Startled, they looked up. "Oh, hey, Cody, what's new?" Shimo sputtered, surprised
to see me there.
"Oh, nothing really. I see you've made a new friend."
"Oh, let's introduce you guys!" Maleesa cut in. I raised my eyebrows and continued.
"I also noticed that you guys are dealing pretty well with the bad news."
"Well, our new friend is helping us--" Maleesa started.
"Everyone, really!" Shimo interrupted.
"He's helping everyone to sort of... " She smiled a mischievous smile. "Deal
with our grief."
"Cody, meet Boris W. A. Odgen!" Vanny said with a smile, gesturing to the
Kacheek.
"Er, hi Boris W. A. Odgen." He returned my greeting with a shy smile.
"Call me Boris." I nodded.
"Anyway, Boris has been telling us about a NEW Art Centre that they're in
the middle of relocating, isn't that right, Boris?" Maleesa urged him on.
"Well, yes, Creating World is a wonderful new Art Centre that has been functioning
in Mystery Island for many years. Unfortunately," he added when I shot a quizzical
stare at him, "not many people know about it. You know how mysterious those
Mystery Islanders are! Always wrapped in enigma!" He waited for the others to
laugh before continuing. "However, the Islanders seem to have lost their, how
should you say, thirst for art. Popularity is rapidly decreasing, and funds
and personnel are being vast on a nearly vacant building. Therefore, once we
heard the sad, sad news about this Art Centre, we decided to seize the moment
and relocate somewhere close by in Neopia Central."
"Just a question. Where, exactly, is this going to be?" I was very suspicious
of the whole 'Creating World' idea. I was, and still am, an avid art lover,
and I have been on vacation to Mystery Islands several times. I had never known
of such an Art Centre.
"Well, they're not sure yet," said Vanny quickly, "They're looking around for-
what was it? Or yes, 'prime locations'! They want the best spot possible!"
"I see..." I said slowly. "So, you decided you use these people's sadness against
them and start recruiting members for your own Art Centre while they were confused?"
All my friends were shocked at my words. Apparently, so was Boris.
"Oh, my, no," he sputtered. Then, regaining composure, he said, "No, surely
not, my friend! I was simply visiting the Centre for... old time's sake, you
might say. When I found all these people in such distress, I thought nothing
of lending my services to help them cope... However, if that is how you feel,
I shall not insult the people of this Centre any further, I will leave." He
got up and started pushing his chair in.
"NO!" Maleesa squealed and, sending a look of daggers at me, grabbed his jacket.
"Don't worry," she reassured him, "Cody's harmless. She comes off a little strong
sometimes." Looking straight at me, she continued. "She doesn't even, in fact,
hang around with us that often any more. She usually just stops by to say hello,
and then, she leaves."
I was shocked, appalled, and betrayed. I couldn't believe she was kicking
me out! Not even just out of the Centre, but out of the group! With my mouth
open, I took in a surprised breath, then took the hint. I left in a stunned
daze.
When I finally arrived home, my daze had worn off and in its place came a severe
sadness. All my friends had been turned against me! I sat on my bed and cried
for hours. My white comforter was covered in tear stains and the sheets were
thrown all over the room before I finally went to sleep for the night.
I slept in for hours the next day. I ate loads of waffles for breakfast (at
one o'clock) and stayed in my pajamas all day. But that night, I started to
feel very antsy, like I needed to do something. Now, my sadness had been replaced
with sheer, utter anger. So furious that I felt like I could take that Boris
guy and serve him for lunch. He had ruined everything! My friends were gone,
and now I had an essay to do, and a mystery to solve... and now I couldn't even
go back to the Centre because no one wanted me there. That clinched it. I was
going to solve this problem--and now.
I sat down, knowing no where to start. I was confused- should I look at that
date again? Or maybe the record? Was it Basil Greenwood I needed to be looking
for? But my thought kept returning to my new enemy: Boris W. A. Odgen. I toyed
with a pen in my hand, twirling it like a baton, and then I grabbed a piece
of paper. I wrote down the two names that were ruining my life the most.
Basil Greenwood
Boris W. A. Odgen
I looked at the two names in with utter despise. I crumpled up the paper, ripped
it, and threw it with perfect accuracy into a garbage can twenty feet away.
Suddenly, I had a brainstorm. I grabbed another piece of paper and scribbled
down the two names. I looked at them closely, then started scratching out letters
as I went along...
In five minutes, I was smiling big and bright. Boris W. A. Odgen was an anagram
for Basil Greenwood! I had solved the crime! I danced with glory all around
my kitchen, banging into the table several times and eventually having to stop
because of a bruise on my upper thigh. Ouch. My elation eventually faded into
a dim euphoria. I sat down at my table to formulate a plan of action.
I would have to reveal him to the entire Centre before I revealed him to the
Police, or else no one would stand behind me. I would need to show them all
the letter, the contract with his name on it, and the anagram. Chances were
slim that they would believe me, but I had to try. I would do it... on Monday.
I checked the calendar for the date, and my mouth dropped open. It was the 30th
today. Tomorrow was the first--the day of the good-bye party! I had no time
to prepare, no time to get more info. I sighed. I would have to go on what I
had.
***
My sleep that night was restless. I tossed and turned like a hurricane. The
next morning, I woke with a headache and a muscle spasm from sleeping the wrong
way (big surprise). I almost considered not going to the Centre. But my conscience
got the better of me and I dressed and ate breakfast by the time the wall clock
struck nine.
Down at the Centre, there were pull-down stages being put up, tables and chairs
being set up, and a collection of the Centre's finest paintings being hung on
all the walls. It was still open to the public, however, which was fortunate
for me. Nervously clutching my bag, I walked over to where my friends were all
sitting. Shimo and Vanny looked away uncomfortably, but Maleesa started at me
with defiance, and Boris (or, Basil, rather) with arrogance. I sat down.
"So, I see you've come to apologise and make amends."
"Not really, no," I replied casually.
"Well, then," she started, insulted, "You had better go, because we don't
want friends who insult friends. Right guys?" Shimo and Vanny nodded.
"Well," I said, my voice loud enough for the whole Centre to head, "I don't
want friends who lie, cheat, and seek revenge on old friends." Everyone started
at me in confusion and interest. I made my way up onto the stage.
"Everyone, attention over here!" I didn't need to say that, every eye was already
on me. "Boris W. A Odgen is a thief, a liar, and he is set out to ruin Blu!"
Everyone gasped at this unexpected accusation.
"Well, I should think not!" said an indignant Boris, rising to his feet.
"Sit down, you old goat!" I shouted at him. "Now, everyone, I'm going to tell
you a little story. Once upon a time, a man named Pete Owsold and a man named
Basil Greenwood had a dream. They would create an Art Centre for everyone to
enjoy. It would be filled with marvelous creations from all over Neopia. Pete
wanted the Centre to be free, as it is now. But Basil, who was a greedy, conniving
pet, wanted it to cost money--and lots of it." As the story progressed, Basil
grew paler and paler. Blu was standing in the front of his office, listening
intently as if it were a new story.
"They argued about it for a long time. Finally, Basil said, 'Enough with this!
I'm through with you!' He quit the project, his dream shattered. He said he
would have nothing to do with the Art Centre ever again.
"But Pete Oswold fought and fought for his Centre, and he got it off the ground.
And instant hit, its popularity skyrocketed. Pete, now known as Blu to his new
friends, loved his Art Centre--it was his pride and joy. But Basil was still
left with nothing.
So one day, not so long ago, Basil sent Blu a letter--this letter, in fact."
I said as I pulled it out of my pocket and read it aloud.
"But there was one small problem with the letter--The DMLC did not exist. And
there was no return address on the envelope. So you had to think--who would
want to shut Blu down? Steal his Art Centre? Well, that's easy, isn't it? It
was Basil!"
"Well, this Basil character has nothing to do with me!" started Basil. "My
name is Boris W. A.--" the rest of his sentence was muffled by the numerous
people who jumped on him in order to silence him.
"But just because Basil took the building didn't mean that Blu couldn't have
his Art Centre somewhere else, did it? Blu could have just opened a new one,
and invited all his friends to join it. But he couldn't, if they were all already
in an Art Centre. Such as the one Boris W. A. Odgen has been promoting. 'Creating
World' was nothing but a revenge attack on Blu. There has been no such art program
on Mystery Island--ever. He simply wanted to steal all Blu's participants to
ensure that he would never have an Art Centre again.
"If you need any more proof, if this is not enough for you, then I will tell
you one last thing--Boris W. A. Odgen is an anagram for Basil Greenwood." The
crowd gasped. Their gaze slowly turned from me to Basil, who was trying in vain
to cover himself with his beret. Finally, he stood up on the table and cried,
"Fine! I admit it! I hate Blu! I hate this Centre! And most of all I hate all
of you for supporting him!" He leapt in the air and onto the floor. "But you'll
never catch me! Good-bye, Blu, and thanks for the coffee!" He took off with
lightning speed. No one bothered to go after him.
Everyone's attention turned to me and Blu again. After many people thanking
and congratulating me, they went over to apologize to Blu and tell him how happy
they were about this fortunate turn of events.
Then, with their heads low, came Maleesa, Shimo and Vanny, with Maleesa in
front.
"Er, hey Code..." They were obviously very sheepish about what they had done.
"Look, we didn't mean to-"
I waved their apology away with my hand. "Don't worry about it. I know you
guys were pretty upset about the Centre, and that guy was offering you a way
out. I understand. But," I added, as an afterthought, "I think you guys owe
me some coffee."
***
It has been four months later now. Everyone has really started to cherish
and appreciate their time here. Basil was caught a few weeks ago, Blu got a
permanent grant from the Neopian Council, and as for me? Well, let's just say
those guys are still paying off their debts--in coffee.
The End | 
