The Mysterious Benedict Society

“Constance? Oh, no, sir. She’s too stubborn even to let me help her with homework. I’m sure you’ve noticed how stubborn she is. You notice everything about everybody, if you don’t mind my saying so, sir.”

“Hm,” said Mr. Curtain. “I have noticed that, it’s true. But if not Constance Contraire, then of whom are you speaking?”

“Well, as I was saying, sir, she put so much pressure on me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it, she being a Messenger and all —”

“WHAT?” Mr. Curtain bellowed, his face instantly purple. “A Messenger? Snakes and dogs, I’ll —” He cut himself off, and for a few moments went absolutely silent, as if trying to decide just what horrible thing to do to Sticky. Send him back to the Waiting Room? Fling him into a patch of drapeweed? Crush him beneath the wheels of his chair?

Sticky closed his eyes.

When several moments had passed, however, without his being sent, flung, or crushed, Sticky opened one eye. The color had faded from Mr. Curtain’s face so that it no longer looked like an eggplant with glasses; only the tip of his lumpy nose retained a crimson hue. And he had begun drumming his fingers again. “George,” Mr. Curtain said, more calmly now, “why are you looking at me with one eye?”

Sticky quickly opened his other eye. “I . . . I . . .”

“Never mind,” said Mr. Curtain. “Now explain yourself. Are you telling me a Messenger made you cheat?”

“I’m sorry to say so, sir. It made her furious that Reynie and I were doing so well. She couldn’t believe we already knew more than she did. She humiliated me in class, and later she told me she’d keep doing it — or even worse — unless I agreed to help her. The quizzes were so much easier if I just gave her the answers, she said. And if I did, she would make it easier for me — by not tormenting me.”

“You are speaking of Martina Crowe,” Mr. Curtain said.

Sticky nodded.

“Hmm. I shall have to look into this. Your cheating doesn’t trouble me much, I must say, so long as I understand the situation. The secret is control, do you see? I simply wish to know the circumstances so that I can manipulate — that is, so that I can manage them. No matter what the circumstances, George, so long as they are controlled, we may have harmony. Do you understand?”

“I believe so, sir.”

“Very well. I’m sorry you had to wait to speak with me on this matter. I understand it is an unpleasant thing to wait. Unfortunately there’s no help for it sometimes — I’m quite busy. The good news is that you will not be punished.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sticky said humbly.

“And George?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You are doing rather well, aren’t you?”

“Apparently, sir.”

Mr. Curtain was looking Sticky up and down and nodding to himself, as if appraising a fine new piece of machinery that would come in handy.

“Nice work,” said Constance. “You’re a natural liar.”

It was less diplomatic congratulations than he’d received from Reynie and Kate — who had cheered and clapped him on the back — but Sticky was too relieved to quibble.

They were on their way to lunch, trailing well behind the rest of the students so that they could speak privately in the corridors. They were all pretty pleased with themselves — not least because Martina Crowe was in hot water. And now, as they approached the end of the corridor, they overheard Jackson and Jillson talking in an empty classroom. Looking at one another in silent agreement, they stopped walking to listen.

“— finally caught who was spying in the gym,” Jackson was saying. “A waste, though. He was a good Messenger. And a special recruit, you know. Mr. Curtain would probably have kept him on, trained him into an Executive one day. I guess now he’ll be retrained as a Helper.”

“Too bad,” Jillson said. “Shouldn’t have been so average-looking.”

“What he shouldn’t have been was so curious,” said Jackson. “The nerve of that kid! Always asking questions — it’s what got him sent to the Waiting Room last time, you know. I thought he’d learned his lesson.”

“Apparently not,” said Jillson. “Any word on the accomplice?”

“His partner in crime? Not yet. Personally I can’t see what there is to worry about, but you know Mr. Curtain. Can’t be too careful, he says. We’re supposed to be extra vigilant, keep an eye out.” Jackson grunted. “And I guess you heard he’s changing the door codes.”

“No! Again? I hate learning new codes!”

“Tell me about it,” Jackson said. “Would have saved us some trouble if the kid had ratted on his partner, but he denied everything to the end. Like I said, it’s a shame. Probably would have made a good Executive.”

“Quiet,” Jillson said. “Did you just hear something?”

In the corridor, the children’s eyes widened. They held their breath.

“Only my stomach growling,” Jackson said. “Get your stuff together, won’t you? Let’s go eat.”

That was the children’s cue to move. With relieved expressions, Sticky, Kate, and Constance hurried quietly on down the corridor. Reynie followed behind, trying to calm himself. Jackson’s news had quite upset him.