“So?”

“Remember, I need you to be honest. That’s more important to me than anything else.”

“Mom…”

“I’d rather not involve your father, but if you insist on lying to me, I most certainly will.” She paused and then said, “Your clothes are dirtier in the morning than they are when you go to bed. A week ago, they were damp and smelled like…well…awful.”

Evidence! He hadn’t thought about this aspect of his adventures. He had tried to keep himself looking the same: taking showers in the morning to get the dirt off. Yet he had just tossed his clothes into the hamper. Now he saw the stupidity of that.

“It’s not what you think, Mom.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I haven’t lied to you. Not exactly.”

“You either have or haven’t. There’s no in-between when it comes to the truth.”

“I have not snuck out of the house. I promise.”

He saw a tremendous relief in her eyes, but still her voice quavered, “Finn…”

“I swear. Mom, I have not snuck out of the house. I told you I wouldn’t, and I haven’t.”

“Finn…”

“I have worn my clothes to bed a few times in the past couple of weeks. If they look more wrinkled in the morning than they did when I went to bed—”

“Wrinkled? They’re filthy! Wet. With holes in them. I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like the truth to me. Let’s start over, one more time. Please, trust me. You can tell me whatever it is.

Whether or not we involve your father…well, we’ll see.”

“It stays between the two of us?” Finn asked nervously. “I gotta hear you say it, Mom.”

“It stays between the two of us,” she said.

“Okay, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Finn! Just tell me.”

Finn drew in a deep breath, wondering if he actually should tell her. What choice was there?

The evidence had busted him; he needed to explain it without getting himself into more trouble.

He said, “Something crazy happened when they made the DHIs out of us—the five kids.” He watched her face grow curious and concerned. “When we go to sleep, we aren’t exactly asleep.

We wake up in Disney World…as DHIs—as holograms.” Now she seemed to be fighting a smile.

“Trouble is, whatever happens there, carries over here. So when I get all dirty there, I end up dirty back here. But you can’t tell Dad, remember? You promised.”

For a moment it didn’t appear she was breathing. Then, her lips unpuckered, her nostrils flared, and she grinned. “That is the lamest, though the most creative excuse you’ve ever tried.”

Finn stared at her, dumbfounded. So this is what he got for telling the truth. “Mom, it’s the truth.”

She tried to compose herself, lost it to a creeping smile, and then suddenly grew very serious as Finn’s expression did not change. Now she seemed to believe him.

“The burn you saw on my arm? A laser fired at me inside the park, at night. I have a bruise on my leg where a doll bit me.”

“A doll?” There was that twitching smile again.

“It’s a Small World. One of those dolls.”

“I see.”

He couldn’t understand it. She didn’t believe him.

“You said you wanted the truth,” he reminded her. Maybe she thought he was losing his mind.

“No doctors,” Finn said, defending himself.

“You actually believe this?”

“How do you explain my muddy clothes? Huh, Mom? I am not sneaking out. I knew you wouldn’t believe me!”

His reasoning clearly perplexed her.

“Let me get this straight,” she said.

He interrupted. “You won’t get it straight. Because we haven’t gotten it straight—the five of us.

You can’t stop it, Mom. I can’t stop it. None of us can. It just happens. And until we solve—There’s stuff that’s got to happen before this is going to stop.”

“Finn, you’re worrying me.”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell Dad.”

“But I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”

“You promised. Just remember you promised.” He added, “The wet clothes. Tom Sawyer Island. You know that lake around it?”

“This is not funny, Finn. Okay? A-plus for originality. You really had me going. Now, please tell me the truth. The real truth.”

“’There’s no in-between when it comes to the truth,'” he said, quoting her. “If you can’t handle the truth, it’s not my fault.”

“Finn, do not leave. Not like this,” she demanded as he stood from the kitchen table. “Where are you going?” she called out, stopping him in the doorway.

Finn turned and faced his troubled mother. “There’s only one way to end this, to get this over with.” He hesitated, thinking of all the things he could explain if she would only believe him. “I’m going to sleep.”

If Finn had to tackle Thunder Mountain with any of his fellow hosts, he was glad it was Philby.

Philby was the kind of smart that made other school kids ask him to do their homework. By now he would have done as much Internet research on the ride as possible. They’d both ridden it dozens of times. But climbing around the ride at night was altogether different, as they’d learned the hard way at It’s a Small World and Splash Mountain.

They stood at the entrance to the ride. Moonlight glinted on the tracks. Finn said, “The letters we’re missing could be anywhere. On any stone, any rock.”

“You got it.”

They were surrounded by maybe ten thousand rocks.

“Anything I should know before we start?” Finn asked, knowing there had to be.

Philby said, “There are security cameras. A lot of them. Some are infrared and can see at night. And it’s like Splash Mountain: we can’t leave the track. That’s all we’ve got to worry about.”

Finn knew that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to jinx them.

The boys started down the roller coaster’s track. It rose and twisted and turned, extremely tricky to walk. They both wore their 3-D glasses and looked everywhere possible for clues. Philby, in the lead, occasionally stopped and listened and looked around. It made Finn nervous.

They continued along the empty roller coaster track, sometimes walking almost crablike.

They made it through two long climbs without incident. The roller coaster rose higher and higher.

“Where are we?” Finn asked.

“A little over halfway, I’m thinking.”

They stopped to rest. The moonlight shone down onto the red rocks. Neither boy saw any letters written on the stone.

Finn said, “Hey, guess what? We haven’t got a clue.”

“That’s a sick joke.”

They entered a canyon with steep walls. It grew darker the farther in they went. Finn felt his nerves tighten. He didn’t exactly love roller coasters. Walking one in the dark didn’t help matters.

The boys lowered themselves down a short drop in the tracks as the canyon widened. The scene was part desert floor, with cactuses and mining equipment, and part rock canyon. Massive stone walls rose on all sides.

“Too cool!” Philby said, lifting and dropping his glasses onto his nose and pointing.

At first, Finn thought he meant the Indian drawings and the dinosaur fossil that stuck out from the farthest rock wall.

But then he looked more closely. The letters: T, P, N. Each letter appeared to be engraved on its own rock in the ride’s rockslide.

Finn checked with and without the glasses. This was definitively their clue.

“Way to go! Okay, that’s it,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’re closer to the end than the start of the ride. It’s over this next rise. We’ll get off the tracks there without being seen by the cameras.”

“Okay. Let’s just go,” Finn said, wanting to be gone. Something wasn’t right here. He couldn’t identify what it was, but he felt it.

They struggled up the roller coaster track, for it was suddenly much slipperier than before.

“Almost there!” Philby called from the top.