Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers (10 page)

Half an hour later Victor, Scott, and Franklin were enjoying a snack in the Godwin kitchen, huddled around a large map of the world. Mrs. Godwin was in the living room watching TV.

“There's Five Finger, Alaska,” said Scott, pointing at the map. “Maybe we're supposed to go there.”

Victor shook his head. “I don't think that's what this is about. The last time we spoke, the voice said that someone might be listening in. What if these locations are actually some sort of coded message?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Franklin said. “When General Washington commanded the Continental Army, his coded messages helped us win the war. Let us find the other locations on the map.”

“Here's Edinburgh,” said Victor, circling it in red. “And Neryungri, Russia. There's Saudi Arabia . . .”

“I see Niort,” said Scott.

“There's Nejran,” said Franklin. “And there, near the tip of Mexico, I see Mérida. But what does it all mean?”

Even with all the cities plotted on the map, the message wasn't any clearer. There didn't seem to be any logical order to the locations. Victor tried rearranging the letters in their names. Franklin suggested connecting the cities with lines, with the thought that they might form some sort of shape, like an arrow. Scott wanted to buy tickets and fly to each city.

 

CITIES IN THE ELECTROPHONE MESSAGE

After several hours of frustration, they called it quits. Franklin wished everyone a good night and agreed to meet the next morning to try again. Victor and Scott joined Mrs. Godwin in the living room and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted.

“Did you boys get anywhere with your puzzle?” she asked.

“Not really,” said Scott. “It's a tough one.”

“I'm sure you'll figure it out.” She turned off the TV. “I heard you mention Edinburgh. I was there years ago.”

Victor perked up. “You were?”

“Only for a short time. It was an emergency stopover on the way to Paris.”

“What happened?”

“There was a terrible storm. Lightning struck the wing, and we lost an engine. We weren't sure we were going to make it.” She shuddered. “I was never so happy to see an airport in my entire life.”

“Wow. You don't remember anything special about Edinburgh, do you?”

She shook her head. “Only the terminal. We spent a couple of hours there waiting for them to put us on a new flight.”

Victor sighed, disappointed at hitting yet another dead end.

“Hey, Mrs. Godwin, have you ever been to Nejran?” Scott asked. “Or Niort? Or Five Finger, Alaska; Mérida, Mexico; or Neryungri, Russia?”

Mrs. Godwin laughed. “I've never even heard of those places.” She looked at her watch. “Speaking of trips, isn't it time you two took a trip up to bed?”

Victor struggled to fall asleep. Every muscle in his body was exhausted, but his mind was racing. Something in his mother's story nagged at him. The airplane? The storm? The airport?

When he finally did fall asleep, he had terrible dreams. At one point he, Scott, and Franklin were flying in a fierce storm. Their plane rocked from side to side as lightning flashed in the sky. Through the window, Victor could see the Wright brothers flying closer and closer in their old-fashioned airplane. Their fangs were long and sharp, and their eyes glowed bright red.

Then Victor was in an airport. Franklin, Scott, and the Wright brothers were gone. He stood alone in front of an enormous departure board, frantically searching for a flight home. He looked down the list of destinations but couldn't make out the names of the cities. They were scrambled, as if in some sort of code.

In a flash, Victor was wide awake, his heart pounding. It was four A.M. He raced to his computer and began entering the names of the cities from the list.

As he suspected, each city was home to an airport. Each airport, Victor knew, had its own three-letter international code, used by pilots and air traffic controllers to identify them easily.

Victor grabbed a piece of paper. Scanning the list on the computer screen, he scribbled down the airport codes for each of the cities.

He knew exactly what the mysterious voice had been trying to tell them.

There was no time to waste. He woke up Scott.

It was four fifty
in the morning when Victor, Scott, and Franklin arrived at the Midnite Diner. Although the rest of the street was still asleep, the Midnite was alive with the aroma of breakfast cooking on the griddle and the sounds of lively conversation.

“It smells delicious,” marveled Franklin. “And it's only a few blocks from our house! Why have we never eaten here before?”

At the counter sat a biker, a musician with green hair, and an elderly woman with thick glasses and a poodle in her purse. The booths were filled with similarly colorful characters, all chatting in various languages.

“I don't know,” said Victor. “I guess I've always been a little afraid of this place.”

“Afraid?” said Franklin. “Victor, how many times must I tell you, science—and fine dining—is risk! Really, you should get out more.”

“There's nothing to be scared of,” added Scott, leading them toward an empty booth in the back. “This place is great.”

“You've been here before?”

“All the time. My dad's a regular.” He nodded toward the wall.

Hanging above the table was an enormous framed, autographed photo of Skip Weaver, weatherman. For some reason, he was in his underpants. Victor shook his head. In a place like the Midnite Diner, Scott's dad would fit right in.

“So why are we here, anyway?” Scott asked. “And why so early?”

“We're here to meet the voice from the electrophone,” said Victor. He scanned the room. “Keep your eyes peeled. It could be anyone, and he might be in disguise.”

“But how do you know?” Franklin asked. “You still haven't explained how you deciphered the message.”

“There was no time. We had to get here right away.” Victor set the piece of paper with his notes on the table. “It finally hit me: this is all about the Wright brothers and airplanes. Each one of the cities on the list has an airport, and each airport has a three-letter code.”

Franklin studied the page. “I see! Well done, Victor.”

“I don't get it,” said Scott.

“Put the city codes in a row, one after the other,” Victor explained. “Like this: MID, NIT, EDI, NER, FIV, EAM. Then change the spaces: MIDNITE DINER FIVE AM.”

“Cool!”

“We're still early,” said Franklin. “Shall we order some pancakes?”

Five o'clock, then five thirty came and went, with no contact from the mysterious voice. Franklin and Scott ordered more pancakes. Victor was too edgy to eat.

“I wonder if we're doing this wrong,” he said. “Maybe we're supposed to get up and introduce ourselves.”