Published: September 25, 2007 09:13 am         

Chapter 7

Saving the day/data

By Bob Rouse
Illustrations by Ryan Lanigan



The story so far: After starting his own newspaper, Marky Meadows tries to solve a crime spree and avoid a bully’s threat.

“I don’t think the police have any leads,” Lily Meadows said as they drove into Crossville for another baseball game. “Will insurance pay for our things, Paul?”

“We won’t get enough to replace everything with something new,” he answered, looking for a parking place. “Maybe we can find some bargains at the Webb Site.”

As Mr. Meadows parked near the Crossville baseball field, Marky spotted The Enter-Net, the electronics store he had heard about.

“Dad, may I look around in there before the game starts?” Marky asked.

Paul Meadows eyed the store. “OK, see what their prices are like,” he said.

Inside The Enter-Net, Marky thought the store looked strangely familiar.

“May I help you?” asked a raspy-voiced lady.

“Yes, I’m looking for a computer,” Marky said.

The woman pointed to dozens of desktop computers. “All of our computers are guaranteed for 15 days,” she said.

As Marky looked closely at one computer, he spotted a faint mark on the “M” key and remembered the paper cut. That’s a fingerprint in blood, he thought. Mine!

“Thanks for your help,” Marky said. “I’ve got to get moving.”

At the ballpark, the Skiprock City fans had plenty to cheer about, as Jared Meadows hit three home runs. Marky, though, remained quiet – “thinking,” he said.

“Who thinks at a baseball game?” Paul Meadows asked his wife.

As the Meadows returned to Skiprock City, Marky again asked to be let off at The Webb Site. “Oh, no,” his mom said. “Not after you sent the police to that man’s store.”

“But Mom, he stole our computer!”

Marky’s dad pulled sharply into a parking space on Main Street. “Son,” he said angrily, “your reporter act has gotten out of hand. That man is going to sue us for harassment!”

“But he’s the Techno Thief, Dad,” Marky replied. “I can prove it. We can all go in the store together.”

Paul Meadows’ voice was calmer. “And if you’re wrong, you’ll give up the newspaper?”

Marky looked his dad in the eye. “If I’m wrong, yes.”

When the family entered the Webb Site, Mrs. Meadows spoke to Iggy Webb, who was carrying a power strip. “We’re sorry to bother you, but I hope you can help us settle a misunderstanding.”

Before Marky could address Iggy Webb, Carla and Sizemore appeared from the cell phone aisle. “Hey, Marky, we were talking to Mr. Webb about buying a bigger ad,” Carla said.

Marky ignored his friends and turned to Iggy Webb. “I finally figured out why your stuff is so ‘affordable.’”

Iggy Webb smiled a toothy grin. “Writing a shopping guide, now, are we?”

“No, a front page news story,” Marky said, swallowing hard. “All the stuff in this store was stolen in Crossville, and the stuff stolen in Skiprock City is in your Crossville store.”

Iggy Webb’s eyes narrowed.

“Young man –,” his dad began.

“Dad, the stores look alike. And I saw our computer in Crossville,” Marky said, still looking at Webb, who slowly edged sideways. “It had my bloody fingerprint on it.”

Nobody spoke for a second. Then Iggy Webb put his left hand on the doorknob of the storeroom door. “Quick thinking, boy,” he sneered. “But my car is parked right out the back. Too bad you’re not quick enough to catch—”

Thunk!

At first, nobody knew what hit him. Iggy Webb’s eyes crossed as he slumped to the floor. A baseball rolled slowly toward his feet.

“Fresh arm,” Jared said from the end of the aisle where he had beaned Webb. “I didn’t pitch today.”

By the time Sgt. Warren arrived and took the crook away, Marky had interviewed Carla, his mom, and Jared for the news story. Joe D. Lubbers walked by, and Marky called out to him: “Be ready to pick up today’s issue in two hours.”

“He’s working for us?” Sizemore asked.

“Yeah, I offered him seven cents a paper to copy and deliver all 300 newspapers,” Marky said. “That’s his cut.”

“But what about your other stories?” Carla asked. “They were on your stolen computer.”

“I listened to your grandmother,” he said, pulling out a portable computer drive. “I backed up everything!”

Carla hugged Marky. “I’m nominating you for a Pulitzer Prize!”

Marky Meadows, Ace Reporter, could only smile.



© RP Productions, Inc. All rights reserved.
The Hoosier State Press Association Foundation and the Indiana State Reading Association sponsor this story. For learning activities to accompany "Paper Cut," visit www.hspafoundation.org and click Newspaper in Education.