The Journal of Curious Letters (The 13th Reality #1)

Have you seen anything like a ghost made out of smoke that turns into a grandpa face? What about a Gnat Rat? That thing put me in the hospital, but I’m OK now. How old are you? I’m thirteen, and I live in Washington, though you already know that because I guess you saw my Pen Pal account.



You’re from Italy? That’s way awesome. I wish we could meet and talk face to face about this stuff. I’m keeping all my notes in a book called Tick Higginbottom’s Journal of Curious Letters. Pretty cool, huh?



Talk to you later,



Tick





He clicked SEND, knowing Sofia probably wouldn’t read the e-mail until tomorrow because it was already past bedtime in Italy. His initial excitement tempered by the thought that he wouldn’t hear back from Sofia for at least a day, he logged off the computer and grabbed his backpack.

On his way out, Ms. Sears reminded him of the book she had held for him and he checked it out just to be nice. With everything going on in his life, reading a new book suddenly seemed dull in comparison. Tick shook his head; he never would’ve thought he’d say that.

The book tucked safely in his backpack next to his journal, Tick exited the library and headed home.

Halfway there, he figured out the answer to the third clue.

~

It came to him when he tripped over a big stick in the middle of the sidewalk. As he rubbed his knee while sitting on the cold ground, he looked at the soles of his shoes, which were caked with chunky black sludge. He wondered where they’d gotten so dirty and had just had the thought that it must’ve been from the mud caused by the melting snow when both of the important phrases from the third clue seemed to solve themselves simultaneously, several words flashing across his mind’s eye in a rush of understanding.

Opposite of wrong but not correct.

Opposite of wrong but not the word correct. The word right!

Soul is stronger than mine.

Sole is stronger than mine.

Sole of his shoe.

Sole of his right shoe.

Not bothering to get up from the sidewalk, Tick whipped out his journal and turned to the page where he’d written the words from the audio tape. He’d misunderstood when M.G. said he hoped Tick’s soul was stronger than his. The real word was sole, not soul, meaning M.G. hoped the sole of his shoe was strong enough to protect his foot, his right foot, as he hit the ground with it ten times.

Tick scribbled his thoughts down then stood up, his blood surging through his veins. Though he still felt so clueless it was ridiculous, he’d taken another small step. On May sixth, Tick needed to say magic words that he didn’t know then stomp the ground with his right foot ten times.

As he ran the rest of the way home, he couldn’t help but marvel at how completely stupid that sounded.

~

Three days passed with no reply from Sofia, and though he’d never met her, Tick felt worried sick that something terrible had happened to her. Or that maybe she’d given up and burned the letter from M.G., surrendering once and for all. Tick could barely think of anything else, losing his focus in school; he actually got a B on a test, shocking his English teacher beyond words. Every morning and night he checked his e-mail at home, and he swung by the library every chance he got.

When an entire week had passed in silence, his heart felt completely ill and he didn’t know what else to do but give up on her.

The Thursday before Christmas vacation started, he walked home from school, his head down, staring at his feet through the falling snow. They’d had a couple of weeks’ break from the white stuff, but it had come back with a fury the night before and hadn’t let up. Tick didn’t complain, of course, he loved the heavy snow. But he couldn’t cheer up, feeling sad about Sofia and the lack of any more clues from his mysterious stranger.

He was just passing the patch of woods where he’d met Mothball when something caught his eye on the other side of the road. A wooden sign had been hastily nailed to a sharpened stick and hammered into the ground. Some words were painted on it in messy blue paint, the letters dripping like blood. He couldn’t tell what most of the sign said from his position, but two of the words stood out like a pair of leprechauns in a hamster cage.

Atticus Higginbottom





Chapter


14




~





Shoes and Mittens


Tick ran over to the sign, squinting his eyes through the swirling snow to read the smaller words underneath his name. His brow crinkled in confusion. He read the sign over again, almost expecting the words to change the second time. Just when he thought he was used to how bizarre his life had become, he received a message that seemed to make no sense.

Atticus Higginbottom



Meet me when night is a backwards dim

Don’t look for a her ’cause I am a him

The steps of your porch will do just fine

But don’t bring snakes, spiders, or swine

For you I have important news