The Mysterious Benedict Society

to meet an Executive, though. Reynie hesitated a long time at the cafeteria door. Then telling himself he must at least pretend to be brave, he went inside.

He saw the girls right away. They sat in damp clothes at a table to themselves. Constance resembled a wet hen — same shape, same dour crankiness, and only slightly larger — but Kate smiled when he came in, and the sight of her sunny face gave Reynie a pinprick of hope. He reminded himself Kate was capable of smiling in dire circumstances. He shouldn’t assume good news. Still, nobody seemed to be paying him any attention, and the Executive on duty only gave him a bored look and turned away. So perhaps Kate really did know something.

Kate really did. The moment Reynie sat down, she told him he was safe.

Reynie thought he would die of relief.

“They were questioning students when Constance and I came down the hill,” Kate said. “Nobody saw you. Jackson asked us and we told the same story. He was yelling at S.Q.: ‘Is that really the best you can say? An average-looking boy? An awful lot of boys are average-looking, S.Q.!’ And poor S.Q., he just kept arguing that this boy was especially average-looking. Jackson seemed ready to strangle him.”

Reynie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was safe! Really safe! And then, just as suddenly as the weight had lifted from his shoulders, it returned. For now that one worry had passed, others quickly crowded in to take its place. Sticky was still in danger. And if Sticky was, they all were.

“Are you okay?” Kate asked. “You look terrible.”

“At least he’s dry,” said Constance, who was blotting her hair with a napkin.

“You haven’t seen Sticky, have you? Or heard anything?”

The girls shook their heads. They all grew very solemn, then, and finished their meal in silence.

The Waiting Room

Reynie sat alone in his room. It was after nine o’clock, and Sticky had still not shown up. A message broadcast had just ended, and Reynie, worn out, was making himself go over the day’s notes one last time. For once he was glad to be studying his lessons — studying helped take his mind off worse things. He’d even been grateful for the message broadcast, which was so irritating and made it so difficult to concentrate that he’d had no space left over in his brain to worry about Sticky. Even so, Reynie felt awful, and now to make matters worse, he smelled something awful, too. His nose wrinkled with disgust. What was that? Had something crawled under the floor and died?

Then the door opened. It was Sticky.

He was covered in slimy, black stinking mud, and he walked into the room like a zombie. From his red, hugely swollen eyes it was obvious he’d been crying for hours. But it wasn’t the eyes themselves that caught Reynie’s heart — it was their look of total despair.

Reynie leaped up and threw his arms around Sticky. “You’re out!”

Sticky pulled away without speaking. He removed his spectacles, studied their mud-spotted lenses, and set them on the desk without bothering to clean them. Then, still not saying a word, he went out of the room. Reynie grabbed some of Sticky’s things and ran out after him. In the corridor he squeezed past two Helpers already mopping up Sticky’s muddy footprints in weird silence. A couple of boys were leaving the bathroom, holding their noses and trying not to step in the muddy spots on the floor. Reynie ran into the bathroom.

Sticky had stepped into a shower stall without undressing and was trying to grip the faucet handle, but his slimy hand kept slipping off. Finally he grabbed it with both hands and wrenched on the hot water. He flinched when the spray struck his face, then stood impassively, eyes closed, as black water swirled at his feet.

Reynie watched him anxiously. “I’ve brought you some soap, Sticky. And a towel and clean clothes.”

Sticky made no reply.

“Hey, get undressed and use this soap, all right?” After Reynie had repeated this several times, Sticky gave a dull nod and reached for the soap.

Reynie washed up at the sinks — he was filthy and rank from hugging Sticky — then went to their room, changed clothes, and waited. He stared at the door, afraid of what was coming. Afraid to have his suspicions confirmed. He’d been doing his best to remain calm, but he was trembling all over. He felt sure Sticky had been brainswept. And Mr. Curtain wouldn’t erase Sticky’s memories just for cheating, would he? If not, then why had this happened? What crime would call for such terrible action? There seemed to be only one answer: Sticky had told Mr. Curtain everything.

When Sticky finally returned, he dumped his wet clothes in the corner, put on his muddy glasses without cleaning them, and then, without once looking at Reynie, he pulled his suitcase from beneath the bed.

“Sticky, what’s happened?”

No reply.

“You have to talk to me, Sticky! I’m afraid something terrible has happened to you. Not just the Waiting Room, I mean, but something even worse.”

In a dull tone just tinged with anger, Sticky said, “I don’t suppose there’s anything worse than that place. What would you know about it?”

Reynie caught his breath. Sticky remembered the Waiting Room — and come to think of it, he remembered where his suitcase was. There was still hope! “You’re right, Sticky. I don’t know anything that’s happened. Can you tell me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sticky said, opening the wardrobe with trembling fingers. “And I don’t intend to go back there. I’m running away. They told me Mr. Curtain couldn’t see me today, that S.Q. will come for me again in the morning. I’m to meet with Mr. Curtain ‘if he’s available.’ So either I’ll have to go back to that . . . that nightmare, or else I’ll have to face Mr. Curtain, where I’m certain to go to pieces, Reynie, where I’m certain to lose control and tell on you and everyone else —”

The more Sticky spoke, the more emotion crept into his voice, until at last, shaking, he covered his eyes and dropped to his knees. “I can’t do it, Reynie. I can’t go back there, and I can’t face Mr. Curtain without failing you. I just can’t. I have to leave. I have no choice.”