any sense of honor? We owe it to Pietro to find out what happened. He was such a nice man—”
“We didn’t even know him!”
“I know—he didn’t really know anybody. That’s why if
we
don’t continue his investigation, who will?”
Max-Ernest didn’t have an answer.
“Besides,” Cass added, “it’s too late to back out. Maybe we don’t know who Ms. Mauvais is, but she definitely knows who we are.”
Cass and Max-Ernest emerged from behind the gym so lost in conversation that it took them several seconds to notice that the entire school yard was empty.
“I can’t believe it,” said Cass. “Finally they evacuate the school, and I wasn’t even there.”
“I think maybe it was a false alarm.” Max-Ernest nodded in the direction of the auditorium: kids and teachers had started streaming out.
Amber walked toward them, her Smoochie-of-the-week dangling from her neck.
“Where were you?” she asked. “You missed the assembly!”
Amber, who aside from being the nicest girl in school was also the chattiest (if she wasn’t so nice, you might have said she was the most gossipy), told them the news: Benjamin Blake was missing. That was why the police and fire department had been there.
Amber explained that Benjamin had been dropped off at school that morning, but he’d never gone to class. Nobody had seen him leave; nobody had picked him up. He didn’t have a hall pass or a trip slip or a doctor’s excuse or even a note from his parents. Any student who had seen Benjamin or who had any idea as to his whereabouts was supposed to tell Mrs. Johnson immediately, so the police could be alerted.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” said Amber when she finished her summary of events. “I thought you loved emergencies, Cass.”
“I don’t love them,” said Cass irritably. “I just like to be prepared. Actually, that’s what we were doing just now. Preparing for an emergency.”
“We’re collaborators,” said Max-Ernest.
Which made Cass want to throttle him.
“Oh, well, I think it’s so great you two are friends,” said Amber.
Which made Cass want to throttle her.
“By the way, I’m almost done with this,” Amber added, holding up her Smoochie. “It’s Cotton Candy. Do you want it, Cass?”
“Um, sure. Thanks, Amber,” said Cass automatically.
Which made her want to throttle herself.
“It was my hundredth Smoochie,” Amber boasted, as she handed it over. “They gave me this when I bought it.” She gestured to the front of her T shirt which said:
I’VE SMOOCHED A HUNDRED TIMES!
in glitter writing that sparkled in the sun. She twirled around; on the back the T-shirt said:
Honorary
Skelton Sister
“What’s a Skeleton Sister?” asked Max-Ernest after Amber had rejoined her friends. “Is that a horror movie or a comic or something?”
“Not
Skeleton,
just
Skelt
—oh, never mind,” said Cass. “Your name is better. That’s what they look like anyways.”
As she and Max-Ernest walked back to class, Cass told him about running into Benjamin that morning in the hallway. “I might have been the last person to talk to him—ever.”
And I was so mean to him! she thought guiltily. But she kept that part to herself.
“Are you going to tell Mrs. Johnson?” asked Max-Ernest.
“I don’t know. She’ll probably just think I’m making it up,” Cass said with more than a little bitterness.
Like most of the students at their school, Cass and Max-Ernest usually passed by all the artwork in the hallway without giving it any more thought than they gave the citizenship trophies in the glass case or the toy drive announcements on the bulletin board. Now, knowing Benjamin Blake was missing, they stopped and looked more closely at his paintings.
“I don’t see what’s so great about them,” said Max-Ernest. “I mean, what are they really pictures of? They just look like screen savers.”
“They’re not pictures of anything, that’s the point,” said Cass, who
“We didn’t even know him!”
“I know—he didn’t really know anybody. That’s why if
we
don’t continue his investigation, who will?”
Max-Ernest didn’t have an answer.
“Besides,” Cass added, “it’s too late to back out. Maybe we don’t know who Ms. Mauvais is, but she definitely knows who we are.”
Cass and Max-Ernest emerged from behind the gym so lost in conversation that it took them several seconds to notice that the entire school yard was empty.
“I can’t believe it,” said Cass. “Finally they evacuate the school, and I wasn’t even there.”
“I think maybe it was a false alarm.” Max-Ernest nodded in the direction of the auditorium: kids and teachers had started streaming out.
Amber walked toward them, her Smoochie-of-the-week dangling from her neck.
“Where were you?” she asked. “You missed the assembly!”
Amber, who aside from being the nicest girl in school was also the chattiest (if she wasn’t so nice, you might have said she was the most gossipy), told them the news: Benjamin Blake was missing. That was why the police and fire department had been there.
Amber explained that Benjamin had been dropped off at school that morning, but he’d never gone to class. Nobody had seen him leave; nobody had picked him up. He didn’t have a hall pass or a trip slip or a doctor’s excuse or even a note from his parents. Any student who had seen Benjamin or who had any idea as to his whereabouts was supposed to tell Mrs. Johnson immediately, so the police could be alerted.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” said Amber when she finished her summary of events. “I thought you loved emergencies, Cass.”
“I don’t love them,” said Cass irritably. “I just like to be prepared. Actually, that’s what we were doing just now. Preparing for an emergency.”
“We’re collaborators,” said Max-Ernest.
Which made Cass want to throttle him.
“Oh, well, I think it’s so great you two are friends,” said Amber.
Which made Cass want to throttle her.
“By the way, I’m almost done with this,” Amber added, holding up her Smoochie. “It’s Cotton Candy. Do you want it, Cass?”
“Um, sure. Thanks, Amber,” said Cass automatically.
Which made her want to throttle herself.
“It was my hundredth Smoochie,” Amber boasted, as she handed it over. “They gave me this when I bought it.” She gestured to the front of her T shirt which said:
I’VE SMOOCHED A HUNDRED TIMES!
in glitter writing that sparkled in the sun. She twirled around; on the back the T-shirt said:
Honorary
Skelton Sister
“What’s a Skeleton Sister?” asked Max-Ernest after Amber had rejoined her friends. “Is that a horror movie or a comic or something?”
“Not
Skeleton,
just
Skelt
—oh, never mind,” said Cass. “Your name is better. That’s what they look like anyways.”
As she and Max-Ernest walked back to class, Cass told him about running into Benjamin that morning in the hallway. “I might have been the last person to talk to him—ever.”
And I was so mean to him! she thought guiltily. But she kept that part to herself.
“Are you going to tell Mrs. Johnson?” asked Max-Ernest.
“I don’t know. She’ll probably just think I’m making it up,” Cass said with more than a little bitterness.
Like most of the students at their school, Cass and Max-Ernest usually passed by all the artwork in the hallway without giving it any more thought than they gave the citizenship trophies in the glass case or the toy drive announcements on the bulletin board. Now, knowing Benjamin Blake was missing, they stopped and looked more closely at his paintings.
“I don’t see what’s so great about them,” said Max-Ernest. “I mean, what are they really pictures of? They just look like screen savers.”
“They’re not pictures of anything, that’s the point,” said Cass, who
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