Get Out While You Can: Winning Story

Welcome back to the Quill!

The long awaited results are in! After much deliberation, Katherine Milliken is our winner with her story entitled “Red Rubber Ball”! Congratulations, Katherine!

I hope you enjoy her wonderful story!

Red Rubber Ball

Katherine Milliken, Grade 8

Ellen and Evan Maynor had found that merely walking around one’s neighborhood could either be intensely boring or intensely interesting. Evan, being that sort of person, wrote down every day whether their walk was interesting or not. He finally came to the conclusion that it was arbitrary, as their most interesting walks had occurred when they were miserable, and the most interminable walks had occurred when all sorts of things were happening in the neighborhood. Ellen thought this was an interesting discovery, but she didn’t understand why Evan bothered to figure it out.

The two of them went out to walk one day prepared to be unhappy. A firefly had somehow got into their shared room last night, and as a result it had taken hours for them to fall asleep. The next morning Evan found that his skunk had somehow escaped from its cage, leaving a smell behind that drove everyone crazy, neighbors included – and, as Evan pointed out, you can tell where the day’s going if you’ve had trouble with the neighbors before you’ve even had breakfast.

Ellen found that she had forgotten to take off her glasses overnight, with the result that they were broken. They had been very nice glasses, and she couldn’t see very well through her old pair.

These unfortunate occurrences caused brother and sister both to resign themselves to unconquerable gloom. They both wished that they had schoolwork to do – although, had it been the school year, they would have wished that they hadn’t any – and after breakfast the two sat gloomily on the back deck.

Ellen twirled her straight blond hair around her fingers and began elaborately tying small braids in it. Evan just irritably shook his red mop of curls out of his eyes and frowned. “I’m too tired to think straight,” he said, “and it’s as hot as heck out here.”

“I want to sleep for a hundred years,” said Ellen.

“I want to sleep for a thousand years,” Evan replied.

“But you can’t be as tired as I am,” Ellen protested.

“I’m far tireder than you are. Remember, I woke up earlier.”

“I fell asleep later, though. That wretched bug settled down in my side of the room, of course.”

“I still got less sleep. I was up a full hour before you, and you only fell asleep a few minutes after me.”

“You don’t know that,” said Ellen, warming to her task. “I bet that I fell asleep hours after you did!”

“Can’t you two stop bickering?” said Mrs. Maynor, coming out to water her flowers. “It’s a lovely day. Can’t you go for a walk?”

They agreed without much enthusiasm. Ellen ventured to suggest that she would not be able to see well enough wearing old glasses.

“Evan will make sure you don’t get run over, honey,” Mrs. Maynor said gently, feeling somewhat exasperated with her offspring. “I’ll schedule another appointment for you at the eye doctor’s as soon as I can. You probably need new glasses at this point anyway.”

“We could drive to the library,” Evan suggested, brightening the slightest bit.

“How about you walk to the library?” said Mrs. Maynor.

“But then, if we request anything, we’ll have to carry it back,” said Ellen.

“That won’t hurt you,” said Mrs. Maynor. “You should be grateful that we live near a library. Many people would have to drive. You can bring a bag to carry the books.”

“Okay,” they said in perfect unison. Despite themselves, they had to grin at each other.

So it came about that five minutes later Evan and Ellen were walking together along the sunny streets to the Bangor Public Library. Evan had a bright green Celtics bag – which Ellen felt slightly embarrassed about, as it was an extremely bright shade of green – wadded up underneath his arm. Ellen drew her arm through Evan’s as they crossed a street.

“What’s it like to drive?” Ellen asked curiously, watching a small sports car roar past.

“Pretty cool,” said Evan. “It’s kind of like a game, except if you play it wrong, you could get killed.”

“I’m not in too much of a hurry,” said Ellen. “That doesn’t sound all that fun to me.”

“Don’t worry,” said Evan. “You’re only fourteen, anyway.”

From anyone else Ellen would have resented that, but with Evan, it simply didn’t occur to her to become offended at something as trivial as that. Evan was three years older than she, but they hardly ever thought about this, and dismissed it as unimportant when they did think about it.

Ellen breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped into the library, as it really was very hot outside. Evan immediately went to the apologetics section. Evan was very fond of philosophy, and everyone who knew him thought he was quite an apologist already. Ellen was very bad at thinking logically, and preferred fiction or books concerning violins. She had started to play the violin several years ago and was improving rapidly, but was still eager to find more information about them.

After about fifteen minutes Ellen drifted over to the adult fiction, holding An Encyclopedia of the Violin. She skimmed the titles carelessly until she came to Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens. Her eyes lit up. She had always wanted to read it.

Carrying her finds, she went to sit near Evan, who was absorbed in The Principles of Metaphysical and Ethical Science Applied to the Evidences of Religion. Ellen opened Our Mutual Friend and was immediately drawn in from the first sentence:

In these times of ours, though concerning the exact year there is no need to

be precise, a boat of dirty and disreputable appearance, with two figures in

it, floated on the Thames between Southwark Bridge, which is of iron, and

London Bridge, which is of stone, as an autumn evening was closing in.

As Ellen grew unaware of the world around her in her interest in the world that was on

the page in front of her, Evan stared in complete bewilderment at a slip of paper that had fallen out of his book. Both were quite startled when the upbeat intro to the Seekers’ “Red Rubber Ball” broke the usual quiet of the library. Evan seemed completely shocked, and stared blankly at the paper he was holding for a few moments. Ellen nudged him. Didn’t he remember that that was the ringtone for his phone?

Evan suddenly realized that it was his own tracfone that was making the music, and he sheepishly fumbled in his pocket for it while glancing anxiously about him,

mentally berating himself for forgetting to silence it before entering the library. As luck would have it, he dropped it after fishing it out of his pocket. He and Ellen both reached to pick it up at the same time and banged their heads together. When, red with embarrassment, Evan finally answered the call and cut off the song, the first verse was almost over.

Looking about as she massaged her injured head, Ellen saw a middle-aged woman nearby who glanced at them and was obviously trying very hard to smother an amused smile. Ellen thought things of that woman that ought not to be uttered. How dare she laugh at them!

Ellen then turned her attention to Evan’s phone conversation. “Sure, Mom,” he said first, then, “All right, Ellen and I will come back right now. Goodbye.” He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket, trying to keep a low profile lest anyone was still looking at them. “Mom wants us to come home now,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

Ellen nodded, and they slunk away to check out their books. Neither of them noticed the tall, heavy-set man who was watching Evan intently.

“How’s your book?” asked Ellen as they waited in line with their books, nodding to The Principles of Metaphysical and Ethical Science Applied to the Evidences of Religion.

“Haven’t read enough yet to say,” said Evan. “I’m still in the preface. You know, the funny thing is, Ellen -” but before he could finish the man in front of them left and they were called over to check out their books.

Ellen was surprised at how much better she felt, walking home, than she had walking to the library. The only thing that bothered her was that Celtics bag, which Evan was swinging about quite unconcernedly. In fact, Evan seemed a little preoccupied, and he tried to interrupt Ellen twice while she was relating an amusing story. About halfway through he became interested in spite of himself, however, and evidently forgot what he had been going to say.

“How was your walk?” asked Mrs. Maynor as they stepped into the house.

“Good,” said Ellen. “See, we got several books.” Ellen displayed their books.

“So, why did you call us home?” asked Evan.

“Ah, yes,” said Mrs. Maynor, smiling. “Mrs. Davids came over after you left. She had a gift card to a diner that she said she would never go to, so she decided to give it to us. Why don’t you two head over there tonight?”

Evan and Ellen exchanged excited looks. They never got to eat out. “Can’t you come too?” said Evan.

“I really wish I could, darlings,” said Mrs. Maynor, looking distressed, “but I have business to attend to tonight, and I wanted you to have a good time while I was away.”

“What sort of business could you have?” asked Ellen.

“I’m looking into buying a new house,” said Mrs. Maynor. “How would you like that?”

Ellen and Evan turned to look at each other, slightly shocked. “What’s wrong with this house?” ventured Ellen.

“The yard’s pretty small,” said Evan. Ellen glared at him and turned to their mother.

“Well, Evan’s right, and that’s part of it,” said Mrs. Maynor. “This is a very small house, and a small piece of property. Besides that, I really don’t like the location. I haven’t liked this neighborhood ever since we moved in.”

“I wouldn’t mind moving,” said Evan.

“I don’t know,” said Ellen slowly. “Do we have to leave Bangor?”

“No,” said Mrs. Maynor. “I’m not looking to leave Bangor. I’ll consult you before I make any decisions.”

“Okay,” said Ellen and Evan together. They had perfected the art of saying it in unison a long time ago.

“Let’s go play music together,” said Ellen, pulling at Evan’s arm. Evan complied and let himself be pulled away. They liked to do duets with Evan on the piano and Ellen on the violin. Although music was not his favorite hobby, Evan was fairly good at the piano, and enjoyed playing their duets.

It was mid afternoon when they finally stopped playing music. They realized then that they had forgotten about lunch. They quickly remedied this, and spent over an hour afterwards sitting at the table arguing over the particulars of the geography of a place Evan had made up called Adripodle. They did both agree on the name, but Ellen thought the capital city should be right in the middle, and Evan thought it should be near the northern border. Ellen was glad that Evan was not the sort to consider such an argument childish. Both had been taught that it was stupid to dismiss anything as childish without considering the real merits of the activity – and this was pretty important, Ellen thought. How could the Adripodleans function without a capital?

They were in the middle of a very heated argument about the positioning of the underground safety shelters when Mrs. Maynor came into the kitchen. “For goodness’ sake, can’t you two stop that?” she said.

“But, Mom,” said Ellen, “he thinks that there should be a big network of them! The whole country will collapse if I let him do it.”

“But, Mom,” said Evan, “she wants to have such a piddling amount! Only half the population will fit and there’ll be a huge catastrophe if I let her do it.”

Mrs. Maynor couldn’t help but smile as she saw how sincerely earnest the two were. “Do you have to decide right now? It’s really nice outside.”

So Evan and Ellen went outside and promptly fell into arguing all over again while they walked around aimlessly, and they considered the afternoon well spent.

They did not notice that the same man who had watched as they left the library was looking at them out of the window of a house across the street.

***

“Have a good time,” called Mrs. Maynor as Evan drove off with Ellen in their little convertible that evening. She left in the less exciting car to go house-hunting a few minutes after.

Ellen brushed her hair out of her face for the dozenth time. She loved riding in the convertible, but it did make one’s hair rather messy. Even Evan found his hair a little troublesome, but, obviously, he couldn’t push it back, since he was driving. The diner was nearly half an hour away, and it was well past six when they got there. Ellen took a comb out of her purse as Evan put up the roof. “You’re not leaving this car until you comb your hair,” said Ellen firmly, quickly combing her own.

“I don’t carry combs in my pockets,” said Evan. “Anyway, who’s going to notice or care?”

“It’s not decent,” said Ellen, handing him her comb. “You look like you just got out of bed.”

“Who would wake up at six o’clock at night, anyway?” demanded Evan.

“That’s just the point!” said Ellen triumphantly. “It looks weird.” Evan finally acquiesced and carelessly ran the comb through his hair a couple times before handing it back.

Once in the restaurant, Ellen found that she had a hard time selecting something to eat. It was easier to just look about her.

“Remember when your phone went off in the library?” whispered Ellen as they looked at the menus. She grinned. “I have to admit I felt pretty embarrassed.”

“Oh!” said Evan. He felt in his pocket. “I was about to show you something when the phone rang. That was why I was so startled – or, rather, the song itself startled me.”

“I’m confused,” said Ellen, somewhat understandably. “You set that as your ringtone yourself.”

“I know,” said Evan. “Here, I’ll show it to you, and then you’ll understand.” He pulled a small, light green piece of paper out of his pocket that read like this:

The song “Red Rubber Ball” was co-written by Paul Simon and Bruce Woodley. It was first recorded in 1966.

“Where did you get this?” said Ellen, frowning in puzzlement.

“It was in The Principles of Metaphysical and Ethical Science Applied to the Evidences of Religion,” said Evan.

“Wait a minute,” said Ellen. “Do you mean to say that you found this in the morning and you didn’t tell me about it until now?”

“I was going to,” said Evan. “I didn’t get a chance in the library, and then you were telling that story outside, and I forgot. I didn’t think of it again until now.”

Just then their waiter returned to see what they had ordered. He glanced down at the slip of paper in Evan’s hand, and then away to another table. Ellen almost thought the old man’s face looked anxious. He picked up the salt shaker, which had fallen down, and in pulling his hand back he knocked over a glass of water onto Evan’s napkin. “I’m very sorry,” he said. “I’ll get you a new one. Perhaps you will have made your choices by then.”

The waiter left, and Evan shoved the paper back in his pocket while he and Ellen looked at the menu again and made their decisions. By the time the waiter came back, they were ready, and he gave Evan the new napkin, took their orders, and again left. Ellen leaned back on the cushioned seat happily.

“Ellen!” Evan suddenly said, in a tense whisper.

Ellen looked up, startled. “What is it?”

Evan help up a folded note. “This was in my napkin,” he said. Ellen leaned over to look at it as he slowly unfolded it. Written on it in an untidy scrawl were the words: “Get out while you still can.”

Ellen gasped and grabbed his arm. “What could this mean, Evan?”

“I don’t know,” said Evan, carefully looking at each occupied table in turn. “Ellen,” he whispered, “that man over there keeps looking at us.”

Ellen glanced at the man. He was tall and heavily built, and his face had a bored expression. His eyes were intensely bright, however, and his gaze kept turning to Ellen and Evan’s table, then quickly turning away to the bottle of ketchup on his own table.

“I think we’d better leave, Evan,” said Ellen, the hand that clutched Evan’s sleeve shaking.

“We can’t just leave,” said Evan. “We ordered food. We’d be stealing if we left without paying for it.”

“But, Evan!” Ellen was almost hysterical. “I’m scared!”

“Don’t worry,” said Evan. “As soon as we get the food, we’ll pay with the gift card, and then we’ll leave. You did bring it, right?”

“Bring what?”

“The gift card.”

Ellen felt in her purse. Her eyes slowly got bigger as she didn’t feel it anywhere.

“Oh, no!” Ellen groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Evan, I forgot it!”

“Well, how much money do you have with you?” asked Evan practically, pulling out his wallet.

“About ten dollars,” said Ellen, sniffing and trying hard not to cry.

“And I have about fifteen,” said Evan, counting the bills and then putting his wallet back into his pocket. “That should be enough if there isn’t a required tip. Luckily, we didn’t order very much.”

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the table. They looked up and saw the tall, heavily built man who had been watching them from his table, and, although they did not know it, had been following them ever since Evan phone had gone off in the library. He slid into the bench across from them.

“I believe you wanted to talk to me,” he said in a low voice.

“No, actually, we didn’t,” said Evan. Ellen was too scared to talk.

“Really?” said the man. “You have been trying very hard to get my attention.”

“I’m sorry, then,” said Evan. “We didn’t know, if we were.”

“I find that hard to believe,” said the man. “What was I to expect, when your phone just happened to play that song?” It was hard to tell whether he was speaking to both of them or just to Evan, but Evan still answered for both of them.

“If that song had any significance for you, we didn’t know it,” he said. “In the meantime, we don’t know you, and you don’t know us, so -”

The waiter returned at that moment, but he didn’t have any food. He immediately went over to Evan and whispered in his ear, “Never mind paying for it! I’ll pay myself. Just get out of here.”

“You get out of here, old man,” said the man. “I’m talking to this young fellow here, and you’re interrupting.”

The waiter looked at the man squarely. “My son owns this restaurant, sir. I feel responsible for the safety of the customers, and, though it may seem rude, I do not trust you, Mr. Jones.”

“You have no right to interfere,” said the man. “I’m not a criminal. There’s nothing wrong with having a conversation with a couple kids.”

“Neither is there anything wrong in me advising them to leave,” said the waiter.

A voice called, “Andy! You’re needed.” The waiter turned and left, glancing back, troubled, as he went.

“Now, as I had been saying,” continued the man. Evan stood up, and Ellen quickly did so as well.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the man demanded.

“We’re leaving,” said Evan. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. – Jones, was it?”

“Jeremiah Jones is my name,” he said, “and yours is Evan Maynor, I know. Look here, you must give me that piece of paper. I can’t let you leave until I have it.”

Evan sat down again. Ellen did too, but tugged his sleeve and hissed in his ear, “Evan, what are you doing? We have to get out of here!”

“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” Evan responded. “If that waiter were still here, it would be different. He’s not, though – and we’re just kids. Do you really think it would be safe to just walk out on him?”

“What could he do to stop us?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know.”

“Yes, and what about your sister?” said Mr. Jones, who had been watching them with a slightly amused smile on his face. “Perhaps she can’t talk? She has yet to say anything to me.”

“Of course I can talk,” Ellen said indignantly.

“Good. I was a little worried.” His look grew more intense. “Give me the paper, and you can leave.”

“Does it belong to you?” asked Evan.

“Not exactly,” he said carefully.

“Why do you want it, anyway?” Ellen couldn’t help but ask. “If you’re that familiar with the song, you probably already know the information.”

“I don’t know what it says,” he said. Evidently his patience was dwindling. “Look, this is pointless. Just give it to me.”

Evan reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper, then slowly handed it over. Mr. Jones grabbed it eagerly. “Good, good,” he said, shoving it into his pocket. “I would like to know one more thing before you go.” He looked Evan in the eye. “How did you just so happen to pick that song, when you claim you weren’t trying to get my attention?”

“I don’t know,” said Evan. “It must be a coincidence. I like the Seekers, that’s all.”

“You’re sure that you’re not in league with the Red Rubber Ball Society?” he asked coolly.

Ellen thought he was joking, but Evan appeared to take it seriously. “No, I’m not,” he said.

The waiter returned and stood by them. “You may leave now, Mr. Jones,” he said.

“I’ll leave when I’m ready,” said Mr. Jones.

“You’ll leave now,” said the waiter.

Mr. Jones was about to argue the point, but seemed to decide against it. He got up and left, a smile on his face.

“What was all that about?” asked Ellen, somewhat shaken.

The waiter sat down across from them. He appeared almost cheerful now that Mr. Jones had left. “Well, he’s been nicely fooled,” he said in a satisfied voice.

“Would you mind explaining for us, Mr. -?” said Evan.

“Bates,” he said. “I suppose you have a right to know. First off, do you know about the Red Rubber Ball Society?”

“I don’t,” said Ellen. “There really is such a thing?”

“Yes. Their headquarters is here in Bangor, I believe,” said Evan. “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really know what they do.”

“Few people do,” said Mr. Bates. “You see, their main method of communication is through library books.”

“And did I happen to choose a book that they had been communicating through?” said Evan.

“Yes,” said Mr. Bates, smiling. “Now, we know that Mr. Jones has been trying to intercept our messages. When he heard your phone going off in the library, he assumed that either you wanted to get his attention, or you were a member of the Red Rubber Ball Society yourself.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ellen. “Where did he come from? Why was he trying to intercept the messages?”

“Have you heard of the Bus Stop Society?”he asked.

Evan and Ellen looked at each other and shook their heads.

“It works against the Red Rubber Ball Society,” he explained. “Jeremiah Jones was sent from them.”

“Why are the societies named after 60’s songs?” asked Evan.

“Probably mainly because the founders of the societies are fond of certain kinds of 60’s music. You might find out if you ever join the Red Rubber Ball Society – or if you join the Bus Stop Society, for that matter, although I would highly recommend you don’t.

“We are getting off topic, however. After Jeremiah heard the song on your phone and saw you holding a light green piece of paper, he naturally assumed that you had a message from the Red Rubber Ball Society. He tracked you both here, where he obtained it and left thinking that he had gotten a great prize.” Mr. Bates chuckled softly. “That’s where he was mistaken. The Red Rubber Ball Society knew that he was here and trying to intercept messages. He can try as hard as he likes to break the code in that message, but he can’t, because there isn’t any code. We’re not sending any real messages through our system until he leaves.”

“So it was just a sham?” said Evan, his eyes twinkling.

“It was just a sham,” said Mr. Bates.

“Then why did you warn us to leave?” asked Ellen.

Mr. Bates’ face grew more solemn. “I was thinking of your safety,” he said. “Jeremiah Jones is a dangerous person. I came back as soon as I could after I was called away.”

“Do you have the time to talk to us now?” said Ellen anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” said Mr. Bates, “I just finished my shift.” Suddenly he slapped his forehead. “I never did get you your food, did I?”

“That’s okay,” said Evan. “I don’t really feel like eating anymore anyway. How about you, Ellen?”

“Me neither,” said Ellen. “Mr. Bates, what do the Red Rubber Ball Society and the Bus Stop Society do?”

“Well, I mustn’t give away confidential information,” said Mr. Bates, “but I can tell you that the Red Rubber Ball Society is dedicated to help humanity progress in healthy and wholesome ways. Many of our various experiments and findings have greatly benefited the nation, and some the whole world. The Bus Stop Society was founded by band of criminals who had been released from jail unreformed, and it is dedicated to thwart the Red Rubber Ball Society. Originally, this was because the founder of the Bus Stop Society had a personal grudge against the founder of the Red Rubber Ball Society. Unsavory characters like Jeremiah Jones are attracted to it because of the money involved.”

“And you are the president and founder of the Red Rubber Ball Society, right?” said Evan.

Mr. Bates smiled. “Well, yes, I am. I’m considering handing over my presidency to my son, however.” He leaned forward. “Why don’t you join us, Evan? You’re just the kind of person we’re looking for.” He turned to Ellen. “We’d be glad to have you too in a couple years.”

“I’ll seriously consider it,” said Evan. “It depends on what my mother thinks, mostly.”

“Of course,” Mr. Bates assented.

“In the meantime,” said Evan, glancing at his watch, “I believe it’s time to go. We’re very glad to meet you.”

“Yes,” said Ellen, “and thank you for clearing things up for us.”

“That’s my job,” said Mr. Bates with a laugh. His keen blue eyes twinkled in his old, rugged face. “You get on home before your mother worries about you.”

The two got up and left the fast emptying restaurant. They were silent until the car was on the road again. Evan kept the roof down to make conversation possible.

“Well,” said Ellen.

“Well?” said Evan.

“I’m glad you were there, Evan.”

Evan only smiled and risked taking his right hand off the steering wheel long enough to pat her arm.