The Mysterious Benedict Society

You haven’t ever missed your parents?” He was always curious about how other orphans felt. His own parents were never known to him, and so he didn’t miss them in particular, but on rainy days, or days when other children taunted him, or nights when he awoke from a bad dream and could use a hug and perhaps a story to lull him back to sleep — at times like these he didn’t miss his parents, exactly, but he did wish for them.

Kate, apparently, felt otherwise. “What’s to miss?” she said breezily. “Like I said, I don’t even remember my mother, and who wants a father who’ll run away and leave his baby daughter all by herself? I’d much rather spend my time with elephants and clowns.” She frowned. “Sticky, what’s wrong with you?”

Throughout their conversation, Sticky’s expression had grown more and more dejected, his big eyes sadder and sadder, so that at last his face had taken on the exact gloomy look of that miserable man Milligan.

Reynie put his hand on Sticky’s shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Oh . . . yes,” Sticky said, unconvincingly, “I was just, you know, feeling sorry for Kate. It must be terrible to think you weren’t wanted.”

Kate laughed (a bit stiffly, it seemed to Reynie) and said, “Weren’t you listening, chum? I told you, I’m having a ball!” She went on to regale them with stories about circus life — hanging from trapezes, leaping through flaming hoops, getting shot from cannons — until gradually Sticky cheered up, and the matter of parents was dropped.

They had been waiting on the steps for perhaps an hour, and were beginning to grumble about how hungry they were, when the front door opened, and Rhonda Kazembe appeared. At least, they thought it was Rhonda Kazembe. She did have the same features and coal-black skin, and she was the same height as Rhonda, but gone were the puffy white dress and long green hair. Instead, her hair hung in lovely dark braids all about her face, and she wore a smart blue jumper and sandals. When she saw them on the steps, she laughed with pleasure.

“Hi, kids! Remember me?”

“Rhonda? Is it really you?” Sticky asked.

“I hope so,” she replied. “Otherwise someone’s played a very clever trick on me.”

When Rhonda sat down with them and Reynie had a closer look at her, he realized something that he’d missed before. “You’re not even a child!” he exclaimed. “You’re a grown-up!”

“Well,” said Rhonda, “a very small, very young grown-up, yes.”

“I knew you were hiding something with that funny get-up, but I thought it had to do with the cheating.”

“No,” said Rhonda, laughing again. “It was just to call attention away from my age, and to distract you in general.”

“I have an idea,” said Kate, whose stomach was growling loudly. “Why don’t you give us some food and tell us what this is all about?”

“Soon, Kate, very soon. There remains one more test, but after that, whether you pass or fail, I promise you all a good supper. Fair enough?”

“It’s a deal,” Kate said.

“Then let’s begin. When I tell you to, each of you must go through this front door. At the very back of the house is a staircase. You’re to reach the staircase as quickly as possible, hurry up the stairs, and ring the bronze bell that hangs at the top. Speed is important, so don’t dawdle. Any questions?”

“Will this test be any harder than the last one?” Kate asked, with a show of bravado.

“Some find it quite difficult,” said Rhonda. “But you should all be able to do it with your eyes closed.”

“Will it be scary?” Sticky asked, almost in a whisper.

“Maybe, but it isn’t really dangerous,” Rhonda said, which did nothing for Sticky’s confidence.

“Who goes first?” Reynie asked.

“That’s an easy one,” Rhonda answered. “You.”

It had been a day full of challenges, all of which Reynie had met successfully, and when he stepped through the front door he was brimming with confidence. By this point he knew there would be some kind of trick involved; and knowing this, he felt sure he’d be ready for it.

He found himself in a brightly lit room with pitch black walls. The front door, which Rhonda had just closed behind him, had no knob on the inside and was likewise painted black, so that it blended into the wall. The room was rather cramped, perhaps six feet wide and six long (Kate would know for sure, he thought), and was entirely empty. Not counting the nearly invisible front door behind him, it had three exits: to the left, to the right, and immediately before him. These doorways had no doors in them, and the rooms beyond were unlit, so that Reynie couldn’t see into them.

Are we expected to walk into dark rooms? he wondered. This is going to make Sticky extremely unhappy. But he was only thinking of Sticky to take his mind off himself, for the prospect of groping about in the darkness intimidated him more than he cared to admit.

“Well,” he said aloud, to bolster his courage, “there’s no time to waste, so here goes.” He plunged through the doorway ahead of him (this ought to be the most direct path to the rear of the house) and, as if by magic, seemed to walk into the very room he had just left. It was cramped, brightly lit, painted black, and he could see a dark doorway in each wall.

“What in the world?” he said, turning to look behind him, then in confusion turning round again. At once he realized his mistake. If he hadn’t turned around, he might have kept his bearings, but now he’d lost them. He was in a maze of identical rooms. Everything looked exactly the same in every direction.

His confidence was quickly draining away.

“Now, think,” he told himself. “When you enter a room, its light must turn on automatically, and when you leave, it goes off. But there are light switches by each door. Perhaps if you throw a switch, the light stays on. It might be as simple as that.”