The Day 250 Struck: Part Three

I can't believe I'm doing this! Kori shook her head at her own foolishness. Why in Neopia did I leave Mystery Island, cutting my first vacation in years short, to come here to some random lane on Neopia Central? Even when she was asking herself this, she knew the answer. She could not allow this 250 to go on wreaking havoc on the Natives if there was some way for her to stop it. Besides that, no one believed her that 250 was even a relevant piece of evidence in the case, so she had to solve it for herself.

     Kori stopped at the beginning of Hilts Lane and stared. The lane was lined with dozens of houses! How was she supposed to know which was the 250's house? It would take hours to knock on each door and ask, and that was assuming everyone even answered their doors! Drooping her head at the thought of the huge task she was undertaking, she started trudging up to the first door. As she was about to knock, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her heart skip a beat . She whirled around, and there, just around the bend in the lane, she could see a house that she absolutely, positively knew belonged to 250.

     Jogging quickly in the direction of his house, she never took her eyes off it for fear that it was a mirage and would disappear. Grateful that she didn't have to knock on doors at all, she stopped on the sidewalk in front of his house and hoped that the house wouldn't disappear within the next 250 seconds. It was so obvious that it belonged to 250, she wondered why it had ever been a mystery whether or not he was a myth or fact. On the roof was a huge blow-up 250 balloon, and everything about his house was in increments of 250. She didn't bother to count the rocks and shrubs, but she had a feeling they would all add up to 250. And, surprisingly enough, he lived at 250 Hilts Lane. Why do I not feel shocked? Kori chuckled to herself. Approaching his door, she hesitated. Well, here goes nothing! She lifted her paw, and knocked three times. Nothing happened. She knocked four times this time, as loud as possible.

     How could he not be home?! I have come all this way for nothing! She thought in despair. Lost in her thoughts, she was not aware that the door had silently cracked open.

     "Yes, yes, who is there?" the voice was... mysterious, and seemed to have a frequency of... 250? How odd, Kori thought.

     "Well, speak up, young pup! I, the Great 250, am not about to stand around all day for you to gawk at!"

     Clearing her throat, Kori found her voice. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for a Mr. 250 who lives on Hilts Lane... You wouldn't happen to, uh, be him... would you?"

     Although Kori could not see 250, she felt him staring at her like she was an imbecile. "Not to be rude, dear, but who else could I be? Did you even bother to look at my roof, or count my rocks and shrubs? I should think you would already know the answer to that question! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things I need to do... " He started to shut his door, but Kori put her foot in front of it.

     "No, please! I need to talk to you! Could I come in, maybe?"

     Exasperated, he gave in. "Oh, all right, but be quick about your talking because I have many po- uh, things to do." He seemed to just disappear behind the door, and Kori pushed it open to enter his house. "Over here," he called, and she followed his voice to a dark sitting room. She sat down in a chair that was illuminated by a light. Everything else was in shadows.

     "So, what is you need to talk about?"

     "Well, please don't get angry if you haven't committed any of these crimes, but over on Mystery Island, there are all sorts of bad things happening, and they all involve 250. Someone stole 250 books, 250,000 NP, 250 wooden boards on a building were painted and vandalized, and that's not all, but... " She let her voice trail off, to hear his response.

     For a few seconds it was absolutely quiet, and then the storm broke, in a manner of speaking. "How could you have figured this out?" he raged. "Here I have been so, so... mysterious, and yet you still solve my anagram after I've only left 5 clues! This is impossible! Preposterous! I-I-I have never had someone solve this so... fast!" He suddenly got calm. "How, may I ask, did you do it?"

     Startled by his suddenly calm demeanor, she fumbled around for an answer. "Um, well, it wasn't that hard, really. Every single clue had 250 in it. And that book in the library was the cincher, with its anagram spelled over and over in it. And your house kind of has a huge 250 on top of it, so... " she shrugged. "So, what did you plan to do if I hadn't solved your... brilliant... plan so quickly?"

     "Ah, yes, my brilliant plan, if you don't mind me saying, was quite, well, brilliant. I had planned 250 events, not crimes, mind you, to celebrate the arrival of my... uhm... " he paused.

     "Your what?" Kori asked.

     "Well, if you must know, my poem! I was going to leave 250 clues that would make an anagram for my poem! It was going to win Neopia's Greatest Poet!" He started to sob. "Now you have wrecked all hope of me ever becoming Neopia's Greatest Poet!"

     Kori let him cry for a moment, and then asked, "What was your poem? Maybe you could share it with me?"

     "Well, I suppose I could do that... yes, I could..." He was instantly happy again, and read in his mysterious, 250 frequency-resonating voice,

     "Hilts Lane is where I live

     Leaving clues is what I give

     Master of numbers

     Even during my slumber

     To rhyme or not to rhyme

     That's a question I ask many times

     Because my poems are sublime

     I sell them all for a dime

     While my identity is unknown

     And I live quite alone

     Come and visit me at my home

     Thank you and good bye."

          Kori waited an appropriate amount of time for an awestruck person such as herself, and then raved about his poem. "Why, that was brilliant! No, really, it was quite good! I only wish I had thought of it myself, so I could win the contest!" She paused. "But, maybe, why didn't you just mail your entry in, like everyone else? It would have caused a lot less grief... "

     He started to laugh, and then said, "Well, DUH! If you had even read the rules, it says to be UNIQUE and CREATIVE! This is the most creative entry EVER and I would have won for sure! But noooo, little Miss Genius had to go and solve it before it was finished!" He started to sob again.

     "Wait, wait! I may have a plan to help you still win the contest..." She started whispering her plan.

     ***

     Kori was relaxing, sitting on a bench along the Mystery Island beach front. This is the life, she thought. Finally, a real vacation! The sun was shining, the ocean waves were rolling, and nothing could make the day better.

     Kori glanced down at the newspaper she held in her hands and looked over the front page again. One of the articles was about the mysterious crimes committed earlier that week. No one knew how, but all of the stolen or vandalized items had been returned and fixed. People were still speculating as to who could have possibly done such.

     Kori laughed out loud, which drew a few odd looks in her direction, but she ignored them, focusing on the next article, which announced the winner of the title "Neopia's Greatest Poet". It was a rather long winded article, but a few paragraphs down was the name, Joey King. Next to the article was a picture of the winner. He was a nice looking Yellow Ixi, wearing a black outfit. If one looked closely, they could see on his shirt a small 250 pinned to his shirt. Near the end of the article, his poem had been printed, and, not surprisingly, it was 250 characters long.

     Folding up the paper, Kori stood and started to head back to the hotel. She never would have thought that 250 had a name other than that, or that his entire name was not 250 characters long. Many people were probably wondering how a poet who no one had ever heard of had won Neopia's most coveted poet title.

     "They'll never know," Kori said out loud, and laughing, dropped the paper in the garbage. She never noticed that the building she passed had only 300 bricks painted red...

The End