My name is Cody Smith. I call many places home--New York, Iowa, Florida. My Mom’s a detective in Key West. Someday I want to be a detective too. I like to solve mysteries.
Maria Romero lives with us while her parents work in Italy. Her folks pay Mom to look after her. We need the money because my dad walked out last year.
I try not to miss Dad, but I do. He never calls. He forgets to send money. But Mom says we’ll be okay.
Maria and I are in Iowa visiting Gram again. Mom had to stay in Florida and work.
Gram lives on a farm outside of River Bluffs. That’s near Sioux city on the Missouri River.
“Come on, Cody,” Maria called. “We’re going into town for instructions. Then we’ll meet Nickolas Emerson and Catherine Monroe.”
“I’m coming,” I called. “I was trying on my new T-shirt.´ It said SKORE’S STORE on the front. That was the shirt’s logo.
We were going on a bicycle ride across Iowa. We were leaving tomorrow morning. Gram’s friend Olaf Skore owned Skore’s Store. He was our sponsor for the bike ride.
I ran downstairs and joined Maria. She was so cool! I was glad she was staying with us.
I wished I had black curly hair like hers. Mine was stubby and red.
Maria ate lots of cinnamon balls. They left a good smell about her. I liked to have good smells in my lungs.
Maria wanted to be a newspaper reporter. She practiced by writing in her Secret Journal. It was really just a notebook. But I didn’t argue with her. And sometimes I peeked at it.
I wished we had a mystery to solve. So far Nickolas and Catherine were our only mysteries—because we hadn’t met them yet. I wondered what they’d be like. Nickolas’s father was Gram’s friend. Nick and I would be sharing a tent on the bike ride. Catherine was a newspaper reporter. She would to be sharing a tent with Maria. You have to be an adult to stay in your own tent. But Maria didn’t mind sharing a tent with Catherine. Maria was excited to meet a real reporter.
“Cody,” Gram said, interrupting my thoughts. “Your mother called from Florida. She’s worried. She’s not sure you’ve trained enough for this ride.”
Gram smiled at me. She’s tall and slim and always wore jeans. Her sneakers always matched her T-shirts. Today they were lime green.
Gram also had red hair. Mom said that’s where I got mine. But I thought it looked better on Gram.
“We trained for weeks in Florida,” I said. “We’ll do okay.” Still, 400 miles was a long way, I thought.
“Yeah, we’ll be okay,” Maria agreed. She tucked her journal into her backpack. Then she slipped on her radio headphones. I heard rock music coming from the headphones. That was Maria’s favorite kind of music.
“I told your mom I’d be driving the sag wagon,” Gram said. “I’ll pick up tired riders. You kids can rest if you need to. I told her Kaleb will be driving the repair truck.”
Kaleb was the hired man who helped Gram run the farm.
“Did you mention the first aid nurse?” I asked.
“Sure did,” Gram said.
We put our tents in Gram’s van. She drove us to River Bluffs. I saw lots of blue sky and sunshine.
I liked the scent of newly mown hay. It was so sweet I could almost taste it. That was Iowa for you.
Gram pointed overhead. I saw a flock of geese shaped like an arrowhead. It was awesome.
Maria didn’t see it. She was busy writing in her journal. This time I didn’t peek.
The town buzzed like a beehive of people. Tomorrow the bike ride left from here. Then we’d ride clear across the state.
The Missouri River flowed on the west side of Iowa. The Mississippi River flowed on the east side. We would be riding from the Missouri River to the Mississippi. It would take a week.
“I see the semi,” Maria said. She pointed toward the park.
“We’ll load our gear into it today,” Gram said. “Sergeant Conroy will stand guard. We’ll sleep at home tonight. Then we’ll join the riders tomorrow.”
“I can hardly wait.” I sounded brave. But I was worried. Could I ride 400 miles? I had to! I needed to prove I hadn’t inherited Dad’s dropout gene. And I couldn’t disappoint Olaf Skore. He’d supplied our shirts and bikes.
“I’m going to write during this trip,” Maria said. “I hope I’ll have time at night. Maybe I’ll try a riddle book.”
“Just have fun,” Gram said.
“I wish Finn were going,” Maria said. “Won’t Kaleb miss his grandson?”
“Finn won’t leave his calf,” Gram said. “He’s still training it for the fair. He’ll be staying with a neighbor.”
“I’m hoping for a mystery to solve on this ride,” I said.
Maria laughed. “Gram, Cody’s still trying to be famous.”
“Everyone needs a goal,” Gram said.
“Now he’s trying to be an eponym,” Maria said.
“An eponym?” Gram asked.
Surely Gram knew about eponyms--but maybe not.
“An eponym is a person,” I said. “A person who lends his name to something. When I say Braille, what comes to mind?”
“Books for blind people,” Gram said. “The Braille system.”
“Right,” I said. “Louis Braille invented Braille writing. He’s an eponym. His name’s a household word.”
“Cody wants people to say, ‘he’s a regular Cody Smith.’ ”Maria said. “That would mean he’s a great detective.”
“You can be anything you want to be, Cody,” Gram said. “Go for it.”
Gram parked at the school gym. The air inside smelled like dirty socks. What a rotten smell to mess up my lungs!
“This meeting will be short,” Gram promised. Just then a tall boy approached us.
“Nickolas Emerson,” Gram said. “Please meet Cody and Maria. Cody will be sharing your tent.”
“Just call me Nick,” the boy said. He smiled. Maria and I smiled back.
I liked Nick right off. He was blonde and slim with friendly blue eyes. Gram had told us that Nick was fifteen. He was new in town and would be starting high school in the fall.
I liked to nickname people. I would have called him Pied Piper. He reminded me of a storybook picture--the one of the Pied Piper playing a flute. It was too bad he already had a nickname.
People filled the bleachers. We sat on chairs on the floor. A bearded man stood on a platform. The General--that’s what I nicknamed him.
“Pace yourself,” The General said. “We’ll ride from River Bluffs to Davenport. Dress for comfort. Don’t ride too fast. Stop now and then to rest. Drink lots of water.”
The General spouted more rules. Maria took notes. So I turned my ears off. If I needed to know anything I’d ask Maria later.
I spotted a pretty young woman seated behind us. I turned my seat slightly so I could watch her without being too obvious. Blonde strands streaked her brown hair. She reminded me of a tiger cat.
She carried a camera and a notebook. I read her nametag--Catherine Monroe. This was Catherine! The Sentinel was written underneath her name. The Sentinel was a local newspaper.
Cat. I nicknamed her easily. Then I nudged Maria and pointed to Catherine.
When The General finished talking, everyone stood up. I started to follow Gram. Then I noticed something on the floor. It was an envelope with my name on it.
“Come on, Cody,” Gram said. “I want you to meet Catherine.”
“Wait,” I said. I picked up the envelope.
“Where’d that come from?” Gram asked.
“I found it on the floor,” I said.
“So open it,” Maria said.
They waited while I opened the envelope. We all read the message.
BEWARE, CODY SMITH! BAD LUCK AWAITS
YOU ON THIS BICYCLE RIDE.