Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13 Dan wondered how Shaka Zulu would handle a ride in a busted Yugo with two females arguing over hotel accommodations. "You're the one who worries about money," Amy said. "A tent is perfect. We'd use it every day." "I need a mirror, clean sheets, and those little paper-wrapped soaps," Nellie said. "I collect them. If you use them at home they remind you of where you've been—" "This search is not about comfort," Amy said. "You're being like the Kabras and Alistair— pampered and fussy. First it's the secrets, and now it's—" "Excuse me, Little Miss Anger Management," Nellie interrupted. "What's happened to you?"

"OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!" Dan announced. "Cram it, Shaka," Amy said dully. But Dan ignored her. A brave warrior never took the bait. He was fighting to focus on the Shaka postcard, now wrinkled and sweat-soaked after their adventure. He stared at the last lines: "This doesn't look right," he said. "Lots of African words have odd pronunciations," Amy began lecturing. "Like, you make a clicking sound while saying it, like the Xhosa tribe." The way Amy said the word, it was like a tongue-click followed by-osa. "Right, but those words have, like, Xs and exclamation points in the middle and stuff," Dan said. "These are different. They don't look African. They just look… weird." "If it's not African weird, maybe it's Dutch weird," Nellie said. "They use lots of double

letters. My aunt married a guy named Vanderdoonk." Amy was peering at the names closely. "The brothers Gekk? I told you, those are the limo drivers. This is a business card for a taxi service." "What about the stuff under the name?" Dan asked." 'Alpha more than one,'" Amy said. "Alpha means 'A'— like, the best. They're bragging. Advertising." Dan began to write. He scribbled the alphabet across the top of the card. "I'm thinking it's a code. 'Alpha' means 'alphabet.' 'More than one' is actually an arrow pointing to the right. It could mean 'substitute each letter with the one to the right'— like, B becomes C." "You actually think like that?" Nellie asked. Dan began replacing the letters one by one. "Like I said, it was a dumb idea," Dan said. "Whoa, wait," Amy said. "What if instead of a simple substitution code you, like, replace each

consonant with the next consonant, and each vowel with the next vowel? Like, B becomes C but I becomes O?" "You, too?" Nellie said. Dan began writing again: "Bingo!" Amy exclaimed. She leafed through pamphlets she had stashed in the glove compartment. "Constitution Hill… it's a region in Johannesburg. The site of an old jail. Number Four must be an address." "Johannesburg?" Nellie said. "I thought we were marching to Pretoria!" "Don't forget the other Gekk name," Dan said. Quickly, he decoded it, using Amy's method:" 'Church Hill'— find that!" Dan said. Amy shook her head. "Nope. No such place. We'll need to get a better map. But at least we have a start. Okay, Nellie, we have to go back in the direction of the airport, toward Johannesburg!"

"What if Church Hill is the thing that's in Pretoria?" Dan said. "I mean, we're here already!" Nellie slammed on the brakes and glided into a turnoff at the edge of the road. "Whoa, whoa, guys. I've been stunt-driving in a Yugo, running from Holts, dissing old men, and barely avoiding death by goat. I'm, like, ready to drop. I will take you wherever you want, but I want to finish what I started with Amy—and I get to pick where we stay, okay? I say, hotel. And I say, book it now or we sleep in the car." She reached into her pocket. "Do either one of you guys have my cell phone?" "Nope," Amy and Dan said at the same time. Nellie looked on the floor, then in the glove compartment. "Weird. I had it back on that field." "The Holts are probably kicking it through the goal post," Dan said. "Uh, dude," Nellie said. "This is no joke. I have to have that phone." "The phone company has your stuff saved online," Dan said, "with all your boyfriends' numbers—" "Not funny," Nellie said. "You don't get it! I

need that phone!" Dan gave Amy a look. This was not Normal Nellie. "Now who's got a problem with anger management?" Amy said quietly. Nellie took a deep breath and hung her head over the steering wheel. "Okay. Sorry. I'm losing my head. May I use your phone, Amy?" Amy handed over her phone. As Nellie made her call, Dan pulled out his and quickly accessed his e-mail account. He stared at the most recent message: we won. 10-7. ilikeike "Hey, Amy," Dan said, showing the screen to his sister. "Do we know anyone with this name?" "Ilikeike…" Amy shrugged. "Looks Hawaiian." Dan typed back: um, gr8. who ru?