They drowned Robert," said Mrs. Napoli, looking up from her letter.

You mean that he's finally given up that imaginary friend of his?" said Mr. Napoli.

I don't know, but he writes that Robert drowned," said his wife.

Images of splashing, laughing, as Billy's campmates pretended to throw Robert into the water, and then insisted on turning the canoe in the opposite direction and paddling furiously away, deaf to Billy's shrieks to go back for Robert.

Maybe that's a good sign," said Mr. Napoli. Mrs. Napoli wasn't so sure.

At the end of the three weeks, Billy was returned to his family, looking pale and wan. The only thing pink and healthy about Billy's color was the calamine lotion speckled all over his arms and legs, after the rest of his bunkmates had thrown him into a patch of Poison Ivy. He wore a black t-shirt. He was in mourning...

They thought for sure their experiment had failed.
All fall and winter, Billy began working out. He took his father's weight set from the basement and moved it to his room. The role-playing games gathered dust. Protein shakes replaced sandwiches without the crusts. In the spring, he took up running, tried out for the Pop Warner, and made the football team.

Are you ready, dear?" said his mother, that June.

Billy looked in his suitcase. He had extra tubes of toothpaste to fill the shoes of his fellow campers. He had a new baseball glove. He had a flask of red pepper to throw on the noses of his fellow bunkmates when they were sleeping. He had cases of candy to bribe the younger campers to do his bidding.

Oh, I'm ready," he said.