More School stories from Andrew Clements

  FRINDLE

  *“A fresh, imaginative plot that will have readers smiling all the way through, if not laughing out loud.”

  —Horn Book Magazine, starred review

  ◆“A captivating tale—one to press upon children, and one they’ll be passing among themselves.”

  —Kirkus Reviews, pointered review

  SCHOOL STORY

  *“A standout….”

  —Publishers Weekly, starred review

  *“Practical as well as poignant.”

  —Kirkus Reviews, starred review

  *“Full of suspense, adventure, and action. Another wonderful novel written by Clements.”

  —Library Talk, starred review

  THE LANDRY NEWS

  *“Thought-provoking … Readers will cheer.”

  —School Library Journal, starred review

  “Another terrific school story by the inventor of Frindle.”

  —Horn Book Magazine

  “The story gallops along …”

  —New York Times Book Review

  A FACE IN THE WINDOW

  Ted Hammon loves a mystery, and the face he sees in the window of an abandoned farmhouse is a good one. It’s almost enough to distract him from the other mystery he’s trying to solve—how can his one-room schoolhouse, with only five students, stay open next year?

  At first there seems to be no connection between Ted’s two mysteries. But Ted soon learns that in a very small town, there’s no such thing as an isolated event. And the mystery of the face in the window may just be the key to saving his school.

  “Once again, Clements captures real people and real issues…. Another fine work of fiction.”

  —Publishers Weekly, starred review

  OTHER FAVORITES FROM ANDREW CLEMENTS, BESTSELLING AUTHOR WITH OVER 10 MILLION BOOKS IN PRINT

  Visit the author at Andrewclements.com

  Meet the author.

  Watch videos, and get extras at

  KIDS.SimonandSchuster.com

  A JUNIOR LIBRARY GUILD SELECTION

  Cover illustration copyright © 2008 by Brian Selznick

  Atheneum Books for Young Readers

  Simon & Schuster

  New York

  Ages 8–12

  0508

  Andrew Clements is the author of more than fifty books for children, including Frindle, The Report Card, and most recently, We the Children, the first book in the Benjamin Pratt & the Keepers of the School series. Mr. Clements taught for seven years before moving east to begin a career in publishing and writing. The parents of four grown children, he and his wife live in central Massachusetts.

  Mark Elliott is the illustrator of many picture books and novels for young readers, including No Talking by Andrew Clements and Dexter the Tough by Margaret Peterson Haddix. He lives in New York’s Hudson River valley.

  ALSO BY ANDREW CLEMENTS

  Lunch Money

  The Last Holiday Concert

  The Report Card

  A Week in the Woods

  The Jacket

  The School Story

  The Janitor’s Boy

  The Landry News

  Frindle

  Big Al

  Jake Drake, Bully Buster

  Jake Drake, Know-It-All

  Jake Drake, Teacher’s Pet

  Jake Drake, Class Clown

  Big Al and Shrimpy

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALADDIN PAPERBACKS • An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division • 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 www.SimonandSchuster.com • Text copyright © 2006 by Andrew Clements • Illustrations copyright © 2008 by Mark Elliott • All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. • ALADDIN PAPERBACKS and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc. • Also available in a Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers hardcover edition. • Designed by Greg Stadnyk and Jessica Sonkin. • The text of this book was set in Revival. • The illustrations were rendered in pencil. • First Aladdin Paperbacks edition May 2008 •

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows: Clements, Andrew.

  Room one : a mystery or two / Andrew Clements; illustrations by Mark Elliott.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Ted Hammond, the only sixth grader in his small Nebraska town’s one-room schoolhouse, searches for clues to the disappearance of a homeless family.

  [1. Schools—Fiction. 2. City and town life—Fiction. 3. Homeless persons—Fiction. 4. Mystery and detective stories. 5. Schools—Juvenile fiction. 6. City and town life—Juvenile fiction.

  7. Homeless persons—Juvenile fiction. 8. Nebraska—Fiction. 9. Nebraska—Juvenile fiction.]

  PZ7.C59118 Ro 2006

  [Fic] 22—lcac

  2006004303

  ISBN-13: 978-0-689-86686-9 (hc.)

  ISBN-10: 0-689-86686-0 (hc.)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-689-86687-6 (pbk.)

  ISBN-10: 0-689-86687-9 (pbk.)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4424-6225-0 (ebook)

  For my sister, Martha Clements Wilday

  Contents

  Chapter 1: May

  Chapter 2: The Sixth Grader

  Chapter 3: Stakeout

  Chapter 4: Details

  Chapter 5: Boy Scout Burglar

  Chapter 6: Conversation

  Chapter 7: Sixth-Grade Island

  Chapter 8: Badges

  Chapter 9: Alexa

  Chapter 10: Prospects

  Chapter 11: Fair and Square

  Chapter 12: Sleepless

  Chapter 13: Crime Scene

  Chapter 14: Blame Game

  Chapter 15: Official Business

  Chapter 16: A Little Home

  Chapter 17: Life Goes on

  Chapter 18: Big News

  Chapter 19: Not Many Words

  Chapter 20: Second Chance

  Chapter 21: Possibility

  Chapter 22: Questions

  Chapter 23: Invitation

  Chapter 24: Mystery-Proof

  Chapter 25: The Doing

  Chapter 26: Main Street

  Chapter 27: Homecoming

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  MAY

  Ted Hammond huffed and puffed as he pedaled up the small hill on the road back into town. Every morning he rode his bike to the junction of Route 92 and County Road 7 and picked up a bundle of the Omaha World-Tribune. And between seven thirty and eight thirty, rain or shine, summer or winter, Ted delivered the news.

  The newspapers in his canvas shoulder bag felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. That’s because it was Tuesday, and that meant he had an extra bundle of the county paper, the Weekly Observer. But at least there wasn’t any snow or rain or hot dust blowing into his face.

  May was Ted’s favorite month for bike riding. Not too hot, not too cold. He loved October, too. But with May, summer wasn’t far off, and summer meant no school. So May was the best.

  It wasn’t like Ted made a lot of money delivering papers, but in Plattsford, Nebraska, any job was a great job. Even during its high point in the 1920s, Plattsford had been a small town, not much more than a speck on the Great Plains of west central Nebraska. And for years and years the population had been shrinking.

  But that didn’t bother Ted. He liked the leftovers, the people who were still around. And when the Otis
family had moved away? Didn’t bother Ted a bit. He had delivered papers to them for two and a half years, and they’d never given him a tip, not even a dime—not even at Christmas. Plus Albert Otis had been a dirty rotten bully. Good riddance.

  Ted could ride up and down the streets and know who lived in every house—well, nearly. He didn’t personally know all 108 people who lived in Plattsford, because the whole township covered thirty-six square miles. But the in-town part, the part where he had most of his paper route, that was only about forty houses, and he’d knocked on almost every door looking for new subscriptions or collecting money from his customers. His last stop every day was Clara’s Diner, right on Main Street, and a homemade doughnut and a glass of milk was always waiting for him on the end of the counter.

  With a last burst of effort, Ted got his bike over the crest of the hill, and then he was coasting down the other side, the early sun bright on his face. Bluebirds singing along the fence row, the waving grass beginning to green up, the faded red paint on the Andersons’ barn—Ted pulled it all into his eyes and ears, and then into his heart. He loved this place, his own peaceful corner of the world.

  And when Ted happened to see a face in an upstairs window of the Andersons’ house, he wanted to smile and wave and shout, “Hey! Beautiful day, huh?” But he didn’t. And there was a good reason for that. The Andersons had moved away almost two years ago, and the old farmhouse was empty, boarded up tight.

  At least, it was supposed to be.

  Chapter 2

  THE SIXTH GRADER

  When Ted got to school at nine o’clock, his day was almost three hours old. As he’d delivered his newspapers, and then munched his doughnut at Clara’s Diner, there had been plenty of time to think about what he’d seen as he went riding past the Andersons’ house.

  Ted even asked himself if maybe he hadn’t imagined it. But no. He was sure he’d seen a face, a girl’s face. And she’d had brown hair that covered one cheek almost down to her chin. And she’d pulled back into the shadows just as he rode past and glanced her way. She hadn’t wanted to be seen.

  As curious as Ted was, there was nothing he could do about it, not until later. Not until after school. And he had a feeling it was going to be another long day. When the weather got beautiful, every school day lasted forever. Especially in room one.

  There was an old joke, and it was supposed to be funny. Someone would ask, “Where should we have the school play?” And someone else would say, “I know! Let’s use room one.”

  Or a kid would say, “Where can we have the spelling bee?” And another kid would say, “How about … room one?”

  Or the scoutmaster would say, “I wonder where we should hold the big pancake breakfast this year?” And a boy would pretend to think real hard, and then offer, “Umm … room one, maybe?”

  The person asking and the person answering were both in on the joke, because everyone in the town of Plattsford, Nebraska, knew that if you didn’t count the bathrooms and the small front office, Red Prairie Learning Center was a one-room school. The one and only classroom was room one.

  And in that one and only room, there was only one sixth grader, and that was Ted Hammond.

  To call Red Prairie a one-room school wasn’t completely correct, because the building actually had seven classrooms. As recently as fifteen years ago, there had been over a hundred children attending in grades kindergarten through five. Back then the town even had its own junior high school.

  But as the local farms and businesses went through year after year of hard times, more and more families had moved away. Eight years earlier, the junior high school had closed, and the sixth, seventh, and eighth graders joined the younger kids at Red Prairie—which meant that some grades had needed to double up in the same classrooms.

  As the number of students kept dropping, classrooms were shut down, no longer needed. The long fluorescent lightbulbs were removed from the ceiling fixtures to be used in other rooms. The heating and ventilation systems were turned off to save money. The custodian stopped sweeping the floors, and if a window in an empty classroom got broken, it was covered with plywood. Finally, only the large room near the front office was kept open, the room that had been used for assemblies and lunch—room one.

  It was a good thing that room one was so large. There was enough space in the reading corner for the eight long bookshelves that had become the school library. There was enough space for three computer desks, except only two of the computers were working at the moment, and the dial-up Internet access was painfully slow. There was even enough space for a couple of foursquare courts near the center of the room, which were put to good use on indoor recess days.

  Just two years ago, Red Prairie Elementary School had been renamed Red Prairie Learning Center, and this year there were only nine students in room one.

  On the younger end there were four fourth graders: Lizzie, Hannah, Kevin, and Keith. On the older end, there were four eighth graders: Josh, Eddie, Carla, and Joan.

  And smack dab in the middle, there was one sixth grader.

  Was the only twelve-year-old in town a loner, friendless? Not Ted Hammond. There were two other sixth-grade boys who lived in Hulton, about twenty miles away. They were in his 4-H Club, and the meetings were every other week. The three guys had gone to the 4-H summer camp in Halsey last year. They weren’t neighbors or classmates, but they were good friends just the same.

  Ted also spent time working side by side with his dad around the farm, and the whole family ate dinner together every night. And delivering the newspapers kept Ted in touch with almost everyone else in town. There wasn’t much time left over to feel lonely.

  True, during the school day Ted was on his own a lot, and it would have been great to have one good friend. But did he miss having a big gang of kids his age? Not really. Ted’s time at school was interesting in its own special way. It was almost restful. Almost boring, too—but only now and then.

  Red Prairie Learning Center had a total population of ten people, if you counted the teacher. And, of course, you always have to count the teacher. Even though the total number of students was small, Mrs. Mitchell still had a big job with plenty of juggling. A few activities like art and music could include the whole group, but most of the time the three different grade levels needed individual attention. Mrs. Mitchell had to prepare the eighth graders for high school. She had to help the fourth graders with their reading and basic math. And she had to try to keep her one sixth grader from just sitting in a corner with a book all day.

  Because that’s what happened if the teacher didn’t keep Ted focused on his math and social studies and language arts and science. Even during outdoor recess, Ted sometimes made up an excuse to go back into the room, and Mrs. Mitchell would find him thirty minutes later, curled up in the reading corner with The Mystery of the Bloody Shoe, or The Case of the Empty Coffin, or The Detective’s Diary.

  Somewhere in the middle of third grade, Ted had gotten hooked on mysteries. After he’d read all the ones at the school, he moved on to the mysteries in the children’s collection at the town library. And after he’d read all those, he asked Mrs. Coughlin, the librarian, for more.

  So she taught Ted how to connect with the interlibrary loan programs over the Internet. Suddenly Ted’s library was a hundred times bigger than the one on Main Street. And that’s why a fresh batch of books arrived every ten days. Mrs. Coughlin kept them behind her desk on a shelf marked, “Reserved for Ted Hammond.”

  He read two or three mysteries a week, but he didn’t just read them. He solved them—or at least he tried.

  Ted had developed his own mystery-solving system. When he got to the page at the exact middle of a mystery book, he stopped reading and picked up his pencil. First, he wrote down the names of all the characters. He carefully listed all the facts he knew so far. Then he tried to think of every possible way the case might end up. Finally, after he’d solved the mystery in his own mind, Ted zoomed through the second half of th
e book to see how the author solved it. And eight times out of ten, Ted got it right. Not bad for a twelve-year-old detective.

  But in the spring of his sixth-grade year, the mysteries of real life were starting to demand Ted’s attention. For example, just a few days ago at the dinner table, his dad had said, “How the heck am I supposed to keep this farm if the price of beef keeps droppin’, and the price of fuel keeps goin’ up? It’s a mystery to me.”

  Then there was the mystery of how Red Prairie Learning Center was going to stay open next year after all the eighth graders left. That was a big mystery, and everyone in town wanted to solve it because, really, it was a matter of life and death. Out on the Great Plains in western Nebraska, people understand that if the school dies, the town dies too.

  Back in April, Ted had heard talk at Clara’s Diner one morning about a young family that wanted to buy a house on Hutchins Street, the old Chalmers place. The rumor was that they had four kids, ranging from second grade up to seventh. A week later word filtered back that they’d moved to Wheaton instead, thirty-eight miles west. So the survival of the school continued to be a matter of great suspense.

  But on this particular Tuesday morning in May, the mystery that had Ted’s full attention was that face. The one he’d seen at the Andersons’ house.

  By morning recess, Ted had worked out three possible explanations for that face in the window. By lunchtime, his list had grown to seven different solutions, but by two thirty he had crossed out three, including the idea that he might have seen a ghost. Ted was a practical, no-nonsense detective, and he certainly didn’t believe in ghosts. That was a real girl he’d seen, so there had to be a real explanation.

  As the school day ended, Ted thought about telling Mrs. Mitchell. Then he thought about riding his bike over to the town hall and telling Deputy Sheriff Linwood. And maybe that would have been the smartest and the safest thing to do.