Free Nothing Special by Geoff Herbach Page B

things all too well. First, those who assume tiny Andrew Reinstein to be somebody other than what he purports to be are correct. He is not a percussionist. Second, those who find Andrew’s older brother to be remotely intelligent have been utterly fooled and are obviously not terribly intelligent themselves. Felton has refused to figure out that which is directly in front of his face, though he has been prompted. He has refused to listen to that which has been placed directly in his ears and eyeballs again and again so that he might figure the world out by himself. He learned nothing. Now, when it is too late, the dull Felton Reinstein has an inkling something is off. He should not be proud.
    I stopped reading. My mouth, I’m sure, was hanging open, my eyeballs likely popped out of my head. Wait…Wait…Who is Randy Stone ?
    I read on…
    In his second missive, the detective mentioned Fiddlesticks, Florida. In his third missive, the detective alluded to three non-Felton “Reinstein” hits on the Internet provided by his Google Alert. Felton failed to follow up on either clue and is thus a complete dunderhead with no brain to speak of.
    I stopped. I hadn’t received a third missive. Then I thought and realized that—holy balls, Aleah—I’d marked Randy Stone email as spam because I didn’t want to get bad stuff from Gus, but this wasn’t Gus and I didn’t receive the third email at all. I went back into my trash folder and—holy balls—I found it.
    It was dated April 15th. I’d never, never read it. I didn’t see it. This is it:
    The brilliant child detective Randy Stone has pursued Felton Reinstein in the following ways: He has established a Google Alert on the word “Reinstein,” which returns each day a list of places on the Internet where Felton Reinstein has been mentioned. These sites describe Mr. Reinstein’s prowess on both field and track. They herald his “motor” and his “competitive spirit.” They detail his future prospects as a collegiate athlete and suggest collegiate athletic programs where Mr. Reinstein’s particular and peculiar skills would best be put to use. The good detective then compiled these articles on a website, feltonreinstein.com, in order for all fans of Mr. Reinstein to find the news they want in one place. Along with the web links, Randy Stone uploaded pictures and nice biographical information regarding Felton Reinstein and his family.
    Let it be known: Randy Stone enjoyed doing so.
    Here is a bit that may not be known:
    By placing a Google Alert on “Reinstein” without attaching the name Felton, Randy Stone hoped to capture any other information about the worldwide Reinstein clan that might shed light on the detective’s inability to smoke cigarettes adequately. Only three times did other information show up on the Net.
    1. Once when Andrew Reinstein made the honor roll in February.
    2. Once when the combination of Robert Rein was pressed accidentally against Stein, Gertrude in a bibliographic catalog. It looked like this: “…authored by Robert Rein; Stein, Gertrude, Collected Works …”
    3. And, finally, two weeks ago, when there was one other very significant non-Felton mention.
    The talented child detective tried to speak with Felton Reinstein about this third mention. But, Felton would not talk and told the detective he should “shake it off.”
    That is it. That is the end. No more feltonreinstein.
    The detective is on his own.
    â€œHoly shit!” I shouted. It was only at that moment that the full truth of the matter came into my brain. Andrew. Andrew was Randy Stone. Andrew had warned me about what he was doing, but I’d paid no attention. Andrew had closed himself in his bedroom to get away from me and to plan…whatever the hell he was up to.
    I went back to look at the second email Randy Stone had sent. It was totally whacked out and