This Book Is Not Good For You (5 page)

I must pause now to do something I hate: apologize.

Cherish these words because I doubt you will hear them from me again: I’m sorry.

You’re not the conniving coward who sent me those chocolates. You’re not the scurrilous scoundrel who trespassed on my property, who rifled through my personal papers.

I know that now.

You see, after an exhaustive search of my office, I found a glove. A white glove. It was caught in the clasp of a chest I keep beside my desk. The true intruder must have left it there.

Naturally, it is alarming to discover that the Midnight Sun has found me. In an odd way, though, it’s a relief. It was inevitable, once I started telling these stories, that they would try to locate me. Now it’s done. The other shoe has dropped.

Or rather, the other glove.

What I don’t understand is why they left my book intact. Why did they leave me intact for that matter?

Are they simply toying with me? Biding their time until they strike again?

What strange plot is afoot?

Speaking of strange plots, I’d better continue with mine. Time, it is now clear, is of the essence.

Let’s see: where were we? I’m afraid my close brush with the Midnight Sun has addled my brain just a little.

Oh, yes. Hugo’s restaurant. That’s what comes next. But I just had an awful realization: you’re out of sync with the story.

Unlike Cass, you already know who Senor Hugo is, don’t you?

If you haven’t guessed yet, I will give you a moment to figure it out. Here’s a hint: think back to Chapter Fifteen, the chapter I let you read at the beginning of this book…

That’s right! Senor Hugo is one of the three villains in the Tasting Room—those people keeping Simone, the supertaster, prisoner. Hugo is the blind man. The one Simone calls the Pirate.

And who are Simone’s other two captors, the ones she calls the Doctor and the Barbie Doll?

Correct. They’re none other than that dread duo, Dr. L and Ms. Mauvais.

My question is this: have I ruined the suspense by clueing you in that the chef is a villain?

Or, on the contrary, have I made the meal the kids are about to have at his restaurant scarier?

Think about it: Cass and her friends will be eating in the dark. They will be entirely in Senor Hugo’s power. He could poison them—or worse.

Alfred Hitchcock, the famous film director and master of suspense, always maintained that knowing something terrible was about to happen was scarier than not knowing.

Well, you know that something terrible is going to happen. (And believe me, it is!) Was Hitchcock right? Are you frightened? How frightened?

Please circle the face that best represents how you feel right now.

1. INSANELY UNSCARED—WOULD JUMP OUT OF AN AIRPLANE WITHOUT A PARACHUTE.

2. LAUGHING AT FEAR—WOULD JUMP OUT OF A PLANE WITH A PARACHUTE.

3. BRING IT ON—WOULD BUNGEE JUMP OFF A BRIDGE.

4. HAPPY AS A CLAM — WOULD BUNGEE JUMP IF PUSHED..

5. NORMAL—DON’T FEEL THE NEED TO TEST THE LAWS OF GRAVITY.

6. SLIGHTLY NERVOUS—THERE’S A CHILL IN THE BACK OF MY NECK.

7. SCARED—SHIVER DOWN MY SPINE, DOUBLE-CHECKING THE LOCKS.

8. VERY SCARED—TEETH CHATTERING, KNUCKLES WHITENING.

9. BEYOND TERRIFIED—FROZEN.

10. CATATONIC.

Thank you. That was very helpful.

From the outside, Hugo’s restaurant, El Castillo de La Noche, looked as its name suggested it would. Like a castillo. A castle.

But a castle dipped in blue. Midnight blue.

The stone walls, the iron gates, even the turrets and the gargoyles—all were painted the same deep dark shade.

As Cass passed through the gates with her mother and Max-Ernest and Yo-Yoji, they all shivered involuntarily. The sun had not yet set but they seemed to be entering a kind of permanent twilight.

In front of them, a shadowy tunnel of oak trees led to the restaurant entrance.

“I hope there’s at least one thing that doesn’t have chocolate,” said Max-Ernest. “I’m hungry.”

“Too bad we haven’t found the Tuning Fork yet,” whispered Yo-Yoji. “Then you could turn your food into whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but I wonder—even if I could change the taste, wouldn’t I still be allergic? Or do you think—”

“Shh,” whispered Cass, indicating her mother, who was only a few steps ahead of them.

The reminder about the Tuning Fork had made Cass slightly sick to her stomach. Although she’d planned on telling her friends about her little verbal slip, she hadn’t yet found the right moment.

Or maybe it was that she hadn’t yet found the courage.

The restaurant’s tall front doors were shut and all the windows were shuttered. It looked as if the restaurant might be closed.

But as they stepped onto the portico the doors opened and Senor Hugo emerged from the dim interior.

“Cassandra,” he said, smiling directly at her. “My guest of honor.”

How, she wondered, did he know where she was? She hadn’t uttered a word. Did he recognize her smell?

“Allow me to welcome the princess to her castle.” He offered his arm.

Cass had no more a desire to take his arm than she had a desire to be called “princess,” but her mother gave her a nudge, so Cass allowed the chef to escort her inside.

The entry room was dark and very plain, save for a candelabra sitting on a small table in the center. The flickering candles reflected on the glass surface.

Mismatched bouquets of color-clashing flowers were spread around the room apparently at random. But as she examined them more closely, Cass realized that the flowers were in fact very carefully arranged:

“They’re scent bouquets,” she said to Max-Ernest. “See, this one’s all lemon smells—”

He nodded. “It’s stronger when you brush against it—”

A discreet sign listed the rules of the restaurant. Written in Braille as well as printed, it was hung low enough on the wall for a person to touch:

Welcome to El Castillo de la Noche,

The Castle of Darkness

The following items are forbidden:

Lighters and matches

Illuminated watches

Cell phones

Pocket knives

Pens and pencils

Please leave all bags at the reception desk

“Does a backpack count?” Cass asked their host.

Her backpack contained nearly every forbidden item. But she didn’t feel secure leaving it. Especially at Hugo’s restaurant.

“Normally, yes. But for you we will make an exception.”

Why was he being so nice to her? Cass wondered. Was it possible he wasn’t as bad as she thought?

“You are about to enter a world of darkness,” said the chef to the group at large. “But it is our hope that you will not feel so much the loss of sight. Instead, you will feel as if your other senses are heightened.”

Behind Senor Hugo, a pair of dark blue curtains opened and a pale man in a gray smock silently entered the room.

Senor Hugo acknowledged the newcomer without turning around. “Howard will be your waiter and your guide. Like all of us here, he is blind and has no trouble navigating in the dark.” The chef bowed. “And now, if you will excuse me, the kitchen beckons—”

As Cass’s mother thanked him profusely, Hugo disappeared through a side door.

“Madam,” said the waiter, staring in the general direction of Cass’s mother. “If you please—”

The waiter instructed Cass’s mother to put her right hand on his shoulder and Cass to put her right hand on her mother’s shoulder. Max-Ernest and Yo-Yoji were supposed to follow suit.

“Now follow me, please. And if you need to stop, say so. We don’t want any collisions.”

The waiter led them past the velvet curtain into a long hallway. At first, the hallway was dimly lit from the outside—but there was little to see. Only bare, gray walls. And a thick, dark carpet.

Then Max-Ernest, the last of their party, walked in and the curtains closed behind him.

Suddenly, it was pitch-black.

“What happened? It’s so dark!” whispered Max-Ernest.

“It’s supposed to be,” said Cass. “Just keep walking.”

“Yeah, but it’s really dark. I can’t see anything. Not even my hand.”

“You should have practiced like me,” said Cass. “I always spend at least one hour a week blindfolded. Just in case I ever get stuck in a cave and my flashlight goes out.” (This was a slight exaggeration, but it was true she’d tried walking around her room with a blindfold a few times.)

“If you would all be quiet for a moment,” said the waiter calmly, “I am now opening the door to the main dining room.”

They could tell right away that they’d entered a much larger space. The air felt cooler and lighter. And there was more of an echo.