The Pandora Device Read online

  “Now open to the first page.”

  I read the instructions and then relaxed. We were given a story, and we simply had to tell what happened next. I wrote as fast as I could, ideas popping into my mind. If this was all there was to the test, it might be fun. But I was only on my second page when Mr. Parker asked us to stop and turn to the next section, which was filled with puzzles. Some of them were like the ones I did with Grandma in the newspaper, but most of them were strange, involving rotating shapes in your head and matching them to other shapes.

  “Huh,” Jayden muttered from behind me, but I heard his pencil scratching on the paper. His grandmother must have talked to him.

  After the paper test, Mr. Parker took us in groups of four and held up cards with symbols on them. Then he turned them over, and we took turns guessing what was on the cards. I had no idea what we were doing, but I played along. Ellen was in my group, and she made a great fuss about touching each card before she made her guess.

  “What a stupid test,” she muttered so only I would hear.

  My stomach was churning like the time I did too many somersaults in gym class. The second part of the exam was too hard. What if I didn’t pass the test? In my mind, I saw the three green canoes on the lake. My parents sat in one of them as it floated farther and farther from the shore.

  Chapter Three

  The next week Mrs. Taylor asked me to come to her office after school. Lindsey and Jayden were already there when I arrived. Mrs. Taylor was simmering about something. She kept pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose while glancing out the window at the paved parking lot.

  “I asked you three to come to my office because I have something important to tell you.” She paused and looked out the window again. Nothing had changed, so she continued, her voice rising with excitement. “A team from our school is receiving a scholarship to Camp Hawthorne, and Mr. Parker is coming to present the invitations.”

  At that moment Mr. Parker sauntered into the office. Mrs. Taylor beamed. “Here he is now.”

  Mr. Parker wore the same outfit with the black high tops and green bow tie. He went to each of us in turn and shook our hands, and he even remembered our names. Then he brought out three envelopes. Lindsey squeaked when he handed the first one to her.

  Before he presented my invitation, he held it up for a moment. “Expect the unexpected, Stella,” he said solemnly. I took the crisp envelope in my hand. I was so happy I thought I would stop breathing altogether. We had a team, and we were going to camp!

  But there was a problem. Jayden wouldn’t accept his invitation. He left Mr. Parker standing there, holding it out to him.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he mumbled and slunk out of the room.

  I dashed after him, arguing the whole way to the playground. “We need a team if we’re going to get the scholarship,” I said. “It’s not fair to the rest of us.”

  He turned away, dribbling the basketball around the court.

  Mr. Parker had followed right behind us, and he caught the ball on a rebound. The corners of his mouth curved up in a lopsided smile, and he twirled the ball around on his finger.

  Jayden raised an eyebrow but kept the frown.

  “Why not read the invitation, at the very least?” Mr. Parker suggested. He squinted at the basket and took a shot. It bounced off the rim, and Jayden caught the ball in one smooth motion, sending it back through the hoop.

  “Maybe,” he replied.

  “Cheerio, then.” Mr. Parker slipped the invitation into Jayden’s shirt pocket. The motion was so quick that Jayden didn’t know it was happening until too late. He pulled out the envelope and stared at it.

  “I’m telling Miss Charlotte you got your invitation today,” I crowed and ran back to our neighborhood as fast as I could so he wouldn't have a chance to deny it.

  At home I climbed the stairs to my room, which Grandma called the “robin’s nest.” I liked it because it was so high in the house that the bags of Grandma’s findings didn’t filter up there. One wall had an old bookcase that Lindsey’s mom had helped me paint pale blue. The White Whale sat on the top shelf with my favorite books lined up beside it. My bed was tucked under the sloping roof, and Lindsey and I had made a mobile of paper birds to swirl above it.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and studied the invitation—a tan envelope with a square containing the letter C and H pressed onto it. I ran my fingers over the ridges, admiring how fancy it was, before slipping my finger under the flap and loosening the glue so the envelope didn’t tear. The invitation was made of the same tan paper and appeared to be written by hand with a fountain pen. It crackled when I unfolded it. I read:

  An invitation is extended to Miss Stella Harski

  to attend Camp Hawthorne for two weeks.

  A scholarship is provided, but each camper

  is responsible to bring sheets, towels, a sleeping bag,

  clothing, swimsuit and other necessities.

  No cell phones or other electronic devices please.

  The bus will depart at 9 a.m.

  from Williams Middle School on June 21st.

  I raced downstairs to show Grandma, who was puttering around in the kitchen. She was as giddy as I was over the invitation.

  “We have to begin packing right away,” she said. She led the way to the living room and pushed through the piles, wheezing a little as she stirred up dust.

  “Wait Grandma, let me do that for you.” I squeezed in behind her. “Just tell me what you’re looking for.”

  She stopped to consider. “I know there’s a suitcase in here somewhere and at least one sleeping bag.”

  I scanned the room. It seemed like the sleeping bag ought to be in the corner. As I waded through the mounds of stuff, a moldy suitcase banged me on the knees, and I pulled it out triumphantly.

  “Good girl,” Grandma said. “And there should be some bug spray in here, too.”

  By dinnertime we had a heap at the foot of the stairs with hiking boots, two baseball caps, a rusty can of bug spray, a butterfly net and a sleeping bag.

  Grandma gave the butterfly net a swish. “I always thought this would be useful.”

  “I bet I’ll be the only camper with all the necessities,” I said.

  Even though camp was a week away, I packed everything that night. Before closing the suitcase, I added the things from my mother’s box: the red bandana, the key chain, and the camp photo of my parents, which I put in a plastic frame.

  The last day of school was Field Day, which Lindsey loved, but I thought pointless. School had run out before we had time for the baking soda experiment in the science book, but the teachers thought it was okay to use the last day for games?

  Jayden was always the class star on Field Day. He ran the fastest and threw the ball the straightest, and it got on my nerves how the other kids who ignored him all year started clapping him on the back and cheering for him.

  Ellen stood next to me while we waited for the egg relay. “I heard you have to go to that camp,” she said.

  “No one has to go,” I said. “It just so happens I’ve never been to camp and particularly wanted to go this year.”

  “Is Jayden going?” she asked, and the way she said it made me feel like she was accusing me of something. “I heard you arguing with him about it.”

  Lindsey was just returning with the egg, so I had a chance to escape. I held out my spoon and took off down the field. I didn’t want to admit to Ellen that even on the last day of school I didn't know if Jayden was coming.

  School let out early, and I got home in time to meet the mailman. “A letter for you, Stella,” he said, giving me a wink. “Perhaps a secret admirer.”

  That was our private joke, but it was true that the letter came without a return address. Just a flimsy white envelope with my name and address on the outside. I pulled out a piece of paper printed with the words:

  STELLA, FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, DON’T TRY TO FIND OUT ABOUT YOUR PARENTS.

  My hand
trembled, and the words seemed to blur. I stood in the front hall trying to breathe slowly like Mrs. Taylor taught me and wondering if I should show Grandma. She knew about Camp Hawthorne and my parents, but who else knew? What if it was the brown people? My stomach clenched, and I pushed that thought away. The brown people were just a story that Lindsey and I made up.

  I breathed in and out again. Camp Hawthorne was my only link to my parents. I couldn’t let anything get in the way of going there. I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. My chest ached as though I’d just run the hundred yard dash, but I told myself I’d think about the message later. I was going to camp tomorrow.

  Chapter Four

  I woke up the next morning with a jittery stomach. I’d had a nightmare that there were only two people waiting for the bus, and the driver shook his head and said, “Sorry, I can’t take you if you don’t have a team of three.”

  I ate a hurried breakfast of cornflakes and took Grandma her breakfast in bed. I was anxious about leaving her by herself.

  She snorted at the sight of coffee and cereal arranged on a tray. “I’m just in danger of being lonely. I haven’t lost the use of my legs.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “Of course I will.” She drew me close in a hug. “Go have fun at camp.”

  Before I left, I opened the suitcase and made sure my parents’ photograph was still on top. I tied my mother’s bandana around my neck and put her key chain in my pocket. Then I let myself out the front door, closing it quietly behind me. I felt as though any sound might disturb the morning stillness that hung over the neighborhood. I breathed in the smell of wet grass and summer roses. Vacation had really and truly begun.

  I walked to Lindsey’s house, and her little sister Peggy opened the door. “Mom’s making Lindsey wake up,” she said. “Want to see my wiggly tooth?”

  I admired her tooth while Lindsey called from upstairs that she was almost ready. She ran down the steps, her blonde hair in a long braid down her back. I wished I’d thought of something special to do with my hair for camp. Braids would probably look better with my mousy brown hair.

  Lindsey must have read my face. “Don’t worry, Stella. You look fine. Doesn’t she, Mom?”

  Lindsey’s mother was an artist, and I trusted her. She studied me for a moment. “You don’t want to cover those gray eyes,” she murmured, reaching out to brush my hair back from my face. “Now you look just right for an adventure.”

  I hoped it was true.

  We gathered our bags, and Lindsey’s mother drove us to school.

  “Nice,” Lindsey said, tapping the butterfly net. “Where’d you get it?

  “Grandma found it.”

  “She can find anything,” she said, running her fingers though the silky net.

  I thought of Grandma alone in our sagging old house and hoped she would be all right.

  At the school Lindsey’s mother waited with us. She looked up at the sky, which had dimmed to gray. “I’m afraid it looks like rain on your first day of camp.”

  But I was worrying about other things. “What if we don’t have a team of three—will they let us on the bus?”

  “You worry too much,” Lindsey said.

  She was always telling me that—like the time I found the chart that showed the risk of dying from a car crash. It was only 1%, but both my parents had died that way. If a probability of 1% could happen, other bad things could happen. Like death by accidental injury—that was 3%. I took a deep breath and held it until I felt better.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. The message from yesterday still weighed on my mind. “Do you suppose there’s anything wrong with trying to learn more about my parents?”

  Lindsey shrugged. “Why would there be?” She paused and looked at me. “Why are you asking?”

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell her about the warning note. “It’s just that Grandma won’t talk about them. I wondered if there might be some secret.”

  She laughed. “That’s even more reason to find out about them.”

  At that moment my watch beeped for the hour—9:00—and I spotted Jayden in the distance. His ball cap was pulled low over his eyes, and he was carrying his bag and a basketball. He slouched to a stop a few feet away as though he didn’t want to admit we were waiting for the same bus.

  I wanted to smile at him, but I was afraid it would make him leave.

  I picked up my suitcase, ready for the bus which would be coming any minute. But instead of the bus, a sleek red car purred up in front of the school, and Ellen stepped out. She had a rolling suitcase with a matching navy sleeping bag strapped to the top.

  I clutched the butterfly net a little tighter. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m going to camp, too.” She straightened the headband in her curly red hair and arranged her luggage on the curb. Then she stiffly hugged her mother through the car window.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait with you?” her mother asked.

  “Mom, we already talked about this,” she said.

  Her mother’s face fell, but she tooted the horn cheerfully and pulled off.

  Ellen was inspecting everyone’s baggage, and she pointed to Lindsey’s pillowcase with the purple ponies. “You are a rising seventh grader, right?”

  “Of course,” she replied, giving Ellen one of her level stares.

  I moved in front of my suitcase and tried to hide the butterfly net behind my back.

  Lindsey’s mom came to the rescue. “I’m glad to see you, Ellen. I didn’t know you were going to camp.”

  Ellen smirked. “My father contacted the camp and made special arrangements for me to go.”

  “But you told everyone camp was a stupid idea,” I said.

  She tossed her curls behind her shoulder. “I changed my mind.”

  I looked at Lindsey out of the corner of my eye. She was humming and staring off into space. Jayden turned away, spinning his ball on one finger. I wanted to ask more questions, but before I could figure out what to say, a white bus rounded the corner and stopped in front of the school with a puff of blue smoke.

  On the side was the square logo with the C and H like our invitations. The driver opened the door, and I held my breath. Would he let us all on the bus?

  Mr. Parker appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. He wore the same black high top sneakers and bow tie, but today he’d added bright green suspenders. “Jayden, Stella, Lindsey and Ellen,” he called out. I let out my breath in a whoosh.

  Mr. Parker opened a door in the side of the bus, and we stowed our bags with a collection of boxes, suitcases and odd shapes that might have been instrument cases.

  Lindsey’s mother hugged both of us. “Don’t forget to write home,” she called as we went up the steps.

  The bus was already crowded with kids, crammed three to a seat. Some of them wore Camp Hawthorne T-shirts, and I figured they had been to camp before. The only empty seats were near the back. I sat between Lindsey and Ellen, while Ellen looked around the bus, as though trying to find someone else to talk to.

  Lindsey squirmed next to me. “This is so exciting,” she whispered.

  Jayden found an empty seat directly in front of us, next to a tall girl with long black hair. He leaned his arms on his basketball and looked at his shoes.

  The door banged shut, and the bus lurched forward.

  Mr. Parker stood swaying against the pole in the front. “I must ask everyone to stay in their seats for this next passage.” he said.

  The word “passage” sounded odd to me.

  The bus rolled around the back of the school and turned onto Perkins Lane which used to be a railway track. We bumped along the road where the track was paved over.

  “Why are we going this way?” I muttered to Lindsey. “There’s nothing out here but the train tunnel.”

  Simmons Hill loomed ahead of us. The tunnel was cut in the rock with tangles of vines covering the hole like a green curtain
.

  Ellen pinched my arm. “We’re not going through the tunnel, are we?” she said.

  “We can’t. There are bars across the entrance. We’ll have to turn off a side road.”

  But the bus didn't turn. It sped straight ahead so fast that it wasn't until we plunged through the mouth of the tunnel that I realized the bars were gone.

  Chapter Five

  Ellen shrieked and the bus hurtled into blackness. I gripped the seat in front of me and tried to breathe. If the possibility of dying by car accident was 1%, what was the possibility of dying in a bus speeding through a pitch black tunnel?

  Kids were shouting and hurrahing like they were on a roller coaster. “The last tunnel’s the best!” someone whooped.

  The darkness pressed in, and my eyes strained for any hint of light. Only the rocking of my seat assured me we were still moving. Then the bus veered around a curve, and I was thrown against Lindsey. When I regained my balance, I saw a glimmer of blue in the distance—a circle of sky that rapidly grew larger and larger, until we shot out into the yellow light of a summer day.

  A hush fell over the bus, as though everyone was waiting for something. Outside the windows, every sign of our neighborhood had disappeared. Even the old railroad track was gone. Instead, in every direction were green fields with cows grazing here and there.

  “Where are we?” I said.

  The girl sitting next to Jayden tossed her head, and her long black hair flicked across my face. “Newbies,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?” I whispered to Lindsey.

  She was back in her dream world staring at the sky. “Puffy clouds,” she murmured. She was right—the sky had changed. It was no longer the same overcast sky from our wait in front of the school.

  A minute later the bus turned onto a dirt road. A wooden Camp Hawthorne sign hung from an arch made from three logs. The other kids erupted in cheers. “We’re here,” hooted someone. Things were happening so fast that I felt dizzy.