solution astounded Martin. Fireflies were thick on the island every summer, yet he had never thought to harness their abilities. Felix, and every other kid in Xibalba, seemed to possess a unique ingenuity. Yet almost all of them lacked curiosity beyond their own insular interests. They were clever but guarded. They were relentlessly suspicious. They had little to no interest in playing games together or telling stories, in discovering anything new. These kids were so different from George.
As Martin searched the Internet, learning all he could about Xibalba and its inhabitants, he watched kids come and go from Felix’s house. Of all of them, Darla was the most frequent visitor. Every time she entered, she slipped a piece of paper in a mailbox marked
Updates & New Page Requests
. Then she would touch her fingers to her lips and blow Martin a kiss. He never knew how to react. Most of the time, hegave her a wave and she let out a loud, knowing laugh, then headed for the door.
The rest of the kids ignored Martin. Mostly they came in and asked Felix for access to their personal pages. Using his master key, Felix would unlock the pages and lead his guests into empty closets, where they could be alone with the contents, sometimes for seconds, sometimes for hours.
Martin wasn’t sure why these children needed to keep things locked away from each other, but he decided that if he was going to be one of them, then he needed a personal page too. So he approached Felix one evening, and the two had a look at the block in the Internet that featured Martin’s brief biography:
MARTIN MAPLE
Martin is from an island. He came to
Xibalba more than a year after all the
other Forgottens arrived. He met Kelvin
Rice near the ocean. He is quite good
at installing solar panels. Other than that,
he doesn’t do much. He asks a lot of
questions.
“Who wrote this?” Martin asked.
“Anonymity,” Felix said. “Essential in the process. It’s all fact-checked, of course. On occasion, I reject slanderous entries. And there are some things from our past that some of us would rather forget about. For better or worse, we keep that sorta noise out of it.”
“Can I add anything?” Martin asked.
“Not to your biography, but you can spruce up your personal page all you like,” Felix said. “Put whatever you want in there.”
He unlocked Martin’s block and handed it to him. “I’ve set you to private access, okay?”
Alone in an empty closet, Martin opened the door on the back of the piece of wood. Into the hollowed-out interior, he inserted the mottled and muddy pages of the book his father had given him. Beneath them, he hid the address from George. He had yet to tell anyone about these two valuable items. Chances were they wouldn’t care.
The block was nearly full, so Martin closed it and returned it to its spot hanging from a hook in a cluttered corner of the former living room.
Felix was waiting there for him. “Can I have your ear for a sec?” he asked. “Security is important. Passwords and locks are great, but I can’t get that day from a couple weeks ago out of my noggin. Darla and Henry shouldn’t just barge in here and do what they want. And I have my suspicions about others and their monkeyshines. You’re good at building things, Martin. Is there some way you could offer a smidge of help on this?”
“I could set a trap,” Martin told him.
“We don’t need a pit of alligators or anything, but I like the idea,” Felix said. “Yes. Yes. I like the idea a lot.”
“A snare or something,” Martin offered.
“Exactly,” Felix said excitedly. “Snag them in the act. I had proposed something similar to Lane last year, but all she cares about these days are her contraptions. I mean, it’s topnotch entertainment and the last one I saw was a marvel, but odd, very odd.”
“I don’t know Lane,” Martin admitted. “I mean, I’ve heard about her, of course.”
“Really?” Felix said. “You’ve never seen