by Ben Mezrich
As he pulled the first stack of hundred-dollar bills out of the backpack, he noticed a Midwestern-looking couple about five yards away down Solar Avenue, watching him. The man was portly, in jeans and a red sweater, and there was a look of awe on his face as he saw the green in Jeremy’s hand. The woman was short, a little bit stocky, with thick glasses and a tight ponytail. She was saying something to her husband, and he shrugged back at her. Well, Jeremy thought to himself, I’m on a stage. May as well have an audience.
With a flourish, he jammed the stack of hundred-dollar bills into the charity box. And then he dug back into the backpack for another stack.
It took about five minutes to shove all fifty thousand dollars into the slot. When he was done, he stuck his head into the backpack to make sure he’d gotten everything. Every bill, gone. He grinned, imagining what Miranda was going to think. Jeremy had cleaned out the entire baby shelf at the convenience store in the hotel lobby. It seemed like a fair exchange. Fifty thousand dollars for the Red Cross, and a backpack full of diapers for Miranda. If Jeremy had been looking for a definition of the word “karma,” he couldn’t have done much better than that.
He looked up from the bag, and noticed that the Midwestern couple had moved a couple of yards closer. The husband was still wide-eyed, and gave him a once-over, head to toe. Then the man shook his head.
“Wow,” he called out. “That was pretty generous. And a whole lot of money for a kid.”
Jeremy grinned back at him.
“I’m, like, an Internet millionaire. We seem to get younger every year, don’t we?”
With that, he gave the Plexiglas box a gentle pat, then slung the now-empty backpack over his shoulder and shot the Midwestern couple a wink. Then he started back down the steps, ready for another wonderful day of adventure, in the Cheeriest Spot in the Universe.
27
THE RAIN WAS COMING down in gray-on-gray sheets, spitting and splattering against the vast picture windows, droplets exploding against the tempered glass in rapid succession, miniature fireworks through a smoldering sky. Charlie leaned forward on his stool, his face so close that he could almost feel the November wind as it drove the sheets of rain. Down below, when he craned his neck, he could just make out the Charles River looping by, and could even see one of the infamous Boston Duck boats chugging along; from that distance, the awkward half boat, half bus looked more like a waterlogged slug than an amphibious WWII-era vehicle.
Charlie and the Whiz Kids had ridden the Duck boats a few times over the years, but this particular gray Saturday, they were content to be inside, lodged happily at the back window of the Museum of Science’s main dining area. They’d spent the entire morning racing from exhibit to exhibit, because each of them had his or her own personal favorite, and none intersected. Crystal oscillated between the fossils on the first floor and the geology specimens on the third. Kentaro, the History of Language, a traveling exhibit tucked behind the Butterfly Garden. Marion, another traveling exhibit, this one on ancient building techniques: From Pyramids to Igloos and Beyond. Jeremy, dinosaurs, of course, because one could never get enough dinosaurs. And Charlie had his lightning. In short, a trip to the Museum of Science with all five Whiz Kids was well beyond exhausting; which was why, for the past twenty minutes, they’d thankfully traded racing from exhibit to exhibit for the view of the rain over the river, pleasant conversation, and a bite to eat.
“You guys really wanted to blow up MIT?” Jeremy was saying from three stools over from where Charlie was planted. Jeremy had a half-eaten hamburger in one hand, a handful of french fries in the other. “I mean, that’s a pretty stupid plan.”
Kentaro, one seat to Jeremy’s left, jabbed at the him with a hot dog, sending a splash of mustard arcing up past Jeremy’s head.
“Not all of it. Just a little cordite around the Dome. A distraction.”
“That’s not a distraction,” Jeremy responded through a mouthful of burger. “That’s an act of war. The next time we call a Code Blue, you and Marion aren’t included.”
Charlie couldn’t help laughing, watching his Whiz Kids enjoying their banter-filled lunch at the window overlooking the Charles. Inside, he was incredibly grateful for what they’d done. Crystal, especially—he owed her big time. And even though she’d seemed pretty thrilled when he’d given her the agate charm bracelet he’d bought in the airport gift shop with a good portion of his allowance, he was still planning to do more. Maybe a real gemstone someday, something rare for her collection, if he ever saved up enough to purchase one she didn’t already own.
“Well,” Crystal said when she’d finished clapping, “the next time Charlie starts hanging out with mysterious seventh graders, why don’t we just hit him over the head with Marion’s sister’s lacrosse stick and be done with it?”
Charlie laughed again. Although Crystal hadn’t actually said Finn’s name; the mere mention had brought back memories of the airport, the last time he’d seen the seventh-grade leader of the Carnival Killers.
As they always seemed to appear out of nowhere in their mysterious fashion, Finn and Magic walked up behind Charlie as he’d come out of the airport gift shop. It was the first time he’d come face-to-face with Finn since he’d leaped off that stage, backpack full of money in hand. None of the group had spoken at all during the flight home from Florida. And Miranda, well, Charlie hadn’t seen Miranda even once since that moment on the stage. She must have booked a different flight back.
Right after Charlie had returned to Solar Avenue with Dylan and his flunkies, Warden Walker had gathered all the kids from Nagassack together, explaining that Miranda had gone home suddenly with some sort of unexpected illness and her group would be divided up between Walker’s and Mrs. Cauldwell’s. So Charlie had, in fact, been able to spend the last two days at Incredo Land with Jeremy, screaming their way through nine rides on the Space Drop and three more on the Haunted Moon. It really had been the trip of a lifetime.
But seeing Finn and Magic outside the gift shop had nearly scared him right out of his shoes. He’d had no idea what they’d thought of what he’d done. When Finn strolled toward him, hands jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket, Charlie had half expected the older kid to punch him in the face.
Instead, Finn had pulled his right hand out of his jacket pocket and held up the gold-embossed tickets. Lifetime tickets, Charlie’d realized, to Incredo Land. The prize Charlie had won by beating the wheel, which Miranda had handed off to Finn to hold for safekeeping in the shuffle after the stage-diving incident.
Finn had smiled, handing a pair to Charlie. Then he’d held out an open hand for Charlie to shake.
“Good for you, man.”
There was no mention of the money Charlie and Jeremy had donated to the charity, no mention of Miranda, no mention of the frantic scene on the stage. He didn’t seem angry at what Charlie had done, or bewildered by the loss of Miranda; in fact, he seemed as cool and collected as he ever had. Finn had simply shaken Charlie’s hand, and then he and Magic had turned and headed through the terminal. When they’d gone about five feet, Magic had turned once, giving Charlie a wild grin.
“And everybody says I’m crazy. I don’t hold a candle to you, kid.”
And just like that, they were gone. Charlie had been about to head back to Jeremy, to tell him what had happened, when a hand touched his shoulder. He turned to see Sam standing next to him. Before he was able to say a word, she grabbed him in a warm hug. Sparks exploded inside his chest at her touch, that inexplicable feeling burning bright, then floating away. Cheek pressed against his, she suddenly whispered in his ear:
“We’ll always have Incredo Land, right, Charlie?”
When she pulled away, she laughed at herself, then pointed a finger at him.
“And what happens in Incredo Land, stays in Incredo Land.”
With that, she’d headed after Finn and Magic, leaving Charlie standing there, wondering what the heck she’d meant, or what, exactly, he had felt when she’
d hugged him. In the end, he’d decided not to dwell on any of it; Sam was right. What happened in Incredo Land, stayed in Incredo Land. Sure, back at Nagassack, he’d see them all again. After all, it was middle school, everyone knew everyone, and they all ate lunch in the same place, even if at different hours. Sooner or later, they would run into one another. But it wouldn’t be the same. We’ll always have Incredo Land.
BEN MEZRICH graduated magna cum laude from Harvard in 1991. Since then he has published twelve books, including the New York Times bestsellers The Accidental Billionaires, which was adapted into the Academy Award–winning film The Social Network, and Bringing Down the House, which has sold more than two million copies in fifteen languages and became the basis for the Kevin Spacey movie 21. He has also published the national bestsellers Ugly Americans, Rigged, and Busting Vegas. He lives in Boston.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2014 by Ben Mezrich
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The text for this book is set in Life.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Mezrich, Ben, 1969–
Bringing down the mouse / Ben Mezrich. — First edition.
pages cm
Summary: A mathematically gifted sixth-grader is recruited by a group of students to game the system at the biggest theme park in the world—and win the big prize.
ISBN 978-1-4424-9626-2 (hardcover) — ISBN 978-1-4424-9632-3 (eBook)
[1. Mathematics—Fiction. 2. Amusement parks—Fiction. 3. Genius—Fiction. 4. Conduct of life—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.M5753Br 2014
[Fic]—dc23
2013027538
