The Journal of Curious Letters 1r-1

by James Dashner

  Silence filled the school, but he could still hear a muted ringing in his ears, like the tolling of death bells.

  Chapter 18

  Edgar the Wise

  Tick crouched on the floor of the hallway, panting for several minutes, exhausted and unable to move another inch. He kept looking at the crack under the bathroom door, sure the Tingle Wraith would follow him, but nothing came out. Mothball had told him the Wraiths couldn’t move very much once they were positioned and formed. Their weapon was the Death Siren.

  He finally stood, his nerves and heart settling back to normalcy, filled with relief. Tick felt sure the creature had gone away. Shaking his head as he remembered the horrible feeling of running through the Wraith, he set off for home, knowing what he had to do.

  It was time to have a little chat with Dad.

  The next few hours seemed to take days. Tick did his best to act normal: showering to wash away the icky feel of the Tingle Wraith, joking around with Mom and Lisa, playing with Kayla, reading. When his dad finally came home from work, Tick wanted to take him up to his room right that minute and spill the whole story. He couldn’t do this alone anymore. He needed support, and Sofia was just too far away.

  But Tick had to wait even longer because after dinner, Dad challenged Tick to a game of Scrabble, which he usually loved, but tonight seemed to drag on longer than ever before. To liven things up, he put down the word “kyoopy,” at which his dad had a fit, demanding a challenge. Tick held in a snicker as he lost the challenge and had to remove the word, losing his turn. He still won by forty-three points.

  Finally, as they were cleaning up the game, Tick managed to casually ask his dad to come up to his room for a minute.

  “What’s going on, son?” his dad asked, sitting on Tick’s bed, one leg folded up under the other. “You’ve been acting a little strange lately.”

  Tick paused, running through the decision one last time in his head. This was it, no turning back. He couldn’t tell his dad about everything tonight and then say he was kidding tomorrow.

  All or nothing, now or never.

  He chose all and now.

  “Dad, there’s a good reason I’ve been acting so crazy.” Tick leaned down and pulled his Journal of Curious Letters from underneath the bed where he’d stowed it away that morning. “Remember that letter I got a few weeks ago? The one from Alaska?”

  “Yeah. Let me guess-it wasn’t from a nice Pen Pal buddy?”

  “No, it was from a stranger, saying he was going to send me a bunch of clues in hopes I could figure out something important that could end up saving a bunch of people.” He paused, expecting his dad to say something, but he only got a blank look, ready to hear more. “I thought it was a joke at first, but then weird things started happening-like the Gnat Rat-and I started receiving the clues and I’ve met some very interesting people and I believe it’s true, Dad. I know it’s true.”

  Tick expected a laugh, a chastisement, a lecture on not playing make-believe when you’re thirteen years old. But his heart lifted at his dad’s next words.

  “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”

  And Tick did.

  It took thirty minutes, and Tick showed his dad every page and note of his journal, hiding nothing, repeating every word he could remember of his conversations with Mothball and Rutger. He told it all, and when he finished, he felt like three loads of concrete had been lifted from his chest.

  His dad held the journal in his hands, staring at the front cover for a long minute. Tick waited anxiously, hoping with all his heart that his dad would believe him and offer help.

  “Tick, you’re my son, and I love you more than anything in this world. This family is the only thing in the universe I give a crying hoot about and I’d do anything for any one of you guys. But I need some time to digest this, okay?”

  Tick nodded.

  “I’m going to take your journal. I’m going to study it tonight. And I’m going to think long and hard about everything you’ve told me. Tomorrow night, we’ll meet again right here in this very spot. And if anything weird or dangerous happens, you find me, you call me, whatever you have to do. Deal?”

  “Deal. Just let me copy down the fourth clue so I can work on it while you have my book.”

  When he was finished, the two hugged, his dad left the room, and Tick fell asleep with no problem at all.

  The next night, Tick sat at his desk in the soft golden glow of his lamp, studying the fourth clue he’d scribbled on a piece of paper, waiting for his dad to come. Something about this riddle made him think it wasn’t as hard as it first seemed, and he read it again, thinking carefully about each word.

  The place is for you to determine and can be in your hometown. I only ask that the name of the place begin with a letter coming after A and before Z but nowhere in between. You are allowed to have people there with you, as many as you like, as long as they are dead by the time you say the magic words. But, by the Wand, make sure that you are not dead, of course. That would truly throw a wrinkle into our plans.

  Tick closed his eyes and thought.

  It really came down to two hints: the letter the place begins with and the thing about dead people. The word that kept popping into his mind when he thought about the latter was cemetery. It matched the clue perfectly-a lot of people would be there and they’d all be dead. The way M.G. worded it made it sound like Tick would have to kill people or something, but he obviously didn’t mean that, it was just a clever twist of language. The place where he was supposed to go on May sixth had to be a cemetery.

  And yet, what about the letter it begins with? After A and before Z, but nowhere in between…

  “Son?”

  Tick snapped back to reality and turned to see his dad standing in the doorway. “Hi, Dad.” He stood from his desk chair and went over to sit on the bed, in the same position as last night. A surge of anxiety swelled in his chest, hope and fear battling over his emotions as he awaited the verdict.

  His dad joined him, a somber look on his face, his eyes staring at the Journal of Curious Letters gripped in both of his hands. “Tick, I’ve read through this a million times and thought about it all day.” He finally looked at his son.

  “And you think I’m psycho.” Tick was amazed that at the same time he could both want and not want his dad to tell him what he thought of everything.

  “No, not at all. I believe it. All of it.”

  Tick couldn’t suppress the huge grin that shot across his face. “Really?”

  His dad nodded. “There’s something I didn’t tell you last night. I, uh, saw you talking to the little man you called Rutger. I saw for myself he was real. And the whole thing about those gnats. I can’t get that out of my mind. Then there’s the letter from Alaska. I know you don’t know anyone up there.” He shook his head. “It’s a lot of evidence, son. A lot.”

  “So you-”

  His dad held up a hand, cutting off Tick. “But that’s not why I’m convinced.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No.” His dad leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Tick, I’ve known you for thirteen years, and I can’t think of a time when you’ve ever lied to me. You’re too smart to lie, too good of a person. I trust you, and as I looked into your eyes as you told me this crazy story, I knew it was true. Now, I wanted some time to think about it and such, but I knew.”

  Tick wanted to say something cheesy and profound, but all that came out was, “Cool.”

  His dad laughed. “Yeah, cool. I can feel it deep down that this is important and that you were chosen to help because you’re a special kid. There’s always been something almost magical about you, Tick, and I think I knew that someday your life would take a turn for the unique. We’ve never really talked about it, but I’ve always felt like you had a guardian angel or some kind of special gift. These letters and clues and all this weird stuff has to be related somehow.”

  Tick didn’t really know what his dad was talking about,
and didn’t care-he was too excited about finally having someone nearby who knew what was going on. “So you’ll help me figure it out?”

  “Now, maybe I can help a little here and there with the riddles but”-he pointed a finger at Tick-“you better believe I’m going to be the toughest bodyguard anyone’s ever had. All this dangerous stuff scares me too, you know?” He reached out and gave his patented bear hug, then leaned back. “So where do we go from here?”

  Tick shrugged. “I guess we just keep getting the clues and hope we can figure everything out by May sixth.”

  His dad scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Yeah…” He seemed doubtful or troubled.

  “What?”

  “I was thinking maybe this M.G. guy expects you to be a little more proactive. You know, dig a little deeper to find out what’s going on.”

  “Dad, I can tell you’re thinking really hard ’cause it looks like you might bust a vein.”

  His dad ignored the joke. “You have two weeks off from school for Christmas, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And I have plenty of vacation time…” He paused. “But what would we do about your mom? I don’t want her involved in this. She’d worry herself to the deathbed quicker than she can make a batch of peanut-butter cookies.”

  “Dad, what are you talking about?”

  His dad’s eyes focused on Tick. “I think we should do a little investigating.”

  “Investigating?”

  “Yeah.” He reached out and squeezed Tick’s shoulder. “In Alaska.”

  By the next evening, Edgar had it all arranged, in no small part due to his clever and cunning mind, he kept telling himself. After using the Internet to discover that Macadamia, Alaska, was only three hours’ drive from where his Aunt Mabel lived in Anchorage, everything fell into place. Edgar hadn’t seen his aunt in years, and his mother had told him awhile back that Mabel’s health wasn’t doing so well. She’d stayed in Alaska even after her fisherman husband died over a decade ago, insisting that her failing heart, hemorrhoids, and severely bunion-infested feet would make a move impossible.

  The plan was set, the tickets purchased, the rental car reserved.

  In ten days, just after Christmas, Edgar and Tick would fly to Anchorage, Alaska, for a three-day visit with Aunt Mabel.

  Lorena had grilled Edgar on how crazy it sounded to go on vacation on such short notice, but Edgar played it cool, claiming he’d been thinking about his aunt ever since Tick had gotten the letter from Alaska. And the winter break gave them the perfect opportunity.

  He also used the excuse that because the tickets were expensive, only two people could afford to go. Plus Tick had been a baby the last time he had seen his great-aunt, so he didn’t know her at all. Kayla was too young to appreciate the trip, and Lorena and Lisa seemed more than pleased to not have to go to a bitterly cold land of ice and snow in the middle of winter when the sun would only peek above the horizon for a couple of hours a day. Finally, Edgar pulled out all the stops, asking Lorena if she really was in the mood to hear Mabel tell her the fifty top things she’d done wrong in her life.

  Lorena kissed Edgar and told him to have a good time.

  When Edgar told the news to his aunt over the phone, she almost blew up his left eardrum with her shrieks of excitement. Of course, she soon settled down and told him to be sure and bring lots of warm clothes, to remember his toothbrush, to have earmuffs for baby Atticus, and about one hundred other pieces of advice.

  All in all, the plan fell into place quite nicely.

  Edgar only hoped that once they got to Alaska, Mabel would quit talking long enough to allow them to investigate the town of Macadamia.

  Someone had sent that first letter.

  And Edgar meant to find out who.

  Chapter 19

  An Odd Christmas Present

  Tick had felt so relieved that his dad believed his story and wanted to help, the whole Alaska expedition didn’t really hit him until the next day when his dad told him he’d bought airline tickets. His dad seemed to think they could find out who mailed the original letter and get more information from him or her. Tick thought a trip to Alaska seemed plenty exciting all by itself, and he could barely stand having to wait ten more days.

  Every day of Christmas vacation, Tick and Sofia exchanged e-mails, finally getting into a consistent groove of answering questions and learning more about each other. Tick could tell Sofia was feisty and confident-not someone to mess with unless you wanted a nice kick to the shin, or worse. She was also very smart, and Tick rarely noticed a language barrier. He felt like they were similar in many ways and he found himself liking her very much. They even played chess online, though it took almost a week to finish one game because of the time difference.

  Sofia was the first to figure out the last piece of the fourth clue-the first letter of the special place. At first, Tick worried they were violating some rule by helping each other with the clues, but Sofia pointed out that none of the letters said they couldn’t. In her opinion, the guy in charge should be impressed they’d had the initiative to seek out others and collaborate.

  Tick felt dumb when Sofia told him the answer.

  I only ask that the name of the place begin with a letter coming after A and before Z but nowhere in between.

  Tick already suspected the clue pointed them to a cemetery, but it was Sofia who explained that cemetery began with a “C,” a letter that was certainly after A and before Z in the alphabet. Also, the letter was nowhere to be found in the word “between.” That’s what the sentence had meant, which now seemed painfully obvious to Tick.

  They wondered about which cemetery to go to, since any decent-sized town had more than one. But the wording of the clue made it clear that the particular place they went to didn’t matter, as long as it was a cemetery. Sofia would choose one in her hometown at the appointed time, and Tick would do likewise.

  Of course, both of them recognized how strange it was that they had to go to a graveyard but that it didn’t matter which one. But everything about the whole mess was odd, so they were getting used to it.

  Tick was really happy to have found Sofia; for the first time in a long while he felt like he had a friend. Yeah, she lived in Italy and liked to beat up boys, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He couldn’t wait to get the next clue and talk to her about it.

  On Christmas Day, he got his wish.

  It had been a perfect couple of days. Snow fell in billions of soft, fluffy flakes, blanketing the yard and the house in pure white, covering up the dirt and grime that had begun to show up after a couple of weeks without a fresh snowstorm. The classic songs of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra floated through the house like warm air from the fire. Tick’s mom went all out in the kitchen, cooking up everything from honey-baked ham to stuffed bell peppers, cheesy potatoes to fruit salad, chocolate-covered peanut butter balls to her famous Christmas cookies, which were full of coconut, butterscotch, pecans, walnuts, and several other yummy surprises.

  Tick was stuffed and happy, remembering once again why the holiday season had always been his favorite time of year. And it only helped matters that he’d be heading to Alaska in a couple of days. Life was sweet.

  After the hustle and buzz and laughter of Christmas morning, tattered wrapping paper lying about in big colorful piles, Tick sat back on the couch, staring at the new goodies he’d received: three video games, some new books, a couple of gift certificates, lots of candy. He usually felt a twinge of sadness once all the presents had been opened, knowing it would be 365 long days until the next Christmas. But today he felt none of that. He felt content and warm, excited and happy.

  The mystery of M.G. and his Twelve Clues had brought a new light to Tick’s life and, despite the dangers that came with the letters, he’d never felt more alive.

  He looked up at the decorated tree, its dozens of white lights sparkling their reflection in the red metallic balls and silver tinsel. Something square and bulky tucked beh
ind a large nutcracker ornament caught his attention. He’d looked at this seven-foot tree a thousand times in the last month, and he knew the thing buried in the branches hadn’t been there before this morning.

  Instantly alert, he looked around to see what his family was doing. His mom had her nose in a book, his dad was in the kitchen, Lisa had earphones on listening to her new CDs, and Kayla played with her kitchen set, making pretend pancakes and eggs. Trying to look nonchalant, Tick got up from the couch and walked over to the tree, staring at the spot that had caught his eyes.

  A box, wrapped in an odd paper with pictures of fairies and dwarves and dragons, was snuggled between two branches, held up by a string of lights. The words, “From M.G.” were clearly scrawled across the box in blue ink. Tick looked around one more time before he snatched the unopened present and stealthily placed it with his other things. Then, grabbing a big armful of stuff, including the mystery box, he headed upstairs to his room.

  He sat on his bed and stared at the strange wrapping paper. The present itself was very light and he felt certain the next clue must lie inside. But who had put it there, and when? He ripped the paper off a plain white cardboard box. After flipping open the lid, Tick saw exactly what he’d expected.

  The fifth clue. He pulled out the cardstock paper and read the message.

  Everything will fail unless you say the magic words exactly correct. It behooves me to remind you that I cannot tell you the words, nor will I in the face of any amount of undue pressure you may apply toward me. Which, of course, would be quite difficult for you to do since you don’t know who I am and since I live in a place you cannot go.

  Best of luck, old chap.

  Tick read the clue a couple more times, then glued the cardstock into his journal. He thought about the trick used in the fourth clue with the word between. Something similar could be happening here.