Again the boy behind Reynie snickered, this time muttering: “What makes him so sure he’ll be taking that test? She hasn’t even called the names yet!”
It was true—he should have waited until she’d called the names. He must have seemed very arrogant. Cheeks burning, Reynie ducked his head.
The pencil woman answered, “Yes, if a sharpener should become necessary, one will be provided. Children are not to bring their own, understood?” There was a general nodding of heads, after which the woman clapped the peanut grit from her hands, took out a sheet of paper, and continued, “Very well, if there are no other questions, I shall read the list.”
The room became very quiet.
“Reynard Muldoon!” the woman called. Reynie’s heart leaped.
There was a grumble of discontent from the seat behind him, but as soon as it passed, the room again grew quiet, and the children waited with bated breath for the other names to be called. The woman glanced up from the sheet.
“That is all,” she said matter-of-factly, folding the paper and tucking it away. “The rest of you are dismissed.”
The room erupted in outcries of anger and dismay. “Dismissed?” said the boy behind Reynie. “Dismissed?”
As the children filed out the door—some weeping bitterly, some stunned, some whining in complaint—Reynie approached the woman. For some reason, she was hurrying around the room checking the window locks. “Excuse me. Miss? May I please use your telephone? My tutor said—”
“I’m sorry, Reynard,” the woman interrupted, tugging unsuccessfully on a closed window. “I’m afraid there isn’t a telephone.”
“But Miss Perumal—”
“Reynard,” the woman said with a smile, “I’m sure you can make do without one, can’t you? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must sneak out the back door. These windows appear to have been painted shut.”
“Sneak out? But why?”
“I’ve learned from experience. Any moment now, some of these children’s parents will come storming in to demand explanations. Unfortunately, I have none to give them. Therefore, off I go. I’ll see you this afternoon. Don’t be late!”
And with that, away she went.
It had been a strange business indeed, and Reynie had a suspicion it was to grow stranger still. When the distant church bell struck the quarter hour, Reynie finished his sandwich and rose from the park bench. If the doors to the Monk Building weren’t open by now, he would try to find another way in. At this point, it would hardly surprise him to discover he must enter the building through a basement window.
As he mounted the steps to the Monk Building’s broad front plaza, Reynie saw two girls well ahead of him, walking together toward the front doors. Other test-takers, he guessed. One girl, who seemed to have green hair—though perhaps this was a trick of the light; the sun shone blindingly bright today—was carelessly flinging her pencil up into the air and catching it again. Not the best idea, Reynie thought. And sure enough, even as he thought it, the girl missed the pencil and watched it fall through a grate at her feet.
For a moment the other girl hesitated, as if she might try to help. Then she checked her watch. In only a few minutes it would be one o’clock. “Sorry about your pencil—it’s a shame,” she said, but already her sympathetic expression was fading. Clearly it had occurred to her that with the green-haired girl unable to take the test, there would be less competition. With a spreading smile, she hurried across the plaza and through the front doors of the Monk Building, which had finally been unlocked.
The metal grate covered a storm drain that ran beneath the plaza, and the unfortunate girl was staring through it, down into darkness, when Reynie reached her. Her appearance was striking—indeed, even startling. She had coal-black skin; hair so long she could have tied it around her waist (and yes, it truly was green); and an extraordinarily puffy white dress that gave you the impression she was standing in a cloud.
“That’s rotten luck,” Reynie said. “To drop your pencil here, of all places.”
The girl looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “You don’t happen to have an extra one, do you?”
“I’m sorry. I was told to bring—”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted. “Only one pencil. Well, that was my only pencil, and a fat lot of good it will do me down in that drain.” She stared wistfully through the grate a moment, then looked up at Reynie as if surprised to see him still standing there. “What are you waiting for? The test starts any minute.”
“I’m not going to leave you here without a pencil,” Reynie said. “I was surprised your friend did.”
“Friend? Oh, that other girl. She’s not my friend—we just met at the bottom of the steps. I didn’t even know her name. For that matter, I don’t know yours, either.”
“Reynard Muldoon. You can call me Reynie.”
“Okay, Reynie, nice to meet you. I’m Rhonda Kazembe. So now that we’re friends and all that, how do you intend to get my pencil back? We’d better hurry, you know. One minute late and we’re disqualified.”
Reynie took out his own pencil, a new yellow #2 that he’d sharpened to a fine point that morning. “Actually,” he said, “we’ll just share this one.” He snapped the pencil in two and handed her the sharpened end. “I’ll sharpen my half and we’ll both be set. Do you have your eraser?”
Rhonda Kazembe was staring at her half of the pencil with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. “That would never have occurred to me,” she said, “breaking it like that. Now, what did you say? Oh, yes, I have my eraser.”
“Then let’s get going, we only have a minute,” Reynie urged.
Rhonda held back. “Hold on, Reynie. I haven’t properly thanked you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said impatiently. “Now let’s go!”
Still she resisted. “No, I really want to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I couldn’t have taken this test, and do you want to know something?” Glancing around to be sure they were alone, Rhonda whispered, “I have the answers. I’m going to make a perfect score!”
“What? How?”
“No time to explain. But if you sit right behind me, you can look over my shoulder. I’ll hold up my test a bit to make it easier.”
Reynie was stunned. How in the world could this girl have gotten her hands on the answers? And now she was offering to help him cheat! He was briefly tempted—he wanted desperately to learn about those special opportunities. But when he imagined returning to tell Miss Perumal of his success, hiding the fact that he’d cheated, he knew he could never do it.
“No, thank you,” he said. “I’d rather not.”
Rhonda Kazembe looked amazed, and Reynie once again felt the weight of loneliness upon him. If it was unpleasant to feel so different from the other children at Stonetown Orphanage, how much worse was it to be seen as an oddball by a green-haired girl wearing her own personal fog bank?
“Okay, suit yourself,” Rhonda said as the two of them started for the front doors. “I hope you know what you’re in for.”
Reynie was in too much of a hurry to respond. He had no idea what he was in for, of course, but he certainly wanted to find out.
Contents
Welcome
Dedication
A Beginning at the End
Ledgers and Lies
Shadows and Spiders
What’s What and What Isn’t, and What Once Was
Taps and Glimmers
Naps and Collapses
Persuasion, Prediction, Punishment
The Rules with Rabbit
Keys and Passages
Secret Projects
The Butler’s Clues
The Expedition
Rescues and Reconciliations
Conjurings, Combinations, and Calculated Risks
Chores and Memories
The Boy on the Bluff
The Bundle at the End of the Tunnel
Missing Treasures, Missing People, and the Mysterious Mr. Booker
Sleight of Hand
Sacrifices
The Rothschild Report
Restless Ghosts
An Unexpected Complication
The Runaway
The Kindness of Strangers
The Return of Nicholas Benedict
Mysteries and Revelations
Covers Uncovered
Truth and Consequences
An End at the Beginning
A Preview of The Mysterious Benedict Society.
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Trenton Lee Stewart
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Diana Sudyka
Excerpt from The Mysterious Benedict Society copyright © 2007 by Trenton Lee Stewart; illustrations copyright © 2007 by Carson Ellis
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at
[email protected] Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First e-book edition: April 2013
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ISBN 978-0-316-20266-4
Trenton Lee Stewart, The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict
(Series: # )
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