Zeke and the Amber Riddle — Every evening, when the hot rubber smell curled over Arrowmile Drag Strip, Zeke rolled his dragster to the line and counted the tower lights under his breath. Pre-stage. Read the full story →
Every evening, when the hot rubber smell curled over Arrowmile Drag Strip, Zeke rolled his dragster to the line and counted the tower lights under his breath. Pre-stage. Stage. Ambers. Go. He wanted one perfect launch before the junior exhibition, but a tiny cheep kept cutting through his engine’s rumble right before the ambers flashed.
One day, the cheep came early. Because of that, Zeke waved off the run and coasted beside the tall light tower while dust ticked against his helmet. Because of that, the track crew opened panels, checked wires, and found nothing—until Zeke noticed the sound was not behind the bulbs, but above them, inside the flat sign nobody ever touched.
“Hand me the small wrench,” Zeke said. The sign popped loose with a squeak, and out tumbled a wind-up toy bird, its brass key still twitching. A note was tied to its wing: FOR THE DRIVER WHO LISTENS BEFORE HE BLASTS OFF. Zeke laughed so hard his gloves tapped the steering wheel. He set the bird on the Drag Strip sign, lined up again, and this time the only chirp came from the crowd as the ambers burned bright. Can you spot the place where the bird had been hiding while Zeke counted, Pre-stage, Stage, Ambers, Go?
