The next day, Stephen’s prediction came true. The boys could hardly focus on anything except waiting for the night. They bounced between activities, nervous and killing time. After dinner, they put on a boring movie and attempted to fall asleep early. Ben set his watch’s alarm for three a.m., and by ten p.m. they thought they would never get to sleep. Eventually, they dropped off and Ben’s alarm woke them up.
They were alert instantly, and none wanted to call off the trip. They crawled carefully out of their pillow-fort and uncovered the hidden stash of dark clothing.
Jack felt his heart was about to burst as he tried to silently open the back door. He could hear his breath and held it to control his twitching hands. Once outside, they crept between the bushes until they were out of sight. On the path they nearly hovered with excitement.
“This is the best,” said Jack.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “Where’s the mark?”
“Almost there,” said Jack.
They moved through the woods without lights. The moon was bright and the clouds had mostly disappeared. They were right to worry about wet clothing. By the time they made it to the tree, they were wet from rain hanging on the leaves.
“Do you see it?” asked Jack.
Stephen bent down — “Nope. Let’s wait for a second and see if maybe a leaf is in the way.”
They backed away from the path a bit and hunkered down behind some brush. Each stared at the spot on the tree until they could almost hallucinate anything there in the bark. After almost ten minutes in silence, they were rewarded by the red spot flickering back into existence.
“There it is!” said Stephen.
“Are you sure that’s not just my eyes?” joked Ben.
“Then it’s my eyes too,” said Jack.
“Come on,” ordered Stephen.
Stephen rushed over to the light and thrust his hand in its path. He strode confidently into the woods, following it. Jack and Ben trailed close behind. They made it farther than the previous night, but the light flicked out when Stephen’s hand was almost shoulder-height.
“Let’s just keep going,” said Stephen. “It’s got to be coming from this direction.”
“What’s through these woods again?” asked Ben.
Jack replied — “As far as I could tell, it’s Route 203. There are houses and a couple of businesses.”
“We’re about to find out,” said Stephen. “Look.” He pointed up to a small sapling. On a leaf, at about eye-level, the dot of light shone. “See, if it turns just a tiny bit, the leaf doesn’t block it.” He reached out and tore the leaf from the tree.
“There’s a clearing,” Jack was looking back in the direction they had been traveling.
“Let’s go carefully,” said Ben.
The three spread out and crouched down into the brush. They made their way with all the stealth they could muster. On the edge of an over-grown field, they stopped. The grass was about a foot high.
“What is it?” asked Stephen.
Across the field they saw the back of a long building — three stories high. Immediately ahead of them, the gabled roof was adorned with three small windows, but to the left there were many windows on each floor. A swing-set off the to right looked half-collapsed in the moonlight.
“Must be a business or something,” said Jack. “Too big to be a house.”
“Could be the back of an apartment,” offered Ben. “I’ve seen an apartment building almost like that.”
“Whatever it is, it’s deserted,” said Stephen. “Look, those windows are boarded up.”
Straining to see across the field, Jack and Ben could barely make out that the windows indeed looked boarded up. They also noticed a couple of bare spots on the roof where the shingles had blown away.
“Let’s go check it out,” said Ben.
“When did you grow a pair?” asked Stephen.
“We should skirt the field over to that ditch,” said Jack. “That way we won’t leave any footprints in the tall grass.”
Jack led the way. They circled the clearing until they came to a drainage ditch lined with big rocks. Only a small amount of water trickled down the rocks, and the boys made it to the corner of the building without getting more wet.
“How are we going to figure out where that beam is coming from?” asked Jack.
“I already know,” said Stephen.
“What? How?”
“Right after I tore down that leaf I turned around and saw this building. The light hit my eye a little bit,” said Stephen. “Anyway, it’s coming from right over that porch.” He pointed to the side of the building.
About ten feet up, a small back porch roof protruded from the building. They approached and saw the porch covered a cracked concrete pad.
“Looks sturdy enough to me,” said Ben. He climbed the rickety lattice-work that ran up the overhang’s support.
“Jeez, be careful,” said Jack.
Ben paused — “Thanks, that’s helpful.” He crested the top of the porch-roof and turned to look back over. “It’s sturdy — come up.”
Stephen and Jack deliberated and Ben disappeared. When the other two boys had gathered their nerve and made it up, Ben was studying a small hole in a clapboard.
“It comes out here,” said Ben. He waved his hand in front of the hole and angled it so Jack and Stephen could see the red dot on his hand.
“Man, that thing goes a long way, doesn’t it?” asked Stephen.
“Who’s got the smallest flashlight?” asked Ben. “I don’t want to ruin my night-vision.”
Jack produced a key-chain light and they clustered around the hole while Ben illuminated the wall. The red beam danced on Stephen’s chest as he breathed in and out.
“There’s a line,” said Ben.
A faint gray line descended from the laser hole an pointed straight down. They had to get their faces within a foot of the wall to trace its progress. The arrow ended five clapboards below the hole.
“Check it out — it’s only this wide,” said Jack. He pointed left and right, showing his friends that the arrow terminated on a clapboard that had end-seams only sixteen inches apart. “It’s a really small piece.”
Stephen felt the seams of the clapboard and then pressed on the center. It moved slightly. He tried the corners — the board seemed loose, but stayed put. Finally, he pressed hard on the bottom-center of the board and the three boys heard a loud click.
“It’s a latch!” exclaimed Stephen. As he removed his hand, the bottom of the clapboard came loose and then dropped off.
The boys had found a four-inch-tall, sixteen-inch-wide hole in the side of the building.
“Holy fuck,” breathed Ben. “What’s in there?”
Jack bent down to look in the hole. He had to get down on his belly — the hole was just above the surface of the porch roof on which they crouched.
“Give me the light back,” said Jack. Ben handed it down to his upturned hand.
Jack moved with the measured pace of someone defusing a bomb. He swept the light from side to side and focused it back to the middle of the hatch.
“Okay,” he began. “There’s a button and an envelope.”
Ben and Stephen knelt down to look over Jack’s shoulders.
“Let’s see what’s in the envelope,” said Stephen.
“What if it’s a trap or something?” asked Jack.
“Trap? It’s a letter in a hole,” said Stephen. “Don’t be so paranoid.”
“I don’t see anything attached to it,” said Ben. “Just move it a little.”
“Okay,” said Jack, and he put his hand near the hole. He took a deep breath and let it out.
Stephen whispered: “The suspense is killing me.”
“Shhhh!” ordered Jack.
The hatch in front of Jack was extremely simple. Framed in old wood, it was unadorned and dusty. The wood, dark with age, carried stains and drip-marks. Just beyond the envelope, a black button — bigger than a doorbell — was screwed into the back wall of the hatch. Two coiled wires led from the left side of the button to a small hole in the top of the hatch.
His fingers stiff, Jack nudged the envelope a half inch. It moved easily. He withdrew his hand about an inch and then moved his fingers forward. This time he brushed the envelop back towards himself.
“This is just weird — why would there be a letter in this hatch, up on a porch roof, under a laser?” asked Jack. “Doesn’t that just seem like a bad thing to be messing with?”
Neither Ben nor Stephen answered, they just waited. Jack reached in quickly and pulled out the envelope.
“Cool — now open it,” said Stephen.
“Let’s get out of here — we can open it back at the house,” said Ben.
“Yeah, I like that idea better,” agreed Jack.
“Okay, let me get this back on,” Stephen acquiesced. He fumbled the hatch’s cover — the clapboard — back into place. He tried several times before he got it to latch. Satisfied, they made their way back down to the ground. The boys retraced their steps through the drainage gully and walked fast. The trip out had taken them almost thirty minutes, but they made it back in fifteen.
Jack stashed their wet clothes in a plastic bag and the boys gathered in their pillow fort with a flashlight and the envelope. Ben examined it carefully: it was sealed and yellowed, and showed a history of faint wrinkles.
“Should we rip it?” asked Jack. “Maybe we should steam it open.”
“What, are going to put it back?” asked Stephen.
“Too much thinking,” said Ben. He slipped his finger under one corner of the flap and tore down the side. He squeezed it open and peered in. Satisfied it contained papers, Ben slid the contents of the envelope down onto the sleeping bag.
They boys saw several hundred-dollar bills and a folded sheet of paper drop out of the envelope.
“Wow,” said Jack. He picked up one of the bills. “Series 1978. That’s almost as old as my dad.”
Stephen counted the rest of the bills — “Five, six, seven-hundred. Wow, what are you going to do with your cut?”
Jack laughed — “Same thing you’re going to do with yours: nothing. We can’t just suddenly have extra money. My parents will be a little suspicious.”
“What if we buy something and hide it?” asked Stephen.
“What good is that?” asked Jack. “Besides, you don’t know my mom. She finds everything.”
“Actually,” replied Stephen, “I’m kinda aware of that.”
Ben began to unfold the paper and noticed two words in neat, cursive script on the outside fold: “Thank you.”
“Why are they thanking us?” asked Ben.
“It’s probably payment for something,” said Stephen. “Why else would someone leave money in a secret hiding place?”
Jack held the flashlight as the three boys read the letter together. It was written in the same elegant script as the “Thank you” on the outside.
July 19th, 1991
Dear Traveler,
0. I’m sure you’re curious as to why this letter encloses money. And I’m also sure you’re wondering why a beam of laser light signals this location. My motivations will become clear if you read this letter carefully. But I caution you — don’t take my benevolence for granted. Any breach of my rules will lead to dire consequences. All loyalty will be rewarded. Let me now answer your questions.
0. In my youth, I assembled a wealth of specialized knowledge. Around the same time, I achieved financial wealth. Money hasn’t been a problem for quite a while. Because I had time and means, I was able to build this hotel. After it was completed, I realized that I wouldn’t always be around to protect my treasure; and I can’t keep pouring money into this place without getting anything in return. Also, I realized that there was no one person I could trust and I’d love to see this place stand for half of fifty years. Little by little, I developed this plan.
0. I’m offering this money as a bribe to you. All you need to do is press the button before July 19th and come collect each year — a private trust provides these funds and pays all the taxes. Money, and a copy of this letter, will appear in this location: your reward for this small puzzle. But you need to take care that nobody sees you coming here. Across the field behind you, the woods provide good cover. Approach the hotel from those woods, if you would. Like me, you would be best served if nobody saw you at the hotel.
1. If I tell you a bit about my life, you may have a better understanding of my motivations. About ten years ago, I lost my wife. May she rest in peace. Bereft, I set my mind to assembling a definitive library of my experience. Avocation became determination, and I focused my energy. Almost to the exclusion of everything else, I concentrated on documenting and preserving my knowledge. Limited health forced me to rush at the end, and there are several areas I need to expand to make my opus complete.
0. In case you’re wondering — there’s nothing in this hotel that anyone besides me would find valuable. Although the documents I’ve assembled are incomplete, I did take the precaution of encrypting the information so only I could understand it. Maybe that will discourage you from doing something inadvisable. Betray my trust at your own risk. After a while, you’ll see the value in taking my bribe. Ask no questions and you’ll be enriched for doing almost nothing. Life hardly ever presents you with such an easy decision.
0. I can imagine what you’re thinking — “Is this a test?” Assuredly, it’s not. Many have tried and failed to discern the true meaning here. But don’t let that stop you from trying. Avarice will betray you. Aim high, but be ready to start at the bottom. Look to your heart when at the depths of despair.
1. I’d like to offer you some more advice — it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain. And that pain contained great power. My resolve told me to climb again until I could make my way back to my feet. Backwards is never the answer, I found. Awake in this new life I feel more alive than ever. And, as my wife would have said, “Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.” Live and let live.
1. I hope you’ll take this bribe, and my small bits of information. Any other questions you might have will have to go unanswered. My sincerest apologies for the cryptic nature of this letter. But, take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again. A patient man can find his way out of any situation. A hasty man is almost never correct. Let’s consider this you r Job.
Jack spoke first: “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever read, except for maybe these numbers at the end.”
“Why? It makes sense to me,” said Stephen.
“But think about it — why would he set up a light, and power for the light and then aim it into the woods?” asked Jack. “So that some random person like us would see the light and then come looking? Why not just have no light, no money, and hire someone to guard the place.”
“Well a guard would cost a lot more,” said Ben. “And a guard also means there’s something valuable, so it might have the opposite effect. People wouldwant to break into a place with a guard.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “but still, why lure people to find your money, when you could just leave the place boarded up. If a guard is suspicious, isn’t a light and this weird letter even more suspicious?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Ben. “But, we’re supposed to press the button. What if that does something else too?”
“So we have to assume this guy is lying?” asked Stephen. Jack and Ben nodded in agreement. “Well, then it’s simple — if he’s lying then we shouldn’t believe anything in the letter unless we confirm it ourselves.”
“Makes sense,” said Jack.
“So, we push the button and then wait until the 19th and see if more money appears?” pondered Ben.
“Right,” said Stephen. “And we also see if the place really is empty.”
“How are we going to do that without wrecking the place?” asked Jack. “Besides, maybe it’s just good enough to get seven-hundred dollars each year. That’s pretty good money for doing nothing.”
“True,” said Ben. “But he really must be hiding something good in there. Why does he want it to stand for half of fifty years?”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with what’s inside,” said Stephen. “But I still think we need to know what’s in there.”
“Hey,” said Jack, “you’re only going to be here until the seventeenth. Can you change that?”
“I don’t know.” answered Stephen. “I can call my mom tomorrow. What time is it? I guess I mean later today.”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “We should get some sleep — it’s way late.”
Exhausted, they put away the letter and money, and turned off the flashlight. For almost fifteen minutes they lay in silence, but couldn’t sleep. Eventually, Ben dug around and found the flashlight again. He opened the letter and began to re-read it.
“I think it has something to do with the land,” said Ben. “There’s something he’s trying to hide on the land — and he covered it with a hotel.”
“Could be,” said Jack. “It’s almost dawn, we should really get to sleep before my mom gets up.”
They could have slept until noon, but Jack’s mom woke them up for breakfast a few hours after they had finally gotten to sleep.
They caught a huge break later that morning — Jack’s mom had to go out to run errands. Jack politely declined when she offered to take the boys along. She wasn’t concerned that they would get in trouble while she was gone. They hadn’t really stirred from the couch since breakfast. Ben wanted to go back to sleep after eating, but Jack convinced him that going back to sleep would arouse too much suspicion. With his mom leaving the house, Jack thought it would be perfectly safe for them to put their damp clothes in the dryer and take a nap.
Later that day, after they rested, they talked about the hotel again.
“Are we going back tonight?” asked Stephen.
“Damn right,” said Ben.
“I’d like to know what he meant by putting up the laser and this small puzzle,” said Jack. “Did he mean the puzzle was the laser, or did we miss another puzzle?”
“Maybe the arrow and the hatch was the puzzle,” said Stephen.
“I guess,” mumbled Jack. He was trying to remember every detail of the previous night, but it seemed too much like a dream.
Leaving the house that night, they were more nervous than before. Jack paused at every noise as they put on their dark clothes and made their way to the back door. He even went back once, convinced he heard someone coming down the stairs. Once out the door, they were fine. They moved with confidence through the woods.
At the hotel, they had an argument over their next step.
Stephen said, “We still don’t know if we can trust anything from the letter. We should look through one of the windows and see if it really is empty.”
“But if we mess with the place, we might not get another delivery of money,” said Ben. “Let’s just press the button and get out of here.”
They reached a compromise: press the button, see if anything happened, and then explore the perimeter of the hotel. The porch roof creaked and seemed less stable. The laser was still on, and they found the hatch right where they remembered. It was a strange feeling — confirming their surreal memories.
“Okay, so press it,” said Jack.
Ben peered at Jack — “I thought you were going to press it.”
“Wait!” said Stephen. “What if it’s a bomb or something?”
“This is a weird time to think of that,” said Ben.
“I can’t help it,” said Stephen. “It just seems like it could be a bad thing.”
“Well then tell my mom goodbye,” said Ben as he reached out and hit the button. He pressed it all the way in — it sank more than he expected. A loud “CLICK” made them jump. Ben felt the click through his switch-finger as well.
“Hey, the laser’s out,” Stephen noticed.
“I know it was on when we came up here,” said Jack.
“Probably turned off by the button,” offered Ben.
They paused, not sure what to do next.
“Press it again,” said Jack.
“Why?” asked Ben.
“Just do it.”
“Okay,” said Ben.
Ben pushed the button again. There was no click this time so he held his finger in for a moment and then released.
“Wait,” said Stephen, “did you hear that? Do it again.”
“Hear what?” asked Jack. Jack and Ben turned to Stephen.
“I heard something behind that wall,” answered Stephen. “When you held the button in, there was a sliding noise or something.”
“I didn’t hear anything, but whatever,” said Ben. He pressed the button a third time and held it. They all held their breath and listened with all their energy. After a few moments, Ben’s shoulders slumped and he began to remove his finger from the button. Then they all heard it.
A scraping sound began somewhere inside the hotel. Jack pressed his ear against the side of the building and Ben cocked his head to try to focus the sound. It sounded like a heavy piece of metal being dragged across stone or rough concrete. After about five seconds, the sound stopped and a the same “CLICK” repeated itself.
“Sounds done, whatever it was doing,” said Ben. “But maybe we should try again?”
“Not yet — let’s think about this,” said Jack. “It really did sound like something was opening or closing in there. And I get the feeling that it was completed.”
“Yeah,” said Stephen, “it moved and finished.”
“Let’s see if anything changed,” said Jack.
The three of them poured over the section of wall they could reach from the porch roof. Inside the small wooden compartment, where the laser used to come out, and around and above — they could find no more holes, latches, or compartments.
“Now what?” said Stephen. “Are we missing something?”
“I wish we had the letter with us,” said Jack. “I think there’s more to that than we saw.”
“Let’s go see if we can look inside,” said Stephen. “I think we’re done up here.”
The hotel had engaged them now — captivated their attention. No longer tentative, they stalked around the back of the hotel looking for a way to see inside. One of the boarded up windows had a corner that was slightly exposed. Each took a turn pressing their eye up to the hole and shining a flashlight in. It was so dark in the hole that it took Ben several minutes to realize that they were only seeing a dozen inches.
“There’s concrete inside that window,” said Ben. “Check it out — there’s nothing to see.”
By holding the light up to another gap in the opening, Ben illuminated the gap between the plywood and a solid concrete wall on the other side of the window.
“What the hell?” asked Stephen. “Let’s find another.”
Along the back wall they found two more holes and confirmed the story of the first window. As far as they could tell, the windows opened to nothing more than a solid wall.
“Does this make any sense at all?” asked Jack.
Eight the next morning they were up. They figured Jack’s mom would get suspicious if they had too many mornings of sleeping late, so their plan was to get up and dressed by eight-thirty. Groggy, Jack tried to force himself to act normal. His dad was working at home that morning — catching up on paperwork.
Ben and Stephen sat at the kitchen table and poured cereal. Jack stood near the refrigerator and debated what to have. His mom walked in and sat a bag of newspapers on the counter.
“Oh, hi boys, you’re awful quiet — I didn’t know you were in here,” said Jack’s mom.
“Hey mom,” said Jack.
“Hi Mrs. Randolph,” said Ben.
“Good morning, Ben,” she said. “Do you want something cooked for breakfast?”
“No thanks. Cereal’s good,” said Ben.
Jack’s dad materialized from the door to the office. “Hey,” he said, “everyone’s here!”
“Hi dad,” said Jack.
“Jack, Ben, Stephen, I’ve got a favor to ask of you this morning,” said Jack’s dad. “I was talking to the sheriff yesterday afternoon.”
Jack studied his father for a sign of trouble and, sensing none, tossed a look of caution to Ben and Stephen who had stopped breakfast mid-chew.
Jack’s dad continued: “He’s very interested in the shells you found at the pits. He said they match the type used by the boys he suspects of killing dogs. He’d like to talk with you this morning.”
“Okay!” said Jack. “When?”
“Hand me a glass — would’ya Bub?” said Jack’s dad. “He’s coming by this morning some time, so just stay in the house until he comes by.”
Jack handed him a glass from the cabinet and his dad filled it from the sink.
“No problem, dad. We’ll just hang out in my room,” said Jack.
Jack started to head out of the kitchen towards the stairs.
“Aren’t you going to have any breakfast?” asked his mom.
“Oh yeah,” said Jack as he turned and went back to the kitchen table.
Sheriff Kurtwood sat in the big chair in the living room. Rather, he sat on the edge of the big chair. When Jack was a kid he used to curl up in that chair sometimes and take a nap so he could hear his dad working in the adjoining office. The sheriff hunched forward over the coffee table, where his notebook and day-planner were open — he was flipping through his calendar.
Ben, Jack, and Stephen sat on the couch opposite the sheriff.
“So,” the sheriff began, “you said you were hiking on the fifth?”
“Yes,” said Jack. “July fifth — it was the day after we went to the fair.”
The sheriff flipped backwards to the previous page of his notebook. “Huh,” he said. He scanned down the page with his finger and tapped the page. “Your dad said your mom found the casings when she was doing laundry on Sunday. But you found them on the fifth.”
“Yeah,” reiterated Jack, “it must have been before the sixth, because I still had my sling on.” He pointed to his right arm.
“That’s right,” said Stephen. “He reached for the casings, but couldn’t get them because of his arm, so I had to get them.”
The sheriff studied Stephen during his interjection, and then looked back to Jack: “How long were you wearing a sling?”
“Three weeks. It smelled like cheese,” said Jack, wrinkling his nose.
“I bet,” he smiled. “And you were still reaching for things with your bad arm after three weeks?” asked the sheriff.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Jack.
“So, did you see who was shooting?” asked the sheriff.
“Nope,” said Jack.
Sheriff Kurtwood wrote a note on his ledger and then turned to Ben. “You’re quiet.”
Ben simply looked back.
“You boys aren’t in any trouble with me,” said the sheriff. “Your dad said he grounded you for being over at the quarry, but I don’t think you kids were up to any harm. You can tell me exactly what happened over there — I’m not going to be angry. You may just do something good; those are bad guys.”
“Honest, Sheriff, we just found those casings,” said Ben. “There wasn’t anybody there but us when we found them.”
“Okay then,” said the sheriff. He wrote a few more notes and then looked up. “You can go. Send your dad in here please.”
Downstairs Jack and Ben grabbed a soccer ball and headed outside. Stephen was on the phone talking to his mother about extending his stay. Outside, Ben and Jack congratulated each other on surviving the pressure of talking to a sheriff without cracking.
“Don’t know yet,” said Stephen as he caught up with his friends.
The three boys sat down in the grass. They had settled about halfway to the woods so Jack’s parents wouldn’t hear them talking. In a rough triangle they rolled the ball to each other while they talked.
“What’s the problem?” asked Ben.
“She’s got to get the flight changed,” answered Stephen. “And I was supposed to have a swimming class.”
“Hey, you know what’s weird?” asked Jack.
“What?” asked Ben.
“When that sheriff was talking I had an idea about the letter,” answered Jack. “He asked me why I was still reaching for things after three weeks.”
Stephen had the ball; he tried to twirl it on his finger. “Yeah — that was dumb of me to say that,” he said.
“Yeah it was,” agreed Ben.
“Well anyway,” continued Jack, “why would that guy set up a trust to pay the taxes, but say he can’t keep pouring money into the thing without getting anything back?”
“Nothing about that letter made sense though,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, but this guy is so intent on protecting that place, but he gave up and moved away?” continued Jack.
“And there’s clearly something going on with that button,” said Ben, joining the conversation.
“Do you think there’s concrete behind all the windows?” asked Stephen.
“How would you get in?” laughed Jack.
“Maybe that’s the point,” said Ben. “It’s like full of zombies and shit — he doesn’t want people to get eaten.”
“Sounded like grinding concrete when you were hitting that button,” said Stephen.
“Hey!” said Jack. “Maybe it was opening one of the windows.”
“Maybe a secret door or something?” asked Ben.
“We’re never going to get any sleep again, are we? We’ll just keep waking up at three o’clock to try to figure out that stupid empty building,” joked Jack.
“How often do you get seven hundred dollars and a crazy empty hotel to figure out?” asked Ben.
That night rain ruled out any adventures. They curled up in their fort, with special viewing holes to see the television. The sound was turned down, and they only payed attention every ten minutes so they could see the local radar on the weather channel.
Huddled beneath their blanket ceiling, their conversation rambled and turned through a variety of subjects while they passed the time, but the subject kept returning to what their lives would be like when they were older.
“I think I’m going to live in southern California mostly, but I’ll have a place in the mountains too. Maybe the Rockies,” said Stephen.
“My dad says it’s a terrible time to buy real estate,” said Ben. “You should think about getting an RV and driving back and forth.”
“No way — I’m not living in a tin can,” sneered Stephen.
“I’ve seen some cool RV’s, but I don’t know if I’d want to live in one,” added Jack.
“Yeah,” said Stephen, “plus land always increases in value. It’s the best investment.”
“You know, I think it’s more important to figure out what you want to do for a living, and then decide where you’re going to live based on that,” said Jack.
“I’m going to retire early anyway,” said Stephen. “But I still want to live someplace I like.”
“Definitely,” said Ben. “But if you’re mobile, you can live anywhere.”
“That’s retarded,” said Stephen. “I’ve got to have a big place, so I can spread out.”
“I’ve seen your house now. It’s not that big,” countered Ben.
“Exactly,” said Stephen. “I’m tired of being cramped.”
“I think I want to be a scientist or a professor,” said Jack.
“Ugh. That sounds awful,” said Stephen. “Don’t you want to be a baseball player or something?”
“I’m being realistic,” said Jack.
“Realistic doesn’t have to be boring,” said Ben. “Least you could do is hope to be like the most famous scientist ever, or something. You know, like invent teleportation or something?”
“Maybe I will,” said Jack. “But as long as I’m working on something I like, it doesn’t need to be cool.”
“You’ll never get premium tail being a scientist,” said Stephen.
“What do you mean?” asked Jack, completely naive.
“Are you serious?” laughed Stephen. “I’m talking about tail, you know poontang? Pussy?”
Jack was slow to understand.
“Is your boy serious?” Stephen asked Ben. He turned back to Jack — “You’re not a homo, are you? It’s okay if you are. Are you?” he snickered.
The expectant look on Stephen’s face gave Jack the appropriate answer. “What? No way — screw you,” said Jack.
“I think you just might,” said Stephen, still chuckling.
“Whatever,” interjected Ben. “I don’t see you with any girlfriends.”
“I’ve had my moments,” said Stephen, suddenly defensive.
“I just think it would be cool to be a scientist and get paid to figure stuff out,” said Jack.
“I’d like to be an actor, or a musician,” said Ben. “Maybe both.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely the way. You don’t have to work much, and you get paid a ton,” agreed Stephen.
“Well you better be a really good actor if you want to have two houses,” said Jack.
“I already am, son. Already am,” confirmed Stephen. “Besides, my dad’s got more money than he needs. I’ll just get some from him. Plus I’ve got my share of seven hundred dollars per year.”
The full night’s sleep was welcome, but made the boys anxious to return to their adventure. It was still raining in the morning when Jack’s mom offered to take the boys on her errands.
“Where are you going?” asked Jack.
She consulted her list: “Grocery, hardware, and card store.”
Jack conferred with Ben and Stephen — they agreed a trip would be a good diversion. The clouds would clear in the afternoon and they had high hopes that the weather that night would be conducive to another hotel visit. Once they made the decision, the day dragged.
“We’ll go, but can we hang around the stores while you’re at the grocery?” asked Jack.
“You can go as far as the pet store. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Jack.
“Okay, you got money?” Jack asked Ben.
“Yeah, what are we getting?” asked Ben.
“Stud finder,” said Jack.
They were walking down the aisle of the last remaining small hardware shop in town. After the Home Depot came to town, the other hardware store and lumber yard had closed. His parents still came to this small place because it was close and they knew the owners.
Stephen was testing the measuring tapes. “Doesn’t your dad have one of those?” he asked.
“Yeah, but this one has a deep scanning mode,” answered Jack. “He told me he was going to buy it so he could find power cords in walls before he drilled. I was going to get it for him for Father’s day, but then I forgot.”
“So why do we want it now?” asked Ben. “That thing’s like forty bucks.”
“We can use it to find out what that button’s hooked up to,” said Jack. “Besides, I’ll pay you back — I’m going to give it to my dad for his birthday.”
“So it finds power cords, and you think we can follow the power coming off of the button?”
“Yeah, why not?” asked Jack.
“It just doesn’t sound like something that would work,” replied Ben.
“Well then maybe it will be able to tell if there’s concrete behind every window,” said Jack.
“That would be cool,” said Stephen. “Would it really do that?”
Jack paused — “I don’t know, but the plastic comes off without ripping, so I can just put it back in the package and give it to my dad in August.”
Ben laughed — “Good enough for me.”
They paid for the stud finder and made their way outside where Jack’s mom was waiting.
“What did you buy?” she asked.
“Birthday present for dad,” Jack replied.
“A little early, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t want to forget again,” said Jack. His mom smiled.
Late that night at the hotel, they huddled again on the porch roof and tried to decipher the nature of the button. Jack’s deep-scanning method was only slightly successful. He would get a firm idea of the direction of the wire and then lose the signal.
Pressing the button yielded much better scanning results, but after the grinding sound stopped and the button clicked, it stopped showing up on the detector.
“This is pointless,” said Stephen.
“You heard the noise,” reminded Ben. “There’s got to be something going on when it makes that noise.”
“My grandmother used to have a doorbell that sounded like dogs barking,” retorted Stephen. “Do you think there was something going on with that as well?”
“You know,” started Jack, “the more I think about it, he can’t be hiding something valuable. If what he’s hiding was worth anything, he wouldn’t spend money to build a hotel, set up a trust, and then give up. It’s got to be something bad he’s hiding.”
Ben sat down on the roof with his back to the wall and looked out into the night. “Like what?” he asked.
“Maybe he buried bodies here,” said Stephen and sat down next to Ben.
“Yeah, like that,” said Jack. “He was pouring money into this to keep a secret that would have hurt him.”
“Must be a really bad secret,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” Jack said as he sat next to his friends, “maybe it is bodies. Well, whatever it is, it looks like he might have sealed the place up with concrete to keep…”
“Shhh!” ordered Ben. “Listen,” he whispered as he pressed his ear to the wall.
All three pressed their ears to wall and listened carefully to the same grinding sound they had heard earlier. It continued for several seconds and then ended with a thump and a loud click.
“That click is coming from up there. It sounds like a latch or something,” said Ben as he pointed up. He shone his light on the wall about seven feet up from where they stood.
“We have to get up there,” said Jack.
“Yeah,” agreed Stephen, “do you have a ladder?”
“Of course,” said Jack. “But we can’t carry it all the way out here.”
“See — there’s a secret door up there,” said Ben. “I told you guys.”
“Maybe,” said Stephen. “Hard to prove without a ladder.”
“Hey,” said Ben, “don’t you have a step-ladder in the garage?”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Do you think that would be tall enough?”
“We can find out,” said Ben. “Let’s go.”
“Tonight?” asked Jack. “You want to go back to the house and come back here tonight?”
“It won’t take that long,” said Ben.
“Yeah, but by the time we back here we won’t have any time even if we do find something,” said Jack.
“Come on,” said Stephen, “we have hours until dawn.”
“Less than two,” said Jack. “The sun rises at 5:10 today. And it takes us twenty minutes to get back to the house from here.”
“We’ve got to get that restriction lifted,” said Stephen. “Then we could be here all day.”
“We doing this or not?” asked Ben.
“We’d have to jog the whole way,” said Jack. “And we have to leave here by quarter of five. And we have to bring the ladder back with us.”
“Let’s go,” said Ben, “what’s stopping us?”
“Just sanity,” laughed Stephen.
“What do you see?” asked Jack.
Ben got to go first up the ladder. The folded ladder leaned against the building for support. Ben was on the next-to-last step while Jack and Stephen held it in place.
The mission to retrieve the ladder had gone almost perfectly. To avoid using the noisy garage door, they used the back door of the garage which was very close to the neighbors house. When leaving by the basement door they had the advantage of a hill that blocked the neighbors view and a deck that shielded them from above.
With the ladder in-hand, they felt naked crossing the yard. The neighbor’s dog barked. Jack kept his calm and moved at an even pace which forced Ben to suppress his urge to run. Even moving slowly, they had a couple of sketchy moments where they almost crashed into objects in the yard.
Now, at the hotel, Ben stretched up to determine if the wall had a hidden door build into it.
“Press the button,” said Ben.
“Hold on,” said Stephen. “You got it?” he asked Jack.
“Yeah, I can hold this,” answered Jack.
Stephen reached through the bottom steps of the ladder and pressed the button. After an initial click, the grinding sound began almost at once.
“Hey!” said Ben, “I can hear it — it’s right here. Keep pushing.”
“Like I was going to stop?” asked Stephen.
As before, the grinding stopped after several seconds, and Stephen felt and heard a loud click.
“Oh shit!” yelled Ben, atop the ladder.
“What? What is it?” asked Jack, trying to see around Ben in the night.
“The wall moves,” answered Ben. “It swings inward. It looked completely solid until that last click and then it gave way.”
“Open it!” said Stephen.
“Okay,” said Ben. He braced his knees against the building and pressed the section of wall he had been leaning on. The left side stopped after pushing in an inch, but the right side swung inward until it was perpendicular to the wall. The door measured two feet high and three feet wide. The top and bottom of the hatch were aligned on the edges of clapboards and the right and left sides were tight enough that the seams barely showed until Ben pressed the door open.
He swung the door inward until it stopped, revealing a rectangular hole in the side of the building. The bottom of the hatch was even with his stomach.
“Hand me a flashlight.” Ben extended his right hand down and beckoned.
“You’re going to have to grab it,” said Stephen. “I can’t reach.”
Annoyed, Ben reluctantly descended a few steps to grab the proffered light. Shining the light into the hole he was surprised.
“Wow,” said Ben. “It’s deep.”
“How deep?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know — I can’t see the bottom,” said Ben.
“What else can you see?” asked Stephen.
“Come down so we can have a chance to see,” said Jack.
“Jeez, give me a minute,” said Ben.
They took turns surveying the hatch and the hole it revealed. Their first glimpse inside the hotel showed them a vertical passageway that was about four feet to the opposite wall. The column was only as wide as the hatch — about three feet. Jack was the first to gauge the depth of the hole by shining two flashlights down at once. He reported that it looked about twenty feet deep, which put the floor at ground-level below the porch roof. Jack also noticed that the sides of the passage disappeared halfway down, suggesting a larger room below.
When it was Stephen’s turn atop the ladder, he immediately stuck his head through and looked up. “Hey,” he said. “There’s the concrete thing we keep hearing.”
Above the hole, a block of concrete was poised above the hatch door. Stephen surmised it would slide back into place when the hatch door was closed. His next discovery astonished the boys.
“There’s a switch!” said Stephen. The passage was capped about six inches over the hatch door, and on that ceiling, was mounted a single light-switch.
“Should I flip it?” he asked.
“Hold up,” said Ben. He went over to the edge of the roof and climbed down rapidly. Jack stood, holding the ladder, and Stephen waited up at the hatch. A few seconds later a stick landed at Jack’s feed.
“Hand that up,” said Ben, climbing back on to the porch roof again.
Jack handed Stephen the stick. Balanced on the ladder, holding the flashlight in one hand and the stick in the other, Stephen tried to flip the switch with the end of the stick.
“Got it,” said Stephen, several tries later.
“Anything?” asked Jack.
“Don’t know yet. I’m going to lean in,” said Stephen. He looked up at the concrete block hanging over the doorway. He poked his head through and looked around. “Wait — there’s a light down there.”
“Awesome,” said Jack, “what else do you see.”
“That’s about it,” replied Stephen. “You can see the bottom and some light, but it must be around a corner or something.”
“Hey guys,” said Ben, looking at his watch. “It’s quarter of.”
“We’re going to need a rope or something anyway,” said Stephen.
Jack climbed down first; Stephen and Ben handed the ladder down to him. Exhausted, they managed to get back to the house right at dawn. The neighbor to the north, with the dog, should have seen them — he was leaving his house for a jog while they hustled the ladder back into the garage. But he seemed intent on his radio and didn’t glance their direction.
Sleep, it turned out, was not an option that night. Weary, they climbed into their fort and got into sleep positions, but their minds raced with the implications of what they had seen. They whispered ideas back and forth. Jack was focused on how to make it in and out of the building safely. Ben wondered when they could get back over there, and Stephen wanted to guess what they might find. They were just beginning to doze when they heard parents stirring around upstairs.
At breakfast, Jack’s mom could sense something was wrong.
“You boys look like death warmed over,” she said. “Aren’t you sleeping well downstairs?”
“I guess so,” said Jack. His head was propped up with one arm as he lifted cereal to his mouth.
“I think you should move upstairs,” she said. “Ben, you and Stephen can sleep in the guest room and then you’ll all have beds.”
“It’s okay mom, we sleep fine downstairs,” said Jack. He was beginning to get alarmed at the trend of this conversation.
“What are we talking about?” asked Jack’s dad as he entered the kitchen. He crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a cup of yogurt.
“The boys aren’t sleeping well,” his mom said. “I thought they might want to switch to upstairs.”
“They probably aren’t getting enough exercise,” his dad said. He turned to face the three boys — “you’ve just been sitting around the house all week.”
“But we’re not allowed to go anywhere,” said Jack. He was about to continue, but his dad cut him off.
“Hold on, let me finish,” he paused to open his yogurt. “I was going to suggest that you could resume short hiking. Nothing out of the neighborhood.”
“Really?” said Jack — he looked to Ben and Stephen.
“Yes, really. You’ve had five days, I hope that’s enough to impress upon you the importance of avoiding trouble,” he continued.
The boys were riveted.
“You can go as far as the power lines, but not past them,” he said. “And if you see anything suspicious or dangerous, you’re to let us know immediately.”
“Of course!” offered Jack.
“But, we also want you to sleep inside at night, and put away the camping gear,” he added.
“And, you need to keep a journal of your trips,” said his mom. “No less than two hundred words apiece.” His mom had always been big on writing and had pushed Jack in that direction every chance she got. Jack wasn’t bothered by this condition, he knew he could knock out two hundred words in no time. Ben and Stephen looked nervous at the proposition.
“I’ve got to get to work,” said Jack’s dad. “You boys be good. See ya, honey,” he said to his wife and then strode from the kitchen.
Outside, the boys dove into the task of dismantling their campsite. They buzzed with excitement at the idea of being able to regain some freedom.
“I was just starting to like being nocturnal,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, well we’re going to have to be extra careful,” said Ben.
“I’ve got an idea about the hatch, and the drop on the inside,” said Jack.
Ben looked up — “Yeah, what?”
“We’ve got an emergency fire ladder,” said Jack. “It’s in the chest in the guest room. It’s one of those rope things that you hook to the window-sill.”
“Can we get it out of the house?” asked Stephen. “Let’s go right now.”
“That would be too suspicious,” said Ben. “Let’s say we’re going to plan a trip for this afternoon and then we’ll have plenty of time to figure everything out.”
“Good plan,” said Jack.
They were scared to approach the hotel in daylight. The day was still and hot — the boys sweated as they huddled in the woods behind the building, watching carefully. In the distance, they could hear the occasional car on the road that bordered the other side of the hotel, but nothing stirred near them. Jack felt they were being watched.
Ben was the first to dare into the field — hunched over, he trotted up the drainage ditch to the corner of the building. He wore a backpack containing the rope ladder. Briefly looking down the sides of the building, he gave Jack and Stephen a thumbs-up.
Jack and Stephen followed Ben’s path to the hotel, carrying the stepladder between them. When they got to the back of the hotel, they propped the ladder against the side of the building and Ben climbed up on top of the back porch roof. The other two followed and Jack reached over the side and managed to haul the ladder on the porch roof with them.
With no discussion, they took their places. They had planned these steps all morning. Stephen held the ladder, Ben pressed the button, and Jack climbed up to open the hatch as soon as he heard the click.
“Okay, hand me the rope-ladder,” said Jack.
Ben opened his backpack, withdrew a jumble of rope and plastic rungs and handed two hooks up to Jack. Setting the hooks on the lip of the entrance, Jack fed the ladder inside the building. He peered into the darkness, trying to see how far the ladder extended.
“Hit the switch,” said Stephen from below.
“Oh yeah,” said Jack. He reached up and flipped the switch mounted to the ceiling of the hatch. “I think it goes almost all the way down.”
“Come back down for a second,” said Ben.
When Jack reached the porch roof the three stood in a circle, eye-to-eye. “What’s up?” asked Jack.
“Okay,” said Ben, “this is where it gets serious. We could get into real trouble for going in here, and not just being grounded. There could be really dangerous stuff ahead — we don’t even know what.”
“Anything is possible,” said Stephen, “but we’ll just take it slow and we’ll be fine.”
“Who’s going down?” asked Jack.
“I want to,” said Ben. “But I’m just going to go down the ladder, look around, and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “but I get to go second.”
“And I get your video games if you don’t come back,” added Stephen.
“We should have brought the walkie-talkies,” said Jack.
“You’ll be able to hear me,” said Ben. “It’s not that far.” He started up the stepladder. When he reached the top, he turned around and lifted his leg backwards through the hole. Jack and Stephen watched as he disappeared into the hatch. When his right hand let go of the edge Jack went up the ladder to look over the side. Ben was about halfway down the ladder.
“Can you see anything yet?” Jack asked.
“Nothing yet,” said Ben. He paused and leaned back and to his left. “Well, there’s a room down here.”
Jack held the hooks attached to the edge of the wall. Ben dropped the few feet from the bottom of the ladder to the floor and then took a couple of tentative steps away from the wall. His head turned for a few seconds, like he was scanning the room, and then he turned back to the ladder.
“Coming back up,” Ben said. When he was at the top, Jack cleared out of his way and they reconvened on the porch roof.
“It’s not very big,” said Ben. “Maybe a little smaller than your room,” he pointed to Jack. “Three of the walls are blank — kinda white or gray. There’s a picture of a man on one wall; like a biology picture or something. No doors or anything, but on the right wall there’s a ladder attached to the wall and a hole in the ceiling. I couldn’t see up there because it was dark.”
“Any vents, or outlets, or anything?” asked Jack.
“Nope, just blank walls,” said Ben. “I think the floor is concrete.”
“What kind of ladder?” asked Stephen. “Would it hold us?”
“Yeah, I think so,” said Ben. “Looked real sturdy.”
“We’ve got lights — let’s go,” said Jack.
“I think only one of us should go all the way in,” said Ben. “What if the hatch closes behind us, or something else happens. We need someone to go back to your house and tell your mom.”
“That sucks though,” said Stephen.
“Well, look,” said Ben, “you guys can go and see the ladder and I’ll stay here for now.”
“Yeah, and we’ll come back when we figure out where the ladder goes,” said Jack.
“Just make sure one of you stays close enough so I can hear if you yell or something,” said Ben.
“Okay,” said Stephen, “I’ll stay at the bottom this time.”
With that agreement, they took their places. At the bottom of the rope ladder, Jack and Stephen were impressed with Ben’s understatement. Three walls were blank, but the fourth wall was an amazing depiction of the inner workings of the human body. The painting was life-sized and stood about six-feet tall. The left half mostly showed skin and the right was a collection of muscles, bones, and organs.
“Wow,” exhaled Jack.
“This thing is creepy,” Stephen yelled up the chimney to Ben.
Ben didn’t meet Stephen’s gaze, but replied: “I know.”
“Okay,” Jack said to Stephen, “let’s check out this next ladder.”
They reviewed the ladder that was attached to the side wall. It was wooden and nailed together. Made sturdy by its attachment, it didn’t look like it would stand alone. At the ceiling the ladder passed through a hole cut into the drywall — the ceiling was about a foot thick and the sides of the hole were framed with lumber. Jack shone his light and realized that the ladder went just higher than the ceiling, stopped for a few inches, and then another section of ladder continued. The darkness above swallowed their lights, but it looked like there was a room up there.
“You ready?” asked Stephen.
“Don’t rush me,” said Jack.
“Want me to go?”
“No way.” Jack tucked his flashlight into his back pocket and started up the ladder — testing each rung. When his head was level with the ceiling, he paused and pulled out his light. He swept it around the space above him.
“Can’t see much,” said Jack. “There’s definitely a room, but it must be pretty big — I can’t see the walls.”
Jack put the flashlight in his mouth and climbed another rung. He was twisted away from the wall so he would see what was in the space behind him.
“Anything?” asked Stephen.
From just outside, Stephen heard Ben — “What’s going on?”
“He’s looking — there’s a room,” answered Stephen.
His left foot up to the next run, Jack prepared to rise into the room above. He looked around one last time and reached past the gap with his left hand. As Stephen watched, his impatience grew.
“What do you see?” Stephen asked.
Jack’s mouth was full of flashlight, but he began to answer as his left hand grasped the rung that was in the room above — “Huuu oy” he said and then several things happened at once. Jack bit down hard on the light, his body went rigid, and a panel began to seal the hole in the ceiling — closing at a measured pace towards Jack’s hand. He fell from his perch on the ladder, letting go of the rung just as the panel sealed shut above him. Stephen’s jaw fell open at the sight of Jack in a pile at his feet.
He rushed to Jack’s aid — “What happened?” he asked.
Spitting out the flashlight, Jack raised his hand to look at it. Stephen was now staring up at the ceiling — the panel fitting nicely into the gap in the ladder.
“It shocked me,” Jack finally announced. “Hey! Go back up there,” he yelled at Ben who was descending the rope-ladder.
“Okay, whatever,” Ben said and started back up.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Jack.
The two climbed out, pulled up the rope-ladder, and joined Ben on the porch roof.
“Maybe it’s not safe to hang out here,” said Jack. “Let’s go in the woods.”
“But what happened?” asked Stephen.
“I’ll tell you away from here,” said Jack.
They collected their gear and crept back to the the path in the woods. Just out of sight of the hotel, they formed a small circle to discuss the event.
“It was some kind of shock,” said Jack.
“Like electrified?” asked Ben.
“Yeah,” said Jack, “when I touched the rung above the ceiling, I felt it in my fingers. I think the backs of the rung had metal or something. At first I couldn’t let go and I thought that door was going to crush my hand.” Jack rubbed his left hand.
“What door?” said Ben.
“It was like a trap door that shut off the hole,” said Stephen. “It must have been triggered when he touched that ladder; it was moving fast.”
“You have to be grounded to get shocked,” said Ben.
“Maybe the other part of the ladder was electrified too,” said Jack. “All I know is I started to grab that rung and when my hand closed on it, I got shocked.”
A branch cracked behind Stephen and their heads snapped around. When they saw no threat Jack sighed and they all relaxed a bit. For a moment they were silent as they collected their thoughts.
Ben spoke first — “Do you think you could get it open?” he asked.
“What?” Jack was astonished. “You want to go back there? It’s a trap.”
“It’s not a trap,” said Stephen. “He doesn’t want us getting in, but he didn’t try to trap us.”
“But it’s dangerous,” argued Jack. “Even if we do get the panel open, who knows what else is there.”
“We’ll have to be careful,” said Ben, “but what you found just makes it even more likely that there’s something worth hiding in there.”
“Look at my hand.” Jack held up his palm to Ben and Stephen. A line of blisters stood out across the top of his palm. “This guy is not afraid to hurt us.”
“But it could have been worse,” countered Stephen. “I think he wanted us to get scared off, not hurt.”
Jack tried a different tack — “We just promised my parents that we would run to them the second we found anything dangerous. Don’t you think this qualifies?”
“The first thing they’ll ask is ‘Why didn’t you tell us about this before, Jack?’” said Ben. “I mean, we’re really deep in this now. No way we’re telling them we’ve been trying to figure out how to break in this hotel for days.”
“You gotta admit, this is the coolest thing you’ve ever seen,” said Stephen.
“No way — we’re not going near that place again.”
“Oh, come on,” said Ben. “We have to go back in a week, to see if anyone puts money there.”
“Yeah, they’ll probably figure out we broke in and shoot us,” said Jack.
“Oh please,” sighed Ben.
They argued all the way back to Jack’s house. His mom was out so they had no problem sneaking the ladder back into the garage. They had a late lunch of peanut-butter sandwiches while Jack put ice on his fingers.
Stephen was the first to bring up the hotel. In a hushed tone, he said “Look, we have to go back.” he looked at Ben. Turning to Jack — “You don’t have to go if you don’t want.”
“Yeah, right,” said Jack. “I’m not letting you guys get yourselves killed.”
“Hey!” said Ben, brightening. “What if we cut power to the place?”
“How are we going to do that?” asked Jack. “That’s probably more dangerous than the traps.”
“Besides, the hatch must be powered,” said Stephen. “We won’t be able to get in if we cut the power. Why don’t you just grow a pair, Jack?”
“Look,” said Jack, “this is simple — we’re not going back, and if you guys try, I’m going to tell my parents. It’s just too dangerous.”
The boys were silenced by the impasse.
When Ben awoke Saturday morning, he was in a good mood until Stephen reminded him of Jack’s threat. Their room shared a wall with Jack’s parents, so they conspired quietly.
“You gotta talk to him,” Stephen said to Ben.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Ben. “He seemed like his mind was made up.”
“There’s probably something really cool in there though,” said Stephen. “I gotta know.”
“Okay,” said Ben. He threw off his covers and checked the clock. It was seven in the morning. Cracking the door, he looked down the hall and noted that all the bedroom doors were closed. Ben slipped into the hallway and closed the door silently behind him. Tapping once on Jack’s door, he let himself in. On his bed, Jack studied the letter they had found.
“Hey,” said Ben.
“Hey,” Jack replied. “I think I figured part of this out.”
“Oh yeah?” said Ben.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “It has several riddles in it and there’s a code to it, too.”
“Yeah?”
“And he makes direct reference to the trap I hit, as well as others,” said Jack.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Anyway, if I’m right, it means there’s another trap in that room.”
“Why would he tell us about the trap though?” asked Ben.
“I don’t know — maybe it’s an invitation, or maybe it’s an even bigger trap,” said Jack.
“Well I just wanted to tell you that Stephen and I will stay away, if that’s what you want,” offered Ben.
Jack studied his eyes. “Okay,” said Jack. “But I think we have to check it out a little more.”
“What made you change your mind?” asked Ben.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I guess I figure since he warned us here, and since we know we have to be more careful, we can probably stay safe enough. Besides, it’s a really cool letter, once you figure it out.”
“Cool,” said Ben. “I’ll go wake up sleeping beauty.”
“Oh, I bet he’s already awake,” said Jack.
“Huh?”
“He wakes up early to watch you as you’re still sleeping,” said Jack. “I saw him do it in the tent about a million times.”
“What?” said Ben.
Jack chuckled — “You’re dumb.”
“Very funny.”
Ben crept back to the guest room where Stephen was looking for clothes to put on.
“What did he say?” whispered Stephen.
“We’re on,” answered Ben. “He has seen the light.”
“You the man!” said Stephen. “Let’s keep moving so he doesn’t change this mind.”
After they boys cleaned up and had breakfast, they went back up to Jack’s room to plan. Huddled around the letter, they tried to predict what they’d find and how to counter it. Jack was keeping a list of the supplies they thought they would need.
“So, here’s what I think,” started Jack. “You see this code at the bottom that says ‘6C 1B 7F 80 0D 5F F6 CB?’”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Stephen.
“It’s hexadecimal,” said Jack. Ben and Stephen looked for further explanation. “It’s a computer numbering system — base sixteen.” he continued, but they still looked at him blankly. “Don’t they teach you about computers at your fancy schools?” he taunted.
“Anyway,” started Jack, “Each of these digits is like four pieces of information. A zero or one — it’s called ‘binary.’”
“What does that have to do with the letter?” asked Ben.
“Well, see how each paragraph begins with a zero or a one? That was my first clue that it was binary. There’s eight paragraphs and, after the first digit, seven sentences. I think he’s telling us which sentences are true and false,” said Jack.
“Get out,” said Stephen.
“Check it out.” Jack pulled out a highlighter. “If you take the ‘6C’ and apply it to the first paragraph, it says that we should find a zero, two true sentences, and one false one.” He highlighted the first and second sentences. “Then you get true, true, false, false — see”
The paragraph now showed the pattern he had described:
0. I’m sure you’re curious as to why this letter encloses money. And I’m also sure you’re wondering why a beam of laser light signals this location. My motivations will become clear if you read this letter carefully. But I caution you — don’t take my benevolence for granted. Any breach of my rules will lead to dire consequences. All loyalty will be rewarded. Let me now answer your questions.
“So, he knows we’re curious, and we’re wondering about the light. Umm, he’snot going to make his motivations clear. Don’t take him for granted, and don’t break his rules. But, he doesn’t reward loyalty and this letter won’t answer our questions,” said Jack. “See?”
“Are you sure?” asked Ben. “Couldn’t it mean something else?”
“Well, it could,” responded Jack, “But the ones and zeros that start the paragraphs line up exactly with the first bit of all these numbers at the end. That doesn’t seem like a coincidence. Odds are one in two hundred and fifty-six.”
“Now you’re just making shit up,” challenged Stephen.
“No, seriously!” said Jack. “Haven’t you ever heard that there are eight bits in a byte?”
“Not really, no,” said Stephen.
Ben added, “True story — never heard it. But Stephen, you know that Jack is a serious hacker guy. He’s always breaking into stuff.”
Jack blushed — “That’s only with simple stuff. And this is not that difficult. Maybe back in ninety-one this would have been stuff that nobody knew, but today a lot of people would figure this out.”
“You weren’t even born in ninety-one. What do you know about it?” asked Ben.
“I read stuff,” said Jack. “And I have classes. You guys don’t even go to school, do you?” he joked. “Oh, but that reminds me — there’s another thing. If you look at the ones and zeros at the beginning of each paragraph, you see 00010011, right?”
“Yeah,” said Ben.
“Well that’s hex for nineteen. See, it’s got a sixteen, a two, and a one. That makes nineteen.”
“So?” asked Ben.
“Well it’s just that there’s a bunch of nineteens in the date here. July nineteen, nineteen-ninety-one.”
“I guess,” said Ben.
Stephen was more convinced — “Okay, okay, so what else does it say?” he said.
“Well, for one, it makes sense of why he contradicts himself about the money. It’s because this sentence where he says ‘I can’t keep pouring money into this place,’ is false. But before he says ‘Money hasn’t been a problem,’ and after he says ‘a private trust provides these funds and pays the taxes.’” Jack pointed rapidly from sentence to sentence, a complete graph of the true and false sentences in his head. “Those are both true, so it’s not a contradiction.”
“I didn’t follow any of that,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, really,” said Ben. “Jack — why don’t you just highlight all the true sentences so we can follow what you’re saying.”
“You guys can’t see the pattern?” asked Jack.
“No!” said Stephen.
“Okay, whatever,” said Jack. He skimmed through the letter and had the “true” sentences highlighted in less than a minute. Huddled around the paper, Ben and Stephen read the letter from the top.
July 19th, 1991
Dear Traveler,
0. I’m sure you’re curious as to why this letter encloses money. And I’m also sure you’re wondering why a beam of laser light signals this location. My motivations will become clear if you read this letter carefully. But I caution you — don’t take my benevolence for granted. Any breach of my rules will lead to dire consequences. All loyalty will be rewarded. Let me now answer your questions.
0. In my youth, I assembled a wealth of specialized knowledge. Around the same time, I achieved financial wealth. Money hasn’t been a problem for quite a while. Because I had time and means, I was able to build this hotel. After it was completed, I realized that I wouldn’t always be around to protect my treasure; and I can’t keep pouring money into this place without getting anything in return. Also, I realized that there was no one person I could trust and I’d love to see this place stand for half of fifty years. Little by little, I developed this plan.
0. I’m offering this money as a bribe to you. All you need to do is press the button before July 19th and come collect each year — a private trust provides these funds and pays all the taxes. Money, and a copy of this letter, will appear in this location: your reward for this small puzzle. But you need to take care that nobody sees you coming here. Across the field behind you, the woods provide good cover. Approach the hotel from those woods, if you would. Like me, you would be best served if nobody saw you at the hotel.
1. If I tell you a bit about my life, you may have a better understanding of my motivations. About ten years ago, I lost my wife. May she rest in peace. Bereft, I set my mind to assembling a definitive library of my experience. Avocation became determination, and I focused my energy. Almost to the exclusion of everything else, I concentrated on documenting and preserving my knowledge. Limited health forced me to rush at the end, and there are several areas I need to expand to make my opus complete.
0. In case you’re wondering — there’s nothing in this hotel that anyone besides me would find valuable. Although the documents I’ve assembled are incomplete, I did take the precaution of encrypting the information so only I could understand it. Maybe that will discourage you from doing something inadvisable. Betray my trust at your own risk. After a while, you’ll see the value in taking my bribe. Ask no questions and you’ll be enriched for doing almost nothing. Life hardly ever presents you with such an easy decision.
0. I can imagine what you’re thinking — “Is this a test?” Assuredly, it’s not. Many have tried and failed to discern the true meaning here. But don’t let that stop you from trying. Avarice will betray you. Aim high, but be ready to start at the bottom. Look to your heart when at the depths of despair; you’re looking into my deepest vulnerability, and it’s the Truth.
1. I’d like to offer you some more advice — it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain. And that pain contained great power. My resolve told me to climb again until I could make my way back to my feet. Backwards is never the answer, I found. Awake in this new life I feel more alive than ever. And, as my wife would have said, “Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.” Live and let live.
1. I hope you’ll take this bribe, and my small bits of information. Any other questions you might have will have to go unanswered. My sincerest apologies for the cryptic nature of this letter. But, take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again. A patient man can find his way out of any situation. A hasty man is almost never correct. Let’s consider this your Job.
“Wow,” said Ben, “this whole paragraph in the middle is false?”
“Yup,” said Jack. “All that stuff about his wife and why he built this.”
They read on further and then Ben remembered what Jack had said to him earlier — “Hey, where’s that part about the trap you were telling me.”
“It’s here,” Jack pointed. “He says ‘it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain.’ Well I was shocked when I took the first step to the higher level.”
“That’s a little dumb,” said Ben.
“Hey, screw you!” smiled Jack. “If I’m right, then we can test it out easy enough.”
“How’s that?” asked Ben.
“Because he says the light caused the pain,” answered Jack. “I bet that means that if we turn off that switch at the beginning, the door in the ceiling won’t close and we won’t get shocked.”
“True — that’s easy enough to test,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, but there’s more important stuff to figure out,” said Jack. “Like here,” Jack pointed, “when he says that there’s nothing valuable, it’s a lie.”
“Well,” said Ben, “how do we find out for sure?”
“The light thing will confirm it somewhat,” answered Jack. “But we’ll also have to keep watch for anything like a ‘King’s Bishop,’ or his ‘deepest vulnerability.’”
“Bishop like chess?” asked Stephen. “Let’s look that up.” he said as he moved over to Jack’s computer.
“Good idea,” said Jack.
“Hey,” said Ben, pointing at the letter, “why does he capitalize ‘job’ here at the end?”
“I don’t know — but this other sentence has a capital ‘truth’ in it,” said Jack.
“Oh,” said Stephen, “I’ve seen a capital truth before. My mom has a thing on the wall that her mom made, and it says ‘I am the Truth, the only light that must shine in your life because I am your Salvation.’ I memorized it for school one time.”
“What does it mean?” asked Ben.
“I don’t know,” said Stephen. “We just had to memorize a poem and it was really short.”
“That might make sense though,” said Jack. “What if he means look in his vulnerability to see light?”
“That’s just as bad as before though,” said Ben. “It doesn’t exactly make anything clearer.”
“I found something,” said Stephen. “Here’s the white King’s Bishop. He can only move on white squares.”
“Why the white ones?” asked Ben.
“Because white moves first, and he said first,” answered Jack.
“That’s right,” said Stephen.
“So if ‘Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear,’ then walking on white things must be safe,” said Jack.
“And that’s one of the true sentences?” Stephen asked.
“Yup,” Jack confirmed.
“Great,” said Ben.
“Hey, put something on that list to prop open that hatch. I don’t want to get stuck in that place,” said Stephen.
“Okay. Let’s go tell my mom that we’re going out to the woods,” said Jack.
“Nope. You need to stick around the house this morning,” Jack’s mom said.
“Aw mom!” protested Jack. “But it’s beautiful outside.”
“It’s not going to kill you to stick around for a few hours,” she said. “Your dad is out running errands, but he said you were to stay here until he got a chance to talk to you.”
“When’s he coming back?” asked Jack.
“He’ll be here at noon,” she said.
The boys spent the morning checking clocks and watching out the windows. Minutes before noon, a sheriff’s car pulled up at the curb, but the sheriff didn’t get out of his car. Stephen watched him from the living-room window while Jack and Ben went upstairs to make sure the letter and money were well hidden under Jack’s bed.
When they came back downstairs, the situation outside hadn’t changed.
“He’s just sitting there,” said Stephen. “Looks like he’s writing something.”
Jack’s dad pulled into the driveway at that moment. Instead of heading towards the door, he met the sheriff at the sidewalk. They shook hands and talked for a minute before coming inside.
“Boys?” yelled Jack’s dad as he came in the front door. “Oh, there you are.”
“What’s up, dad?” asked Jack.
“I was talking to the sheriff again this morning, and I want you to talk to him again. You three have a seat,” he pointed to the couch.
“Sure, Dad,” said Jack.
The sheriff sat down in the big chair again. He flipped through his notes for several moments before looking up at the boys. Jack’s dad stood behind him and to the left with his arm’s crossed.
“We had two young men in custody for shooting local pets,” Sheriff Kurtwood said, eyeing each of the boys.
Jack, Ben, and Stephen remained quiet.
“I said ‘had’ because they’re out on bail now,” said the sheriff.
“Oh,” said Jack.
“But,” the sheriff continued, “they were nervous and one of my deputies overheard them talking one night. They must have thought they were alone. This deputy is very quiet.”
Jack looked up at his dad who returned his gaze and held it.
“It seems that the two young men we had in custody seemed to think they had been witnessed by three boys,” the sheriff continued. “They also mentioned a man who was target-shooting, but I’m guessing that one wasn’t you.”
Jack looked at Ben and Stephen. His face pink and the tips of his ears red, Ben looked only at his own feet. Stephen, the complete opposite, looked comfortable and possibly even a little amused.
“We didn’t see anyone,” said Jack.
“You’re not going to be in trouble, Jack,” said the sheriff. “Not from me at least, and not from your dad. But, if these men think you turned them in, then that will be trouble.”
“Jack, if you saw something, then tell Sheriff Kurtwood — he’s here to help,” said Jack’s dad.
Ben looked up — “He’s telling the truth, he didn’t see anything,” he blurted out.
Everyone was silent, waiting for Ben’s confession.
“I got ahead of Stephen and Jack when we were hiking, and I saw two guys with a gun. I wasn’t sure if they saw me or not, but I really don’t think they saw Stephen and Jack, so maybe they were talking about some other kids.”
“What did they look like?” asked the sheriff.
“They were about six feet I guess,” said Ben. “One was skinny and smoking all the time. He had long side-burns and had a handgun tucked into his belt in back. The other one had long hair and carried a brown paper bag around.”
The sheriff wrote in his notebook and then asked “What day was this?”
Ben looked up and away, and said “Uh, the day after fireworks, so the fifth I guess.”
“Okay,” said the sheriff. “And where were you?”
“The pits, or quarry,” said Ben.
“And Stephen and Jack were?”
“Behind me somewhere. I got ahead.”
“And where did the older boys go?”
“I don’t know,” said Ben. “They were leaving when I saw them, so I just hid behind a tree.”
“And then you found the shells?” asked the sheriff.
“Well, yeah, I mean Stephen and Jack actually found them,” replied Ben.
“And you told them about the older boys?”
“Yeah, I mentioned it,” said Ben.
“And none of you thought to mention this last time I was here?”
“We didn’t want to get into any more trouble, sir,” said Stephen. “We didn’t really see anything important.”
Jack’s dad broke in — “It’s not up to you to decide what’s important. You three need to keep that in mind. What you were in trouble for was hiding something that would have been important for you parents to know.”
“I know dad,” said Jack, “I’m really sorry. We were really scared.”
“Okay,” said the sheriff, standing up. “I’ve got what I need. I suggest you boys be careful.”
Jack’s dad showed the sheriff out and they discussed the situation on the porch for a few minutes.
“Why did you do that?” Jack whispered to Ben.
“Shhh, he’s coming back,” said Ben.
Jack’s dad came back into the living room and sat down in his big chair.
“Anything else I should know?” asked Jack’s dad.
“I’m trying very hard to not overreact here, boys,” he continued. “You just have to understand that this is a difficult time for a parent. You’re trying to be independent and make your own way, but there are a lot of things in the world that can hurt you, and you’re not equipped to recognize them all yet. Most kids your age are having a very structured summer of activities, but you’ve asked to entertain yourselves and all your parents agreed that it was okay.”
“Thank you, Dad,” said Jack.
“Yeah, thanks Mr. Randolph,” said Stephen.
“Okay,” he continued, “but the burden on us is to somehow make sure you’re safe, without imposing so many rules that you’re hamstrung in what you can do.”
Jack’s dad took a deep breath. “I think you’ve done okay so far this summer, and learned that you need to maintain boundaries. So, you’re not in any trouble over this, but remember — we’re here to help you. No secrets.”
“Okay — thanks,” said Jack.
“Stephen,” Jack’s dad said, “call your mom.”
“Okay,” said Stephen.
Jack and Ben waited in Jack’s room for Stephen to get off the phone. He walked in with a big smile and closed the door behind him.
“End of the month!” said Stephen.
“Nice!” said Jack.
“What about swimming class?” asked Ben.
“She moved it,” he said. “There’s a new class that starts on August first, so I’m going to take that.”
“So are we going to confirm your theories about the letter today?” Ben asked Jack.
“I guess,” Jack said. “My dad said we weren’t going to be punished or anything. You almost ruined it with that confession — what was that about?”
“I had to do something,” said Ben. “I was totally blowing it ‘cuz I was so nervous. I knew the sheriff knew I knew something.”
“All in all, it was a pretty good lie,” said Stephen.
“What?” exclaimed Jack. “It was totally lame.”
“No, seriously,” started Stephen, “it completely explained why we were clearly covering something up. I think it worked great. Did you see the way the sheriff just dismissed everything after that?”
Jack thought about it. “I guess. You think he really bought it?”
“Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “Good job, Ben.”
“Do you think my dad is right — we should be telling him everything?” asked Jack.
“That’s retarded,” said Stephen. “He’d lose his mind!”
“Yeah,” continued Jack, “but what if he’s right? What if that place is really dangerous and we’re being stupid?”
“We’re not going to do anything dangerous,” said Ben. “We’ve already talked about that. We’ll be completely careful.”
“Yeah,” said Stephen.
“Okay,” Jack acquiesced.
“Let’s get going,” said Ben.
“Got it,” said Stephen. He had propped a piece of two-by-four in the hatch in the side of the building. The bottom of the board rested on the sill and the top was wedged against the sliding concrete door they suspected blocked the hatch when it was closed. Ben was already waiting down in the room they now called the “drawing room,” named for the anatomical drawing on the far wall.
Jack held the step-ladder for Stephen as he swung over the ledge and stared down rope-ladder to bottom of the passage. Next, Jack headed up the ladder.
“Okay,” said Jack, “lights on. I’m turning off the switch.”
When they first arrived and opened the hatch they had found the switch on. After some debate they believed that they had accidentally left it on. It had made them quite nervous to think they were not the only ones using this doorway, but after reassuring each other, they believed they had done it themselves.
Jack joined his friends in the “drawing room” as they looked around with their flashlights.
“Does the letter say anything about this room?” asked Ben.
Jack dug around in his backpack and produced the letter. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to start at the bottom. This room is definitely at the bottom. Is there a heart on that drawing?” Jack pointed at the drawing on the wall with his light. “If there is, it may be his deepest vulnerability.”
Stephen was closest to the drawing on the wall. He walked over and inspected the drawing. From top to bottom, he held his light close to the wall and examined the artwork. “There’s a hole in his heart,” he said.
“What?” asked Ben as he joined Stephen at the drawing. “Incredible.”
“Here — look,” said Stephen.
When Jack caught up with his friends the were looking at a quarter-inch hole in the wall. Just below the surface of the painted drywall, they could see a glass lens filled the hole.
“Looks like a peep-hole,” said Stephen. “Like in an apartment door.”
Stephen pressed his face to the wall and looked into the drawing of a heart.
“No way,” he exhaled.
“What? Let someone else see.” Ben pushed Stephen aside and looked into the hole.
“There’s a room in there, with three doors at the end,” Stephen told Jack. “The one on the right has light behind it.”
“How can you tell — about the light?” Jack asked.
“You can see it coming out from underneath,” Ben answered. “It’s the only light, but you can see the whole room.”
Ben backed up and let Jack have a look. The room through the peephole appeared narrow, with just enough space on the far wall for the three doors. Jack saw black walls and ceiling, and a floor covered in a grid of alternating black and white tiles.
When he pulled his eye away from the hole, Jack was confused — “I think it’s small — like a dollhouse or something.”
“No way — what makes you think that?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “It just does. Hey — is that his ‘deepest vulnerability?’”
“Oh yeah — his heart,” Ben answered. “That makes sense, but what does it tell us.”
“That’s the line about the ‘Truth,’ right?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “So, do you think the truth is the light?”
“Is that one of the good sentences, or the lies?” asked Stephen.
Jack pulled out the letter and reviewed his highlighting. “Yeah, that’s one of the good ones.”
“We haven’t proved that yet,” said Ben. “It’s just a theory.”
“Easy enough,” said Jack as he moved towards the ladder. “Stand back.”
“Shouldn’t you just not grab that rung?” said Ben.
“No, we have to prove that the letter is giving us clues,” Jack replied.
Stephen had gone back to looking through the hole in the drawing’s heart. “I think maybe it is a model,” he said.
“Okay — ready?” asked Jack. His head was even with the ceiling and he was about to grab the next rung.
“Sure, we’re ready — you’re the one who needs to be ready,” said Ben.
He moved with confidence until his hand was about an inch from the shocking rung. For a microsecond his hand touched and then he drew it back.
“Did it get you?” asked Ben. “Is it on?”
“I don’t think so,” said Jack. He brushed the rung twice more and then actually grabbed it for a split-second before letting it go. “Nope, I don’t think it’s on.”
“Cool — so what’s up there?” asked Stephen.
Jack pointed his flashlight to reveal that the rungs continued for another six feet or so. He pulled himself up, looking back at the hatch that had closed automatically the day before.
“Hey, this panel is back open — I didn’t even think of that,” said Jack.
“Oh yeah, that probably reset or something,” said Stephen.
“Where was it?” asked Ben.
“Right above the ceiling there — Jack’s probably clearing it now,” Stephen answered.
“Hope it doesn’t close now,” said Ben.
Moving fast, Jack descended back through the hole in the ceiling, jumping the last few feet. “Hey — I think I just figured out the next piece,” he had a broad smile.
“What, the letter?” asked Ben.
Unfolding the letter, Jack trained his flashlight on the writing. “Look here, it says ‘Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.’ right? Stephen, you said the white King’s Bishop only touches the white squares?”
“Yeah,” said Stephen.
“That room up there has a black and white floor, like a chess board,” said Jack.
“Like the model?” asked Ben.
“Huh?” Jack was surprised.
Ben pointed his light to the anatomical drawing of the body. “The model.”
“Yeah, yeah — like the floor on the model,” said Jack.
“I want to go see,” said Stephen.
“Only step on the white!” ordered Jack. Stephen was already halfway up the ladder.
Gingerly, Stephen climbed through the hole in the ceiling and when his feet disappeared, Jack climbed up after him. Alone in the drawing room, Ben watched Jack disappear. He was about to move towards the ladder when Jack’s face reappeared.
“Come on!” said Jack.
Ben emerged on the next floor to find Jack and Stephen with their feet spread and planted on white tiles. He followed suit and stepped off the ladder onto white, not letting his feet hit the black tiles. Each tile was twelve inches square, so it was easy for the boys to fit a foot on a single tile, but they had to spread their feet awkwardly to plant both feet. The tiles were laid out in an alternating pattern, like a chess board.
Stephen shone his light at the opposite end where they saw three doors. “This is the model,” he said.
“There’s no light,” said Ben.
“That makes sense,” said Jack. “He wanted us to know the correct door from the model. We were supposed to figure out that clue.”
“You really want that to be true, don’t you?” asked Ben.
“It is true,” replied Jack.
“Well I don’t think we should try either of the other doors, just to prove the point,” said Stephen. He began to walk towards the doors, only touching the white tiles.
Jack looked at Ben and then followed Stephen.
“We really ought to figure out a way to jam this panel, in case it decides to close again,” said Ben.
“I think it’s off because the switch is off,” Jack said as he stepped from tile to tile.
Bending down as much as he could, Ben examined the panel. It was metal and enclosed in a metal shell, bolted to the floor. Ben looked around, but didn’t see anything he could use to block the panel from closing, so he followed his friends over to the door.
“It opens in,” said Stephen. “Should I try it?” he asked.
“Go ahead,” said Jack.
With no hesitation, Stephen turned the knob. The door swung inward forcefully and pushed back on Stephen’s tense arm. He lost his balance and stumbled, placing a foot directly on one of the black tiles.
“Watch out!” said Jack.
The three froze and exhaled relief after a few seconds with no apparent repercussions from Stephen’s errant footfall.
“So much for…” Ben was cut off by a grinding sound behind him.
The boys spun around to see the panel sliding shut, blocking them from the ladder.
“Shit!” exclaimed Ben — he ran back over the white tiles to the ladder just as it was traversing the last six inches to the wall.
“I don’t think you need to worry about the white tiles now, Ben,” said Jack.
“I think we do,” said Ben. “Seriously, get back on white,” he pointed his flashlight at Stephen’s feet. When Stephen had retreated, Ben looked at his watch — “We were here almost fifteen minutes before we totally screwed that up.”
“Well I think we need to be worried about what’s past this door — it’s our only option now.”
“Just stand still for a second,” said Ben. “Jack, what else does the letter say?”
“Hold up,” Jack dug out the letter again. “Uh, well there’s some junk and then it eventually says ‘take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again.’”
“And that’s a true one?” asked Ben.
“C’mon, we should just be going through the door,” said Stephen. “There’s bound to be another way out somewhere.”
“Who knows how many more traps there are,” said Ben. “I’m not going anywhere until we figure out how to get this panel back open.”
“We should have brought a pry-bar or something,” said Jack. “We knew that panel was…”
Jack was cut off by the sound of the panel sliding again.
“It’s opening,” said Ben. “Jesus, I thought we were trapped in here.”
“How long was it shut?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know for sure — about a minute?” said Ben, checking his watch again. “Maybe we should get something to jam this door too.”
“Seriously?” said Stephen. “Can’t we just see what’s down here?”
“No,” said Jack, “Ben’s right — we need to make sure we have a clear path out.”
“Okay,” Stephen gave in. “But I think that the door probably resets by itself anyway.” He started to make his way back across the tiles.
From white to white, Jack carefully crossed the tiles. When they had joined at the ladder, Ben started to make his way down through the hole.
“Hey — can you hold this for a second?” Jack asked Stephen — he held out his flashlight. Stephen took the light and pointed it at Jack’s hands where he was neatly folding the letter to put it back in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said.
Jack reached back for his flashlight. Stephen handed it over and Jack botched the transfer. The light fell to the floor, landing hard on one of the black squares.
“Shit!” yelled Jack. “Ben get through.”
“I’m through!” Ben called up from below.
“Check your watch!” said Stephen as the panel began to shut again.
Jack reached down and tried to halt the medium pace of the panel, but its speed was unchanged by his effort. He withdrew his hand and the panel finished its travel.
Stephen yelled at the panel — “Tell us when a minute is up.”
A muffled reply came from below: “Okay.”
They waited in silence. Stephen pointed his light over towards the open door on the far wall. Joining with his light, Jack looked at the door as well. The hallway beyond the door seemed to swallow their lights — the floor, ceiling, and walls were all flat black.
Their eyes were glued to the black rectangle and they both flinched when Ben’s voice floated up from below — “One minute!”
“Hmmm,” said Stephen. A second later the panel began to open again.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Jack.
Jack’s dad cooked on the grill. The boys gorged — after returning from the hotel they had worked up an appetite planning and assembling all the tools and materials they thought they would need. For the first time, they had left the stepladder in the woods near the hotel. Jack decided that it was risky to constantly move it in and out of the garage. But, for now, all the preparation was forgotten and the boys focused on dinner.
“This is great, mom,” said Jack.
“Tell your dad, he did the cooking,” she replied.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“What did you do today?” his dad asked. “You certainly have an appetite.”
“Nothing much,” Jack responded. “We played outside, and then messed around up in my room.”
“Did you talk to your mom?” Jack’s mom asked Stephen.
“Yes,” he began, “she said I should ask if it’s okay that I stay ‘til the end of the month.”
“Oh, of course, that’s fine,” Jack’s mom replied.
“And Ben, are you moving in for good?” she asked.
“If that’s okay,” smiled Ben.
“Hey Dad,” said Jack, “I heard a riddle today.”
“Difficulty?” his dad asked.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I thought easy, but I don’t know the answer. It’s definitely not a brain-buster.” Jack and his dad had always enjoyed solving puzzles and riddles together. Jack was good at the math and logic problems, and his dad excelled at the language and historic references. When they wanted a good challenge, they would turn to Jack’s “Book of Brain-Busters.”
“What would you consider the key line of the riddle?” his dad asked him.
“It was ‘Level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again,’ I think,” recited Jack.
“How old?”
“Um, not sure. Maybe fifteen or twenty years.” Jack didn’t want to reveal too much information.
“Well, patience suggests a time-reference, and it’s modern, so I would suspect that the hands are on clock. Could be minute-hand against the hour, or second-hand against either.” his dad replied.
“Oh, so it could mean have patience for a minute?” asked Stephen, joining the conversation.
“Or an hour,” said Jack.
“A bit more than an hour, actually,” corrected his dad. “If a minute hand travels around, it doesn’t catch the hour hand for sixty-five minutes.”
“Oh, right,” said Jack.
Stephen looked up at the clock on the wall and studied it until he figured out the extra five minutes.
“Not very hard for someone my age,” said Jack’s dad. “But you boys have probably never had a watch with hands.”
“Well, no, but we had to learn to tell time anyway,” protested Jack.
“No offense intended, sir,” Jack’s dad joked.
“It’s closed again,” announced Stephen. He was the first up the ladder and into the “Bishop’s room.” The boys had carefully agreed on names for all the locations they had seen during their discussions the night before. Now it was Sunday morning and they each carried a backpack with lunch and water.
“What, the door on the right?” asked Ben — he was heading up the ladder.
“Yeah, it must be spring-loaded, or motorized or something,” Stephen conjectured.
Picking his way, Ben stepped off the ladder onto the harlequin floor. Jack was right behind.
“It’s not surprising,” said Jack. “Everything else here resets.”
“Kinda like us,” said Ben. “We just do the same thing every day.”
“Wait a second,” said Jack, inflamed, “you convinced me that we had to keep going on this.”
“Me?” asked Ben. “I went to talk to you about it and you had already decided to keep going because you liked figuring out the clues in that letter.”
Ben turned away from his friends and started studying the wall with his light. A crack extended from the ceiling to about halfway down the wall; it was covered in black paint. By leaning over Ben was able to reach the crack and he picked away some of the paint, leaving a small white spot of gypsum exposed.
“What are you saying?” asked Jack. “You don’t even want to be here?”
“It’s not…” began Ben. “It’s not how I pictured spending my summer is all.”
“Don’t you even want to see what’s down that hall?” asked Stephen. He pointed his light at the door on the right at the end of the room.
“I don’t know,” Ben answered. “I guess so.”
“Look,” said Jack, “we have all day. Let’s just keep going a little while, have lunch, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”
“This place is creepy though,” said Ben. “How can you want to have lunch in here? I keep expecting to run across rats or dead bodies.”
“It’s just dark,” said Stephen. “We haven’t even seen anything unusual.”
“You don’t think that painting down below is unusual?” asked Ben. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some murderer painted that.”
“The guy’s gone though,” protested Jack. “The place is empty.”
“How do we really know that?” asked Ben.
Stephen and Jack looked at each other. For a moment they ignored Ben. They sized each other up to see if Ben’s idea had any resonance. Jack was the first to speak — “We’ll just see what’s past the door.”
Defeated, Ben agreed by moving across the tiles towards the door. Stephen led the way.
“Careful this time,” said Ben.
The door stood closed at the edge of Stephen’s reach. Leaning forward, he gingerly turned the handle and let the door force itself open. Jack circled to the left to get another angle on the doorway. When it banged open, Stephen moved towards the door. Once again, they saw a long, dark hallway. Its walls were painted the same black as the Bishop’s room. The floor was solid black.
Stephen stepped on each white tile on his way to the threshold. “Guess it doesn’t matter where I step,” he said as he passed a foot through the doorway and willed his body to follow. He brought his other foot across, turned around to face Jack and Ben, and then pointed his flashlight up. “I think we caught a break.”
“What is it?” asked Jack.
Stephen was facing him and looking up above the door-jam from the hallway side. “I don’t know,” said Stephen. “Something bolted to the wall up there. Looks like it could be bad news for people coming through the door, but it didn’t do anything to me.”
“Oh wait.” Stephen traced his flashlight down the right-hand side of the door. “There’s a wire that looks like it goes to the floor here. You guys should come through just like I did.”
Jack crept up to the door and waited for Stephen to get out of his way. He mimicked Stephen’s one-leg-at-a-time style of crossing into the hall without incident.
“Maybe one of us should stay behind,” said Ben. When he saw that Jack and Stephen were about to protest, he quickly rescinded — “Just kidding.” Ben stepped through and joined his friends.
“Okay,” said Stephen, getting ready to head down the hall, “I’ll look down. You guys look left and right.” He pointed at Jack to look left and Ben to look right.
“What about up?” said Jack.
“Both of you look up,” Stephen responded.
It didn’t take long for Stephen to sound the alarm. About ten feet down the hallway, he put up his arms to physically stop Jack and Ben from proceeding. “Check it out.” Stephen trained his flashlight on the floor a couple of feet ahead of himself.
Barely visible in Stephen’s beam of light, a thin wire was stretched across the hall. Ben got down on his knees and got close to the wire. He found impossibly small holes in the walls between which the wire was strung.
“I bet it sets off something awful,” said Stephen. “What does the letter say about it?”
Jack didn’t have to consult the paper to quote the letter. “Nothing — it ends with a thing about a hasty man and our job.”
“Okay,” said Stephen. “Keep going then?”
“We should be looking for another letter,” said Ben, looking up and around. “We’re going to need more clues.”
“I think we know what to look for,” said Stephen. “He didn’t get us with this.” Stephen stepped over the wire and continued down the hall.
A few more feet later they found a turn in the hallway.
When they came to the end of the hall, and could see around the bend, they were greeted with a dead-end. After it turned, the hall went only a few feet.
“Which side of the building is this?” asked Jack. He moved his light all around, the ceiling, floor, and walls were all black and offered no clues. The wall in front looked the same as the ones on either side.
“Well, we came in the back, went to ground floor, the ladder was on the right and then we doubled back.” Stephen thought through the steps that had gotten them to their current location. “I think we must be on the north end of the hotel.”
“So, looking at the hotel from the back, this would be the left side?” asked Jack.
“Yeah, the corner of the building should be there.” Stephen pointed to the left end of the corridor.
“No way,” said Ben. “We took the right-hand door, and plus, the chute we came down when we first entered. There's got to be at least ten feet to the corner; assuming we've got far enough to make it to the corner.”
“Yeah,” admitted Stephen, “you're right, I guess.”
“So that means that there's space this direction.” Jack looked at the wall opposite the dead-end.
“Right,” said Ben, “you probably would get to it through one of the other doors that we didn't try from the Bishop's room.”
“I thought we all said that those doors were no good?” asked Stephen.
“If you believe that model,” said Ben. “But maybe there's just a dead-end that way too.”
“Hey — turn off your lights for a second,” said Jack.
“What for?” asked Ben.
“Just do it,” answered Jack.
Stephen and Jack turned off their lights and waited for Ben to follow suit.
“You guys have really gone nuts,” said Ben. He turned his light off. “What did you expect to see? Dancing dingle berries?”
“Just wait,” said Jack.
They waited in silence and dark. At first they heard nothing, then Ben's breathing became noticeable.
“This is dumb,” said Ben. He started to fumble with his light.
“Just hold on a little bit,” said Jack.
A distant noise made Stephen gasp. Goose bumps jumped up on Ben's neck and arms. Jack tensed with excitement.
“Here it comes,” said Jack.
At last Ben was able to identify the noise they were hearing. It was the door at the end of the hall closing under the power of an electric motor. The buzzing and churning reminded him of a garage door opener, but much quieter. It finally clicked home and stopped.
“Great, so now we have to figure out how to get that back open,” said Ben.
“Oh, I get it, where's the light?” asked Stephen.
“Right,” said Jack. “The model showed a light coming from under the door, so maybe there's supposed to be light back here.”
As if on cue, a crack of light appeared in front of Jack. He was facing the left side of the hall they had initially traversed. The crack expanded as a portion of the wall drew back to expose a hidden way. Momentarily blinded, the boys could see nothing but bright shapes ahead. In the lead, Jack raised his arm to shield his eyes.
“Wow,” said Stephen, awed. “What's in there?”
“I can't see yet,” said Jack.
When his eyes had adjusted more, Jack saw an extremely well-lit room, painted white. Poking his head in, he could see that the room had no windows and stretched off to his left. The walls and ceiling had no adornment. The floor was the same nondescript tile, but in this room it was all white. It was blinding — the bright lights reflected off all the white surfaces.
“Look up,” said Ben.
Jack — still leaning his head through the secret doorway — twisted his neck to look above the opening in the wall. He saw nothing but more white surfaces.
“So, did that open because we turned off our lights?” asked Ben.
“I think so,” said Jack. “I think that you have to be in the dark before it lights up.”
“How did you ever guess that?” asked Ben.
“It makes sense, if you think about it,” said Stephen. “The model showed us there was supposed to be light coming from under the door. But the door was open and we had lights.”
“That actually makes no sense at all,” said Ben.
“Do you think it's safe to go in?” asked Jack. He braced himself against the wall and leaned farther. “It goes on for quite a bit that way.” Jack pointed with his chin.
“Look for wires,” said Stephen.
Jack crouched and put the side of his face near the floor. “I don't see anything.”
“Could be pressure sensitive,” said Ben. “Like the Bishop's room.”
“I'll try just one foot,” said Jack. He pushed back. When he had recovered his balance he gingerly advanced one foot. Jack touched a toe to the floor, ready to pull it back at the sign of any trouble. Nothing happened, so he put more weight on the foot.
“I'll go in,” said Stephen.
“It's my turn,” said Ben. He was resigned, not excited.
Jack stood aside and let Ben pass. He poked his head in, looked side-to-side and then Ben entered the room. “I call this the White Room.”
“Very original,” said Jack.
“I guess this is the Black Hall then?” asked Stephen.
“No,” began Jack, “we should call it the Tripwire Hallway, so we don't forget.”
“Good point,” said Stephen. “Too bad we can't mark it with something. Later, I guess.”
“Are you guys coming?” asked Ben. He had moved into the center of the White Room. Ben was still training his flashlight in the direction he was walking.
Jack and Stephen entered behind him.
“No windows, no outlets, no switches,” said Ben. “Just these lights.” He pointed to the ceiling — it was a drop-ceiling but instead of acoustic tiles, the entire ceiling was composed of the diffuse plastic panels covering fluorescent lights. “I wonder if these lights were on before the door opened.”
“What's that buzzing?” asked Jack.
“Probably just from the lights,” said Stephen.
“I don’t think so,” said Ben. “I think it’s coming from down here.” Ben was walking to the far end of the room and pointing with his unnecessary flashlight.
When Jack and Stephen reached Ben he was hunched over with his ear near the wall at about stomach height. “There’s a thing here,” said Ben, touching one finger to the wall. Jack looked closer and saw a rectangle cut into the drywall. While Jack and Stephen looked on, Ben poked at a corner of the rectangle and the piece of drywall came loose. Once a corner was protruding, Ben was able to pull it away. The resulting hole was nearly ten inches tall and five inches wide.
Inside the hole, was a life-size diagram of a handprint. “Put your hand on it,” said Stephen. “I bet it opens something.”
“No, don’t,” said Jack.
“Yeah, not about to,” said Ben. “Looks like it grabs your hand. These plexiglass parts probably close together and clamp around your wrist.”
“I think you’re right,” said Jack. “Maybe we can press it with something else.”
Ben still had the flashlight in his hand, so he centered it on the palm-print and pressed it firmly.
“Nothing,” said Ben.
“You probably have to touch the whole thing,” said Jack.
“Or maybe it only reacts to skin,” offered Stephen. “My dad used to have a stereo like that.”
“Really,” said Ben. It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
“Seriously,” said Stephen. He made his hand narrow, squeezing together his fingers, and pushed against the center of the palm-print. The diagram was recessed behind the plexiglass a couple of inches, and when his fingers touched the switch a loud buzzer sounded. Instantly, the two halves of plexiglass snapped together. They encircled his fingers, but didn’t trap his stretched hand.
“See?” Stephen said.
Nobody answered as they listened to yet another distant, rumbling sound.
“That’s coming from the hall,” said Jack. He started off in that direction and Ben and Stephen followed him. When Stephen’s hand released the switch the sound stopped and the plexiglass reset.
“I think you have to keep holding it,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Stephen, “but you have to tell me what you find.”
Jack and Ben went to the doorway through which they had entered the white room and Stephen manned the palm-panel.
“Ready?” asked Stephen.
“Go,” said Ben.
Stephen pressed the panel again and this time his hand wasn’t exactly centered. “Ow!” he exclaimed as the collapsing plastic pinched his hand.
“You okay?” asked Ben.
“Yeah,” said Stephen.
“Hey,” said Jack, “it’s another ladder.” He and Ben were looking through the doorway to where they had found the dead-end in the tripwire hall. The rumbling sound was a ladder descending through a disguised hole in the ceiling.
“Who would go to all this trouble?” asked Ben. “What is this place?”
Jack ignored his questions. “Try letting go,” he said to Stephen when the ladder had stopped descending.
“Okay,” said Stephen. He removed his hand from the panel and the plexiglass withdrew.
“Huh,” said Jack. “The ladder stayed here.”
Stephen joined Jack and Ben. “So why the hand trap?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I was just wondering that.”
“Maybe he didn’t finish something, or he was just sloppy,” said Ben.
“There’s something written,” said Jack. He turned on his light and shone it into the dark hallway, but none of the boys seemed eager to cross from the well-lit white room, back into the tripwire hall. “Go look,” he said to Ben.
“You go look,” replied Ben.
“Fine,” said Jack. He walked the few feet across the hall to the dead-end they had found earlier and peered at a middle rung of the black ladder. He crossed back to the white room before announcing his find: “It says ‘Level 2.’”
“This is like a video game,” said Stephen. “We’ve finished level one and now we’re going on to the next level. But isn’t there usually a ‘boss’ at the end of a level?”
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.
“You don’t play the shooter games,” explained Ben. “When you play a shooter, there’s always a big, bad creature you have to defeat at the end of each level. Like that Mario game — you played that one.”
“So we should be looking for a boss?” asked Jack.
“Could just be a really hard thing to get past,” replied Stephen. “Who knows, maybe there’s not one — we’re not exactly playing a video game here.”
“Better safe than sorry,” said Ben. He shone his light up through the hole in the ceiling. “How come we didn’t see this hole earlier?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I wonder how long it stays open, too.”
“Maybe the boss thing was that hand-trap back there,” said Stephen.
“Seems kinda easy for that,” said Ben.
“Yeah, but maybe we just got lucky — figuring that out.”
“Well, even if it had trapped your hand, couldn’t you just pull back enough to break contact?” asked Jack. “I mean the trap is only on when you touch the thing, right?”
“Another solid point,” said Ben. “And yet another thing that doesn’t add up.”
“Settle down, son,” Stephen said to Ben. “Just because we haven’t figured it out, doesn’t mean it’s not logical.”
“Why are you so convinced this place has to make sense?” said Ben. “I’m serious — I’m realizing what a really terrible idea this whole thing is.”
“I’m pretty sure this whole thing was your idea,” said Jack. “And what terrible things have happened?”
“All right, fine,” said Ben. “You need something horrible to happen? Let’s keep going then.”
“Roger that. Too much talking, anyway,” said Jack as he approached the ladder.
They each took a turn inspecting the ladder from all angles and shining their lights up through the new hole in the ceiling. Producing the letter once again, Jack compared the handwriting to that on the Level 2 sign. “I think it’s the same,” he pronounced.
Jack put the letter away, and then started up. He reached for each new rung cautiously — ready for a surprise each time. When he got within reach of the ceiling, Jack paused and pulled his flashlight from his pocket. He slowly extended it past where the ceiling started and waved it around.
“I think it’s okay,” said Jack. He tucked the light back in his pocket and reached for the next rung. Remembering the first ladder, he lightly touched the rung before committing to grabbing it. No shock was forthcoming, so he gripped the rung and pulled himself up. The rung shifted in his hand and dropped a quarter inch when he pulled. Jack released the rung and pushed away from the ladder to drop to the floor.
Before he could get away from the ladder a cascade of liquid rained down on Jack from above. Stephen and Ben were confused by all the sudden movement and stepped back. Unable to avoid the liquid, Jack was soaked. Ben’s light was trained on his face, and Stephen’s light showed his hands. Jack’s hands, face, and shirt were all bright, angry red.
“What happened?” asked Stephen.
“Gross. What is it? Blood?” asked Ben.
“Nope — I don’t think so,” said Jack. He sniffed his hand. “I think it’s just dye.” Jack was covered from head to toe. “The rung triggered it. I’m sure of it.”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen. “Does it come off?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Stephen.
Jack wiped dye away from his brow and tried to clear it from his eyes. He held his arms out, away from his body and looked at his clothes. The dye had soaked in and covered almost every square inch of his shirt and pants.
“Maybe that’s the boss trap?” said Ben, smiling.
“Just lead the way,” said Jack.
They retreated down the trip-wire hallway and gingerly stepped through the Bishop’s room. Jack left faint red footprints on the tile. Down in the drawing room, Jack and Ben headed for their rope ladder, but Stephen studied the artwork.
“C’mon, man,” said Ben.
Jack was the first back in daylight. Ben and Stephen followed soon after. Accustomed to the routine, they quickly stowed the rope-ladder, reset the hatch, and hid the stepladder.
“How’s it look?” Jack held up his dyed shirt.
“Better,” said Ben.
Jack was washing his clothes in the creek. He stood ankle-deep in the cold water, wearing only his underwear. Stephen was wringing out Jack’s socks.
“We should hide clothes over there,” said Jack. “In case something like this happens again.”
Ben was sitting on a rock, eating a sandwich from his backpack. They didn’t have to ask him his opinion of this plan — it was clear from his silence and his body-language that he disapproved of all their recent plans.
“You should wash your hair,” said Stephen.