Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret (17 page)

Mr. Hendricks met her eyes. “I thought you should know. Under normal circumstances, I would never pass up a chance to work with Oscar Cragbridge. He is a great man. I hope he returns safe and sound soon.”

Abby forced a smile. Her emotions swirled together as she thought about what Mr. Hendricks had said—he knew tragedy. She wanted to ask if his wife went missing before she died. Had he experienced anything like she was going through now? But then she realized she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want a story that ended in death to be anything like her situation with her missing parents and grandpa. They would not die. She refused to believe they would die. Abby watched as Mr. Hendricks slowly walked back to his desk.

• • •

Before English class could begin, Abby quickly approached Ms. Entrese at her desk.

“Abby Cragbridge.” Ms. Entrese wore a gray shirt with her black pants and a thin, black sweater—her version of variety. “I hope your new accommodations are suitable.”

“They are. Thank you,” Abby said.

“I have never had to switch roommates so early in the semester,” Ms. Entrese said. “Of course, we’ve never had a student admitted to this academy ... quite like ...” Her voice went flat. “You.”

Had she been insulted? “I guess not,” Abby managed to respond.

“I was very sorry to hear about your parents and your grandfather,” Ms. Entrese continued. “I hope you’re doing okay.” The words were nice, but there was no indication that she meant them. Her eyes even looked around at others in the room while she was speaking.

“Thank you.” Abby wanted to quickly move on to the subject of her denied Bridge access, but she wasn’t fast enough.

“The police came. They asked me questions about your grandfather,” Ms. Entrese said. “I guess they’d heard that he and I had our share of disagreements in the past. Did you know that, Abby?” Her words felt like an accusation—like Abby had sent the police to question her.

“No,” Abby said. “I didn’t even know that you knew him.”

Ms. Entrese eyed Abby carefully. “If class weren’t about to start, maybe we could discuss this while you sat in the Chair. Of course, I’d take my turn in it too.” Abby had no desire to sit in the Chair any time soon. “Of course, I’d never seek to harm your grandfather, but I definitely disagreed with him.”

“What did you disagree about?” Abby asked, feeling suddenly brave.

Ms. Entrese raised an eyebrow. “That’s no concern of yours. Now, why have you come to talk with me?”

“My access to the Bridge has been denied, and I ... I was wondering if you knew anything about it,” Abby sputtered out. The plea sounded awkward, so Abby tried to correct it. “I’m just checking with all of my teachers. I don’t want to fall behind on my homework.”

“Your access has been denied?” Ms. Entrese asked louder than necessary. Abby wanted to shush her. Ms. Entrese had glanced around again, and out of the corner of her eye, Abby had noticed several students listening in. Jacqueline laughed. “I didn’t do it,” Ms. Entrese said.

Abby wasn’t sure whether to believe her. “Do you know what I can do to get my access back?”

The bell hummed, signaling the beginning of class. Ms. Entrese promptly stood. “I did you a great kindness by arranging a new dorm room for you. I don’t think you’re in a position to ask for any more favors.” She moved to the center of the room to address the class.

• • •

Abby watched as a leather soccer ball balanced on the edge of a peach basket before falling in. The basket hung from a balcony in an old school gym.

“This is the beginning of basketball,” Coach Horne explained, gesturing toward the Bridge image. “In the late 1890s, James Naismith, the man in the corner”—Coach Horne pointed in the direction of the man with a mustache and hair parted down the middle—“was looking for a game to keep the boys at a school in Springfield, Massachusetts, physically fit on rainy days and during long winters. He wanted something that would require skill rather than strength. With the help of the janitor, he mounted peach baskets to the balconies, and the students tried out his new game. They had no idea they were making history.”

Coach Horne chuckled and then continued. “Eventually they thought to take the bottom out of the baskets.” The class laughed, watching as a couple of students used a ladder to retrieve the ball. Abby imagined how inconvenient it would have been to have to retrieve the ball every time someone scored. “Of course, many of the rules have changed. For example, dribbling wasn’t part of the original game. That came later, with better balls. Since we’ll play by modern rules, and some of you may be unfamiliar with them, I’ll do a little overview.”

As Coach Horne spoke, Carol whispered, “Kind of weird to see them trying to throw a ball into a peach basket. I mean, now we’re used to like eight-foot-tall barbarian men crashing into each other, and dunking. Which, of course, I’m not complaining about. In fact, I think the muscles and shorts make modern basketball far superior to the original.”

Once again, Abby was at a loss for words.

Soon the two coaches had everyone divided into teams. Carol played on the other side of the gym, while Abby found herself on a team of four facing another team of four.

“We’re short two people,” Coach Horne said. “If it’s alright with you guys, I’d suggest Coach Adonavich and I join you. What do you think?”

Abby and the others thought for a moment. Did they want to play ball against someone as big and burly as Coach Horne?

“Okay,” one of the boys said. “Sure.”

“Are you okay with that?” Coach Horne asked Coach Adonavich. “You could politely withdraw if you don’t feel up to the challenge.”

“I never withdraw from anything,” the Russian said. “But that was a nice try.”

“Even with that limp you have?” Coach Horne said.

“It’s nothing,” she countered.

Abby could feel their competitive spirits kicking in. Somehow the atmosphere had changed from a scrimmage in gym class to a world-class rivalry.

Soon, Abby found herself playing one of the most competitive games of basketball she had ever seen, let alone experienced. She could keep up with many of the boys; she scored on them twice. But she stayed out of the middle—that was where Coach Horne ruled. He seemed to swat every shot that got close and grabbed nearly every rebound.

Coach Horne was definitely bigger and stronger, but Adonavich was quicker and more agile, and passed the ball well. Though she couldn’t stop Coach Horne under the basket, she managed to steal it from him several times.

Abby’s team maintained a slight lead for most of the game, but Coach Horne’s team battled back. With only a minute to go, a boy passed to Abby. She faked like she was going to make a move toward the basket, drawing Coach Horne toward the top of the key. Abby dished the ball off to Coach Adonavich, who drove to the hoop. Coach Horne tried to get in position to stop her. They collided, and Ms. Adonovich came crashing to the ground.

“Sorry,” Coach Horne said, quickly offering his hand to help her up.

Ms. Adonavich raised her arm to accept the offering. Her workout pants had slid up above one knee, revealing a jagged red wound that went up her leg. Abby watched as Coach Horne noticed the wound too. Ms. Adonovich quickly pulled down her pant leg. “I cut myself yesterday,” she explained. “I caught the inside of a door frame.”

“Are you okay?” Coach Horne asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Lucky for you, it has made me slower than before. Otherwise, the game wouldn’t have been this close.”

Coach Horne helped her up.

A small beep sounded.

“Time,” Coach Horne said, and dismissed the class for the showers.

As Abby walked to the locker room, she wondered how Coach Adonavich had really been cut—doorframes didn’t make jagged wounds like that.

Just before Abby entered the locker room, she looked back at Coach Horne. She caught him glancing at Coach Adonavich’s leg as she returned a basketball to the equipment box.

19

Risking It All

Derick leapt from one tree branch onto another. He tried to use his tail, but it still felt foreign. A monkey dangling from a branch several feet above him waved.

“Show off,” Derick mumbled. The other monkey was Rafa, the prodigy teacher’s assistant.

Derick’s monkey avatar leapt to the next branch and clung tight. He heard his teacher’s voice through his earpieces.

“Careful, Derick. You have shown enough promise that working with Rafael today can be a great help. But remember, though the avatar is dexterous and durable, it is also very expensive. Take it little by little. Don’t push yourself too far like last time.”

Derick took the advice and practiced clinging to the branch he was on, swinging beneath it and back up the other side. He repeated the drill over and over until it felt natural, but he was thinking about something else—a tower he needed to climb. He had tried to watch closely as Dr. Mackleprank opened the lab, but there was no way to see the code. Plus, it took a fingerprint read, and only the teacher and Rafa had clearance for that. No way could he possibly break in.

“Alright, let’s bring it in,” Dr. Mackleprank said.

Derick jumped to a lower branch, and then another. He had much more confidence than before. While most others in his class were trying to progress from walking to running, he was learning to scale trees.

Rafa’s monkey passed by, gliding downward a second or two slower than falling. He hopped from branch to branch with such agility that he seemed as at home in the tree as a human walking.

After joining Rafael’s avatar on the ground, Derick walked his monkey to the corner storage center. Then he pushed the button on the back of his neck to log off.

He felt dizzy and nauseated as he came back to reality in the lab room. Derick took a few moments to reorient himself before trying to take off the harness.

Then it came to him. He had an idea. He remembered Frederick Douglass, how waiting until the last minute had helped him. Sometimes that was when people paid the least attention. Derick would have to be as cool and calm as his namesake had been.

He walked down the hall toward the issue room, where they received their equipment and lab room assignment for the day, and where they returned their gear after labs. Derick planned quickly, pushing toward the front of the group. He wanted to be one of the first to turn in his sensors.

“Here you go,” Derick said, handing his gear to Rafa, who’d beat him to the issue room.

“You’re learning quickly,
rapaz,
” Rafael said. “Just don’t try to go too fast. If you keep practicing, you’ll join the real monkeys by the end of the semester.” Rafa didn’t seem as rigid and unfriendly as he had before. Perhaps he was warming up. Of course, that didn’t make Derick feel any better about what he was about to do. Rafa logged the gear back in and placed it on its rack. He pressed the button that made the hooks that held the sensors clamp shut.

“Thanks,” Derick said. “How did you get so good?”

“Oh, I’ve been practicing for a long time,” Rafael said.

“Makes sense. See you tomorrow,” Derick said.

Rafa nodded, and Derick moved out of the way. Rafa had many more students to help. But instead of going out into the classroom to wait for class to end, Derick paused in the issue room. He checked the clock on his rings. Rafa only had three minutes to finish checking in the equipment. Derick watched as the long-haired Brazilian worked quickly to log in all of the visors and black straps. When he was too busy, he didn’t always push the hooks closed. He was probably planning on closing them as soon as all the students left.

Derick tried to estimate his timing carefully. Like Douglass, he needed the rush to make those in charge less observant. He could tell that the other students were becoming a little more anxious as time wore on. They’d be late to class if they didn’t get done soon.

Only a minute left. Looking at Rafa one more time, and seeing him moving in a flurry, Derick decided it was now or never.

Making sure his backpack was open, Derick walked toward the door. Along the way, he passed close by the avatar sensors on the wall. He didn’t slow down or look back as he slipped a sensor off its hanger and dropped it into his pack. With any luck, no one would even notice that one was missing. Since his first day in the lab, Derrick had noticed that there were more hooks than sensors—perhaps some sensors were out for repair. Derick walked out of the room and toward the exit.

“Derick Cragbridge,” a voice said, “let’s talk.”

• • •

“Wait up, Abby,” Carol called. She ran to catch up. “Do you have your math assignment ready?”

“Yeah. Story problems are a lot better when I get to see the train leaving St. Louis traveling at sixty miles per hour,” Abby said, “but I’m still not that fond of them.”

“Math isn’t my favorite either,” Carol said. “But gym was alright. And I thought English was pretty good, as far as the Chair goes. I mean, some people’s imaginations of
Old Man and the Sea
are much better than others’.”

They approached the biology hall.

“So where do you think your brother is?” Carol said, looking around. They were supposed to meet him now. “Not that I’m excited to see him, I’m just ...
really
excited to see him.”

“I’m not sure,” Abby admitted. “He said he’d be here.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Derick said, coming out of the avatar lab. “Dr. Mackleprank wanted to tell me about some extra lab time for those at the head of the class. Scared me to death. Thought I was busted.”

“Busted? For what?” Abby asked.

Derick raised an eyebrow. “You said you’d have to be a monkey to get to the top of the tower.”

“No ...” Abby said, realizing what her brother was thinking.

“Yes,” Derick answered.

“But how could you get an avatar out of the room?” Abby asked.

“Yeah,” Carol agreed. “I have that class, and unless you have the codes and fingerprints of Dr. Mackleprank, I think you’re stuck.”

“At first, I thought the same thing,” Derick said. “I tried to look over Dr. Mackleprank’s shoulder and stuff to figure out the keycode, but then I thought the secret might be in getting info from the teacher’s aide. That didn’t work either. He seemed even more careful than Dr. Mackleprank. And then I had a genius idea.”