The Potato Chip Puzzles_ The Puzzling World of Winston Breen - Eric Berlin [28]
Winston got out of the car and looked around. The sun was really beating down now.
“Where to, do you think?” Jake asked, shielding his eyes.
“There. Look,” Winston said, and pointed.
Another feature of Sutherland Farms was a maze—giant bales of hay stacked five high, creating very effective walls. Today there was a sign at the entrance: CLOSED FOR PRIVATE EVENT. Next to that stood an advertisement for Simon’s Potato Squares. There was no question where the puzzle was this time around.
“That’s what I like to see,” said Mal. “Let’s go.”
They reached the maze entrance, and Winston could hear the shrieks of kids running around in there. An oldish fellow with a significant belly came over to see if they should be allowed to enter. They showed him the mini computer and the man walked away, mollified.
“A maze,” said Mr. Garvey, doubtfully. “Isn’t the answer supposed be a word? How is a romp through a maze going to lead to an answer word?”
Winston said, “Maybe it’s hidden somewhere? Maybe they hand you the answer when you find the exit?”
“Only one way to find out,” Mal said, taking a step forward. “Shall we?”
Mr. Garvey raised a hand. “Let’s just think for one moment. What’s the fastest way of doing this? Maybe we should all take different routes through the maze. This way one of us will definitely find the answer.”
Jake said, “If Winston’s waiting by the car with the answer and I’m still wandering around in there with the computer, that doesn’t help us much.”
Mr. Garvey nodded. “You’re right. Bad idea. We stay together. Let’s go. Keep your eyes sharp.”
The entrance was blocked by an elaborate curtain of corn husks. They parted this, and immediately came upon a sign bearing a single handwritten letter: T.
“That’s probably important,” said Mal.
“All right,” said Mr. Garvey. “Look out for more letters.” He headed off in a random direction. The three boys rushed to catch up.
Hay dust floated around like snow in a snowglobe—it felt like the air itself was made out of bits of straw. It was impossible to walk around the maze without a great big sneeze welling up in the back of your head.
No one was talking about it, but everyone on the team knew this was their opportunity to catch up to the rest of the pack. If they could burn through the maze quickly, and if other teams stumbled into a lot of dead ends, then Winston’s team might gain back several minutes lost to the flat tire and the time spent wandering around the planetarium.
By the time they reached their fourth dead end, however, it no longer looked like they were going to solve this thing quickly. And with each new dead end, Mr. Garvey became a little more intense. He was no longer interested in any opinions his kids might have; in fact, it was all Winston could do just to keep up with him. At one point, Mr. Garvey rounded a corner, saw it was a dead end, and wheeled around again so quickly that Jake slammed into him.
“Jake, watch where you’re going,” Mr. Garvey said angrily. “This is hard enough without you getting under my feet.” He stormed off in a new direction. The boys glanced at each other with irritation and then ran to follow him. This was anything but fun.
There were definitely other kids in the maze—Winston could hear them—but they encountered only one team face-to-face: the kids from the Demilla Academy, who were the closest thing right now to suspects in the cheating mystery.
They ran into the Demilla team no less than three times. The first time, there were nods of acknowledgment, but no words passed between them. The second time, there was some mild laughter. “What, you again?” said the boy on their team with a