They went right to Garden Poultry and bought two boxes of French fries, along with a Coke and a Mountain Dew. Mark did the Dew. They brought the food to the pocket park and sat on a bench to enjoy their feast. Neither one had said anything from the time they left the police station. They just kind of drifted toward Garden Poultry without even discussing it.
Finally, as he finished his last crispy golden fry, Mark said, “I’m sorry, Courtney.”
Courtney gulped down the rest of her Coke, then said, “Losing that page from the journal was an accident. It was as much my fault as yours. But not telling me right away that Mitchell found out about the journals… Mark, that was bad.”
“I know, I know,” was all Mark could say. “I thought I could handle the guy. I… I was embarrassed to tell you how bad I screwed up. But man, when he wanted to see all the journals and started talking about how we were going to be famous when we showed the whole world what we had — I didn’t know what to do.”
“You should have come to me before it got that bad,” said Courtney. Mark could tell she was angry.
“Yeah,” said Mark guiltily. “But your plan was awesome.” He thought back to the moment when he finally fessed up to Courtney about what had happened. It was right after Mitchell demanded to see all of the journals. Courtney didn’t get angry. Instead she came up with the idea to turn the tables on Mitchell. She knew he would tell the police about the journals to claim the reward. That was a no-brainer. But they figured they could beat him to the punch by pretending they wrote the story themselves. It took Courtney three late nights of grueling typing to get Bobby’s first journals into her computer. Then they printed out the pages and took them right to Captain Hirsch. That’s when they told him the bogus story about their handwritten version being stolen. The key to the whole thing was showing the story to the policebeforeMitchell did. Neither of them liked to lie, but the situation was desperate. Mitchell had to be stopped from exposing Bobby’s story to the world.
As it turned out, it became only half a lie when Mitchell came to Mark’s house and ended up stealing the journals after all. Still, if Mitchell had just read the journals and returned them, that would have been the end. But they knew Mitchell wouldn’t do that. He was too greedy. They knew he’d take the journals to the police — and walk right into their trap. The sting worked beautifully. They got Bobby’s journals back and Mitchell couldn’t demand to see them anymore by threatening to go to the police.
It was a beautiful thing, but Mark still felt bad for not having been totally honest with Courtney.
“You brought me into this when you showed me the first journal,” Courtney said. “If you want me to stay in, you’ve got to be honest with me, always.”
“I will, I promise,” Mark whined.
The two were silent for a second, then slowly, Courtney smiled a devilish smile. “But it sure was sweet seeing Mitchell squirm!”
Mark laughed too and they slapped high-fives. Mark then reached around his neck and pulled out the chain that held the key to his secret desk. Dangling next to it was Mark’s ring. He took it off and put it right back on his finger, where it belonged.
There was nothing left to do now but go home. They walked together until Courtney reached her street.
“So, you’ll call me?” asked Courtney.
“Soon as the next journal shows,” answered Mark, as he always did.
The two then gave each other a hug and separated.
They wouldn’t get back together for another five months.
Both went back to their normal lives at home and at school. Since the only friend they had in common was Bobby, that meant neither of them saw much of each other. Occasionally they’d pass in the hallway. Courtney would look at him as if to ask: “Well?” Mark would just shake his head. Nothing yet.
Courtney played softball for the Stony Brook team. It was fast-pitch and she was the pitcher. The team went undefeated that spring, and Courtney was MVP of course.
Mark’s big project was to build a battling robot for a county science fair. He had a real knack for mechanics and physics. The robot was killer. It destroyed the competition with a combination hook, buzz saw, sledgehammer package. He took first prize and started to investigate how to get on the TV with his battling robotic baby.
Courtney had a birthday on March 6. She turned fifteen. Mark sent her a card with the greeting: “Happy Birthday, Hobey-ho!”
The two did get together once, on March 11. Bobby’s birthday. They went back to Garden Poultry on the Ave, got some fries, and toasted Bobby in the pocket park with Coke and Dew.
Both wondered if Bobby had any idea that he had just turned fifteen.
The next big event was graduation from Stony Brook Junior High in June. Mark was valedictorian and was supposed to give a speech. But he was too nervous and let the runner-up take his place on the podium. He was still the valedictorian, though, and got a huge dictionary as a prize. The next stop for these two was high school — a big, scary step. They would soon be going to Davis Gregory High, the big public high school in Stony Brook. Nobody knew who Davis Gregory was, but they figured he must have been somebody important. Mark wondered if someday there’d be a school called Bobby Pendragon High.
The summer went along lazily. Courtney played baseball and got her junior lifeguard certification. Mark tinkered with his killer robot, getting ready for the big state competition. He had gotten an invitation and everything. His reputation was getting around.
Mark always wore the ring, waiting for the day when the next journal would arrive. The truth was, both Mark and Courtney tried not to think about Bobby, because the longer it went without getting a journal, the more they feared that something nasty had happened to him. That was something they didn’t even want to consider, so it was easier to put Bobby out of their minds entirely.
Then, on August 21, two things happened. First, it was Mark’s fifteenth birthday. He celebrated in his usual way: getting some creepy new clothes from his mother and a gift certificate from his father that would be spent wisely at the local electronics store.
The other thing that happened was Mark got a strange phone call at home.
An official-sounding woman’s voice said, “May I speak to a Mr. Mark Dimond, please?”
“That’s me.”
“This is Ms. Jane Jansen, vice-president of the National Bank of Stony Brook. Are you familiar with us?”
The woman sounded like somebody’s idea of a pruny old schoolteacher.
“Uh… sure,” he said. “You’re on the Ave… uh… Stony Brook Avenue.”
“Correct,” she answered. “Do you know a Ms. Courtney Chetwynde?”
“Yes, what’s this about?”
“Mr. Dimond, would you and Ms. Chetwynde please come down to our branch as soon as possible? With some identification? I believe this may be an issue of some importance.”
This really threw Mark. He didn’t even have a bank account. What could they possibly want with him and Courtney? He was just about to tell this wacky woman that he wanted to call his parents first, when she dropped the bomb.
“It has to do with a Mr. Robert Pendragon.”
Those were the magic words.
“We’ll be right there,” Mark said, and hung up the phone before she had the chance to say good-bye.
Mark immediately called Courtney and was relieved to find her home. Half an hour later, the two of them were standing outside the large, gray cement building with the big brass letters that read: national bank of stony brook.
Mark never understood how Stony Brook could have a national bank, but it had been around forever so he figured they must know what they were doing. The bank itself was old-fashioned. There was a huge lobby with a high ceiling capped by a glass dome. This was not like the modern banks that Mark had been in with his mother. This looked like the bank from Mary Poppins. There was lots of dark polished wood, brass hardware, and leather furniture. There were a lot of customers, too, and they all whispered when they spoke. It was like a library. Mark thought this bank probably looked exactly the same as it did the year it was built. Based on the cornerstone he saw outside, that year was 1933.
Mark and Courtney told the receptionist they were there to see a Ms. Jansen. They were asked to have a seat in the waiting area, so the two of them sank into the cushy leather chairs to wait for this mysterious woman who had some news about Bobby.
“You have any clue what this is about?” Courtney asked Mark.
