Chapter 9 Benny
Nine
Benny
Evelyn Terry’s library was one of Benny’s favorite rooms in the house. It was warm and cozy and filled with walls of books.
The rain had stopped again, and for the first time since Benny and her mom had arrived, sun streamed through the windows above the bookshelves and over a window seat that looked out on a garden.
Outside, sun and clouds were still warring, thick black clouds in the distance threatening more rain.
Better weather wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Kimble said they had about a fortnight till the island disappeared.
Two weeks. Was he right? A mystical island reappearing and disappearing wasn’t an exact science.
What if when they returned to the cave, the island was gone?
“This room feels like Sparrow,” Gil gushed, his hands running across the book spines on the shelves that covered the four walls. “I can picture her here reading.”
“This room is nice unless you have to spend hours in it searching for a book when you just did that a few days ago.” Zara flashed Benny a crooked smile.
“What are the chances that there is another book is in this floorboard where we found the first one?” Benny headed to the window seat first and removed a front panel they’d learned held a secret compartment.
That’s where Evelyn had hidden Robinson Crusoe and Treasure Island.
Benny stuck her arm inside the dusty space.
“Nope! There’s nothing else in here, which means we’ve got to search the stacks again. ”
Zara groaned. “Ryan may have turned heel, but at least there are still three of us to search.”
“Heel?” Benny quirked an eyebrow.
“What?” Zara lifted a gold book off the shelf nearest her. “My dad and I watch a lot of wrestling. Makes we wish I knew some moves to pull on Ryan.”
The air between them was filled with tiny particles of dust brought to light by the sun.
It grew thick and heavy at the mention of Ryan.
Benny hadn’t known him long, but she was still confused about what had happened.
She considered herself a good reader of people, and Ryan hadn’t seemed calculated.
“What book are you in need of?” Gil asked formally.
“We need a book about a bug or a dragonfly. Let me try searching for one first.” Benny pulled out her phone and typed in gold dragonfly books. That produced no results. Then she tried dragonfly books, and that gave her a list of insect encyclopedias. “I’m not sure any of these are right.”
Gil stood over her shoulder staring at her phone in awe. “It’s like a small genie lives inside that box giving you all the answers.”
“Yes, and that genie is called Google,” said Zara. “Read the riddle again.”
Benny pulled out the paper. “‘There is a story you must find to reveal what I have in mind. This tale, so very apro poe, sheds light on what you soon shall know—the reason I committed my crime, and why we’ve had to bide our time till you could save what once was mine.’”
“Maybe Sparrow isn’t talking about a dragonfly,” Gil suggested. “Maybe the dragonfly was just a tool to lead you to the plaque, and the book is about her ‘crime’?” He scratched his chin. “Not that I could ever imagine Sparrow doing something wrong.”
“She thought stealing the treasure was wrong,” Benny said gently, “but she did it anyway to save all of you from the Cough.”
Gil’s eyes became watery. “She was too hard on herself,” he said, turning back to a book.
Benny let him have a moment. They were missing something. Her eyes scanned the riddle again and stopped on apro poe. She pointed it out to Zara. “Wait a minute. This isn’t how you spell apropos, is it?”
Zara pursed her lips and stared at Evelyn’s neat scroll. “It looks weird. Like she’s writing apropos poe. Saying poe twice. Did she just happen to misspell it?”
Benny’s fingers tingled. “Nothing Evelyn has done so far has been an accident. Poe… Do you think she meant Edgar Allan Poe?” They each grabbed their phones again and started searching.
The Wi-Fi was slow following the storm, and Benny felt like it took forever before she got to a page about Poe.
She scanned the listings for his different story titles.
“The time period is correct,” said Zara. “He was a writer in the mid eighteen hundreds.”
When Benny spotted the word bug among Poe’s story titles, she squeezed Zara’s arm. “Look! The clue is a bug, not a dragonfly! It has to be. Poe has a short story called ‘The Gold-Bug’ that was originally published in a newspaper.” This is it. Benny was sure of it.
Zara gripped Benny’s other arm with her free hand. “You ready for this? ‘The Gold-Bug’ is about buried treasure.”
“It sounds like a story about us!” Gil marveled.
Benny felt a thrumming in her chest. Evelyn, you clever girl.
“There’s more,” Zara said, excitement in her voice. “Poe was known for popularizing cryptography, which is a type of secret writing, and he used it in the short story.”
“If only we had a book with this story so we could read it,” Gil mused.
Benny felt like her whole body was fired up with excitement.
“We don’t need one. Hang on!” Benny pulled up the short story on her phone and read it fast. “So the main character looking for treasure realizes a scrap of parchment has invisible ink on it.” Her heartbeat sped up.
“And when the character held it over heat, the words revealed themselves.” She pulled out the blank pages Evelyn had given them and held them up.
“Maybe we don’t actually need to find a book.
We already have all we need. We just need a match. ”
“I can help with that.” Wally came into the room at that very moment as if he’d been listening and took a candle off a shelf. He pulled matches out of his pocket and lit the candle. “Be careful not to hold the pages too close to the flame, or we’ll have a fire.”
Getting as close as she could, Benny held one of the pages over the flame. The four of them watched as handwritten words in a bright-blue ink began to appear one by one.
“That’s Sparrow’s handwriting.” Gil’s hands were starting to tremble.
“Hold your hand steady!” said Zara holding her phone over the page as it lit up with words. “I’ll take pictures of each page so we can read it back later.”
“Never would have thought of that,” Benny said, her heart soaring now.
They’d done it. Cracked Evelyn’s first new clue.
Which meant there were most likely two to go.
At least that’s how it worked for the first game.
Wait till she told Kimble. And Aggy. She was one step closer to finding the missing treasure and banishing Tesouro Eterno forever on that island so it wouldn’t be tampered with again.
One step closer to saving Evelyn’s friends and Kimble.
Finally, Benny reached the last blank page. It was a second riddle. With the handwriting visible, she began to read.
For Everly Benedict,
A place the piping plovers know,
not far from where beach roses grow
is dedicated to remembering “thee”—
Those who have been “lost at sea.”
While I am scorned and not allowed
to be among that mourning crowd,
I visit in stealth, to think and reflect.
This rock is where I genuflect.
This monument is where it calls to me—
the island others cannot see.
Benny eyed certain words she sensed meant something important: Monument. Rock. Beach roses. “What are piping plovers?”
“Tiny birds,” Gil said immediately. “They fly over the coast.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “I will never repeat this in public, but those little buggers have claimed half the beaches out here in the spring for breeding. If you get too close, they dive-bomb your head.”
“Very true.” Gil looked nervous. “We always tried to avoid them.”
“Fun.” Benny played with the hair tie on her wrist. Monument. Rock. Beach roses. Piping plovers. Where was Evelyn leading them?
“We don’t have any piping plovers on the property,” Wally said, “but the birds are endangered, so environmental groups have put up fencing to protect their breeding areas, so that no one can disturb them. That might help you narrow down areas.”
“It sounds like there’s numerous spots,” Benny said, biting her lip. “And I’m sure every beach has beach roses.”
“Since the power is restored, why don’t I bake something to boost your energy for sleuthing?” Wally winked. “You’ll need your sustenance to figure out this next clue.”
“Thanks, Wally!” Benny looked at Zara and Gil. “We’re going to need more than cookies. The invisible ink. The fact that Evelyn didn’t explain more in her last letter. Evelyn’s game is a lot harder this time.”
“Please. You’re a natural at this riddle-puzzle stuff,” Zara told her. “And Gil and I are here to help you crack this. Even without Ryan, we’re still a team.”
A team. Benny had tried to hold herself back from this friendship with Zara, but there was no denying it anymore.
She and Zara were becoming good friends.
Yes, Zara wanted to save Aggy, since they were related, like Gil wanted to save himself and his friends.
Benny wanted to win the game and save them.
They all had something to lose or gain here.
“Alright. We need to think of monuments.”
“I don’t know of any,” Gil said. “There were none in Greenport in my day.”
“What about the Greenport Fisherman Monument?” Zara pulled up something on her phone and showed it to Benny.
It was an article from the Greenport Herald.
“The Rudds erected this in 1830 for Axel and others lost at sea. Evelyn wasn’t allowed to attend the ceremony since the monument is on Rudd property. ”
“The monument is at their house?” Benny was surprised to hear this.
“Well, it was Elias Rudd’s house, but after the monument was built, they left it vacant and spent years in Europe. A while back Vivian turned the property into the North Shore Country Club, which, of course, the Rudds also own,” Zara looked at her. “We can’t get in without a membership.”
“The Rudds?” Gil stood, his expression darkening. “You can’t trust that family with anything. Axel tried to steal the treasure for himself!”
“We know,” Benny said and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Evelyn was probably trying to be smart: Where would be the last place the Rudds or anyone else would find one of her clues? Right under the Rudds’ noses.”
“You may be right. Sparrow was so clever,” Gil said.
“We need to get to that monument and look around.” Benny gathered the pages and put them in her bag. “Do you know a member who could get us in? Maybe we lie and say we’re meeting him? It’s not like anyone knows we’re fighting with him because he tried to trap us in a room filling with water.”
“Only Ryan.” Zara read from her phone. “According to their website, if you want to visit the monument, the country club has to let you in, but you have to register your name as a guest.” She frowned. “They’ll know our names.”
Benny thought for a moment. “They’ll know our names either way.” An idea came to her. “But if we say I’m a potential new member, maybe they’ll let us take a tour of the grounds.”
Zara smiled slyly. “Yes! You are an heir, after all.”
“By the time someone is alerted to us, we could be finished sleuthing,” Benny hoped.
A rumble of thunder made Benny pause. “Okay. Let’s read Evelyn’s pages and catch Gil up. After the rain, we’ll go to the monument.” She hesitated. “There’s still one page I don’t get—All it says is ‘Don’t trust her.’” She glanced at Gil, who was squirming slightly.
“I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t,” Gil said, blinking hard.
He knows something. She just had to find a way to make him trust her. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Greenport Herald
July 9, 1938
Cate Callahan sizzles in Summer Point
By Garrett Rudd
Who is that breathtaking redhead stealing hearts and making stars like Judy Garland green with envy?
It’s Long Island native Cate Callahan. Starring in the new screwball musical comedy Summer Point, Miss Callahan has made the film a smash hit.
No one is looking at Gene Kelly when they can watch Miss Callahan dance like a Rockette and sing like a songbird!
After a few supporting roles in Be My Darling and Double Trouble, the starlet got top billing in Roommates alongside Mickey Rooney and is now starring in Summer Point. Audiences are loving her on-screen.
Notoriously media shy, Miss Callahan only agreed to do this interview when she realized the reporter was a Long Islander too.
“Long Island is my island,” Miss Callahan tells me over a lunch of steamed salmon and green beans at Greenport hot spot Hooked.
“There is no place I’d rather be.” There were a few questions she wouldn’t answer—like her age.
(“Darling, men like a mystery!” she said with a throaty laugh.
This reporter’s guess is somewhere around the midtwenties.)
Single, and hailing from “somewhere across the pond,” Miss Callahan said she hates spending time in New York City!
“I go there to film my movies, but as soon as they call, ‘Cut,’ I’m on my way back to the island.
” Miss Callahan even turned down the chance to present at this year’s Oscars!
(“I don’t do planes, and who wants to take a train ride that long? I’d rather let the awards come to me.”)
She’s an enigma, dear readers! We can’t wait to see her in her next film, Seaside Inn, which she will film right here on Long Island’s East End with Mickey Rooney.