hands for Jack to pull him up.
“Let me try something first,” said Jack. He handed his light and pack up to Ben.
The passage measured only five feet wide and Jack went to the far right side. Gripping the lip with both hands, he walked his feet up the left-hand side of the wall until he got a foot over the edge. Pulling himself most of the way up, he shot out his left hand at the last second and Ben rolled him onto the edge.
“Pretty good, son,” said Stephen. “I don’t think you even needed help.”
“I need to work on the end-part,” said Jack. “I was stuck.”
Down the corridor they took a left turn followed by right. Another thirty feet along and they faced a five foot drop. Stephen crouched, about to jump down, when Ben stopped him.
“Hey, we only have five minutes until four. Maybe we should head back,” said Ben.
“I just want to see what’s down here,” Stephen said. “We’ll head back when the alarm goes off.”
“We’re just going to have to climb back up though,” said Ben.
“I vote for going until the alarm,” said Jack. “That’s why we set it.”
“Okay,” Ben relented.
They jumped down and found that the hall turned right almost immediately. Six feet later, it ended with a door. Diminutive, but perfectly proportional, the door had an oval-shaped brass handle. It was set into the plywood wall, and it was painted blue with a blue frame.
“Can we even fit through that thing?” Jack asked.
Ben’s alarm sounded and the boys jumped at the sound.
“Let’s go,” said Ben.
They retraced their steps and came to where the corridor jogged up again. Stephen tried Jack’s technique and Ben had to push him over the lip when he could go no further. Ben suffered a similar fate and Stephen grabbed his belt loop and hauled him up.
After handing up his pack, Jack tried a new idea. He used the same positions for his feet and hands, but trotted up to the wall and executed his climb in one smooth motion. Like a high-jumper, he let his momentum pull his weight up and over the edge. Ben and Stephen clapped and whooped approval as Jack made it up on his own.
“You boys are only half awake,” said Jack’s mom at dinner. “Rough day?”
Jack’s had his head turned to the side and propped up on one hand. Ben and Stephen both slumped over their plates.
“We were trying to track a deer,” said Jack. “But it ran too fast.”
“Elbows, Jack,” said his father.
“Hey mom, can we write our diaries in the morning? I’m tired,” said Jack.
“Sure, but they better be done before you go out,” she replied.
The trips back and forth to the hotel had taken their toll. Normally, they could hike that distance with no problem, but they had expended extra energy moving through the woods to avoid Smoker and Bag Man.
“So what’s the most interesting thing you guys have learned this summer?” asked Jack’s dad.
“Ummm, we learned that you can find yellow and black morel mushrooms starting in July,” said Jack.
“It’s easiest to find them four to ten days after a good rain,” said Ben.
“You’re not eating these, I hope?” asked Jack’s dad.
“No, of course not dad,” said Jack. “Oh, and we learned that mosquitos grow in vernal pools.”
“Interesting,” his dad replied. “What are vernal pools?”
“They’re temporary pools that start from springs or spring snow melt,” said Ben. “But they don’t have fish. So salamanders, and frogs, and stuff can live there without being eaten.”
Later, upstairs in Jack’s room, Stephen expressed his disappointment with his friends. “You guys totally wasted all that vernal pool stuff — now what are we going to write about?”
“Relax,” said Jack. “There’s tons of stuff to write about.”
“Yeah, but we had that all worked out,” Stephen sighed. “What a waste.”
“Well what are we supposed to say? ‘Oh no, dad, we didn’t learn anything interesting. Might as well sign us up for soccer camp or hauling trash at one of your work sites,’” said Jack.
“It will take us less time to look up something else, than to argue about it,” said Ben. He was sitting at Jack’s computer and he began to search for another topic. “Hey, you might want to check this out. Looks like it’s going to rain pretty hard tomorrow.”
“What time?” asked Jack.
“Pretty much all day,” said Ben.
“Shit,” said Jack. “The hotel is out then.”
“Why?” asked Stephen. “We can make it inside and then it’s all indoors.”
“My mom thinks we’ll be outside all day,” said Jack. “She won’t want us out in the rain. Plus, we’d have to come home soaked to make it look realistic.”
“Damn,” said Stephen. “I was really looking forward to seeing what’s behind that door. That maze was cool.”
“That reminds me,” Ben got up, “I’ve got to call my mom again.” He walked out of Jack’s room and went to the guest room.
“So what’s the plan then?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I guess we’ll have to find something else to do tomorrow.”
“What was your dad talking about yesterday?” Stephen asked. “Some job?”
“Wrapping pipes,” Jack said. “I’ve done that for him before. It means he’s working at a place with a bunch of heating pipes and you have to put these covers on all the pipes to keep the heat in.”
“Ugh. Sounds awful,” said Stephen.
“It’s not too bad, but I’d rather just find a way to hang out,” said Jack. “Probably best if we just get up a little late, after he’s gone, and then hang out in the basement.”
“Your mom won’t kick us out?”
“Maybe, but if we’re quiet she might get into her work and not notice us,” said Jack.
The next day, Jack’s plan worked and they spent the morning in the basement, alternating between television and video games. After lunch, they were tired of videos, so they went up to Jack’s room to do their diaries. Ben had the idea of getting ahead on their assignment so they wouldn’t have to worry about it for a few days. He argued that as long as they were stuck inside, they might as well get something out of it. Jack was the fastest writer and had four night’s work done while Ben and Stephen were still wrapping up their second.
Sitting on his bed, Jack was the first to notice the commotion at the Vigue house through a lull in the rain.
“Whoa, check it out,” Jack slid on his bed and pressed his forehead to his window.
Ben and Stephen joined him on the bed and the three of them looked out. Just past the Vigue house they could see several men in jumpsuits carrying furniture and boxes out of Mr. Anderson’s house. Mr. Vigue sat on a folding chair in his lawn, watching the parade of movers.
Jack grabbed his field-glasses and focused on Mr. Vigue. He could make out that Vigue had a beer in his right hand and had his left leg crossed over his right. While Jack watched, Vigue finished his beer and tossed the bottle into Anderson’s yard.
“His furniture is going to get all wet,” said Stephen.
“Who’s that over by the tree?” asked Ben.
Just beyond Anderson’s walkway a tall oak grew in his front yard. Jack could make out the legs of someone leaning against the tree. The legs wore jeans; Jack couldn’t see the anything above the waist — a branch from the tree obscured the top half of the figure.
“I can’t see who it is,” said Jack.
“Is it that guy who lives there?” Ben asked. “The guy the police picked up.”
“I don’t think so. Looks too skinny,” Jack answered.
The boys watched men go back and forth, moving items from the house to the van. The back of the van faced
