The Vanishing Game (3 page)

He told us his name was Noah, and then he showed us a large cardboard box. Opening the flaps he said, “You can use what's in here.”

The anxiety inside me eased a little as he pulled out blankets, pillows, and a flashlight. Tossing this last to Jack he added, “Don't leave it on all night. If the batteries run down I have to sneak new ones from the junk drawer. She'll notice if we go through them too fast.”

Digging out a short stack of graphic novels from the box, he handed them to me and I smiled. “Thanks, Noah.”

“Just be sure everyone's gone to bed before you use this stuff. Because if Hazel finds out, she'll go ballistic.”

“I can still see you sitting on the bottom step, explaining how we needed to wait until Hazel got zoned out on her marijuana. After that we could open the box. While we ate, you sat and talked with us, do you remember?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“It seems like yesterday to me.” I shifted a few inches away from Noah to look at him. “You asked if I was a boy or a girl, and I was embarrassed.” A couple of days before coming to Seale House, my mother had cut off my hair,
the only thing that showed I was a girl since I looked so much like a tall, awkward boy. “I was okay with your question, though, since you were being kind. I remember sitting on a pillow while you told us all about vampires.”

Noah blew out a sigh. “I'm tired. Does this have a point?”

“I want to know what's wrong with Seale House.”

“Other than it's half burned down now?”

“Exactly.” I rolled my head once to relieve the tension in my neck. “How did that happen?”

“I don't know. Someone probably lit a match.”

“Whoever burned it down must've really hated the place. Guess I can't blame them, because there was something wrong with Seale House. Something scary. Maybe it had a poltergeist.”

“Poltergeist?”

“Ghost, kid-eater … whatever you want to call it.”

Noah studied me like I was nuts. The flames etched his face with flickering tattoos. “That was all pretend. Just little kids making up stories.”

“Sure. I've been telling myself that for years, trying to escape from a place that doesn't want to let go.”

“That's crazy! Why are you pulling up all this junk from the past?”

“Believe me, Noah, meeting you again was the last thing I planned to do. But I got in some trouble tonight and didn't know where else to go.”

“What happened?”

“My car was stolen, with almost everything I had still inside it, including my phone and money.” I didn't add that I was also sure someone had been following me. “So can you just help me for now, until I figure out what to do? Then I'll get out of your life and you can pretend this unhappy evening never happened.”

“Fine. But first tell me the real reason you came back to Watertown.”

This was the Noah I remembered, never willing to let anything go. I took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. “I'm looking for Jack.”

Noah's expression grew withdrawn. “Jack's dead.”

“If you say so.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged. “I got a newspaper clipping in the mail about the fire at Seale House. It came in a Jason December envelope.”

“That's not possible!”

I dug the damp, folded envelope out of my pocket and handed it to him. There was the name printed in block letters on the top left corner. It felt as if we were once again two kids handed a riddle.

It was a humid July morning. Noah and I were sitting in our hiding place high up in the branches of the giant pine. No one could see us. Weeding the flower beds was done, and we didn't need to start making lunch for the younger kids until noon. That meant we had
one golden hour to decipher the clues. Jack had vanished but left a note challenging us to a game
.

“If you are reading this,” I read aloud as Noah peered over my shoulder, “then it means you're close to finding me. This clue leads to the final piece of the puzzle. There are pages where it is hidden, but it is not in a book. It is in plain sight, but do not take your time or it will be torn away. You must find me soon. —Jason December.”

A warm wind swayed the branches and stirred the scent of pitchy pine as Noah and I sat there, struggling to understand the clues. It wasn't until we analyzed the name “Jason December” that Noah finally figured it out
.

“Got it!” He pulled a stubby pencil from his pocket and wrote on the back of the letter
.
J
(uly)
A
(ugust)
S
(eptember)
O
(ctober)
N
(ovember)
December
.
“It's the last six months of the year.”

“That's right!” I gaped at Noah with newfound respect. “You're as smart as Jack.”

“Smarter.”

I didn't argue as we scurried down the tree and headed back to Seale House. We now knew that the last clue would be taped behind the calendar in the kitchen. It was a glorious moment
.

After that, every treasure hunt Jack sent us on and every message from him came with the code name Jason December. It was our secret and only the three of us knew what it meant
.

Noah, who had been studying the printing on the envelope, finally looked up at me. “Why are you smiling?”

My mouth fell sober. “Just remembering the first Jason December letter.”

I started to cry for real this time, no longer caring what Noah thought of me. I didn't look at him, but I sensed from his stiff posture that he was uncomfortable.

“I think he's still alive, Noah.” I shoved down the sob until my voice was steadier. “And I know that if he's in trouble he'll come to you. You're his best friend.”

I didn't confess that I'd been spying on him, hoping Jack would show up.

“He's not still alive.” Noah's voice was quiet. “He couldn't be.”

“It's because of you Jack ended up working for ISI and pushing himself so hard. And maybe it's because of them he got in trouble. What if something happened to really upset him or make him want to disappear?”

Noah just looked at me, shaking his head. His unwillingness to accept my theories caused my sense of purpose to falter, since he knew my brother better than anyone except me. I thought of the many times Jack had stayed up late chatting online with Noah, renewing a friendship that meant everything to him.

It had started more than a year ago, when Jack reconnected with Noah through a social network. After catching up on the past, they began gaming and instant messaging each other. Avid programmers, they worked on coding together, including making a security program that could latch on to invading hackers, tracking and identifying them.
This was a big accomplishment and got some serious attention in several programming clans. Then one day they were approached by a company named Internet Security, Inc.

Impatient, I checked the time on the dashboard of my Civic. I didn't want us to be late for first period again, or we'd lose lunch privileges and get stuck on campus. Ready to honk the horn, I was relieved when Jack ran through the front door and practically dove inside the car
.

“I told you to hurry!” My voice was cross as he slammed the door. Pulling away from the curb and stepping on it, I added, “Ms. Biddway is going to shoot lasers out her eyes if I'm late to class again.”

“Forget her. Guess what I just got?” He didn't wait for my answer. “An e-mail from ISI. Do you remember how they asked Noah to program for them? Now they want me too.”

“How are you going to find time for that?”

“Easy. The e-mail said they'll contact the school to see if I can start an internship with them at the new semester.”

“No way!”

“Since my grades are good, I'm sure the principal will let me. And you won't believe how much they're offering to pay.”

Working for ISI had made both Jack and Noah pretty good money for guys their age, a payoff they'd been happy to get. It had also tied up a lot of Jack's time, so there'd been a price.

My thoughts came back to the present, and I studied Noah's uncertain expression as he examined the creased newspaper clipping that had been inside the envelope. There was a photo of Seale House dated the day before Jack's accident and a caption beneath. I'd practically memorized it.

Police say a historic home on Keyes Avenue was partially destroyed when fire broke out early this morning. The house was currently unoccupied and in foreclosure. Cause of the blaze is being viewed as suspicious by fire officials, and an investigation will follow.

Flipping it over, Noah looked on the reverse side but saw no note. “Honestly, I don't know what to make of this.” He stuffed the clipping back in the envelope and handed it to me.