by Wendy Mass
AJ nodded. “I know what you mean about this place. I was watching the Candymaker’s son and that kid with the backpack before you arrived this morning. They seemed so normal. I kind of envied them. And you know, with Logan’s, um, condition, you wouldn’t think he’d be someone to envy.”
“Exactly!” Daisy said. “That’s what I mean about him. There’s something inside him that just erases everything on the outside.”
They sat there for a minute, watching the boats bob on the water. Out of the corner of her eye Daisy saw a flash of black, yellow, and red fly past the bench and out toward the water. She didn’t know butterflies could fly so quickly. It made her want to be up and running through the fields or riding Magpie. She watched the butterfly skim over the water until Fran approached and blocked her view.
“Hi, Daisy! And who’s this handsome young man?”
Snapping back to attention, she joked, “Well, I don’t know about handsome, since he’s my cousin. His name is Bo.”
Fran extended her hand, and instead of shaking it, AJ kissed the back of it.
“Oh!” Fran giggled. “Nice to meet you, Bo. Your family must be very proud of Daisy. She’s the best taffy stretcher I’ve seen in years.”
“Oh, we are! We’re very proud of our little Oopsa.” AJ put his arm around Daisy’s shoulder and squeezed.
“And she lights up a room, doesn’t she?” Fran asked.
“That she does, that she does.”
“Well,” Daisy said, standing. She was eager to end this exchange. “I better get back. I don’t have much more time to create my contest-winning candy.”
“I hope you’ll consider putting taffy in it,” Fran said.
“Absolutely!” Daisy promised.
AJ rose, too, and they started back toward the factory. “So I’m Cousin Bo now? That’s the best you could come up with?”
“I think the name suits you,” Daisy replied, tossing her sandwich wrapper into a nearby garbage can.
“Yeah, if I pulled motorcycles with my teeth, maybe.”
Daisy laughed, then grew serious. “AJ, are we, you know, trapped in our jobs? I mean, this is all we’ve ever done. Do you sometimes want to just be a normal guy, go to a real school, that sort of thing?”
He shook his head. “I love traveling all over and meeting all kinds of people. Next year I’ll go off to college, and after that, right back to Spring Haven. This is what I’m good at. And as much as it pains me to admit it, you’re very good at it, too. You just have to find a way to make it work for you, where you’re comfortable. You can’t take a job and then sabotage it.”
Daisy nodded. “I know. It’s just that this time is different. I feel the closest to the real Daisy here.” She lowered her head. “Not that I even know who that is.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I don’t even know my last name,” she whispered.
“It’s Dinkleman.”
Daisy stopped short. “What?”
“Your last name. It’s Dinkleman.”
Her jaw fell open. “I’m Daisy Dinkleman?”
“No, I was just kidding. I have no idea.”
She punched him in the arm.
“Ow!” he said, rubbing it. “You don’t know your own strength.”
“Yes,” she assured him, “I do.”
“Okay, to make up for kidding you about your name, I’ll tell you a real secret that you should probably know.”
They were at the back door now and stepped to the side so others could get past.
She narrowed her eyes. “For real?”
“For real.” He took a deep breath. “When you were three years old, your parents were stuck in Italy on a job during your birthday, so everyone agreed not to tell you it was your birthday. You were too young to notice anyway. The following year, when you turned four, you thought you were turning three. No one had the heart to correct you and tell you about the missing birthday.”
Daisy stared in disbelief. “I missed a birthday? That means I’m… thirteen?”
He nodded. “Yup. A full-fledged teenager.”
“You are KIDDING me!”
“I kid you not.”
She fumed. “But why didn’t they tell me after all this time?”
He shrugged. “Spies aren’t known for being honest. Maybe they weren’t ready for Daisy Dinkleman, Teenage Girl.”
She kicked him.
“Hey! What’s with the violence?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m a teenager, right? We’re famous for being moody and lashing out at those closest to us.”
He followed her inside the factory, limping. “I’m sorry I even told you.”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “This place has me all mixed up.”
“You probably shouldn’t come in,” she said, reaching out to keep the door from closing. “I want to see if the Cocoa Room is empty, and I don’t want to have to introduce everyone to Cousin Bo.”
He nodded and slipped back outside. Before the door closed, he pulled a small white flower from the closest bush and tossed it to her. “Happy third birthday.”
She shoved it into her pocket and turned away. Thirteen! Her parents would have a lot of explaining to do when they returned from wherever they were.
The candymaking machines were all running at full force, and Daisy couldn’t help stopping to sniff the air outside each room she passed. The smell of chocolate from the Cocoa Room was, not surprisingly, the strongest of all. She was dismayed to find not only Steve and Lenny in the room but the bowling-pin candymaker as well. Squaring her shoulders, she ducked her head in and said, “Hey, guys! Want me to watch the place again while you go eat?”
“No, thanks,” Lenny said, holding up a hot dog. “We’re all set.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, then.” She stepped back out to the hall, letting the door swing shut in front of her. At least she could assume that if the visitors were indeed trying to get the secret ingredient, they hadn’t done so yet. Otherwise they wouldn’t still be hanging out in the room.
A few minutes later, she entered the lab, only to duck back out again. She checked the sign next to the door. CANDY LABORATORY. Yup, this was the right place. But somehow, during the time she’d been out, walls had grown up around each person’s station.
Tentatively, she pushed the door open. The whole room looked different, like an office in some busy company. She’d miss seeing everyone’s faces. Well, almost everyone’s.
Voices drifted from Philip’s station. “But how will I keep it in the right shape?”
“You’re going to have to form them by hand for now,” Max said. “It would take too long to make a mold.”
She couldn’t believe it! Philip had actually asked for help! She stood there in amazement until Logan and Miles arrived. As annoying as it was to be closed off from the others, Daisy had to admit she could use the privacy.
Her pocketbook vibrated a little while later, and she was grateful for the thick walls. She pulled out her comm device and opened it. Grammy’s face popped up from her home office.
“Oh, hi, Grammy,” Daisy said in a tentative whisper. She wasn’t prepared for the wave of guilt that ran through her when she saw that cheery smile. Daisy quickly scanned what she could see of her grandmother’s desk to make sure she had left everything exactly as she’d found it. Looked good.
“Hi, honey. Is this a safe time?”
Daisy nodded, holding the book up in front of her face in case anyone peeked in. “We just have to be really quiet. When did you get back?”
“Just a few minutes ago,” Grammy whispered. “I ran into the twins, and they said you weren’t in your room this morning. Is everything okay?”
Daisy nodded again. “I was in the library doing research. You know, on candy stuff.” At least that wasn’t exactly a lie.
Her grandmother laughed softly. “You sound like you’re actually planning on participating in the contest.”
Daisy blushed but didn’t know how to answer. Was she really planning on entering?
“Surely you’ll have completed your mission before then. You know our motto: get in, get it done, get out.”
“I know, Grammy.”
“Daisy!” Max said, peering over the side of her cube. “Do I need to take that book away? It’s for your own good.”
“No, sir,” she said. She mouthed a goodbye to her grandmother and slipped the book back into her bag.
Max smiled his approval and moved on. Whether or not she went through with the contest, she needed to make it look like she was working on something. She spread out all the ingredients and equipment and started playing. Add a dab of cream, a spritz of lime, a tablespoon of maple-flavored nougat, a dribble of caramel, two marshmallows, and voilà! A green glob of goop!
She tore off a small chunk and tasted it. Not bad. It had a nice feel to it, smooth, but thick. Still, something was clearly missing. She stuck her hands in her pockets to think. Her fingers touched something soft, and she pulled out the flower AJ had tossed her earlier.
“Hey, Max!” she called out. “C’mere.”
“You bellowed?” Max asked, appearing at her side.
Daisy held up the flower. “Is this edible? I wouldn’t want to poison the judges.”
“That would not go over well,” Max agreed. “Your flower is fine. Most flowers are actually edible. A little goes a long way, so you wouldn’t want to overpower your—” He glanced down at her tabletop. “Your uh… whatever that is. I have a book in the back that will teach you how to prepare it.”
For the next two hours Daisy worked on perfecting her candy and checking on the status of the Cocoa Room. Every time she went there, people were going in and out. A few times she passed Philip in the hall, either coming from somewhere or heading somewhere, she couldn’t tell. Once he almost looked as if he were going to say something to her, but then he turned away and pretended to be fascinated with the statue of the first Candymaker.
AJ had kept quiet most of the afternoon, but after Daisy’s third failed trip to the Cocoa Room, he said, “I think you’re just going to have to get it after the factory closes.”
“I think you’re right,” she said, ducking into a bathroom to talk. “I don’t really want to go home, though. I’m afraid my grandmother’s going to figure it out somehow.”
“You’ve got to tell her eventually.”
“I know. Just not yet.”
“Well, where are you going to go, then?”
“I could hide in that storeroom I found yesterday. With the rubber ducks. ”
“Too risky. You need to make sure people see you leave. I’ll pick you up in one of the cars. We’ll walk around town or something.”
“Roger that,” she said. The door of the bathroom swung open, and one of the candymakers from the S’mores Room came in.
“Daisy!” she said. “How’s it going? Are you excited about tomorrow? The convention is always a great time.”
“I’m totally excited!” Daisy replied.
“I’ll be there, too. All of us in the S’mores Room are rooting for you.”
“Thanks! I’ll see you then.”
AJ laughed. When she was safely out in the hall she said, “What’s so funny?”
“Daisy, you’re not going to that contest. Once you have the secret ingredient and you’ve done your diabolical deed, your job is over.”
“I’ll see you out front at five” was all she said.
At 8:00 P.M. sharp, Daisy slipped through the door that connected the tunnel to the factory. She withdrew the wax key she’d made and pushed it into her front pocket. “I’m in,” she whispered to AJ, who was hiding back up in his tree. “Like I said before, all I’ll need is twenty minutes to get in, do what I need to do, and get out.” She patted her back pocket, where she’d stored the foul-tasting ingredient in a small plastic bag.
“That’s all well and good, but I’m still mad at you for telling those kids I pull motorcycles with my teeth.”
She laughed. “I thought we settled that over hot dogs in the park! I explained I was getting you back for making me pretend to be mute for two weeks.”
“But that was seven years ago!”
“I have a long memory. Now can we move on, please? Did the car leave yet?”
“Yes. Miles’s parents are out of the driveway. Give Mrs. Sweet ten minutes to get back to the apartment before moving.”
She pressed herself against the cool limestone wall, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the near darkness. She had her pen with her, which would illuminate the entire place if she switched it on. But that was only for emergencies, since it was bright enough to be seen from miles away. She rarely needed to use it, since all the spies in the mansion had been trained from early on to have excellent night vision. It only took her a minute to expand her pupils well enough to see.
“Okay,” AJ said. “Get moving, but stay close to the walls.”
She crept down the hall, her sneakers making no sound. The factory felt so different at night. She hadn’t realized how noisy it was until the machines weren’t running. Occasionally she’d pass a room where a fan rotated overhead or a heating unit clicked on or off, but that was pretty much it. The air still smelled sweet, though.
She reached the Cocoa Room and smiled. Finally! No one moved inside the room. Not Steve. Not Lenny. Not the Candymaker or his visitors or any of the zillion people who seemed to spend their day going in and out of that room. She slipped inside, nearly knocking over a pile of bean pods. Why would someone leave those right by the door? She steadied them and was about to move away when she heard noises out by the fountain. She quickly crouched behind a table. “Someone’s out there,” she whispered. “What if it’s one of the visiting candymakers?”
“Stay down,” he instructed. “It’s probably a janitor or a night watchman.” A minute later he asked, “Do you still hear anyone?”
“No.”
“Okay, keep moving, then.”
Staying low, Daisy began to creep down the long room. She’d gotten about halfway to the cabinet when the door swung open and a figure rushed in with a very weak flashlight. Not two steps later she heard a crash. Whoever it was must have tripped right over the cocoa pods. She wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. Too many machines separated the two of them, so she couldn’t see who it was. After a minute, she heard the person repile the pods.
She just had time to slide under a table as the person ran by her. All she could see was a pair of dirty sneakers. Man-sized sneakers. Okay, so she knew it was a man. She didn’t dare peek out to see his face, but judging by how quickly he moved, it probably wasn’t the older of the two visiting candymakers. Whichever one it was, he knew what he was looking for.
“Everything okay?” AJ asked. “I can’t hear you breathing.”
Daisy let out the breath she’d been holding, knowing he’d be able to pick up the sound. She couldn’t risk answering.
“Okay, at least I know you’re alive. I’ll assume you’re no longer alone. Don’t do anything rash. Stay hidden.”
But she couldn’t. She had to see this to its end. Ever so quietly, she began to crawl forward again, so low she was practically swimming across the floor. Squeaky-clean floors or not, she was going to need a long bath after this. She had to take the long way around the room in order to stay as close as possible to the tables without bumping them. The guy couldn’t know she was there until she wanted him to. Just as she thought it, her knee landed on something squishy that let out the tiniest of squeaks. She held her breath, but miraculously, the flashlight didn’t turn in her direction.
She pushed aside the squeaky thing and was only a few feet away from the figure when he suddenly turned toward the long window and shone the flashlight out into the entryway.
Amateur, Daisy thought. All he’d be able to see was his own reflection.
Time slowed as the faint flashlight beam turned back toward the cabinet.
Daisy allowed herself to hope that perhaps he’d give up and leave. No such luck. She saw him dig into his pocket and pull out some sort of pouch. He used a short, skinny tool to open the cabinet door. Laying the pouch down on the counter, he reached up and pulled out the tin from the top shelf. The time had come.
She sprang to her feet just as the flashlight beam shone directly in her eyes.
“Looking for this?” He held up the tin.
At first she was unable to see anything, since the light, which no longer seemed so weak, had momentarily blinded her. Perhaps this guy wasn’t such an amateur after all. But it took only a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.
Standing before her, his hand shaking ever so slightly, was the last person she expected to see. For what felt like an eternity, they stared at each other. AJ kept talking in her ear, asking what was going on, but she couldn’t focus on him.
In her head, she counted down: five… four… three… two… one.
Then she leapt.
PART FOUR
PHILIP
CHAPTER ONE
Philip had been awake for hours by the time his two alarm clocks rang. In fact, he had hardly slept all night. He’d been waiting for this day for years. Literally years. Ever since the day they kicked him out of the factory, he’d been looking for a way back in. Turned out all he had to do was turn twelve. Well, turn twelve and gain entry to the contest. He knew his essay would get him accepted. His English teacher once told him he could persuade an Eskimo to eat ice cream in the middle of winter.
Then there was the small matter of making sure Life Is Sweet was chosen to host some of the contestants before the contest. But that truly was a small matter. Philip only had to throw his dad’s name around and pull a few strings. And now, in a few hours he’d be strolling through that huge wooden door like he owned the place.
