by Sheela Chari
I had to talk to somebody. It was too late to call Ana, and I wasn’t sure I could talk to Peter. Not after the way he acted with the black book. But there was someone else. As much as I loathed the idea, I needed her help. So I went to my room and took down the business card stuck to The Wall.
She came immediately. I waited at the window so she wouldn’t have to ring the doorbell.
“That’s four lines,” Kai said as soon as I opened the door. No hi, just right out with it.
“I know. I told you that on the phone already.”
“Then it’s not a Fencer tag. I’ve seen them before. It’s always three lines.”
I waited. “So what does that mean?”
She was about to answer when Dad came down the hall. “Oh, hello, Kai!” he said, surprised.
Kai’s face slipped for a fraction of a second. “Hi, Mr. Rajan.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Kai’s helping me with American Studies,” I said quickly. “We have to write about a historical landmark. She works at the newspaper, so she had some information for me.”
“Really?” Dad asked. “Working there at your age?”
Kai’s eyes darted at me. “Oh, you know me.”
“Kai was in my math class a few years ago,” Dad explained to me. Then he said to her, “Now look at you! In high school! Time flies!”
I threw a look at Kai, who shrugged.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. You want to work in the study?”
“No, how about your room, Myla?” Kai asked, already walking to the stairs.
As we went up, I said accusingly, “You lied about college. You’re really in high school.”
“Fine. So what?”
We got to my room and I stopped. “I’m not even sure I should trust you. Maybe you don’t know anything about the Fencers. Maybe you don’t even work for the newspaper.” I saw Cheetah standing outside his door, watching us. Kai saw him, too.
“Can we talk inside?” she asked me. We went in my room and Kai shut the door. “Okay, I lied about my age. I’m sixteen. But everything else is true. I do work for the newspaper. I’m an intern, but I do everything the other writers do. I’ve been following this case with Scottie Biggs and the Fencers ever since I was young. I really do know everything about it. And maybe this will be the first article I write and publish completely on my own.”
“So?” Her publishing an article had nothing to do with the four lines on my front door.
“So . . . ,” Kai said evenly. “That’s not a Fencer tag on your door.”
“You already said that.”
“It’s someone who drew it wrong. Somebody trying to make the tag, maybe to scare you. Is there someone like that you know?”
I didn’t say anything.
I saw Kai staring intently at The Wall. I was suddenly conscious of everything up there—all the pieces of graffiti I had copied, the notes about her snooping and what I knew about the house next door, and the moon forecast I’d cut out from our newspaper. But it was the note from Craggy she zeroed in on. “Who’s trying to find you, Myla?” she asked.
I still didn’t say anything.
“How are the new neighbors?”
“They’re nice,” I said.
“You met Peter yet?”
“Yeah, he’s nice, too.” I was discovering how useful the word “nice” was.
Kai sighed. “I’m here because you called. And if we work together, you can be safe.” She sat at my desk. “I’ll start with what I know. Because I know what the Fencers are looking for.”
“That’s the craziest story I’ve heard,” I said when she was done. “Diamonds hidden here.”
“But Scottie lived in Dobbs,” Kai answered. “And next door was the last place he was seen before his arrest. So why shouldn’t the Fencers look for them here?”
“Yeah, but to say Scottie gave the diamonds to Rose.”
“Consider the facts. Rose lived in Dobbs. She was a diamond cutter. And she was Margaret’s friend.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Scottie was last seen in Margaret’s house!” Kai exclaimed. “One of them had the diamonds, Scottie or Rose, and they hid them somewhere. Diamonds don’t vanish into thin air.”
I thought over what she said. Actually, it was kind of exciting—something that valuable, hidden all these years in the town where I lived. But it still didn’t explain why the Fencers wanted my necklace. Isn’t that what Craggy had said? Could the diamonds and the necklace be connected in some way?
I debated, then I told Kai. “There might be another reason the Fencers are looking for me,” I said. I held up my necklace. “It started with this.” Then I told her about Craggy following me in Yonkers.
“Interesting,” Kai said. “Rose made those finders necklaces, you know.”
“Really?’ I asked, surprised. “Peter has one, too.”
Kai nodded. “Makes sense. She’s his grandmother.”
“But what do you think it means, Peter and I having the same necklace?”
Kai wasn’t sure. “It doesn’t all add up . . . yet.”
“So what do I do?”
“We need to work together. We need to figure out why your necklace is important to the Fencers. But in the meantime, don’t tell Peter anything. Don’t tell him you know about the missing diamonds. For all you know, he’s the one who marked your door.”
“Peter wouldn’t do that,” I said quickly.
“Yes, but I don’t think we can trust him yet. We need to make sure he’s not working for the Fencers. Don’t look so shocked! Keep an eye on him, see what he knows, learn his routine. Who does he talk to? Maybe he carries a phone or a notebook to school.”
“I haven’t seen a phone, but he does have a small black book,” I said slowly.
Kai sat up suddenly. “Well, there you go,” she said.
“What, spy on Peter? That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
“No, isn’t it obvious?” Kai leaned forward. “You have to take his black book.”
“What!” I exclaimed. “I can’t do that!”
“Myla, think. What if there’s something in there—a phone number? Names?” She paused. “And graffiti writers carry black books, too. Maybe Peter’s the one painting all those Oms recently.”
I was amazed by how Kai made that leap. But I didn’t like this change in direction. “I’m not taking Peter’s black book,” I said.
“Well, maybe you won’t,” she said as she stood up from my desk, “or maybe you can’t because you don’t have the guts. In which case, I’ll do it for you instead.”
My eyes narrowed. “Wait, why would you? And you’d never get to it. He has it with him all the time, including school.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way.”
What way was she talking about? I started jumping on her to explain, but she wouldn’t answer any more questions. “I have to go. Just keep your mouth shut and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I ran to my door as she was walking out. “But what’s in it for you?” I asked.
Kai just smiled. “I would hate it if something happened to you because of the Fencers. Especially if we had a chance to stop it.”
Then she left. I saw Cheetah watching worriedly from behind his bedroom door.
That night I tossed and turned. Finally I sat up, wide awake, staring into the darkness. Kai wanted me to steal Peter’s black book, but it didn’t make sense. I was sure Peter wasn’t a Fencer. I thought of us sitting at his table yesterday afternoon, how we were serious one moment, laughing the next. I thought of the bag of Cheetos he offered. And I remembered how the cover of his black book felt, bruised and battered, and like the most important thing he owned. How could I take something like that away from him?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was Kai who wanted the black book. And she was using me to get to it. I turned on the light, and went over to The Wall. I found the list I’d m
ade last week, of all the things I knew about Margaret’s house. It was where Scottie Biggs was last seen. And it was where I found Kai searching room after room, taking photos. What had she been searching for?
“The diamonds,” I whispered. Did she think they were hidden in the house? Or was she looking for clues? Either way, it was the diamonds she wanted. And maybe she wanted to write her story, too, but imagine what she’d write if she actually found them.
But why did she need the black book? What was the rest of the story she told me—how there were rumors that the diamonds were hidden and marked by an Om. Is that what these tags were? I’d thought they were some kind of communication. But what if the Oms were something else? Like a trail leading to the jewels? Kai seemed to think that Peter’s family was the link to the diamonds. Maybe she also thought the answer was in that black book.
I paced back and forth across my floor, thinking and thinking until I grew tired. One thing I knew for sure. Kai wasn’t getting that black book through me. I was done asking for her help. Instead, I would talk to Peter tomorrow. I would ask him about the diamonds and the four lines on my door. I trusted him a lot more than I trusted Kai. Maybe Peter and I could figure some of this stuff out together.
I fingered my necklace. Om. It was a word that was supposed to bring you peace. Yet this piece of jewelry had complicated my life in so many ways. I took it off and put it in my desk drawer. Maybe it was better that way . . . at least for tomorrow. Then I turned off the light and went back to bed.
In the morning, when I came downstairs, Mom had colored over the black Sharpie lines on the door with a red Sharpie so you couldn’t see them from far away. But that didn’t help me. I hadn’t slept well, and in the bathroom mirror, I saw circles under my eyes.
Cheetah noticed. “Kai really freaked you out last night,” he said to me on the curb as we watched Dad back the car out of the driveway.
“No, she didn’t,” I said not very convincingly.
We got into the backseat and Dad pulled out onto Cherry Street.
“Forget about her,” Cheetah whispered. “Anybody that scares you is bad.”
Dad fiddled with the radio and tuned to NPR.
“Life doesn’t always work that way,” I whispered back to my brother.
“I-n-s-t-i-n-c-t,” he said.
“What, now you’re spelling words at me?”
He shook his head. “It’s not just a spelling word.”
Like that helped.
It was Friday morning, and I was late to class. I had trouble sleeping, thinking about last night’s conversation with Uncle Richard, the diamonds, and Grandma Rose, and how a new life was waiting for us if we could solve the puzzle she’d left behind. Meanwhile, Mr. Clay was asking everyone to take out their ads. I barely got mine out when he called on me to share. Really? Was it because I was tardy? I knew some teachers who worked that way. I looked at Myla but she was writing something in her notebook.
“I did mine on a person, not a place,” I said. “The Keeper of the Aqueduct. Here it is:
“Come one, come all! Come see how history gets made, as water from Croton Dam gets pumped forty-one miles to the city, quenching the scorching thirst of New York’s finest residents. As a Keeper, I make sure there are no cracks or leaks in the pipes, nothing to stop the water from getting where it’s going. I’m careful and I work hard. At the end of the day I kick back at my house with some malt beer. Maybe you’ll join me and see why my job is the most important one in all of New York!”
Mr. Clay smiled. “I see you’re also advertising malt beer, one of New York’s famous beverages. And scorching? Is that a reference to the Great New York Fire?”
“Wasn’t that one of the reasons for the Aqueduct?” I asked. “There wasn’t enough water to put out fires in the city?”
He nodded. “Save that thought,” he told me.
After everyone was done and we turned in our ads, Mr. Clay told us how normally we would watch a movie next, but that this year we were doing something different.
“We’re fortunate to have one of our alumnae here today to tell us more about the Aqueduct.” At the door, he motioned to someone. Then who should come in but Kai Filnik.
A parkour real estate agent talking about the Aqueduct? This I had to see. I checked if Myla found this as hilarious as me. Instead, I was surprised to see another type of expression on her face. She was positively horrified. Like it was Christmas in hell. Like any minute she was going to keel over and die. Really? All because of Kai Filnik?
“I’m so excited to share my honors project with you guys,” Kai said. “Mr. Clay used to be my teacher, too, and he was totally cool.”
Okay. Snooze time. But then she started her slideshow, and even though her voice was like nails going down the blackboard, what she showed us was kind of interesting. First, she put up slides of the Aqueduct getting made, and the stonemasons who came from Italy and Ireland to build the Croton Dam. Then she showed us how it all got put together, with miles and miles of brick tunnels laid down that carried the water from Croton River to Manhattan.
“Gravity moved ninety million gallons of water a day,” Mr. Clay interjected. “And no one even saw it or heard it. It was like a precious resource for everyone, hidden underground, like . . .” He paused. “Like the earth had a secret.”
Kai smiled. “That’s right, Mr. Clay. And there were other people in on that ‘secret.’ They were called ‘keepers’ like I heard Peter telling you while I was sitting outside. They were stationed along the Aqueduct, and maintained the pipes and tunnels.”
I glanced at Myla again, who finally looked at me. She smiled, but it was a weird smile. Then her eyes flickered back to the screen. It was the most confusing thing. Was she mad at me? Or what? I looked back at the screen, too, and whoa. I was startled to see something I actually recognized.
“This is High Bridge,” Kai explained, “which just reopened over the summer. The bridge carried Aqueduct water over the Harlem River to Manhattan.”
Randall had been asking to see this bridge all summer, but Ma didn’t have time. I’d never noticed how beautiful the bridge was.
“High Bridge is the oldest standing bridge in New York City,” Mr. Clay said.
“Older than the George Washington Bridge?” someone asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Clay said. “And it’s a beauty.”
I looked at the way the arches under High Bridge went up and down like a McDonald’s sign. Then something about that made me stop.
The lights came on as Mr. Clay thanked Kai for sharing her presentation with us.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay and listen,” she said. “Your class is the best.”
I don’t think I’d seen a bigger smile on Mr. Clay’s face. He started talking to us about our assignment for Monday. Meanwhile, I spread open the black book inside my American Studies textbook. There was something I had to check, something from Kai’s slide that triggered an image in my head. It didn’t take me long to find my pop’s drawing. And I saw I was right. It wasn’t just some bridge he’d drawn. It was High Bridge, with the same arches, and the letters “HB” underneath. Not only that, there was a line with a dot in the middle that ran from it to another drawing, like a wall with steps attached to it, and the letters “CD” . . . Croton Dam! But what was my pop sketching these for?
Then class was over, so I closed the American Studies textbook on my table with the black book still inside. That’s when Kai stopped by.
“How’s it going, Peter?” she asked. “You all moved in?”
I looked up at her. “Yeah, we’re moved in. I thought you were going to do some PK for us.”
She laughed. “No, that’s for another day. I was talking to Mr. Clay. I asked if he had you, and how we wanted to make sure you and your mom were all set up in Dobbs.”
“How thoughtful,” I said. “Like your newspaper subscription.”
By now, Myla came over, too, with her textbook in tow. She moved in front of Kai, almo
st pushing her out of the way. “I’m going to get a hernia carrying this,” she said setting her book down heavily on the table next to mine. We’d got our textbooks yesterday, and Mr. Clay had warned us that they weighed seven pounds.
“Yeah, we’ll probably be bench-pressing it in PE,” I said. We both glanced at Kai, wondering if she was just going to stand there. It was awkward, us wanting to talk and the parkour girl not getting the hint.
“You’re not wearing your necklace?” I said to Myla.
“Not today,” Myla said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t.
Then, would you believe it, Ana came over next. She and Kai exchanged hellos, so I guess they knew each other, and now I was surrounded by three girls at my table. I’d say it was a compliment, except it wasn’t. There was something fishy going on.
Plus with Ana there, I felt my palms start to sweat. She had on a dark blue shirt that looked like velvet, something I’ve only read about, but you know it when you see it.
“Myla said you’re neighbors,” Ana said to me.
“Yeah, small world,” I said. “Next you’ll say your ma is the French teacher.”
Ana laughed, and her laugh was just like the sparkly earrings she wore.
Kai laughed, too. “He’s funny, isn’t he?”
“Except Ana is Norwegian,” Myla said flatly. What was up with her? Was she trying to make me look stupid?
“That’s right, I’m Norwegian,” Ana said. “It gets me in all kinds of trouble.”
“I don’t see you as trouble,” I said. And then I felt myself blush. I better shut up, that’s what. But the way Ana smiled back, it made something inside me lift high.
Meanwhile, Myla was fading like a day-old flower. She was wilting and wilting. And I don’t know, it was making me feel bad, too, so I was lifting and sinking at the same time.
Kai seemed to notice also. “Myla, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
Ana turned to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Myla said. Then all of a sudden she was like, Gotta go! She grabbed her book off the table and hurried out. We all looked at one another.