Stanley bit into an onion. It didn't burn his eyes or nose, and, in fact, he no longer noticed a particularly strong taste.

They were able to see out in all directions. There was no place to go. The mountain was surrounded by desert.

"You think?"

Zero stared at Big Thumb. "It must have a hole in it," he said, "filled with water."

He remembered when he had first carried Zero up the hill, how the air had smelled bitter. It was the smell of thousands of onions, growing and rotting and sprouting.

"Where else could the water be coming from?" Zero asked. "Water doesn't run uphill."

He was still the best hole digger around.

They had been completely around Big Thumb. It was like a giant sundial. They followed the shade.

"That's the last hole I will ever dig," he declared, throwing down the shovel.

Stanley smiled. He wished it were true, but he knew they had no choice but to eventually return to Camp Green Lake. They couldn't live on onions forever.

Zero became strong enough to help dig the hole. When he finished, it was over six feet deep. He filled the bottom with rocks to help separate the water from the dirt.

He liked himself now.

"I'd say about a week," said Stanley. "And we probably each eat about twenty onions a day, so that's…"

He wondered if he was delirious.

It occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he felt happiness. It wasn't just being sent to Camp Green Lake that had made his life miserable. Before that he'd been unhappy at school, where he had no friends, and bullies like Derrick Dunne picked on him. No one liked him, and the truth was, he didn't especially like himself.

"Two hundred and eighty onions," said Zero.

Two nights later, Stanley lay awake staring up at the star-filled sky. He was too happy to fall asleep.

Now he didn't smell a thing.

He knew he had no reason to be happy. He had heard or read somewhere that right before a person freezes to death, he suddenly feels nice and warm. He wondered if perhaps he was experiencing something like that.

"How many onions do you think we've eaten?" he asked.

Stanley smiled. "I bet we really stink."

Zero shrugged. "I don't even know how long we've been here."

Stanley considered placing it back in front of Zero's nose, but it wouldn't be the same.

He remembered what Zero had said a few days before. If Zero had just kept those shoes, then neither of them would be here right now.

It seemed like Zero had lived at Camp Green Lake forever, but as Stanley thought about it now, he realized that Zero must have gotten there no more than a month or two before him. Zero was actually arrested a day later. But Stanley's trial kept getting delayed because of baseball.

He looked over at Zero sleeping near him. Zero's face was lit in the starlight, and there was a flower petal in front of his nose that moved back and forth as he breathed. It reminded Stanley of something out of a cartoon. Zero breathed in, and the petal was drawn up almost touching his nose. Zero breathed out, and the petal moved toward his chin. It stayed on Zero's face for an amazingly long time before fluttering off to the side.

As Stanley stared at the glittering night sky, he thought there was no place he would rather be. He was glad Zero put the shoes on the parked car. He was glad they fell from the overpass and hit him on the head.

He doubted any counselors were still on guard. Everyone had to think they were dead. Buzzard food.

When the shoes first fell from the sky, he remembered thinking that destiny had struck him. Now, he thought so again. It was more than a coincidence. It had to be destiny.

They could refill their jars and canteen at the camp. Maybe sneak into the kitchen and get some food.

It would mean living the rest of his life as a fugitive. The police would always be after him. At least he could call his parents and tell them he was still alive. But he couldn't go visit them, in case the police were watching the apartment. Although, if everyone thought he was dead, they wouldn't bother to watch the apartment. He would have to somehow get a new identity.

Maybe they wouldn't have to return to Camp Green Lake, he thought. Maybe they could make it past the camp, then follow the dirt road back to civilization. They could fill the sack with onions, and the three jars with water. And he had his canteen as well.

Now, I'm really thinking crazy, he thought. He wondered if a crazy person wonders if he's crazy.

You're crazy! he told himself. Besides, just because he found a lipstick container with K B on it, that didn't mean there was treasure buried there.

Or maybe it was destiny.

But even as he thought this, an even crazier idea kept popping into his head. He knew it was too crazy to even consider. Still, if he was going to be a fugitive for the rest of his life, it would help to have some money, perhaps a treasure chest full of money.

"Huh?" Zero muttered.

He reached over and shook Zero's arm. "Hey, Zero," he whispered.

It was crazy. It was all part of his crazy feeling of happiness.

"Zero, wake up."

"What?" Zero raised up his head. "What is it?"

"You want to dig one more hole?" Stanley asked him.