Actually, Stanley had been impressed when he first found out that his great-grandfather was robbed by Kissin’ Kate Barlow.
True, he would have preferred living on the beach in California, but it was still kind of cool to have someone in your family robbed by a famous outlaw.
Kate Barlow didn’t actually kiss Stanley’s great-grandfather. That would have been really cool, but she only kissed the men she killed.
Instead, she robbed him and left him stranded 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.
Stanley felt somewhat dazed as the guard unlocked his handcuffs and led him off the 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 the steps, 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. There was 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 some tents.
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