy air was almost as stifling as the handcuffs. Stanley and his parents had tried to pretend that he was just going away to camp for a while, just like rich kids do.File Size: 339KBPage Count: 102Explore furtherHoles by Louis Sachar.pdf - Google[PDF] Holes Book by Louis Sachar Free Download (233 pages)blindhypnosis.comHoles Excerpt: Read free excerpt of Holes by Louis Sacharwww.bookbrowse.comHoles Questions and Answers - eNotes.comwww.enotes.comHoles Study Guide Questions - Alamance-Burlington School to you b