The Boy Who Knew Everything (12 page)

“As many of you are aware, there has been a disaster of tragic proportions that has befallen the town of Shady Grove.” President Harrington spoke with authority but allowed himself a meaningful break, as though his sadness required a moment of quiet.

“Like you, I mourn the loss of life that our fellow Americans in Shady Grove have had to endure. And like you, I have many questions.” Harrington's features now turned from concerned to angry, but not too angry. “How could such a tragedy occur in this day and age and remain unnoticed for so long? Who among us is responsible? As your president I demanded answers to these questions, and as your president I wish to share with you what I now know to be true.”

Harrington looked sternly into the camera. His message was carefully crafted to address all Americans, but the truth was that Harrington was only speaking to one: his son. There was no doubt in Harrington's mind that Conrad was staring into his own eyes at that very moment, albeit separated by a television screen. Harrington imagined that he could see Conrad looking back at him, and the thought of his son made his blood rage. A painful headache immediately broke out in the back of his head and he could feel it knocking wildly against his skull.

Hadn't he warned Conrad that things happen for a reason and not to interfere? Hadn't he told him to stop his infernal thinking? And now this.…

“We currently have verified and credible information on a group of approximately eleven individuals who played a significant role in this disaster. We have reason to believe that these individuals are very dangerous and that they do not have the best interests of our country at heart. Based on the lives lost to innocent families in Shady Grove we now know that they will stop at nothing. For the safety of our country and the well-being of our citizens we will use all the resources at our disposal to find these individuals and bring them to justice.”

President Harrington dropped his chin a quarter of an inch because he knew it gave his jaw a stronger, firmer line, and brought his index finger forward.

“I hereby declare them public enemy number one.”

 

CHAPTER

17

If there could have been a worse day for the Lowland County Fall Festival, Conrad and Piper would have been hard pressed to think of one. Shaken by the presidential press conference, they felt like doing anything but celebrating the harvest or pretending that everything was hunky-dory. Conrad calmly insisted that the best way to deal with the situation was a “business as usual” approach. He'd given the rest of the kids the day off for much-needed rest and relaxation, while it was necessary for Piper and him to attend the Fall Festival with Betty and Joe, just as the McClouds had attended every year for generations without interruption.

The Fall Festival in Lowland County was not only a celebration of the harvest but a chance for those in the community to recognize the best among them. The long hours and backbreaking work of farming were for the most part wholly unrecognized, but once a year Lowland County let loose and put all to rights in one overwhelming burst of prize-giving at the Fall Festival. One and all, both young and old, were greedy for blue ribbons.

While a flimsy bit of blue ribbon might seem to be a small acknowledgment, it made a difference to the winners, and every category was hotly contested. Techniques and recipes, like vegetable growing or cattle raising, were passed down and perfected through generations. To have the best raspberry preserves or milking cow reflected not only on your ability but on your family as a whole. It spoke of the work of generations and it honored not only a particular farmer but their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, at the very least.

Most folks in Lowland County spent hot summer days mentally preparing their strategies to win the Fall Festival prize, and often secretly worked into the night as the days grew shorter and cooler.

It seemed as though there was a category for everything imaginable: best pig, best cow, fastest horse, best apple pie, largest pumpkin, jams and jellies of every variety, picklings, butter, and butter sculpting. There was a plowing competition, a tug-of-war, a milking competition, a fiddle-off, a square dance–off; and quilting, crocheting, and knitting displays, with a blue ribbon fixed on those deemed superior. For the small fries of Lowland County, besides the apple bobbing, three-legged races, and greased-pig run, there was an essay contest and a science competition.

As the sun reached the middle of the sky on the last Saturday of October, every last soul of Lowland County could be found gathered around the old water tower next to the mill, where long tents were erected for displays and the large mill doors were opened so that its floor could be turned into a stage.

By the time the McClouds arrived and Conrad and Piper had settled into seats next to Betty and Joe, the talent competition was in full swing.

“I believe I can fly,” sang Sally Sue Miller, “I believe I can touch the sky…”

The sound of Sally Sue's singing voice called to mind the tones of a cat in heat. Sally Sue's large cheering section consisted of everyone, as long as their last name was Miller, and was boisterous, but none was quite so loud as her mother, Millie Mae.

“Sally Sue has the voice of an angel,” Millie Mae said loudly, temporarily drowning out Sally Sue mid-squall. This unbiased appraisal was quickly followed by another equally loud remark. “She's got a voice so beautiful she'd make a stone cry.”

“Yeah, cry out in pain.” Piper snorted.

Conrad gave her a quick elbow in the ribs. “Shhhh.”

“It's the truth,” Piper quibbled.

Conrad gave her the eye and Piper slouched back into her seat.

When Sally Sue completed her song the Millers clapped wildly and endlessly. Sally Sue took bow after bow.

The minister's wife was sitting in front of Piper and Conrad and noticed Piper's dour face. “Piper, ain't we gonna see you perform in the talent competition?”

Piper shot a glance at Conrad and then shook her head. “No, ma'am, I didn't sign up.”

She smiled encouragingly. “Ah, now, you must have something special that you do. The good Lord doesn't leave anyone out when he hands out talents. I'd like to see what you got.”

“Is that so?” Despite everything, the minister's wife spoke to the place in Piper that yearned to stop hiding, and she couldn't stop herself from imagining a talent competition that would include her flying. Conrad's elbow in her side jolted Piper back to reality.

“Thank ya, ma'am, but I'm not … I mean I don't have a talent.”

“You just keep at it and you'll find it. Next year I'll be looking for you. Y'hear?”

Piper smiled and nodded.

“And that goes double for you, Conrad!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Conrad said earnestly, as though he was seriously considering the matter.

When the Straighern boys started up a rousing fiddle-and-banjo number, Conrad's DBI clicked on and alerted his brain of an emergency, and he was quick to pull out his glasses to see what was going on.

“What's the matter now?” Piper saw Conrad's special glasses perched on his nose and recognized the intense concentrated look on his face, both telltale signs that he was in the middle of something important.

“There's been activity. Unusual activity. And…” Conrad's forehead knit itself into knots. “Ahmed and Nalen have gone missing.”

“What?”
Piper's eyes went wide.

“Shhh,” Conrad hissed.

“Missing how? Where?” Piper whispered back urgently.

“I don't know yet. Myrtle said that they went out to the Grand Canyon to have some fun. She was supposed to meet them, but when she arrived all she could find was one of their boots. Smitty is on his way to investigate.” Thanks to the wonder of his device, Conrad dashed out text messages and sent them to Kimber and Smitty without anyone else being aware he was doing anything other than enjoying the music.

“This is just what J. said was going to happen. It could be a ploy to distract us,” Piper pointed out.

“Distract us from what?”

“From whatever it is your father is planning to do to us—unless, of course, his plan is to snatch us up one by one. You heard what he said at that press conference!”

As Piper considered this, Conrad sent out messages to all the members of the team. When the music abruptly ended they had to participate in loud rounds of enthusiastic applause.

“Well, hi there, Conrad.” Amy Anne Halloway smiled breathlessly as she inserted herself on the bench next to him. She wore a soft pink dress that was tightly fitted, and she was often described by Millie Mae, with a strong sniff and a knowing eye, as being an “early bloomer.”

Conrad distractedly angled his glasses. “Hi, Amy Anne.”

Over the last several months things had changed a lot at the Lowland County Schoolhouse. Conrad had transformed from a sickly target for bullies into a strong young man lit from within by the unmistakable aura of ascendancy. This change had not gone unnoticed, definitely not by Rory Ray Miller, who somehow instinctively knew not to try his luck on another mud-racking episode, or by another unexpected classmate: Amy Anne Halloway. For reasons that remained unfathomable to both Piper and Conrad, Amy Anne often flitted about Conrad, giggling uncontrollably in the strangest manner. For the most part they dealt with this uncomfortable and peculiar circumstance by walking away whenever possible. Of course, in situations where Amy Anne shoehorned herself in and refused to be ignored, there was little to do but grin and bear it.

“That sure was some nice fiddling.” Amy Anne smiled in such a way that she was able to show every single one of her teeth. If Piper hadn't been so irritated that their conversation had been interrupted she actually would have been impressed by Amy Anne's smiling skill.

“Nothing that they haven't played a hundred times before.” Piper cut her off quickly, hoping that she'd get the message. She wanted to hear more about Ahmed and Nalen.

“My ma says they're the best in four counties.” Amy Anne shared this information in such a way that meant Conrad should appreciate how vital it was and how fortunate he should consider himself for now knowing it.

“I see,” was all Conrad could manage as he darted quick looks from Amy Anne to the messages being projected onto his glasses. Smitty was already at the scene and was texting him information on the disappearance.

“I told my ma that you're almost the smartest boy in the class,” Amy Anne continued.

Piper snorted in a decidedly unladylike way. “Almost? Who's smarter than Conrad?”

“Rory Ray did win that last science quiz.” Amy Anne didn't take her eyes from Conrad.

“Rory Ray didn't win.” Piper rolled her eyes. “Conrad wasn't in class that day.”

“Rory Ray says that he woulda won anyhow.” Amy Anne smiled. “'Course, I ain't sure that's true.”

Piper snorted.
Is this girl an idiot?

“Rory Ray is very smart, Amy Anne. You're quite right,” Conrad said, nodding. “You know, I think that Rory Ray might like you.”

Amy Anne giggled hysterically and slapped her knee, thrilled that Conrad had noticed such a detail. “He done tells me so all the time,” she said, grinning.

Conrad texted and, oblivious to the multiple conversations he was conducting with various points about the globe, Amy Anne glowed, confident of Conrad's undivided attention.

“Of course, Rory Ray's gonna get the twenty acres of land his father promised him,” Amy Anne said wistfully. “But I told him that I won't have any old dumb boy.” Amy Anne's logic was somehow lost on Piper. Perhaps the fact that Amy Anne's father's mathematical abilities were severely challenged by the most rudimentary sums, and that all of Lowland County knew he was regularly cheated by his hired hands and scorned by his wife, played a role in Amy Anne's sudden interest in the intellectual capabilities of any future mates—a subject she had lately taken a lot of time to ponder and felt the need to be proactive about.

Smitty texted Conrad:
No traces. No clues. They've vanished!

Conrad quietly and discreetly whispered the news to Piper, who let out a gasp.

Amy Anne leaned toward Conrad. “I'm bettin' you're a wee bit smarter than Rory Ray.” She smiled winningly and gently laughed.

“Amy Anne!” a loud voice called gruffly from the end of the benches. Rory Ray stood glaring at Conrad and Piper.

“Well, I guess I'll see what he wants,” said Amy Anne, as though it was her duty and a bit of an imposition besides. Of course, the twinkle in her eyes said it was anything but, and she rushed to Rory Ray like the wind, giggling wildly and loudly the entire way.

The science competition was announced and everyone scattered; Betty wanted to make sure her apple pie was properly displayed before judging started, and Joe went to check on the tractor pull. Conrad and Piper ended up getting separated, and by the time Conrad made his way to the water tower, where the tables were set up for the judging of the science competition, the crowd was already tightly gathered and the judging was half over. Conrad took a moment to look at the potato fertilizer experiment before moving on to Rory Ray's science project, which sat in the middle and dominated the rest of the projects for its sheer size and flash quality. Rory Ray had trapped a barn owl in a large cage. At the bottom of the cage he had placed six plump field mice. By removing the screens that protected the mice from the owl Rory Ray demonstrated how the owl would quickly swoop down and gobble up the mice one by one. According to Rory Ray, his experiment unequivocally proved that owls do not tire of their staple diet, namely mice.

In actuality, of course, the project proved precisely nothing, but the shock value was fantastic. The poor owl, having been starved for several days, quickly ravaged each presented mouse. Young girls squealed and women covered their eyes to keep from seeing the cute little mice live their last. None carried on as loudly as Amy Anne, who was delighted to show that her delicate sensibilities were quite overcome by such a gruesome demonstration. This, in turn, pleased no one quite so much as Rory Ray, who not only had successfully and very publicly demonstrated his superior scientific smarts, but now had the opportunity to step forward and settle Amy Anne's feminine hysteria. Truly, it was his bumper day.