by Jody Feldman
“True, but that’s important because . . . ?”
“If one fifty is their cutoff point—”
“Fifteen percent, a solid number.”
“But ten percent would be more solid.”
“Odds are, though,” said Elijah, “not everyone got the right answer.”
“You did, I assume.”
“Yeah.”
That wasn’t bragging. That just was. “So can—”
“The answer’s two fifty-four,” said Elijah.
“Yes!” Zane leaned back again, not able to hide his smile. At least there was that.
The buzzer sounded again, and a man ran to the center of the fifty-yard line. “Hello, everyone! I’m Randy Wright. Congratulations on making it this far!”
There were a few anxious cheers.
“That’s the good news. The bad? We will be saying good-bye to most of you soon.”
Zane sat straight up, the adrenaline pumping.
“If you’re one of the two hundred fourteen who didn’t finish, thanks for playing, but we ask that you exit the stadium now to receive your fifty-dollar Golly gift certificate. We will have another announcement soon. Everyone else, sit tight.”
“Only seven hundred eighty-six left,” said Zane.
Elijah shook his head. “One less. Don’t forget the guy who puked.”
That was still too many for Zane to relax. Elijah knocked on Zane’s shoulder. “You do know you’re through to the next round.”
“How can you be sure?”
“You got the right answer. You checked in only four minutes after I did. It all adds up.”
“But you don’t know how many they’re gonna take. You can’t be sure.”
“I can’t?” Elijah stared right into his eyes, almost challenging him. It was like Zane had met his match, if you could match apples and jet planes.
Zane watched the nonfinishers, including Grace, disappear into the tunnels.
“Have you seen Braden and Cherise?” asked Zane.
Elijah pointed. Their other teammates were together at the far end of their section. “You do realize,” said Elijah, “that your orchestrating everything is partially why we’re all here. Toward the end—well, you saw—it was sheer pandemonium on the field. I’m just a novice at strategy, and you’ve already taught me so much.”
Zane tried not to smile.
Randy Wright’s voice helped with that. It made him sit a little straighter. “I know you’re all on pins and needles. Did I get the right answer? Did I do it fast enough?”
“Relax!” said Elijah.
Zane smiled for that.
“Please look at your receipts,” said Randy Wright. “If your number is five hundred or higher, I’m sorry, but you weren’t quick enough. Please exit, receive your seventy-five-dollar Golly gift certificate, and reunite with your families.”
At least Zane wasn’t gone yet.
“Good,” said Elijah. “You’re not like a steel rod anymore. Just a wooden plank.”
“I assume that’s a positive?”
“It is. You’re still in this, but the negative is, you’re going to need your brain cells to function at a higher level. You should see the data on how stress affects productivity.”
“Then why am I better on the football field when I’m all amped up?”
“Different kind of stress. Physical stress. Your adrenal glands were designed to prepare you for physical fight or flight. And despite the wheel challenge, which wasn’t all that physical for you, this isn’t physical today.”
A few stragglers still headed into the tunnels.
Zane sighed.
“Stop it,” said Elijah, “or I’ll make you stop it.”
“How?”
“Hold up your receipt.” Elijah held his next to Zane’s. “See? Further proof you’re in.”
“What am I missing?” said Zane. He’d never known a guy who made him feel utterly moronic and totally confident at the same time.
“The numbers and letters under the bar code. Your string is the same as mine except where I have oh-oh-oh-three and six-fifteen, you have oh-one-five-one and seven-nine-eight, our check-in numbers and our wristband numbers.”
“I’m starting to believe you, Elijah.” He felt himself melting from a wooden plank into an overinflated football.
Elijah was about to point out something else, but Randy Wright came back. “There are nearly five hundred of you left. And now I can tell you, that with ties, one hundred eighteen of you have made it to the next round.”
“That’s not good,” Zane said.
Elijah gave him a look.
“Okay, okay.”
“Freeze!” said Randy Wright. “I see some of you getting up, but this still isn’t over. Now please get out your receipts, because they tell you if you’re staying for the next round or if you’re going home with a hundred-dollar Golly gift certificate.”
“I could live with that,” said Zane.
“Why, when you can get more?” Elijah pointed to the writing under the bar code. SECD0151798RND02.
“And that means?”
“S-E-C-D. Section D. Then our check-in numbers and our contestant identifier. And surely, you can figure out the rest.”
He could? Zane stared down Elijah, who just smiled. Fine. What was the rest? RND02. Was that 0 a zero? If it was and he put a space between the letters and numbers . . .
But he needed Randy Wright to say it. “And RND02?” Randy said. “You got it! Round two!”
Zane grabbed Elijah, then together, they dodged the people trying to leave, and whooped it up with the others who’d made it through.
“See? I told you!” said Elijah.
Zane pushed Elijah in the shoulder; nearly pushed him over. “Why didn’t you tell me when you first knew?”
“Didn’t want to ruin the moment for you.”
“Do you know everything?”
“Not yet,” Elijah said.
Zane shook his head. “Enough, though. I’m thinking I should pack it up and go home with the rest of them. Who can beat you?”
“You’d be surprised,” Elijah said. “I’m not Superman. Besides, I’m thinking you’re not the type who gives up easily.”
Zane pushed him in the shoulder again, but this time not too hard. “You do know everything.”
The sun had shifted to a gap in the banners overhead. They scooted to catch up with the shade, then watched the expressions of the people heading out. They ranged from “don’t care” to “end of the world.”
This part wouldn’t take long. Like Elijah said, they just needed to get rid of about thirty-eight people from each section, leaving, on average, eleven point eight of them in each.
“Who’s the point eight, do you suppose?” asked Elijah.
“In this section? I’d say it’s you, you scrawny thing.”
They both laughed.
If the JZs could see him hanging around with the likes of Elijah, they’d tease him endlessly. But underneath his awkwardness, Elijah was inexplicably cool. Really cool. And Zane didn’t quite know what to think of that.
Chapter 15
First came their shadows, then came Cherise and Braden, down the aisle. They took seats in front of Zane and Elijah.
“See?” said Cherise. “I told you they wouldn’t kick us out for moving.”
Braden looked up at them. “But Randy Wright told us to sit tight.”
“And yet we’re not kicked out,” said Cherise.
They sounded like they’d formed an unlikely relationship, too. And just as unusual-looking a pair. Him, all blond and freckled and round faced and reserved, and her, all dark-skinned and angular and smiling at anyone who might catch her eye.
“You know it’s your fault we’re here, Zane,” said Cherise. “Tell him, Braden.”
Braden gave a slight smile and looked down. “She made me admit that I’d probably still be waiting for a team if you hadn’t grabbed me. Satisfied?”
Cherise nodded. “M
y confession? I’d never have thought to do the wheel first. So it’s your fault we’re still here, Zane.”
“I think they’re trying to thank you,” Elijah said.
“I get it,” said Zane, “but, really, it was me being selfish. I needed you guys fast. I just guessed right.”
“Instincts, I tell you,” said Elijah. “The guy has amazing instincts.”
“Okay, Answer Man,” said Zane. “You know what I think? They should let us form our own team. We’d do good.”
“Well,” said Elijah.
“Well, what?”
Elijah looked startled.
Zane laughed. “You didn’t mean to say ‘well’ out loud. You were correcting my English. Then fine, Elijah. I will use proper grammar. We’d do well. Better?”
Elijah was saved by Randy Wright. “And now the final round of the day.”
The scoreboard lit with a nine-by-nine grid of numbered squares.
Zane leaned in to his group. “If we have to answer eighty-one questions, Elijah wins.”
“And no,” said Randy Wright, “it’s not an eighty-one-answer challenge.”
Elijah nudged Zane. “You’re turning into a steel rod again.”
Zane took a couple of deep breaths while Randy Wright continued.
“Each square represents a question. You must correctly answer five questions whose squares all share at least one side. Touching at the corners doesn’t count. And . . .” He paused.
“Once five of you have correctly answered a question associated with a square, that square will go dark. No one else will be allowed to choose it. Our guides will hand you each a GollyReader, which you will use to claim your questions and type in your answers.”
Elijah looked up to Zane. “This is where your strategy comes in.”
“I know.”
“Not that I’m asking for any hints.”
“You don’t need them.”
“I know.”
“But if it’s not me, I want it to be you,” said Zane. “Stay away from one through thirty-one. Too many people will pick their birthdays. Also stay away from the middle. They’ll be scared to get boxed in. You can answer anything, though, so start on an edge. Number sixty-three’s good.”
“Thanks,” said Elijah. “You’re doing that?”
“A modified version. I’m not as smart as you.”
Cherise turned. “What are you two whispering about?”
Zane liked Cherise and Braden, but he had to keep some advantages for himself. “He’s trying to convince me not to freak out.”
The Golly guide handed out GollyReaders. “You look like a cozy group,” she said, “but start saying your good-byes. We’re about to split you up.” The woman turned.
“Wait,” said Cherise. “How many people after this round?”
The woman looked over her shoulder. “I don’t exactly know, honey. That’s above my pay grade.” She winked and left.
“Did she really not know?” asked Braden.
“She knows,” Zane and Elijah said at the same time.
Within seconds, Randy Wright was back. “Look at us. We have sixty-five rows of seats in the stadium, and we’ve bunched you up. Not for long.” Randy Wright had them power up their GollyReaders. “Your opening screen should now have your assigned row.”
The four of them compared numbers: Braden, 12; Cherise, 37; Elijah, 4; and Zane up top at 65.
“Get going and take any seat in that row,” said Randy Wright.
Elijah and Braden didn’t even say good-bye. They just shot down the bleachers.
“That was a little awkward,” said Cherise. She gave Zane a hug. “Thanks again. I’ll think about you when I’m spending my gift certificate.”
Zane smiled. “You never know. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
He went up two rows and chose a shaded spot. His GollyReader vibrated. Zane touched the screen. On it were the instructions, basically what Randy Wright had said about answering five questions in adjoining squares. Also, he wouldn’t know if his answers were right or wrong until the end. If he was working on a question that was no longer available, his GollyReader would tell him. The full, updated grid would only appear on the scoreboard.
Zane put his game plan together. He’d normally start with square twenty-one, his jersey number, but twenty-one was a day of the month, probably someone’s birthday, and a multiple of lucky seven. He’d move it down two rows to thirty-nine. An unlikely number. Third from the left, fifth from the top. He’d start there and work his way to the left edge—thirty-eight and thirty-seven—then see what was available.
He was ready. He took in a few deep breaths. Poised his finger over the keyboard.
“You may start,” said Randy Wright, “in five, four, three, two, one, GO!”
Zane punched in the three, then the nine.
QUESTION 39
________
OIL-
ILL
“Oil” minus “ill”? But why would the minus sign be in the wrong place? “Oil” dash “ill”? And what was that line at the top? If it were a math problem a line like that would be at the—
He turned his GollyReader upside down.
Easy math. Zane typed 61 in the answer box, then glanced at the scoreboard. Question 38 was still open. Zane requested it.
QUESTION 38
THERE WAS ONE PRODUCT THADDEUS G. GOLLIWOP REGRETTED NEVER HAVING MADE. (HINT: IT WAS A VERSION OF THE FAMOUS TOY WITH COOKIE-SHAPED DISKS AND A STRING IN THE MIDDLE.) NAME IT.
Thank goodness for the hint. Thank goodness Zane had spent a year obsessed with yo-yos. With yo-yo typed in, he stole another glance at the scoreboard. He was still good.
QUESTION 37
FIVE FOOTBALL PLAYERS ARE LINED UP IN THIS ORDER:
WHEN THE SIXTH PLAYER SHOWS UP, WHICH NUMBER SHOULD BE ON HIS JERSEY?
Great. Distract him with thoughts of football. But this wasn’t about football. This was a number sequence. Okay. To get from eight to ten, add two. To get from ten to eighteen, add eight, the previous number. To get from eighteen to twenty, add two. To get from twenty to thirty-eight, add the eighteen. But wait. Was that the eighteen itself or was it the sum of the two previous numbers? It didn’t matter. It was time to add two again. He typed in 40.
Three down, two to go. The grid was starting to blacken at potential birthday numbers and right in the middle. He went down.
QUESTION 46
IF A BAT AND A CAT WERE ON A HAT, WHERE MIGHT YOU FIND A DOG AND A FROG?
(MULTIPLE ANSWERS POSSIBLE. GIVE US ONE.)
Seriously? Could it be that easy? In a bog? On a log? He chose “log” over “bog” because “bat,” “cat,” and “hat” progressed alphabetically. “Bog” wouldn’t have.
Just one more. An easy one, please.
The grid was even darker. In fact, he had only 40, 46, and 56 touching his other numbers. And there went 40. He went with 56.
QUESTION 56
NAME TWO TYPES OF MAZES YOU MAY HAVE GONE THROUGH IN THE PAIRS CHALLENGE.
Zane was whipping through these like smashing down tackling dummies. He entered corn for the one they’d gone through and glacier for the one he’d wanted. He looked up at the scoreboard. Square 56 went dark.
Chapter 16
Congratulations! flashed his GollyReader. Five right!
Either Zane was a genius, his method worked, or he got lucky. That couldn’t have taken more than five minutes. Exactly what were they testing?
Elijah probably knew. There he was, legs propped on the bench in front of him, elbows on the one in back, looking as relaxed as if he were on a beach chair. He was probably the only relaxed person in the place.
Braden had just finished, but Cherise was still hunched over her GollyReader. She needed to hurry. The remaining squares—most around the edges—were going black every few seconds. Soon the entire scoreboard went dark to the sound of scattered groans.
Randy Wright trotted to midfield. “And the squares are gone! Time to look at yo
ur GollyReaders, and hit the What’s Up button.”
Zane did.
WHAT’S UP? YOU COLLECTED FIVE ADJOINING SQUARES. PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE.
He looked toward the lower rows of bleachers. There was Elijah turned toward Zane, his arms straight above his head, both hands clutching his GollyReader. Zane mimicked his pose. But Cherise and Braden were heading out with almost everyone else.
“Sorry to say good-bye to so many now,” said Randy Wright. “Enjoy your two-hundred-dollar Golly gift certificates.”
Zane counted. Only twenty left in the stadium. It was still too many, but hadn’t Randy Wright said something about this being the final round of the day?
His GollyReader vibrated in one quick pulse. The screen went dark, then came back with WHAT’S UP? again. Zane touched it. The screen blinked TOP 20! EXCEPT . . .
Except what?
Zane poked the screen again.
. . . ONLY 8 WILL BE FINALISTS AND 2 WILL BE ALTERNATES. THE OTHER 10 WILL HEAD HOME WITH $1,000. HARD TO SEPARATE WHO’S WHO, SO . . .
C’mon. He jabbed at the screen.
THE FIRST 8 TO REACH THIS SCREEN . . .
Jab.
YOU’RE NUMBER 2!!!
That was it? He was in? Zane’s metal rod became a pogo stick, and he was riding that thing.
And there was Elijah, jumping himself!
“And now that you know your fate,” said Randy Wright, “you—”
A kid in Section C had slammed his GollyReader into the bench.
“I saw that!” said Randy Wright. “Looks like you might have made a big mistake, Section C guy, because the GollyReaders are yours to keep.
“As ten of you exit, remember to spend your thousand dollars in cash wisely. Meanwhile, top ten? Please join me on the field.”
It turned out the guy who slammed his GollyReader was actually number nine. “I don’t want to be an alternate,” he grumbled when he reached the field. “I do not want to be an alternate.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Randy Wright stuck out his hand. “I’m Randy, and you are?”
“Berk. And I—”
“I know,” said Randy. “You do not want to be an alternate. We can arrange that. You are free to go. We will call back number eleven.”