Now You See Me ... by Jane B. Mason

Author:Jane B. Mason [Mason, Jane B. and Stephens, Sarah Hines]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-545-41491-3
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2010-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Abby printed out the two articles, and the girls hurried out of the microfilm room.

“Thank you so much,” Lena said as they passed the information desk.

The librarian checked his watch. “You ladies work fast,” he replied, setting his stack of books aside. He escorted them to the front door, and after a couple of clicks and turns, released them back into the September morning.

“Enjoy your jam,” Abby said with a wave as Lena began to unlock the bikes.

“I most definitely will.” He chuckled to himself and closed the door.

“I think you’ve broken the ice with Captain Whiskers,” Abby said as she grabbed the handlebars of her bike and wheeled it off the rack.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Lena called from up ahead. She was out of breath from pumping so hard, but her body seemed to be on autopilot. They had to get to the gallery!

“What did you put in your cereal, girl?” Abby panted as they raced up Main Street.

“Milk!” Lena replied over her shoulder with a nervous laugh.

The girls skidded to a halt in front of the Barloga Gallery and parked their bikes. Before Abby could even get the lock out of her bag, Lena was pulling open the door.

“You go ahead — I’ll lock up,” Abby offered sarcastically to her friend’s disappearing back.

Inside it was quiet, so quiet that Lena was sure anyone in the gallery could have heard her thudding heart. But the place was empty — even the gallery owner was nowhere in sight.

Abby caught up, out of breath, and the two hurried to the wall of photos at the back of the room.

“Robbie Henson,” Lena confirmed, reading the little plaque below the photographs. She was right — it was the same boy!

“Interesting kid,” a voice said from behind.

Both girls jumped.

Abby found her voice first. “You knew him?” she asked, looking up at the tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man they’d seen the day before.

“I did indeed. In fact, I’d say I knew both of them.”

“Both?” There were two?

“Don’t look so startled,” Mr. Barloga said to Lena with a gentle smile. “I can explain. You see, as the owner of this gallery, I always judge the contest myself. I do it blind, which means that I never look at the names of the photographers while choosing the winner, for fear it might influence my decision. I certainly never intended to pick the same photographer two years in a row. When Robbie came into the gallery after winning the second year, I was shocked — for two reasons. The first was that I had chosen the same boy twice. The second was that he didn’t even seem like the same boy. In one year he’d changed dramatically.”

“He’s dramatic, all right,” Lena said darkly.

“Changed, like how?” Abby wanted to know.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Mr. Barloga pulled out an album filled with newspaper clippings and photographs, all seeming to have to do with the yearly photo contest. In the 1996 clipping, Robbie was standing with his parents next to his prize-winning photo, the one with the three pairs of feet dangling off a dock.

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