The Trouble with Children Or, Why They Are Necessary
The Sender and the Messages
The Men in the Maze
Codes and Histories
The Thing to Come
The Naming of the Crew
Nomansan Island
Traps and Nonsense
Beware the Gemini
Lessons Learned
People and Places to Be Avoided
Logical Conclusions and Miscalculations
Poison Apples, Poison Worms
A Surprising Suggestion
Tests and Invitations
Everything As It Should Be
Of Families Lost and Found
Tactical Cactupi
Caught in the Act
The Waiting Room
Punishments and Promotions
Half a Riddle
The Whisperer
Open Sesame
Practice Makes Perfect
Know Thine Enemy
A Chess Lesson
The Mouse in the Culvert
Sacrifices, Narrow Escapes, and Something Like a Plan
Bad News and Bad News
Sticky’s Discovery
The Great Kate Weather Machine
Stands and Falls
The Best Medicine
Escapes and Returns
For Every Exit, an Entrance
Acknowledgments
For Elliot
— T.L.S.
Pencils, Erasers, and Disqualification
In a city called Stonetown, near a port called Stonetown Harbor, a boy named Reynie Muldoon was preparing to take an important test. It was the second test of the day — the first had been in an office across town. After that one he was told to come here, to the Monk Building on Third Street, and to bring nothing but a single pencil and a single rubber eraser, and to arrive no later than one o’clock. If he happened to be late, or bring two pencils, or forget his eraser, or in any other way deviate from the instructions, he would not be allowed to take the test, and that would be that. Reynie, who very much wanted to take it, was careful to follow the instructions. Curiously enough, these were the only ones given. He was not told how to get to the Monk Building, for example, and had found it necessary to ask directions to the nearest bus stop, acquire a schedule from a dishonest bus driver who tried to trick him into paying for it, and walk several blocks to catch the Third Street bus. Not that any of this was difficult for Reynie Muldoon. Although he was only eleven years old, he was quite used to figuring things out for himself.
From somewhere across the city, a church bell struck the half hour. Twelve-thirty. He still had a while to wait. When he’d checked the doors of the Monk Building at noon, they were locked. So Reynie had bought a sandwich at a deli stand and sat down on this park bench to eat. A tall building in Stonetown’s busiest district must surely have many offices inside, he thought. Locked doors at noon seemed a little peculiar. But then, what hadn’t been peculiar about this whole affair?
To begin with, there was the advertisement. A few days before, Reynie had been reading the newspaper over breakfast at the Stonetown Orphanage, sharing sections with his tutor, Miss Perumal. (As Reynie had already completed all the textbooks on his own, even those for high school students, the orphanage director had assigned him a special tutor while the other children went to class. Miss Perumal didn’t quite know what to do with Reynie, either, but she was intelligent and kind, and in their time together they had grown fond of sharing the morning newspaper over breakfast and tea.)
The newspaper that morning had been filled with the usual headlines, several of them devoted to what was commonly called the Emergency: Things had gotten desperately out of control, the headlines reported; the school systems, the budget, the pollution, the crime, the weather . . . why, everything, in fact, was a complete mess, and citizens everywhere were clamoring for a major — no, a dramatic — improvement in government. “Things must change NOW!” was the slogan plastered on billboards all over the city (it was a very old slogan), and although Reynie rarely watched television, he knew the Emergency was the main subject of the news programs every day, as it had been for years. Naturally, when Reynie and Miss Perumal first met, they had discussed the Emergency at great length. Finding themselves quite in agreement about politics, however, they soon found such conversation boring and decided to drop the subject. In general, then, they talked about the other news stories, those that varied day to day, and afterward they amused themselves by reading the advertisements. Such was the case on that particular morning when Reynie’s life had so suddenly taken a turn.
“Do you care for more honey with your tea?” Miss Perumal had asked — speaking in Tamil, a language she was teaching him — but before Reynie could answer that of course he wanted more honey, the advertisement caught Miss Perumal’s eye, and she exclaimed, “Reynie!