All
through the year, Sandy had often dreaded classes and longed for
break time. That moment, when school was essentially one long break
time, she was b-o-r-e-d. If only there was class. That was at least
something to do.
School
was boring. There had been no attempted kidnappings. The redhead
Connie was no longer around to spice things up. And Annie was as
uninteresting as the books and notes she had been studying. If the
situation went on long enough, Sandy would die of boredom and she
really, really did not want to expire.
At
least, not before she received her inheritance.
Maybe
Sandy should join a club. Before that, she needed information on the
available clubs. How would she go about gathering such
information? Barging in on a club meeting was not very nice. She
could not ask her friends or classmates since they were not around.
Maybe on the Internet. She had heard that all sorts of information
could be found there.
The only
place in the school where she could get an online connection, for a
student without a laptop, would be the library. As strange as it
might sound, Sandy had stepped into the school library before. It had
been while doing research for one of her class projects.
No, she
had not done it all on her own initiative. It had been a group
project. At least she had learned a little on how use the Internet
for research then. And back at home, Sandy had used the computer
several times, when she had not been too lazy to drag a chair from
the dining room to sit at the computer desk.
The
school library was at the top floor of one of the school blocks. When
Sandy entered, the middle-aged bespectacled librarian at the counter
gave her a brief glance. The latter was buried in a book with several
more untidily stacked beside her.
The
computers were arranged in a rectangular group at the center of the
library. Sandy picked one at the corner, the furthest from a couple
of giggling girls at one of the other computers.
Sandy
typed 'What club should I join?' into the search engine.
The
webpages she got in response were very, very vague on the answer. She
had a personality quiz. She had lists of reasons why she should join
a club (but no recommendations). She had names of clubs she had never
heard of. Where was the direct arrow pointing to the club that she
should be in? If only life were that simple and... oooh, flashy
button. Click!
That
click brought her to a website of beautiful clothes, garments that
she had only dreamed of presented clearly for her to see. Soon, she
was clicking links to see shoes and makeup. Catalogs of stuffed toys
and handbags also had her attention.
And that
was the end of Sandy's quest for a club. Drawn into the curiosities,
the pretty pictures and the assorted flashy treasures of the online
world, Sandy was lost in the depths of the Internet.
(Well,
that would not do. If that happened there would not be a satisfactory
end to the story. So let there be a distraction to bring Sandy back
to reality.)
A chat
window opened up in the corner of the monitor, urging for Sandy's
attention.
It urged
on for several minutes before Sandy finally tore herself away from
the bright jewelry she was admiring. And it took her another minute
to figure out how to work it.
"sandy
gould?" the chat message had asked.
"Yes,"
Sandy replied, wondering who could she be speaking to.
"join
the secret society?" the chat window asked.
"?"
Sandy typed back.
"secret
society. we talked at festival."
"you
are red box?" Sandy referred to the red box containing the fire
hose near the stairs that she spoke to during the School Festival.
"yes.
join?"
The
flashy picture of a shiny ruby on a sterling silver necklace appeared
in the web browser. Sandy was hooked when she saw it. It was another
minute before the chat window could get her attention again.
"join
secret society?" the chat box tried again.
Sandy
did not reply.
"we
gv riches power" ('We give riches and power!')
Sandy
still did not reply. She was not really interested, even at the
mention of the word 'riches'. The Internet had her full attention,
with images of sparkling stones and precious metals, worked into objects of beauty, things that she
could buy when she was rich. On the other hand, the chat box's offer
was only text, without the pretty pictures.
(By then,
anyone would conclude that Sandy was an airhead, not suited for the
intricacies of the Secret Society (whatever it was). The other person
on the other end of the chat of course realized that and disappeared.
Which suited Sandy fine, so she could continue looking at pretty
things on the Internet.)
Bad Ending: Swallowed by the Internet! (For real.)
(The
narrator gave up and went on to the next chapter.)
***
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