‘Of course it’s safe,’ I tell him. ‘If someone was going to discover us here instead of in our beds, don’t you think they would have done it by now?’
‘But what if someone is listening?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ted. Who in their right mind would be outside a tree house, in the dark, listening to our conversation? Besides, if that were the case, Mischief would have bailed them up way before now.’
Ted is acting very strangely. It is not like him at all.
‘So what’s the deal with your face?’ I ask him.
Ted sighs. ‘The doctor said it could be nerves, or an allergic reaction to something. I think it’s nerves myself. In fact, I’m sure of it.’
‘And since when have you become the self-diagnosis expert?’
‘Since I got this.’ He pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.
I shine my torch on it.
It is a message. A coded message.
‘It’s something bad,’ says Ted worriedly. ‘I just know it.’
‘How do you know? You haven’t even worked out the code yet.’
‘I don’t need to,’ says Ted. ‘The bike is proof enough.’
‘You’re not making any sense. What does any of this have to do with a bike?’
‘Well, that’s where I found the message,’ explains Ted. ‘Next to my bike. Except that my bike no longer has tyres. They’ve been slashed to ribbons.’
CHAPTER 4
I have to break the code and I have to break it fast. Ted’s life could depend on it. His face already does. It’s starting to puff up again. And he’s scratching like crazy. Red dots are popping up all over the place. It’s not a good look, trust me.
I stare at the message, coded in numbers:
43 968 46 66 66639
2247 9687 3323 6338
But nothing hits me.
My heart is beating like a drum in my chest. It’s the pressure of the situation. Coded messages are pretty tricky, you know. I need complete silence. Concentration is vital.
‘What if it’s a death threat?’ asks Ted anxiously.
‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,’ I tell him.
‘What if I am a marked boy?’ There is panic in Ted’s voice now. He is itching like crazy.
‘Shut up, will you? Can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate?’
Then I notice something. Why didn’t I see it before?
‘Look at this,’ I say to Ted.
‘What is it?’
But I am on the move. I race over to the drawers in the corner of the tree house. I open them, one by one.
The first one has the nibbly things: packets of Smarties, mini Snickers and Crunchies. A few Chuppa Chups. Some chips.
No, not what I am looking for.
The second one has the clothes: old T-shirts, shorts, jocks, socks. There is also a lightweight jumper. There were two, but I am now wearing one over my soggy pyjamas.
No. Still not what I am looking for.
I open the third and final drawer. This one has stationery: pencils and textas, notepads, a rubber, some white-out. It also has a special compartment for the old mobile phone his mother gave him. And … yes … there’s what I’m looking for!
‘What are you doing, Brain?’ asks Ted. He seems more worried than ever now.
I frown. ‘Something funny is going on here,’ I tell him.
‘What do you mean?’
I show him the piece of paper I have just retrieved from the drawer: one of his dad’s letterheads.
It is blank, except for his dad’s company logo in the top left-hand corner: a printed picture of a house with the words D & A Builders in small black letters underneath.
Then I show him the crumpled piece of paper with the coded message on it, and point to the top left-hand corner.
‘Notice anything?’
‘No,’ says Ted quickly. His face is very red now.
‘I do. This coded message was written on your dad’s letterhead, the same letterhead that is in the third drawer over there, except that someone has whited-out the company logo.’
‘So?’ says Ted.
‘So, why would someone bother to climb all the way up to your tree house, write a coded message on paper they found in the third drawer, white-out your dad’s company logo, then race all the way back down, slash the tyres on your bike, and leave the message behind?’
Ted is stunned. He has no answer. It is no wonder. He looks awful. Like a puffer fish with red dots all over it. He’s sweating, too.
The code. I have to work it out. And I have to do it fast!
CHAPTER 5
Think simple.
I write down the letters of the alphabet, then put the numbers from one to twenty-six underneath:
I try to match them up with the code.
But nothing makes sense.
I stare at the numbers. What am I missing?
Then I realise. The numbers in the coded message are all between 2 and 9. Why would that be?
Suddenly it hits me like a bolt of lightning.
I race back to the drawers and go to the third one. I pull out the old mobile phone. It doesn’t work. But it doesn’t have to. I just need to look at it.
Yes! I’ve got something!
Under each number on the phone is a set of letters, the first beneath number 2 and the last beneath number 9.
I write down each number, then the letters underneath, exactly as it looks on the phone:
But nothing stands out. It’s just a mumbo jumbo of letters.
Suddenly I have a thought!
I draw some lines under each set of numbers. Then, where the number repeats itself, I put a letter from under the corresponding number on the phone, to see if anything makes sense.
But nothing does. Well, not yet, anyway.
I fiddle around a bit. Try a few different things.
Yes! The words are starting to take shape.
Suddenly I have it! I have broken the code!
I am too stunned to speak. The words won’t form in my mouth.
I take a deep breath and try to regain a modicum of calm. It is the only way I am going to get to the bottom of this.
‘Whoever wrote this is a shocking speller,’ I say to Ted, then I show him the decoded message.
It says:
If You Go On Money Bags
Your Dead Meet
‘That is not how you spell you’re,’ I tell him. ‘Well it is, but not in this instance. And meet should be meat, not meet.’
I look at Ted. But he is looking straight at the floor. He can’t even look me in the eye.
‘There is only one person I know who could spell as badly as this.’
Ted says nothing.
I am shocked. I am not sure what to think. But one thing is certain: I am not impressed. Not one little bit.
How could Ted do this? Why would he do this?
I shine my torch in his face. I don’t care if he has spots in front of his eyes for a month.
‘Okay Ted,’ I say as calmly as I can. ‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do.’
CHAPTER 6
I am fiddling with my torch. So far I’ve flicked it on and off twenty-seven times. It’s pretty boring, I can tell you.
Mischief is still snoring on her beanbag, oblivious to the whole situation.
And Ted? Well he’s doing the Cone of Silence thing. Not one word has come out of his mouth since I decoded his ridiculous message. I still can’t believe it. I mean, why? What possessed Ted to do such an idiotic thing?
‘It’s okay, Ted,’ I say finally. ‘I just want to understand what’s going on, that’s all.’
Ted looks at me, guilt written all over his face.
‘I’m really sorry, Brain,’ he says softly. ‘Things didn’t work out quite the way I’d hoped.’
‘“Quite the way you’d hoped”? What is that supposed to mean?’
‘It’s Money Bags,’ he sighs. ‘I can’t go on national tel
evision in front of all those people. I just can’t.’
‘That’s what this is all about?’
Ted nods. ‘What if I get the very first question wrong? What if I make a total idiot of myself?’
‘Been there, done that,’ I joke, as thoughts of the little Quizzical incident come flooding back. Then I have a bit of a chuckle to myself. It’s funny how you can laugh about things later.
But Ted doesn’t smile. Not even a little bit. He is too busy flicking his torch on and off. It is really annoying. I wish the battery would run out.
He lets out a huge sigh.
‘The more I thought about Money Bags, the more worried I got,’ he says mournfully. ‘And the next thing I know my face is all puffy, I’ve got red spots popping up all over the place and I can’t stop itching for the life of me.’
‘That doesn’t explain everything else,’ I say.
‘Don’t you see? It should be you going on Money Bags, Brain, not me! You’re the smartest kid in the school. Everybody knows it.’
‘That may be, Ted, but it was you who won Quizzical for us. If anyone deserves a chance on Money Bags, it’s you.’
‘Yeah, and we all know why I won Quizzical for us, don’t we? Because of you. How often did we go over those practice questions? If you hadn’t annoyed the heck out of me with all that studying beforehand, I wouldn’t have known a thing, let alone the colours of the rainbow. Besides, on Quizzical I had you and Harriet. This time it’s only me. I can’t do it, Brain, I really can’t!’
‘So you went to all this trouble just to get out of Money Bags?’
Ted nods. ‘I figured that if Mrs Gribble thought someone was out to get me, and that I was so stressed, then she would make you go on Money Bags instead. You weren’t supposed to go and figure everything out, Brain.’
‘But slashing your bike tyres, Ted? And the coded message? Don’t you think you were being just a little melodramatic?’
‘I suppose,’ says Ted quietly. ‘I rode over some broken glass by accident yesterday, so both my tyres were flat anyway. And the coded message … well, that just seemed like a good idea at the time. I should have known I wouldn’t get anything past you.’
I give Ted a gentle pat on the back.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ I reassure him. ‘I’m going to see to it.’
‘You are?’
‘By the time I’m finished with you, Ted, you’ll be in tip-top condition and raring to go on Money Bags.’
‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that.’
‘Come on, just think of it as another one of life’s little adventures.’
Ted looks at me, defeated.
‘This is one of life’s little adventures I could really do without,’ he sighs.
CHAPTER 7
I am right in the middle of breakfast when Mum comes storming into the kitchen, holding socks in one hand and pyjamas in the other.
I recognise them immediately.
‘Brain Davis,’ she snaps. ‘Look at these socks! They’re filthy. And they’re wet. Not to mention the state of the pyjamas. You’d better have a good explanation!’
Dad has his nose stuck firmly in the sports pages of the paper. It would take more than Mum’s ranting and raving to budge it, I can assure you.
Mum, on the other hand just stands there, hands on hips, eyes boring into me.
‘Well?’
‘Ah yes, those. I, er … well, that would be from this morning.’
‘This morning?’
‘I … er … well, I was up bright and early, so I went out to get the paper. You know, to save Dad the trouble. Except that it wasn’t there, so I decided to play with Mischief instead, except that we got a bit carried away and I slipped over on the grass.’
I hate to tell little white lies, but sometimes they are absolutely, positively, unavoidable. Really.
Mum gives me a look that suggests she is not quite sure about my story.
‘Well, I think that was very thoughtful of you, son,’ says Dad, as he pulls his nose away from the paper long enough to stuff a bit of toast in his mouth. ‘What’s a bit of washing, after all?’
‘What’s a bit of washing?’ says Mum crossly. ‘The point is, Brain shouldn’t be outside in his socks at all.’
‘Your mother’s right, Brain. Next time try to stay off the grass, okay? Especially if it’s wet.’
‘Otherwise you’ll be doing the washing,’ adds Mum.
‘Sure,’ I say brightly. Then I excuse myself from the table and head for the front door.
‘I’ll be at Ted’s if anyone needs me,’ I say quickly, then I race outside before either of them can think of any chores for me to do.
Ted is pigging out on Choc Puffs when I get to his place. There are four boxes sitting on the table in front of him.
‘Are you sure four boxes is enough?’ I ask sarcastically.
‘Very funny,’ says Ted between mouthfuls. ‘I’m not going to eat all the Choc Puffs right now.’
‘Oh, I get it, you just like looking at them.’
‘Nope.’
‘You’re worried the supermarket might run out?’
‘Nope.’
‘What then?’
‘There’s a competition inside.’
‘Oh, right. You’ve bought four boxes of …’
‘Actually, Mum did.’
‘Fine. Your mum bought four boxes of Choc Puffs just so you could enter a competition.’
Ted nods.
‘You can win a ticket to Puzzle Palace.’
‘What? Puzzle Palace! You’re kidding?’
Puzzle Palace is the great new theme park that Henry Daram is building. He’s the bloke that Daramour is named after. Well, it was his family, actually. They were the first to settle here, and they still own most of it, according to Dad.
Anyway, it’s all very hush hush. My dad works at a place called Clear Away. He has a really important job managing industrial waste bins, and he just had three of them delivered to the Puzzle Palace building site.
One of the workers gave him a sneak look at the plans.
Imagine a two-storey mansion made to look like a palace, complete with high walls like you’d find around the real thing. And get this! Inside each room you have to complete a puzzle before you can get out.
There are secret rooms, too. Awesome, hey!
Dad reckons kids are going to love it when it’s finished. He reckons their parents are going to love it even more, though, because once their kids go in and see how great it is, they probably won’t ever want to come out!
I grab one of the Choc Puff boxes and read the back excitedly. It says:
Are you smart?
Do you like puzzles?
Then you could win!!!
It’s easy!! There are five puzzles —
A different one in every box of choc puffs.
Complete all five and you could be one of five kids to be the first to see inside
Puzzle Palace!!!
Wow! The first to see inside Puzzle Palace! That’s awesome!
‘Pity you don’t like Choc Puffs,’ says Ted. ‘Then you could have entered the competition, too.’
I stare at Ted, open-mouthed.
‘Couldn’t you just give me some of the puzzles out of yours?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Sorry,’ says Ted, shaking his head. ‘No can do. I’ve finally found three boxes with a different puzzle inside each one. Do you know how many boxes of Choc Puffs we had to buy? And I still only found three of the puzzles.’
‘But what about Money Bags, Ted? I thought after our little chat last night that it would be your top priority.’
‘Well, yes, it is. This Puzzle Palace thing is just a distraction technique. You know, to take my mind off certain things. You said distractions were good, remember?’
‘Yes Ted, I did say that, but I didn’t mean to focus your mind on something else entirely. How about you keep your mind on Money Bags and let me worry about the Puzzle Palace competit
ion?’
Ted quickly gets up from the table, grabs the boxes of Choc Puffs and throws them in a nearby cupboard.
‘There! I’ve got my attention off Puzzle Palace. Happy now?’
‘How about you just give me the puzzles for safe-keeping?’
‘Aha! I know what you’re up to,’ says Ted. ‘If you want to enter the Puzzle Palace competition, Brain, then you’ll have to go and buy your own boxes of Choc Puffs.’
‘How about I just get a start on them for you?’
Ted shakes his head.
‘I know you, Brain, and there is no way you could just get a start on them. You’d have them finished in no time. There are some things I need to do for myself, you know.’
‘Oh well, how about we get started on our preparations for Money Bags then?’
‘What, right now?’
‘Of course. There’s no time like the present, Ted.’
‘Er … I think Mum has something planned. I, um … we’re going to buy some new school shoes. As a matter of fact we’re leaving in just a few minutes to make it down the street before the shops close.’
‘It’s a good thing we’re neighbours then, isn’t it? I’ll come over later and we can start then.’
‘Great,’ sighs Ted. ‘I can hardly wait.’
I am playing with Mischief on the front step when Mum comes out, car keys dangling from a finger.
‘Need anything at the supermarket, Brain?’
My eyes light up.
‘Actually, do you think you could bring back some Choc Puffs?’
‘Choc Puffs!’ Mum exclaims, surprised. ‘Since when do you eat Choc Puffs? What about the 11 grams of sugar, and the 169 milligrams of sodium that you’re always on at Ted about?’
‘Yes, but they also have calcium for strong bones and teeth, B vitamins to help release energy from food, iron to help carry oxygen around the body for daily activity, and don’t forget …’
‘Okay darling, I believe you,’ says Mum.
‘Do you think you might be able to get a few boxes of them while you’re at it? Come to think of it, you may as well make it a whole trolley load.’
‘What? A trolley load of Choc Puffs? Brain, are you okay?’
Money Bags Page 2
