The Code in the Mailbox

Chapter One

"I don't want to go," Tina said for the third time.

Her mother faced her, hands on hips. "Tina Nelson, I'm ashamed of you. Mr. James is blind and needs help getting settled. I told him you'd be over."

"Mom, it's vacation. I was going to meet Penny. We made plans."

"More dumb detective stuff, I'll bet." Mike looked up from the T-shirt he was stretching out on the kitchen counter. He made his voice low. "Fingerprints... secret codes -----"

Tina glared at Mike. "Mind your own business."

"Codes are fine," Mom said, "but don't let me catch you using the mailbox across the street for your messages. The place is rented, so it's Mr. James's mailbox. For his mail, Tina."

"I know, I know," Tina muttered.

"I understand Mr. James needs help putting his things away." Mom opened the door and gave Tina a little push. "Now get going." Then she added, "We won't start dyeing the T-shirts until you get back."

Tina slammed the door. So much for her plans to go through the new book of codes with Penny.

She kicked a rock across the street, hard. It skipped right past the beautiful silver mailbox with the little door and the flag she and Penny always raised when they left secret messages for each other. Now it was Mr. James' mailbox. They'd have to find a new place to exchange coded notes and detective reports.

A deep voice answered Tina's knock. "Are you the Nelson girl?"

"Yes."

"Come on in. Careful of the boxes."

The room was dim with the curtains closed. Boxes lined the walls. "We'll start over here," Mr. James said, walking toward the wall, one arm out in front. His foot hit a box and reached down inside it, frowning. "Pans. They go into the kitchen. Next, bix should be plates -----"

Dishes in the cupboard, shoes in the closet, tapes in the bedroom. He went through box after box, his face set in a frown. He didn't talk except to tell Tina what to do.

Tina made fifty trips down the dark hall, looking eagerly at the front door each time. The whole afternoon was slipping away. One more box. Just one more -----

"Where do these white pages go?" she asked.

"Books. Leave them for now. Shelves aren't up yet."

"Books?" Tina stared. She'd never seen books like these before. Big pads of thick pages all covered with bumps.

Braille. Of course. She pulled one out, feeling the dots. Did those bumps really make words? How could anyone read them?

"Hey, Mr. James, did you learn Braille in school?"

"No need then. I learned the alphabet, just like you."

Tina put down the book. "You mean... you could see when you were a kid?" she asked.

"I could throw and catch with the best of them. I became blind much later." He turned to Tina. "What about you? You play ball?" His voice didn't sound unfriendly, really, just low-pitched.

"I play basketball in the winter. Now I'm busy with other stuff ----- detective stuff." Tina tried to make her voice sound casual.

"Oh, a detective?" The corners of Mr. James' mouth turned up just a little. "Fingerprints, secret messages ----- that sort of things?"

"Well, it's coded. I like codes the best." Tina was still fingering the Braille bumps. "Can anyone learn Braille?"

"Anyone willing to spend enough time. Don't know why you'd want to learn it, though, when you don't need to. Wait a minute ----" Mr. James started to feel around in the book box, frowning again. That frown almost seemed connected to his fingers ----- a thinking frown, not a mad one.