Over the next week and a half, Toni and I talked on the phone at least once a day as we got ready for the nationals. The hotel rooms were all paid for, since Trapp, or more likely Mrs. Mahoney, had used an online travel service. We had four rooms: mine, Trapp's, Teodora's, and Gloria's, although I wasn't completely sure Gloria's would be available. It was possible she still might be planning to go to the nationals.
We figured that as long as they didn't ask for ID, Toni could pretend to be Teodora. If that didn't work, then she could share my room.
Just so you know, it was Toni who mentioned we could share the room, not me.
As for the airline tickets, I could use mine, but Toni would have to purchase a new one, since airlines definitely required identification. We split the cost of a standby ticket, knowing for a fact there would be a seat available.
Toni went to the American Contract Bridge League's Web site and bought a membership under the name Annabel Finnick. I could still use Trapp's ACBL number, but I got a membership in my own name, just in case. Toni already had her own ACBL number.
The truth is, we still didn't know what the hell we were doing. We were simply going through the motions. We had a list of things to do, and we were doing them, but neither of us believed we would actually be flying off to Chicago to play in the nationals.
"Are we really going to do this?" Toni would ask me during one of our frequent phone calls.
I'd say, "Yeah, we really are," but then a few minutes later I would ask her the same thing. "We're really going to do this?"
"I think so," Toni would reply.
Maybe we would have felt more confident if there had been a can of peas sitting on top of these travel documents, like a paperweight. I hadn't perceived a word from Trapp since that day. Toni hadn't heard from Annabel either. A sign of encouragement would have been nice. Was that too much to ask?
If you're wondering how my parents reacted when I told them that I'd be going to Chicago with Toni Castaneda for three days, and maybe sharing a hotel room with her, then you're even crazier than I was beginning to think I was. I told them that Cliff and I would be driving up north to look at colleges.
They were all for that, since Trapp's estate was now footing the bill. Basically, they urged me to find the most expensive college that would admit a dolt like me. They told me to save my gas receipts.
I did learn that Trapp's house now belonged to Mrs. Mahoney. She returned from visiting her sister, and discovered that someone had been snooping around inside.
"Nothing was stolen, as far as she could tell," said my mother. "But boxes were strewn all over the garage, and every kitchen cabinet was open."
"That's scary," I said.
I told Leslie the truth. I thought someone ought to know, just in case the plane crashed or something. I told her everything, including hearing Trapp's voice.
She didn't doubt me for a second.
"Does he sound happy?" she asked me.
I explained that all I ever got from him were short two-or three-word phrases. Nine of clubs. Two hearts. Turn right. Canned peas. "Who knows if the concept of happiness is even relevant?" I asked.
That might seem like too philosophical a question for an eleven-year-old, but Leslie is a lot smarter than most people realize. I think most eleven-year-olds understand a lot more than we give them credit for.
Actually, I didn't tell Leslie everything . I didn't mention the pantry.
Leslie also helped me study my new batch of bidding conventions, and this time it wasn't just eleven pages. Toni e-mailed me sixty-one pages I had to learn for the nationals.
If you're wondering why I had to learn all the bidding conventions, since supposedly Trapp would be telling me what to bid, there were two reasons. Back at the bridge studio, there had been times when I'd had trouble perceiving him. If that happened during the national tournament, I'd have to be able to make the bid myself, without undue hesitation. Also, partners are not allowed to have any secret bidding agreements. The opponents would be allowed to ask me what a bid meant. I had to be prepared to answer.
Fortunately, all the bidding conventions used by Trapp and Annabel are pretty well known. They all have names. So if somebody asked me about a bid, I could just say "Roman key-card" or "Reverse Drury," and even if I didn't know what any of that meant, the opponents would.
"When you get back from Chicago," Leslie asked, "will you take me to the bridge studio sometime?"
I promised I would.
Two days before our supposed college tour, I still hadn't told Cliff anything about it. I obviously needed to tell him something, since he was part of my alibi, but how do you tell your best friend you're going to spend three nights in a hotel with his girlfriend?
"You don't have to worry about Cliff," Toni assured me. "I'll explain everything to him, in my own way."
I didn't ask for further detail. I didn't like thinking about the two of them together, or how she might gently break the news. Still, it would have helped to know what she told him. As it was, I stayed clear of Cliff, afraid I might say the wrong thing.
The night before we were to leave for Chicago, I was unable to fall asleep. I tossed and turned all night. At about three in the morning, I turned on the light and finished reading Cannery Row, the book that had brought Trapp and Annabel together. I found the quote that Trapp had told me about.
"It has always seemed strange to me," said Doc. "The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success."