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said Eddie. “You love writing.”
    “But I’m beginning to think I’m not any good!” said Mom. “I read you that
epic
poem I wrote last week. It wasridiculous!” She threw her arms wide and said in a deep, dramatic voice, “
How woebegone was Constance Meade? She had one glass eye and couldn’t read!
What was I thinking? I don’t even know what I
want
to write anymore. Forget this rhyming stuff. … I’ve got to find a great
story
to tell.”
    Eddie walked across the room to his bed, sat down on his mattress, and took off his sneakers. “New town, new stories. Isn’t that what Dad said?”
    “He did say that, didn’t he? The funny thing is … I think I might actually have an idea for a new story,” said Mom. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.” She waved the book. “Let’s hope this Nathaniel Olmstead person knows what he’s doing.”
    “He knows,” Eddie said. “I’m sure of it.”
    Mom went back downstairs. After unpacking some more boxes, Eddie spent some time hunched over his desk scanning the mysterious book, searching for a clue. After staring at the page, the letters all started to blend together, and he couldn’t concentrate.
    To clear his head, Eddie hauled the library book out of his bag. He went through it slowly, trying to understand the confusing academic writing, but ultimately, the book wasn’t much help. For a while, there didn’t seem to be anything in it that resembled the code in
The Enigmatic Manuscript
.
    Finally, in a chapter called “The Science of the Secret Message,” he came across a symbol similar to the one writtenon the first page of the book. The symbol was called pi. Memories of Mrs. Benson’s math class came back to Eddie. He already knew pi was a Greek letter that stood for 3.14; still, he tried to read more about it. The letter represented a constant relationship between the circumference and diameter of a circle. But he didn’t see what that had to do with anything.
    Just before dinner, Eddie’s father finally managed to set up the Internet connection. Thinking about what the tow truck driver had said, Eddie searched for a link between the names “Jeremy” and “Gatesweed.” Near the top of the page, he found what he was looking for: a headline for an archived article in a journal called
The Black Hood Herald
. The article described an investigation, which had occurred almost twenty years earlier, into the disappearance of a twelve-year-old boy from his bedroom one October night. His name had been Jeremy Quakerly.
    This must be the boy Sam had been talking about, Eddie thought. His childhood friend had disappeared. How horrible … But what did this have to do with the supposed Olmstead Curse? The article didn’t mention anything about curses.
    Next, Eddie searched for the words “Olmstead Curse.” He received several results, but one paragraph leapt clearly off the screen. It was from a Web site called Cassandra’s Calendar, posted several years ago.
    Some citizens of Gatesweed are calling these incidents the unfortunate consequence of the aptly named “Olmstead Curse.” Local superstition says the author’s stories have wreaked havoc on the town itself. As strange as it may seem, many blame the missing author himself for the recent closing of the Black Ribbon Mill. Representatives for Mr. Olmstead pass off such comments as unsubstantiated hogwash. Outside of Gatesweed, such hogwash continues to work wonders for the author’s sales. …
    Weird, thought Eddie. He read through several more search results. From the articles, Eddie gathered that, for some reason, people in Gatesweed believed Nathaniel Olmstead’s stories were dangerous. Eddie didn’t understand.
    How could words be dangerous?
    More important, Eddie still wasn’t sure if there was a connection between the supposed curse and the book his mother had found in the barn. Certainly, the biggest clue of the day had been the bookstore. Now at least Eddie knew where the book had come