Adrien clutched the letter, reading over the words carefully as he tapped his pen against the red letter. He nibbled on his cheek as he searched the area for a place he could plop down and begin the challenge. Spotting the perfect place, he ran over to a table and hunched over the surface.
Write seven dashes at the bottom of the page. Each of the letters can be found in the different clues. The letters will spell out my name. Still interested, dear reader?
Of course, he was still interested as he etched out seven spaces and internally shouted, "yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!"
Letter 1: I am not the first but the second. Scrambled, this hair-raising author's full pen name is "linters."
"Linters?" Adrien asked aloud to himself. He pondered this further.
He tried to come up with different anagrams. Slinter? Trinsel? There's a Tinsel book series, but that leaves out the R.
Adrien shook his head. He's never seen an author by that name. He was tempted to use an unscrambler on google, but that would be considered 'cheating,' and he was a man of honor, dangit! Not that the letter writer would ever know, but it was the principle of the matter.
Perhaps he should peruse the bookshop. What's next to the poetry section? He stood and scanned the area, walking around the different sections: Poetry, Cooking, Business & Financial, Religious, Historical, Autobiographical, Children's…
"Ugh, this would take forever," he thought, frowning. Adrien looked again at the jumbled up mess of letters on the clue.
Maybe all the letters weren't in the last name.
I am not the first but the second.
He pursed his lips in thought. The second. The second of what?
He stared at the letters and tried to unscramble them. If it's the second, could it mean…?
He thought.
And thought.
And thought some more.
"Oh! It's so obvious! The second initial!" He exclaimed happily in the quiet bookshop, receiving a bout of shushes from annoyed patrons. He grimaced and mouthed a whispered apology, cowering inwardly like a turtle from his sudden outburst.
But when his attention turned back to the red letter, Adrien grinned manically, once again swelling with pride for solving the first portion.
Now, onto the next part of the riddle: Author's full pen name.
What author has a full name as short as seven letters?
He looked down at the bottom of the page and saw the seven blank spaces drawn out.
"Well, okay, I walked into that one," Adrien chastised himself, shaking his head. "Bravo, my mystery lady in red, you're already more clever than me."
Perhaps the author went by a shortened name like A.A. Milne or C.S. Lewis.
And if his hunch was correct… What do both of those have in common? They were children's book authors!
Well, it was a much better lead than anything else he had thought of before.
Toward the back of the store where there were shelves lined with colorful books, toys and games, he walked around and squinted through the different middle initials of authors with two-letter names. Adrien dipped low to the ground in his search, and if he was honest with himself, he felt like he was on a wild goose chase.
Wait a second.
Goose.
Isn't there a book series like that? Mother Goose, perhaps?
Adrien stepped over to the nursery area where two younger children thumbed through books with colorful illustrations and large printed letters.
He crouched down low, knees pressed to the old wooden floorboards and quickly becoming sore from the hard surface.
He needed to talk to Mister Fu about putting a rug or something on the floor. How did little children or parents do this without permanently injuring their kneecaps? His mysterious letter writer better be worth all of this knee pain!
Adrien sighed, unable to find an author with ' s' unscrambled.
Maybe he wasn't off with 'Goose' though….
He remembered how he flew through another book series when he was younger. Although, that was a bit spookier, hair-raising one may even say.
In fact, that author's name was…
As if a flickering light bulb hung above his head as everything came together, he beamed. He zoomed over to the older children's books and frantically searched through the S author names.
The Goosebumps series! How could he have possibly forgotten? He spent so many nights up late reading because he didn't dare put it down without seeing if monster blood could be cured or how the invisible kid became visible once again.
And there, written on the spines of the short, easy-to-read stories was the author's name: R. L. Stine.
He had deciphered the first clue! He could hear a stadium full of cheers at his monumental accomplishment.
Adrien felt a bit giddy about his first letter win, doing a silly fist-pump in the air and mentally cheered as he stood in front of the hundreds of books written by the age-appropriate horror fictional author.
Not the first, but the second.
The first letter of his red papered mystery writer's name must be an L! He leaned against the bookshelf side and scribbled in his first clue. A giant 'L' with only six more letters to uncover.
L _ _ _ _ _ _
Maybe her name was Laurena, Lillian, or Lindsey.
He came down slowly from his high as he examined the next clue.
Letter 2: Preceded by a number, this clue had a drought that lasted for ten million years and a reign of lizards that had long since ended.
"Ummmm," Adrien hummed aloud, contemplating the riddle. His eyebrow quirked as he re-read the clue.
Preceded by a number.
So, it must not be an author's name this time. It has to be a fictional story - unless the Earth had a reign of lizards he didn't know about!
Actually… it did if you counted the dinosaurs as "a reign of lizards." Dinosaurs had fictional and non-fictional books about them, and the bookshop was fairly well-sized.
He really didn't want another exploration of the ground featuring his knees. Children's section again? No thanks!
He highly doubted that his supposedly cute, clever mystery letter writer would have two clues associated with the same book section.
If he was going to go with his gut, his gut said it was a fictional dinosaur book, so off he went!
Adrien made a swift exit out of the children's section and walked up the stairs to the second floor of the bookshop. Also known as, the best floor!
While The Gorilla preferred the coffee shop on the first floor, Adrien preferred hanging out on the second floor. It's where the magic happened! Or at least, that's how Nino put it, anyway. He wondered briefly if Nino would be here today or if he would be at school. School was almost over, right? He sighed as he climbed. Alas, Adrien was plagued. As a homeschooler who worked full time, he never seemed to match up with his friends' schedules.
When Nino was in The Nook, if he wasn't working, his music aficionado friend could be found up here, putting on records and adding new albums to the never ending collection. And thanks to Nino and Luka, The Nook had a fantastic music selection. Before they came around, Mister Fu only had a couple boxes shoved in a corner filled with an odd assortment of CDs, 8-track tapes, and vinyls.
With the new additions, the second floor was much rowdier than the first. And that surprised him most considering the bottom floor had the children's section—and the Crochet Cronies. He shivered simply thinking about those archaic fiends.
The Nook's second story had a large portion dedicated to the arts. It featured a small stage for poetry and music nights. Okay, fine, by stage, it was a large, rectangular red rug. But that shouldn't matter! It still counted as a stage for those who were creative enough to envision it.
The rest of the upper level held crates of music records, a green couch which no one ever fought over, some foldable chairs, a couple small tables, as well as some extra shelving for more popular books within their circle.
At first glance, The Nook's second floor wasn't anything really special, but to him and his friends, it was the best place Paris had to offer.
As he reached the top step, he thought about the different books the clue could reference.
Jurassic Park? Journey to the Center of the Earth? No, those didn't start with a number.
He pursed his lips and wondered what book: one, started with a number, and, two, had a drought and large lizards.
There was Dune or The Grapes of Wrath that had droughts, but those didn't have the reign of lizards.
He had a feeling he was in the right section, but he didn't know where to start.
He turned to the small section of Science Fiction books. There was Frankenstein, The Martian, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Fahrenheit 451, 1984, I,Robot…
The books went on and on. He forgot how many of these were turned into movies, too.
He twisted his lips to the side. He had always imagined having people over for a movie night. If only his father wasn't so strict about inviting other people over…
He imagined his friends in his massive bedroom all piled together on his large white couch, sharing buttery popcorn and laughing at the bad acting in scary movies.
Although… Marinette didn't really enjoy watching scary movies. Maybe he would put on something lighthearted. Perhaps a Ghibli film. Nothing said cozy like a coming-of-age story featuring teenagers navigating life together.
Wait a second…
He had gotten sidetracked.
Where was he on his quest?
His eyes darted around in search of the infamous alphabetic letter that brought him one step closer to his mystery author.
A mantra played in his mind, "Numbers, lizards, drought. Numbers, lizards, drought. Numbers, lizards, drought." Although he was sure Gandhi had never recited anything like this to achieve enlightenment.
As he looked over the ten shelves of books, Adrien's mind filled with images of the sun peeking out from behind the Earth.
He started humming the tune of a Stanley Kubrick film.
"Come on, brain! Work with me, here!" He chided as he brought his hand up to run through his hair.
But, the song wouldn't let up.
No, instead, it grew louder in his head. A roaring, increasing thrum of musicality dedicated to his vapid state of insanity.
Buuuuuum
Buuuuuuuuuuuuum
Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum
BUM BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM
"What was that tune even from and why couldn't it just go away?!" He shouted internally, nearly one step away from putting on the new XY song to drown out the music.
Actually, scratch that.
If he ever lived on a deserted island and the only music he could listen to was XY, he would rather eat sand. He would never be that desperate for that abhorrent music.
Luka had even banned it from ever entering The Nook's holy estate. He would hear no evil in this sacred establishment.
Adrien slowly turned, his eyes zeroed in on a title, and he became absolutely giddy again.
And he wanted to kiss his big dumb brain, and strangely, he wanted to kiss Stanley Kubrick, too, for his choice in theatrical, dramatic music.
Because there it sat, tucked away, squished at the very end of the shelf.
2001: A Space Odyssey.
He opened the first chapter and saw the first line, reading it aloud, "The drought had lasted for ten million years now, and the reign of the terrible lizards had long since ended."
He stood dumbfounded for a moment. Shakespeare, R.L. Stine, and 2001: A Space Odyssey?
If this letter author was a girl, and he was at least ninety-seven point five percent sure she was, she had impeccable taste.
The letter could only be one thing: A. He scribbled it down on the second dash and admired the progress he had made.
L A _ _ _ _ _
The rest of the letters came easier as he moved through the clues. A true madman in the pursuit of the treasure awaiting him. He laughed. He cringed. He crawled, and yes, he counted his knees on the ground as 'crawling'.
With each letter, he became more impatient for the grand reveal.
Letter 3: My letter is a tail considered an incarnation of evil, a second name also known as a Johnson, Willy or Member.
He snorted a laugh. Ah, the author is certainly cheeky.
Easy—has to be Dick, as in Moby Dick.
He needed to get his head out of the gutter!
But couldn't help the chuckle that escaped as he wrote down a "D" on the third line. Mature. The word he would describe himself as would be mature.
L A D _ _ _ _
Letter 4: I'm a girl who can't get enough gossip in her life. This sequel is set in a city that doesn't sleep. I'm the first letter of the title.
A city that doesn't get enough sleep and a girl who gossips; he had that in the bag. Not that he had ever read the books or anything.
He had absolutely no idea what best friends Blair and Serena were up to, of course.
And he had absolutely no opinion on the fact that Blair and Chuck had the perfect romance, and he absolutely had not swooned at the line: "Three words. Eight letters. I'm yours."
And he would absolutely never argue, in his head or aloud, that those words were a modern day equivalent to Hamlet's "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love."
Despite the fact that he had never read the Gossip Girl series, he could admit: he loved big declarations! Characters who didn't hold back their affections even when they're scared was what he thrived on. It's the reason to live! Love itself was enough. Enough for him, anyways.
Downstairs in the Young Adult section, he found the Gossip Girl series with the sequel: You Know You Love Me.
He added the letter 'Y' to the fourth line, smiling widely and holding out the red paper. His prized possession.
L A D Y _ _ _
Hmmm… Lady.
Perhaps she could be his Lady?
Adrien vibrated with a tingling sensation like a simple house cat in pursuit of a mouse. And with every clue, he peeled back the layer of who the author was.
The clues told a lot about his mystery author, and his Lady seemed to be all over the reading map which is exactly his type of girl.
Or… at least he hoped that she might be interested in him.
Well, he wouldn't find out unless he found the rest of the letters. He had to keep going—had to find out what her name was.
Letter 5: Ten words in, this letter can be found, where Hurston's character nearly drowned
Hurston. He vaguely remembered the author's name, let alone ten words in her book.
Now, this is truly making his brain reach back.
He was brought back to his English lessons. He needed to learn the language for international trade and clients for the future business and blah blah blah. His old man could certainly drill his point into his skull when he wanted to, an unwanted lobotomy by any means.
It's not like Adrien could argue about it…
His father had insisted that he read books in English, enriching his expansive reading vocabulary, and what happened after that? Adrien spent six months reading classic English and American books. Not that reading itself was the chore. No, reading wasn't the enemy here. It was the harsher pronunciations and accents of the Germanic-based language that made his tongue thicken with discomfort.
If only he could have read in Spanish or Italian, at least those rolled off his mental tongue easily.
If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs.
It wasn't the most exciting thing, but it could've been worse. And hey! Maybe all those tiresome months would come in handy now that he had a Hurston clue—one annoying obstacle he faced that actually paid off.
He thought back to those lessons, sitting at the large dining table, listening to his tutor drone on about hurricanes and American Southern slang.
His stomach grumbled with a sudden hankering for pears and tea cake.
The book title flashed before his eyes. He couldn't wait for his synapses to slowly connect. His feet moved toward the American literature section before his brain could catch up, too eager.
His wide, animated, cartoonish eyes scanned through the H authors looking for Hurston.
He paced around the shelves frantically. "Come on, Come on, it has to be here!" he mumbled. He stopped, feeling his heart thumping erratically as the book's name appeared under his thumb.
Their Eyes Were Watching God.
He popped the top of the bind with his finger, gracefully flicking the book out and greedily clutching it between his hands. Flipping open the first few pages, he thumbed the first line and beamed.
"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board," he emphasized the last word.
B. The letter is B!
He forcefully pushed the book back on the shelf, not caring if it looked slightly worse for wear. He ran his hand through his pocket, plucking his pen and the red letter. Clicking the pen, he scrawled in a B on the fifth line.
L A D Y B _ _
"Two more letters!" he chanted inwardly. So close he could practically feel her name slipping from his lips.
Letter 6: This letter is the name of the title poem containing these verses: "There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariner, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—"
What in the world was this from?
Turning the words over in his mind, he read over the lines slowly with a fine tooth comb. Based on the verses and style, this was clearly from a pre-twentieth century poet, but who the author was…. He wasn't sure.
Adrien leaned against the bookshelf, pushing the shelf's wooden edge harshly into the back of his head. Perhaps if he prodded hard enough, he could force the answer out.
After reading and rereading the passage, a tight ribbon knotted within his stomach.
Oh… oh no.
He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling through his locks and tugging at the ends.
Would this be the clue to break him? Would he be cursed to this lonely solitude, never to know his lady behind the red letter? Resulted solely due to his lack of poetry knowledge. Poetry!
Adrien knew he lacked a lot of things: street knowledge, a carefree life, a girlfriend.
But not knowing poetry?! He wasn't expecting that one to be added on the list!
Sweet, sweet poetry. This was his wheelhouse. His muse! Yet somehow, the title and author were escaping him. He forlornly stared at the missing two letters.
"Well, it's been fun. Goodbye, Lady B. Thank you for a wonderful, short-lived adventure," he consoled himself, slumping against the edge of the bookshelf. "Yet I am meant to live out my days not knowing who you are or where you came from. You came into my life, a meteor, crashing into my soul and forcing your way into my heart. Forever, you will have a place. A ruby treasure buried within."
He closed his eyes as the silence of defeat overcame him.