The Internet Escapade (2 page)

“How about Friday?”

“Sure. That’s great.” With a rush of gratitude toward his big brother, Sean added, “It’s real cool of you to share them with me.”

Brian turned to Mrs. Quinn. “I wish Dad wasn’t away on a business trip so I could tell him my news,” he said.

Mrs. Quinn smiled and hugged Brian again. “Why don’t you telephone him tonight?” she asked.

She reached out another arm for Sean and drew him close. “How about you, Sean? Do you have any good news for your dad?”

Sean’s stomach felt weird again. He took a deep breath and answered, “Well … um … nothing special. I’ll just say hello to Dad. That’s all.”

While Brian tackled homework and Mrs. Quinn cooked dinner, Sean decided to use his dad’s computer to play one of the games. To his surprise he found an E-mail message addressed to Sean Quinn:
YOU GOT YOURSELF IN TROUBLE TODAY. YOU HAD TO GO TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE. YOU AND MATT WON’T BE THE ONLY ONES IN TROUBLE FOR LONG. TOMORROW MR. BURNS IS GOING TO HAVE PROBLEMS OF HIS OWN
.

“Uh-oh,” Sean whispered. He looked to both sides, as if whoever wrote the E-mail was staring at him. How did this person know that I went to Mr. Burns’s office? Sean wondered. What does it mean about the principal having problems? And what does that have to do with me?

Creepy!

S
EAN RAN UP TO
Brian’s bedroom and said, “C’mon, quick! There’s something on the computer you have to see!”

Brian trotted down the stairs after Sean and followed him to the computer. Brian took one look and said, “E-mail? To you?”

“Read it,” Sean said.

Brian did, then turned to Sean. “What kind of trouble did you get into?”

“Not so loud,” Sean said nervously. “Mom might hear.”

Brian lowered his voice, but he said, “How can I help you, if I don’t know what’s going on?”

“Okay,” Sean said. “Remember when Dennis Taylor told us how he switched the hookup on two computers, so what people wrote ended up on each other’s screens? Well, that’s what Matt and I did, only some people don’t have a very good sense of humor and we got sent to Mr. Burns’s office. Someone who knows about it wrote this E-mail letter, but I don’t know who it’s from.”

“It’s easy to find out,” Brian said. “We’ll check the sender’s E-mail return address.” He leaned toward the screen and then stopped. “Hey!” he said. “That’s weird. The log-in name and address are missing. This is an anonymous mailer, so there’s no record of who sent the message.”

Sean peered at the screen. “Maybe it’s from Matt. He loves to play tricks with his computer.”

“Didn’t you tell me once that Matt had an account at your school?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Okay then. It can’t be from Matt or from any other kids at Redoaks,” Brian explained. “Because on the school accounts no one would be able to write a mailer without identification.”

“I don’t get it,” Sean said. “The computer always shows an Internet I.D. for anyone writing an E-mail letter. I don’t understand how someone can send an anonymous mailer.”

“It’s easy enough, if you know the right connections,” Brian told him. “On the Internet there are a series of computers known as anonymous remailers. You send mail to a remailer computer. It strips your name off your message, then forwards it to the person you want it to go to. You couldn’t do it from school, though; you’d get caught.”

“Does everybody know about these remailers?” Sean asked.

“No, but they’re not hard to find,” Brian answered. “The kids who are really into computers know about them.”

“Like Dennis?”

Brian shrugged. “Sure. He’s the one who told me about remailers.”

Sean thought a moment and said, “I think whoever wrote to me is somebody from my school. Who else would know about Mr. Burns and about my getting into trouble and having to go to the office?”

Sean glanced over his shoulder, as if someone were standing in the shadows of the den, spying on him. But no one was there.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
,
AS
Sean plopped his books on top of his classroom desk, Debbie Jean faced him with a smirk. “Your computer mix-up was a dumb joke,” she said. “When you pull anything that stupid, you deserve to get caught.”

“It was worth it,” Sean said, “to see you arguing with your computer and yelling that it was broken.”

Some of the kids giggled, and Sean smiled. Debbie Jean’s face turned red, but she said, “You didn’t fool me for a minute. Besides, I—”

The bell rang, and Mrs. Jackson said, “Settle down, class. Let’s all stop talking and sit down quietly.”

Sean sighed with relief that he didn’t have to hear any more of Debbie Jean’s complaints, but his relief didn’t last long. The intercom crackled, and a stern voice boomed into the room: “Sean Quinn and Matt Fischer, please report to the principal’s office.”

Matt was at the dentist, so Sean realized that he’d have to face this problem alone. He climbed out of his desk and started toward the nearest door.

Larry Grier leaned out of his desk and snickered as Sean passed him. “Sean’s in trouble again,” Larry said loudly. “What did you do this time, Sean?”

No one had to tell Sean that he must be in some kind of trouble. But what? Sean wondered if being ordered to go to the principal’s office had something to do with the anonymous E-mail he’d received the day before.

He got the answer the moment he entered Mr. Burns’s office. Mr. Burns was less understanding than he’d been before. He looked even taller than last time, too.

Mr. Burns stared down at Sean as he asked, “Someone has infected the computers in our media center with a virus. The computers shut down exactly three minutes after they’re turned on. What do you know about this?”

“Nothing,” Sean said. He squirmed. “Well, that is, I mean almost nothing. Maybe nothing.”

Mr. Burns kept staring, so Sean tried to explain. “Yesterday, at home, I got an anonymous E-mail message. It said that I’d been in trouble but that today,
you
were going to have problems.”

“Did I just hear you say that the E-mail message was anonymous?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure that’s impossible,” Mr. Burns said. “Everyone who accesses the Internet has some kind of identifying name. In America Online it’s a screen name. In Prodigy it’s an I.D. code. I know that E-mail can’t be sent anonymously.”

“But it can,” Sean said. “Brian said that—”

Mr. Burns interrupted. “Your brother, Brian, is a member of the junior high’s computer club. No doubt he’s aware of many computer tricks that can be played. He might very well be playing a trick on you with all this talk about anonymous E-mail. Maybe I should have a talk with him, too.”

“No!” Sean said. “None of this is Brian’s fault.”

“We’ll see about that,” Mr. Burns said. “Even though no one claims to have put the virus into the computers, I hold the computer club members either directly or indirectly responsible. Their sponsor has agreed that during their weekly visit to our school—which happens to be tomorrow—they’ll try to find the virus in the computers and remove it. We might get some answers then.”

The bell rang, and Mr. Burns asked, “For the record, tell me, Sean. Did you or your friends have anything to do with the computer virus?”

“No,” Sean said. “We didn’t.”

Mr. Burns sighed. “Then you may be excused.”

Sean looked up—way up—at Mr. Burns, who had a very tired expression on his face. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Burns,” Sean said. “I promise that Bri and I will find out who put the virus in your computers.”

“Maybe it would be better if we
didn’t
have your help,” Mr. Burns suggested, but Sean smiled encouragingly.

“Bri and I solve lots of crimes. We’re the Casebusters. Just relax, Mr. Burns. We’ll find out who did this.”

Sean left the office to find Larry, Jabez, Debbie Jean, and a few other kids from his class waiting for him.

“What happened?” Jabez asked.

“Are you in trouble again?” Alison asked, glancing at Debbie Jean. “Is it about what you did with the computers yesterday?”

“I hope so,” Debbie Jean said.

Sean noticed that the office door was open, and Mr. Burns could hear what he said. And Sean remembered what he had been told to do.

He squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out, “Debbie Jean, I’m sorry I played that computer trick on you yesterday. I apologize.”

Debbie Jean began to choke and cough. As she bent over, Alison slapped her hard on the back. A wad of chewing gum shot out of Debbie Jean’s mouth.

Debbie Jean stood up and stared at Sean. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she complained.

“Done what? All I did was apologize.”

“I know, but I wasn’t expecting it. You surprised me, and that made me swallow my gum, and I nearly choked.”

“You’d better pick up your gum,” Larry said, “or you’re going to step in it.”

Debbie Jean scraped her wad of gum from the floor and made a face. “Oh, yuck!” she said. “Now it’s got fuzz on it.”

Charlie Miyako walked up to Sean, an unhappy look on his face. “I told Mrs. Harrison that the magic computer was going to give me three wishes,” he said. “But she said there was no magic computer. She said that somebody was playing a trick on me.”

Sean couldn’t stand to see Charlie look so miserable. “Don’t give up,” Sean said. “Just stop talking to everybody about magic computers. Keep your wishes secret, and maybe they’ll start to come true.”

“When?” Charlie asked.

“Like maybe starting tonight,” Sean said. “Who knows?”

Charlie grinned as he ran off to his classroom.

Larry laughed as Debbie Jean complained, “You gave Charlie three wishes? You didn’t give them to
me
.”

As Sean walked to his fourth grade class he asked himself, Why don’t I think before I make promises? A giant candy bar is one thing, but there’s no way I can come up with a new bike and a monster under Sam’s bed.

It wasn’t until they were leaving school that Sean was able to talk to Matt. At least, he
would
have talked to Matt, if Larry hadn’t been so busy filling Matt in on everything that had happened that day.

As they pulled their bikes from the rack Larry said, “Mr. Burns thinks that you and Sean gave the computers a virus.”

“No way,” Matt managed to mumble. His face was puffy and numb with the anesthetic the dentist had given him.

“That’s what I told Mr. Burns,” Sean said as he hopped on his bike. “He kinda acted like he believed me, but I don’t think he really does. He’s blaming the kids in the junior high computer club, too, and that’s not fair.”

Just as the boys reached the street where they would part company, Larry’s older brother Frank rode up on his bike. “C’mon, Larry,” Frank said. “Mom said you’re supposed to stop dawdling and come straight home.”

“I’m not dawdling,” Larry complained.

“Just get on home,” Frank told him. Without saying a word to Matt or Sean, Frank took off. Larry pedaled hard to keep up.

“Sometimes I’m glad I don’t have a big brother,” Matt said. “Frank’s a pain.”

“Yeah,” Sean said. Loyally, he added, “But Bri’s okay—most of the time.”

“Frank never speaks to us; it’s as if we were invisible.”

“Forget Frank,” Sean said. “I have to ask you something. Have you gotten any anonymous E-mail letters?”

Matt stopped his bike. “What are you talking about? I’ve never even heard of an anonymous E-mail letter. You’re kidding, right?”

Sean circled his bike before he stopped next to Matt. It gave him time to think. It might be better not to tell Matt about the anonymous letter. He didn’t want everyone at school to know about it. “Just wondering,” he said. “I’m cutting off here. I’m going to the store to get Charlie his giant candy bar.”

Matt reached into his pocket for some change. “I’ll go halves with you on the candy bar, but count me out on the bike.”

“Thanks,” Sean said. He rode off toward the store.

Later, when he arrived home, all Sean could think about was the computer and what he might find on it. Mom was still at work and Brian was at basketball practice. If he turned on the computer to check for E-mail, he’d have to face any anonymous messages alone.