Stanley didn't give him any more words, thinking that he needed to save his strength.
But about ten or fifteen minutes later, Zero said, “Lunch.” As they climbed higher, the patches of weeds grew thicker,
and they had to be careful not to get their feet tangled in thorny vines.
Stanley suddenly realized something. There hadn't been any weeds on the lake.
“Weeds and bugs,” he said. “There's got to be water around somewhere. We must be getting close.”
A wide clown-like smile spread across Zero's face. He flashed the thumbs-up sign, then fell.
He didn't get up. Stanley bent over him. “C'mon, Zero,” he urged. “We're getting close. C'mon, Hector. Weeds and bugs. Weeds and boogs.”
Stanley shook him. “I've already ordered your hot fudge sundae,” he said. “They're making it right now.”
Zero said nothing. Stanley took hold of Zero's forearms and pulled him upright.
Then he stooped down and let Zero fall over his right shoulder. He stood up, lifting Zero's worn-out body off the ground.
He left the shovel and sack of jars behind as he continued up the mountain.
Zero's legs dangled in front of him. Stanley couldn't see his feet, which made it difficult to walk through the tangled patches of weeds and vines.
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