“There’s others?”
“Patrick and Keith. They’re both clearheaded like us.”
Charlotte climbed up on her bed and looked back down over the edge. “I know I should feel horrible about being in such an awful spot, but for some reason I feel hopeful. I just can’t believe there are others like you who want out.”
Meghan smiled and her eyes shone. “That’s what your brother said.”
“I really hope he’s okay.”
“Me too,” Meghan replied. She then pushed her long hair back over her ears, turned around quickly, and made her way to her bed twelve bunks down.
As Charlotte lay in bed, her ears twitched. She had been under the fog of Marvin’s voice ever since she was brought back just over three days ago. Now, with a clearer head, her super hearing power was coming back. She could hear the sound of singing in the next room.
Charlotte plugged her ears and tried to fall asleep.
CHAPTER 16
PLAN T
Tobias didn’t sleep a wink. The image of an elderly Archie played over and over in his head like a horrible movie he couldn’t turn off or even turn down. It seemed impossible, but he had seen it with his own eyes. Still missing all the answers, he began to mentally piece together what might be happening.
“They find kids all over the world, bring them in, muck up their brains, and treat them mean. Then they let them go for a swim. Afterward, they age quickly and then Witherwood secretly takes care of them on the third floor. Not a really smart or sensible evil plan. Oh yeah, and they feed us pudding.”
Tobias tossed and turned on his cot. He stared at the wooden window and wanted to scream. Instead, he carefully wrote down all the things he had learned in the last few hours. He also began to brainstorm about a way out.
At 6:00 a.m. on the dot, Ms. Gulp unlocked door number seven and came stomping in. Tobias was lying on his cot, pretending to be dumb. It was the beginning of another day at Witherwood, but this day was going to be much different. Tobias knew that time was not on his side—new students were coming and that meant that something was going to happen to the current ones.
Luckily for all involved, Tobias had a plan.
Ms. Gulp pulled him off the cot, yelled at him until he was ready, and then escorted him to his chores.
While in the kitchen helping to make breakfast, Tobias tried his best to catch a glimpse of what Ms. Gulp did to the pudding. He felt strongly that the secret to what was happening might be made clear if he knew what the pudding possessed.
After doing the breakfast dishes, Tobias was served a large plate of scrambled eggs, cheese-covered potatoes, and a side of pudding. He knew the pudding was bad for him, but it still took every ounce of willpower he had not to eat it. He smeared his pudding around on his plate and covered it with a napkin. Then he took his own tray back to the kitchen and washed it off before anyone could discover he had skipped the most important part of his meal.
While Ms. Gulp was taking Tobias to his class, the intercom crackled to life. Following a long, painful screech, Orrin addressed the school.
“Attention, students, this announcement is to inform you that everything is fine. I repeat, all things are well in hand here. Any problem or difficulty you think you saw over the last couple of days has been taken care of. Things are in perfect harmony at Witherwood as we focus on caring and community and character. Again, everything is fine. That is all.”
“That man loves to hear himself speak,” Ms. Gulp said with a self-righteous sniff. “He’s four scoops of full-load.”
“I think he’s nice,” Tobias said, making sure to sound extra dumb.
“What would you know?”
Ms. Gulp dumped Tobias off at class, where he found a seat near the front and not far from Charlotte. Tobias couldn’t believe how desperately he wished to be at a real school. He wanted to raise his hand and ask a few honest questions. But here at Witherwood, even pretending to ask a question would look suspicious.
“Open your books to page 269,” Professor Himzakity instructed. “Now if you will look at the first paragraph. Do we have a volunteer to read?”
Everyone’s hands went up.
“Excellent. How about you,” he said, pointing to Charlotte.
Charlotte stood up holding her book. Slowly she read, “There are many ways for children to serve their fellow man. Some children volunteer at hospitals. Some children help clean up parks. The most important thing for children to remember is that they should always do as they’re told.”
“Aren’t textbooks great?” the professor said. “Thank you, Charlotte. So, class, as she read, children must do as they are told. Nobody wants to be ‘that guy.’” Professor Himzakity made air quotes with his fingers. “Nobody wants to be the person who ruins the fun we all can have when we do what we’re told.”
For a second Tobias wished his brain was glazed only so he couldn’t understand the stupid things Himzakity was saying.
At lunchtime, food was wheeled in. More sandwiches and more pudding.
Tobias sat by Keith, pretending not to know him.
“Don’t eat the pudding,” Tobias whispered out of the right side of his mouth.
“What?” Keith held his hand up over his mouth to hide the fact that he was talking. “The pudding’s the only thing I like about this place.”
“Don’t eat it.”
Keith started to eat his pudding as fast as he could.
“Stop,” Tobias hissed.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you.”
Professor Himzakity was sitting across the room. He looked up and saw Keith tearing through his pudding.
“Good job, Keith!” he shouted. “Other students could learn from your example. That’s the way to eat pudding.”
As soon as the professor was looking the other direction, Tobias spoke again.
“Your example? You’re just eating pudding.”
“I can’t help it. I love this stuff.”
“There’s something in it,” Tobias said.
“Yeah there is—deliciousness.”
“Don’t.”
“Not listening,” Keith whispered.
Keith’s refusing to listen was on Tobias’s mind the rest of the day. He thought about it while he was helping to prepare dinner. He dwelled on it while he was doing dishes. And he dreamed about it during the few hours of sleep he got before he had to get up and make his way to the boiler room for his eleven-thirty meeting.
He retrieved his watch, a pen, and the black key from beneath the floorboard. Then he let himself out, crossed the hall, and entered the secret space through the hidden door beneath the stairs. He made one wrong turn but corrected his mistake and soon was standing behind the metal panel on the back side of the boiler room. He slid the panel down and entered the space. Patrick and Keith were already there.
One of the boilers was hissing and another popped gently.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Tobias said. “This place seems far less depressing knowing there are others.”
“Don’t get all mushy,” Keith said. “It’s already warm enough in here. We don’t need everyone to start blushing.”
“Where’s Meghan?”
“She’s always fashionably late,” Patrick said, followed by a sniff. “Sometimes she doesn’t show at all. It’s not as easy for her to slip out of her dorm as it is for us. We haven’t found a hidden passage in that room yet.”
The metal panel slid down and in stepped Meghan. Right behind her was Charlotte. Tobias tried hard not to squeal.
“You’re here!”
“I am,” Charlotte said. “And my mind’s clear.”
Tobias hugged his sister.
“You’re okay,” he said with relief. “This is amazing. I missed you, Charlotte.”
“I kinda missed you too. At least the times when I had my wits about me. The other times I didn’t even know who I was.”
“Did Meghan punch some sense into you?”
“No, she threw me off my bed.”
“I didn’t enjoy it,” Meghan said. “If it had been Keith, I’d have had no problem.”
The five kids sat down on overturned wooden crates. They all rapidly filled one another in. Charlotte talked about Sue. Meghan talked about Ms. Ratter. Patrick talked about the animals. Keith talked about Patrick’s annoying sniffing. Meghan talked about how Keith could use some manners. Charlotte talked about how excited she was to have others to talk to. Keith went on and on about the underground pool. And Tobias talked about the pudding.
“No,” Meghan whispered. “It can’t be bad for you.”
“Sorry, it makes me mad too,” Tobias said. “But think about it. They try to get us to eat it every chance they can. There’s something in it or it does something.”
“I think one of us should continue to eat it,” Keith suggested bravely. “Just to see what happens. Any volunteers?”
Everyone besides Tobias raised their hands.
“None of us should eat it,” Tobias warned. “I know it’s hard, but until we find out what’s in it, we should stay away. Fake like you eat it, but don’t.”
“How do you know for sure it’s bad?” Meghan asked.
“I don’t.”
“Then maybe you’re wrong,” Keith debated.
“He’s probably not.” Patrick spoke up. “I love that stuff too, but when you think about it, they’re feeding us a lot of it.”
Patrick stopped talking to sniff and think.
Tobias stopped thinking to talk. “Let me tell you something that might make you want to never touch that pudding again. Keith and I made it to the third floor last night.” He paused as if waiting for them to applaud. When it was clear nobody was going to, he went on. “Keith, have you told them?”
Keith shook his head. “This is the first moment I’ve been with Patrick when there wasn’t an orderly around.”
“The third floor is filled with old people,” Tobias whispered above the chuffing of the boilers. “Really old people. There were rows of them sleeping.”
“Why?” Meghan asked. “Is this like a nursing home too?”
“I don’t think so,” Tobias answered. “As Keith and I were leaving the third floor, I saw the name of one of the old people. Archie.”
“Archie’s up there?” Charlotte said, sounding hopeful.
“I think he is. And you might not believe this, but he looks like he’s ninety years old.”
“At least,” Keith said somberly.
“That’s impossible,” Meghan argued. “No one can age overnight. Maybe it was his grandpa.”
“It was Archie,” Tobias said with certainty.
Everyone was quiet.
“I don’t understand,” Charlotte said. “How long was I under the influence of Marvin’s voice?”
“We were brought back here four days ago,” Tobias said. “So definitely not for eighty years. Here’s what I think. I think they’re feeding us pudding and it’s somehow helping to steal our youth. I don’t know how. Maybe it has something to do with the swimming pool.”
“Why are they doing this?” Meghan asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think it’s connected to the Gothiks. They’re stores of some kind and they must be selling something there.”
“What?” Charlotte questioned.
“I’m not sure.”
“We’ve really got to get out of here,” Keith said anxiously.
“Even worse,” Tobias continued. “Fiddle told me that Catchers located all over the world are bringing in a bunch of new students, so Witherwood has to get rid of the current ones.”
“Maybe you should have left me brainwashed,” Charlotte said, half joking.
After a few moments of silence, Tobias spoke.
“I know it all seems heavy, but I have a plan.”
Patrick, Keith, and Meghan seemed excited. Charlotte not so much.
“Is it like your plan when you tried to have us climb that ladder over the roof?”
“No, it’s way riskier.”
One of the boilers bubbled.
“Does it involve gravy, or ruining our lives?” Charlotte asked. “It’s just that your track record for plans is not that impressive. Actually, it’s the opposite of impressive.”
“Umpressive?” Keith asked.
Charlotte stared at Keith as he pushed his glasses up. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“Me neither,” Keith admitted.
“Maybe we should just let Tobias tell us his plan,” Meghan suggested. “I don’t hear anyone else suggesting anything.”
“Right,” Patrick said. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
“I always like it when other people come up with the plan,” Keith admitted. “That way, when it fails, we can blame someone besides me.”
Tobias looked at Charlotte.
“Fine. You’re my brother, so what choice do I have?”
“Thanks for believing in me.” Tobias smiled. “All right, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to start a fire.”
Everyone stared blankly.
“I can hardly wait to blame you,” Keith said.
“Thanks, Keith. Meghan, do you think you can get me some matches?”
Meghan nodded.
Tobias rolled up his sleeves and began talking.
CHAPTER 17
UM … JUST ONE MORE QUESTION
Ralph Eggers had gotten a good night’s sleep. He had also had a nutritious breakfast that consisted of some fruit and a bowl of oatmeal. He had showered, shaved, and put on a clean shirt he bought yesterday afternoon. He felt like he was getting dressed up for a job interview, or to meet someone important, when in reality he was just following up on the most interesting lead he had found yet. He was going back to Witherwood to ask a few more questions.
Finding that photo at the garage sale had been both unsettling and eerie. Ralph still had no idea what it meant, but in his heart, he felt like it had to mean something. There was always the chance that it was all a coincidence, but it seemed more fateful than that.
Ralph walked out of the YMCA where he was staying. It was a clear day and the streets in the city were busy. There, parked on the edge of the road sitting in his yellow taxi, was Sam. He honked the horn twice and Ralph walked over and climbed inside.
“Ready?”
“I am,” Ralph said. “Thanks again.”
“Stop thanking me,” Sam insisted. “In fact, don’t thank me again until we find out who you are, or I get tired of this and stop driving you around. You’re not making me do anything I don’t want to do.”
“Well, tha— I mean, good.”
Sam maneuvered the taxi through the city streets and onto the freeway and out into the lonely desert. After about thirty minutes, he took the ranch exit and continued down a smaller highway. A couple of miles later, they turned and passed the large sign on the side of the road.
Witherwood.
They could see the mesa sticking straight up in front of them as they drove closer. Near the base of the mesa, the road became steep and stitched back and forth, climbing upward. On one side of the road there was red rock, and on the other side just a drop.
“I would hate to take this road at night,” Ralph said seriously, having no clue that one time he had—the time he skidded, crashed, and lost his memory. He also had no clue that if he were to climb down into the tree-covered ravine below the mesa, he would find his car, turned upside down and now covered in silt from the running river.
“This is not a good place,” Sam said. “I wish that photo you found was leading us back to something more pleasant. I didn’t like school growing up, and I definitely don’t like this one.”
The road straightened out as they reached the highest surface of the mesa. In the distance, Ralph could see the top of the iron gate. The road became level and the gate seemed to tower over the car as they pulled up.
On each side of the iron gate were thick brick pillars. The brick wall atta
ched to the pillars ran off in both directions, looking like a slightly smaller version of the Great Wall of China. There were large weeds growing wildly at the base of the wall, and on the right pillar there was a plaque.
WITHERWOOD REFORM SCHOOL
CARING, COMMUNITY, AND CHARACTER SINCE 1805
Hanging on the gate was a small metal sign that read:
CLOSED FOR TESTING.
“What does that mean?” Ralph said.
“I think it’s pretty clear. They’re closed—for testing.”
Ralph got out of the car and shut the door. The wind was blowing and he could see for miles in most directions. The top of the mesa felt like a giant fingertip and he was standing on it. Sam got out of the car and stretched.
“How did we get in last time?” Ralph asked.
“The gate was open, remember? There was a truck dropping something off. We just followed them in.”
Walking up to the gate, Ralph reached out and grabbed hold of two of the bars. He pulled and tugged, but the gate didn’t budge.
“How do you close an entire school for testing? I mean, are the students still here? Is the faculty around? What kind of testing?”
“I do look brilliant,” Sam said. “But there are some things I don’t know the answer to. And those questions are some of those things.”
Ralph pushed his face up to the bars. He could see the very top of the school in the distance and behind some trees.
“Someone’s got to be in there. Try honking.”
Sam shrugged. “Why not?”
He reached in his car window and pressed against the horn. Birds shot from the trees as the noise echoed through the air. Up on the mesa, the sound of the horn seemed lonely and forlorn. Sam honked ten more times.
As the noise drifted away, he spoke. “I really hope you’re not connected to this place. It feels unnatural here.”
“Honk some more,” Ralph said, his face still pressed against the bars and his eyes scanning the school.
Sam blew the horn ten more times.
“Anything?” Sam asked as the sound of wind took over for the sound of the horn.
“Yes. I think someone’s coming.”
Sam stepped up to the bars and looked in. A person in a white lab coat was making his way down the cobblestone path toward the gate. As the person got closer, Ralph recognized Orrin from having talked to him the last time he was here. From a distance Orrin looked upset, and he was carrying something over his right shoulder.