High School Boot Camp

By Charles Allenn

When two jobless sisters start prepping their kid brother for high school they land six paying students and their money problems are solved. Now they have bigger issues on their hands as the teens unload a ton of personal baggage and boyfriend problems get thrown in the mix. It's a summer filled with disaster but they find a silver lining through friendships made and memories gained along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles Allenn
• Release date: Mar 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9780967334790

Charles Allenn

I live in West Orange, New Jersey with my wife, Queen, daughters Karimba and Malawi, and son Kalani. I am the real life Clarence Barndale from High School Boot Camp, my first novel for teens. I'm really a shy person, but I force myself to be social when I have to. I'm funny, artistic, patient, and persistent when it comes to pursuing my dream. Can you believe I've been at this for thirty-five years now? Wow! I also daydream a lot, but that's how I come up with most of my ideas, and my wife thinks I'm a write-a-holic. Maybe because I fall asleep at my desk and bang my head on my keyboard. All in all, I love what I do. It's been a long, hair-raising journey, but if I had to do it over again, I'd choose to be a writer in a heartbeat.

Book preview

High School Boot Camp

By Charles Allenn

Copyright Charles Allenn 2015

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter 1: A Sister’s Call To Duty

"Karimba and Malawi braved the freezing cold, looking everywhere for a sign of which way he went. But there was nothing. No dogs barking. No footprints in the snow. Not a single sound of a child in trouble. As snowflakes melted inside her collar, Malawi turned to her older sister and said, ‘Let’s go back. Maybe they found him.’

"When they reached the corner, their mother ran over and took a second to catch her breath. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were desperate for good news. ‘Have you heard from your dad?’

They shook their heads. She quickly pivoted and was about to take off, when she looked up, and there we were headed their way. Greatly relieved, they rushed and hugged him like he’d been gone for days. But in reality it was only an hour . . . A long three thousand six hundred heart-pounding seconds we would remember the rest of our lives.

Their father’s voice trailed off, and the girls were glad the story was over. It was a horrible experience, and sitting through it was not easy. But now they could relax. The sky was clear. The sun was shining, and a lazy summer breeze blew across the deck. All they wanted was to sit back and enjoy it in peace. However, it was a pleasure that was not meant to be. A storm was brewing as their mother’s friend, Danielle, had something she was dying to get off her chest.

Okay, Mr. Writer, you deserve an award for that dramatization. But after sitting through it three times, one thing still puzzles me. Why didn’t you guys call 911?

He nervously folded his arms and leaned against the rail. We didn’t think getting the police involved was a good idea.

Why? They’re trained for things like that.

We know, but . . .

But what?

He and his wife exchanged glances and she nodded for him to continue. We never told you this, but the first time he walked off, one of the officers tried to accuse us of neglect. Now we’re just cautious because we don’t want a problem with Child Services.

Okay, so he got away from you twice. They would have understood that.

Not twice, said Mrs. Barndale, covering her lips. It’s been more like . . . five times.

Danielle stared at her with her mouth wide open. Now that could be a problem! Suddenly, she gave her a mean look. Wait a minute! You’ve been keeping secrets from me?!

Sorry, we didn’t want to broadcast it to the world. All it would take is one phone call to destroy our family.

Do you think I would do that to you?

Of course not. We just thought it was best to keep it to ourselves.

And I thought we had no secrets. Danielle rolled her eyes at her and turned back to her husband. Clarence, I’m not trying to tell you guys what to do, but you need to help Kalani understand that he can’t go out alone. He needs to tell someone, and then wait for somebody to go with him. I know he has special needs, but he’s old enough to do that.

Well . . . in a way he did, he admitted, timidly rubbing his eyebrow. Lydia and I were in the kitchen and he kept saying he wanted to go for a walk. I finally told him to get his coat. I thought he’d get it and come back so we could go out together. But in his mind, he thought it meant get your coat and go.

Danielle chuckled. That’s why you have to be careful what you say to children. She looked at the perimeter of the property, and then gazed at Kalani sitting at a picnic table drawing. So you put up a fence to keep him in the yard. You have a self-closing gate with a combination lock, and an alarm on the front and back door of the house. This place is like a fort, but how secure is his school?

Adequate, but to play it safe we ordered a TrakMax 9000 GPS device. It should arrive any day.

Will the staff at The Kennard School want to be bothered with that thing?

About Kennard . . . said Mrs. Barndale. He won’t be going. We decided to send him to Punchville High instead.

The hair stood up on Malawi’s arms, and she leaned toward her mother. Excuse me. Did you just say Punchville High?

Yes.

You can’t send him there! shouted Karimba. Those kids will eat him alive!

You’re exaggerating.

Seriously, said Malawi, that place is a nightmare. You should see how they treat students who don’t fit in.

If you’re talking about bullying, said Mrs. Barndale, there are laws against that.

Yeah, but it still happens, said Karimba. If Malawi hadn’t graduated this year, I’d be okay with it, but with both of us in college, there’s nobody to protect him.

Their father cleared his throat. Girls, from what I remember, Punchville High was a friendly school. It can’t be as bad as you make it sound.

But it is! Karimba snapped. She put her hands together begging them. Please, please, reconsider. When you guys were there, the mascot was a toucan holding a fruit drink. Now the poor bird runs around giving people a black eye. You can’t send him there!

He shrugged his shoulders. It’s already been decided. If things turn out to be as bad as you claim, next year we’ll send him to Kennard.

Malawi covered her face. By then it may be too late.

Oh, brother! said Karimba, grabbing her hair. Let’s go, Malawi, we have some serious talking to do. The girls bolted into the house.

Mrs. Barndale shook her head and looked at Danielle. As a realtor you keep up with the quality of the school system. Is there any truth to what they said?

Frankly, there is, but the new superintendent has some great ideas, and I honestly believe he’ll get things under control. And for the record, I think you’re doing the right thing. The high school is a tough place, but it’s just a reflection of the world Kalani has to live in. If he’s going to survive, it’s the best environment for him to learn.

She nodded. That’s the way we look at it. We love him, but we can’t shelter him forever.

The girls barreled into Karimba’s room and fell on her bed. That man and woman downstairs are totally ridiculous, said Karimba. How on earth could they even think of doing this to him?

Well, it’s not like they’re doing it on purpose, said Malawi. They’re just clueless.

It doesn’t matter! We’re his big sisters, and we have some responsibility for him. We have to do something.

But they’re his parents. We can’t force them to change their mind.

I’m not talking about that. I’m saying we need to do something to help prepare him for what he’s about to face.

Yeah, like help him to act more mature. The first thing we need to do is trash all those stuffed animals.

Tell me about it. Mom needs to stop buying him those things, and Dad needs to stop getting him T-shirts with cartoon characters on them.

I know. And I swear, if I saw anybody trying to humiliate him I’d . . .

That’s just it! said Karimba, throwing up her hands. You won’t see anything because you won’t be there. So we have to do everything we can to minimize his suffering. At the top of the list should be taking him to the mall to do his school shopping. She sat up as ideas started running through her head. Can you get that notebook and pen from my dresser. We’ll list all the areas where he needs help and start from there.

So, you’re serious about this? I thought you were joking!

Yes, I’m serious. Are you with me or what?

You know I am. Malawi grabbed the notebook and plopped back down. She opened it to the first page and titled it Preparing Kalani for Punchville. She dropped down a few lines and wrote #1 Buy Age Appropriate Clothing. Should I be writing these in order of importance or are we just brainstorming?

Just brainstorming. Once we get our list, we’ll go through and put everything in a different order. So you have clothes. Write down Trash The Stuffed Animals and Teach Him Not To Wave At Everybody He Sees.

Good one, said Malawi, writing quickly trying to keep up. I have another one. How To Deal With Nosey, Staring People.

Yes! People are rude. And knowing Kalani, he’ll end up slugging somebody, which we don’t want. Then there’s the whole bag lunch thing.

Definitely no bag lunch. He has to learn to eat pizza and fries like everybody else. Malawi paused and thought for a moment. I know the bag lunch thing would make him look geeky, but shouldn’t he be able to bring in his own lunch if he doesn’t like what the cafeteria serves?

In a perfect world, yes. But this is Punchville High we’re talking about. If he brings his own lunch, he’s had it.

You’re right. And here’s one we really have to drill into him. No passing gas around other people!

Oh, my God! And he thinks it’s so funny.

They paused to clear their heads of the putrid memories, and then brainstormed for another half hour. When they were done, they went to propose their plan to their parents. They found them in the kitchen putting dishes in the cabinet. Kalani was at the table eating vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. His mouth was a creamy mess. I believe that would fall under lesson 7, said Malawi. How To Eat In Public.

Karimba gave him a napkin. Please, clean your mouth. When you get to the high school, you can’t eat like that.

Okay, he responded, wiping until it met her approval.

Their father scratched the top of his clean-shaven head. Lesson 7? What’s that all about?

Mom, Dad have a seat, said Karimba. We have something we’d like to share with you. Their parents smiled at each other, knowing a whopper was coming, then settled around the table. Okay, here’s the deal, she continued. Malawi and I are freaking out because you guys are sending our brother into that jungle next fall. And since you refuse to listen to reason, we came up with a plan.

Malawi flipped through the notebook. So it’s like this. What we propose is a summer program where we work with him for three hours Monday through Friday, preparing him for this life-changing move. We’ll cover things like social life, classroom behavior, grooming, and dealing with conflict. Right now he’s way behind the other freshman coming in, but with our help, he’ll be in a better place by September.

Karimba nervously watched their faces. So, what do you think?

Mrs. Barndale turned to her husband and raised her eyebrows. Well? He wrinkled his forehead, put his hand on his chin and stared pensively out the back door. They waited and waited, until the suspense was unbearable.

Daddy, come on! yelled Karimba. Just answer the question.

I’d like to know what your mother thinks, he said. The girls quickly turned to their mom.

Sounds like a wonderful idea to me, but your father has to agree with it, too.

Malawi folded her arms and smirked. Well, Dad, it’s your call.

He stood and slowly walked from one end of the room to the other. He stopped, put his hands in his pockets and strolled back. Why not?

Yay! The girls gave each other a high-five.

But I want both of you to keep this in mind, he continued. Helping your brother mature is a good thing. But it would be wrong to try and make him change to please other people. He must have the freedom to be himself and not feel it’s unacceptable to do that.

Understood, said Karimba. But we’re talking about Punchville High. The rules are different there, and people do whatever’s necessary to survive. But in light of your concerns, we will definitely tweak our plan. Okay?

Okay.

When do you plan on starting? their mother asked.

Malawi looked at the clock. Nine tomorrow morning.

And what happens when you get your summer jobs?

Karimba sighed. I guess we’ll work with him in the evening, but right now it looks like those hours will be fine. We plastered the mall with applications and nobody’s called us back.

Hopefully, they will. You both need to save for college. If you could buy one or two textbooks, it would be a big help.

We know, said Karimba. It’s not like we’re not trying.

Maybe you need to try harder.

They will, their father added. And I bet in another week, you’ll have job offers coming out your ears. Just keep your chin up.

They weren’t as confident about it as he was, but it was a ray of hope, and they were willing to take it. For now, the pressure was off, and they got back to the subject at hand. Malawi turned to Kalani and smiled. Ready to shape up for high school little brother?

Yeah! he responded.

Well, make sure you get to bed real early because tomorrow is going to be a busy day for you!

Chapter 2: Surprises In All Sizes

When morning came, Karimba stuffed her face in the pillow to shield her eyes from the light streaming through the blinds. She peeked at the clock and saw that it was eight. Time to get up. She dressed, and they went down for breakfast, then grabbed some supplies and headed for the yard. They enthusiastically got to work, but by ten, the enthusiasm was gone.

When you’re waiting in line, don’t slouch or they’ll treat you like a wimp. Stand strong! said Karimba, pressing Kalani’s stomach. He sucked in his abdomen and stood up straight, only to slouch seconds later. No, stand strong! He corrected his posture, then caved his chest and let his belly hang out again. Oh, Kalani! she yelled, slapping her forehead. Malawi, he’s yours.

Okay, Kalani. Can we finally get this right? When your laces come loose, don’t walk around dragging them like a little child! You stop and tie them. When your laces come loose, what do you do?