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copyright
© 1999, 2000,2001 Andrew V. Smith. All Rights
Reserved
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| 3
The Books, continued |
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“You lied to me. You told me your middle name was Melissa, like your Aunt.”
Except for the soft patter of rain on the roof and window, there were no
other sounds for a minute or two.
“Well it’s not a cool name. I hate it.” “Hmmm . . .April . . .Maeve. Sounds like April, May,” Sandy said. “June . . . July,” April continued. Both girls laughed. “Are you girls doing your homework, or are you fooling around?” Sandy’s mom yelled up the stairway. “All done Mom. Just hanging out,” Sandy yelled back. “OK . . . but remember, it’s a school night. You girls wrap it up at a decent hour,” Sandy’s mom said. “Mom’s can be so clueless sometimes,” Sandy said. “Yea, totally. My Mom’s got this school night curfew thing. By the way, your poem mentioned ‘a friend of crushed stone’. What’s that?” Sandy bit her lower lip and scrunched up her brow. “Hmm . . .” is all she could say. April concentrated too until a sly smile spread across her lips. “Friend of crushed stone . . . Sandy . . . Sandy beach,” April taunted. The girls laughed again. “Hey, there’s a lot more poetry in this book.” April turned the page. Sandy slid over to take a look. The pages were all hand written with a fountain pen, not a ballpoint. The script had a much more refined look with the fountain pen ink. “This poem’s really odd,” Sandy said. “It calls itself a riddle.” She stared at the entry. When she noticed that April was craning her neck, trying to see, Sandy decided to read it aloud.
This is a Riddle
Your mission is New
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