~~~

  Second period English class did not go quite as well. Twenty minutes into class while the teacher was finishing up a comparison of the “West Side Story” movie they’d watched over last week and “Romeo and Juliet” that they had spent the semester reading, a TA from the main office entered the room and cleared her throat. Josh recognized her as Tara, an eighth grader from his neighborhood that could hardly be bothered to give him the time of day, let alone look at him on the bus. But as she walked to the front of the room to hand Mrs. Everstein the slip of paper she made a point of catching his eye and scowling.

  “Oh!” Mrs. E said. “Josh? You’re wanted at the office…urgently. Better take your coat and backpack just in case.”

  It took a second for Joshua to realize it was he to whom Mrs. E was speaking. But he slid his book into his bag and got up to go, all while Tara stood at the classroom door tapping her feet. Josh barely noticed his teacher seemed to be at a loss for words and the students all eying him sourly, not sure whether they should despise him for making trouble or envy him for getting out of the lecture by Mrs. Everstein.

  Once inside the hallway, Tara walked quickly, making it difficult for Josh to keep pace.

  “Wait,” Josh asked, “I’ve got to grab my coat in my locker.”

  “No you don’t, squirt!” She hissed at him.

  “Yes I do! You heard Mrs. Everstein!”

  “You need to get to the front office right now!” she growled, grabbing his upper arm tightly and attempting to drag him along. “I don’t know if they caught you building a nuclear reactor or what, but you’ve got some weirdo secret government agent here looking for you. You’re in big trouble now, freshman!”

  Joshua never did understand how a sixth grader could be a “freshman” when high school didn’t even start until ninth grade. Still, that was the lowest form of addressing a sixth grader from an eighth-grade perspective in Boulan Middle, and Tara was definitely one to use it freely.

  They hustled to the main office. The door and reception area were encased with glass windows and the back side of the office too, such that they could look right through where the receptionist sat and see inside the administrative courtyard where snow was falling heavily. Boulan Middle School had been arranged entirely indoors in three by three blocks of rooms so that hallways ran all the way around each block set, making a sort of tic tac toe pattern if viewed from above. The Administration office was the center block and three sides of it had a glass wall into a section that had no roof. A tree and some plants grew in there along a little walkway between the reception area and the principal’s office and it was a very pretty effect in an otherwise prison-feeling environment. However, it also allowed a handsome, young man wearing dark glasses and black suit to see Josh coming alongside Tara and he rose to meet them long before they came in the glass door.

  As they entered, the man in black quickly snatched Josh’s right hand from his side and shook it two times briefly. “Joshua Manders? I’m very pleased to meet you. My name is Peter Samuel. I am an agent…”

  But he was cut off. Mrs. Belfaust, the receptionist for the school, cleared her throat and announced, “Mr. Fisker will see both of you in his office now. And please remember Mr. Samuel, you have no permission to interview Joshua until his parents arrive.”

  “My parents are coming?” Josh asked looking at Mrs. Belfaust, but it was Mr. Samuel who answered.

  “Yes. They won’t let me talk to you until your parents grant permission. I’ve told them you aren’t in any trouble, and I’m not with the government…”

  “All the more reason for restricting you until he has his parents’ permission, Mr. Samuel,” the receptionist got in edge-wise one last time before the pair was making their way through the hallway to the principal’s office.

  Tara had been left standing at the reception desk, looking perplexed and somewhat miffed that she didn’t get to hear what all the hub-bub was about.

  Mr. Samuel leaned over and quietly said to Josh before opening Mr. F’s door, “They’ve already confirmed my position, but… everyone’s suspicious when you show up unannounced, aren’t they?”

  Startled, Josh looked quickly to the man in black’s face. His dark glasses were tipped down to his nose and Josh just caught him giving a wink.

  “Who are you?” Josh mumbled breathlessly, but then they were being welcomed by Mr. Fisker.

  “Come in, both of you!” Mr. F said warmly as he gestured to a couple chairs around his desk.

  Josh always like Mr. F since he and his parents first met him on the school tour before the year started. He was balding, but had huge round glasses and a smile that made him seem like a friendly uncle or grandfather. Joshua had never heard him get really angry and usually when he was chewing out someone in trouble he’d say something funny to ease the tension. Like the time when several eighth graders were riding skateboards outside the front of the school and harassing Josh while he waited for his Mom to pick him up. Mr. Fisker had come outside and stood atop one of the planters. He said to the eighth-graders, “You know the rules!” and then with a huge wave of both hands as though he were parting the red sea or performing a grand magical act he yelled, “Boys, DISPERSE!” When the eighth-graders went riding away from the school on the boards chuckling a bit, Mr. F turned to Josh, smiling, and said, “See, you’ve just got to be super authoritative with hooligans. Good day, Master Manders.” And then he went back inside. Josh’s mother had tried to ask what it was he was smiling so much about that day when she drove him home, but every time he tried to explain it in a way that didn’t seem an embarrassment to Mr. F he would start giggling and couldn’t get the explanation out.

  “Well then,” Mr. Fisker started out once they had all sat down. “I want you to understand, Joshua that you aren’t in any trouble. Is that correct, Mr. Samuel?”

  “Yes, quite correct.” The young man removed his dark glasses and gave Josh a pleasant smile that didn’t seem entirely sincere.

  “Ah! But I should have thought of it already! Would either of you two like some hot cocoa? It is snowing outside and it’s almost Christmas.”

  Mr. Samuel nodded enthusiastically and by way of catching Josh’s eye encouraged the boy to do the same.

  “Alright then. Just give me two minutes and we’ll have something tasty while we wait for your mother, Joshua,” Mr. F said leaving the room.

  Then Mr. Samuel moved. He leaned in very close, so close that Josh felt awkward and tried to lean away from him to get a little personal space. He placed his left arm around the back of Josh’s chair and the palm of his hand on the principal’s desk in front of them, and then looked into Josh’s eyes with intensity.

  “Josh. We have two minutes. I’ve got to make this quick. I need you to trust me so if you have any questions ask them quickly too.”

  “Uh…okay…” Josh stammered.

  “Listen. I am an agent from an organization that tracks and collects artifacts that are…well, for lack of a better understanding behind the science of them, magical.”

  Instantly Josh was uncomfortable. This man was crazy.

  “No, it’s true,” Mr. Samuel said, hurt by the distrust showing in the young boy’s face. “But never mind that now. Did you or did you not contact Special Agent Davison about seeing what you believe to be a yeti?”

  “Davison?” Josh thought out loud. “Do you mean that Special Agent D on the forums?”

  “Forums?” Now it was Agent Samuel’s turn to be perplexed. He sat back in his chair looking somewhat thwarted. “Agent Davison didn’t mention any forum. I might have to check that with him. But he said he got a message from you about yeti. Is that correct or not?”

  “Well,” Josh tried to stall for time but had a tough time doing it. Wasn’t he supposed to wait for his mother? “Yeah. I guess I did. But…it was just a joke.”

  Samuel tapped his lip with one arm of his dark glasses. “Hmmm. Cleve
r boy. I don’t think you thought it was a joke.”

  “No?” Josh was still stalling for time.

  “No, and here’s why. You said the yeti were small. Maybe even kind of “cute” in your words. But when you surprised it, the yeti grew many times in size. Is that not what you said in your message?”

  “Well. Maybe.” Josh didn’t quite know what to think about this intense guy in a plain black suit. It was all just a little too weird, like something out of a movie.

  Samuel leaned in close again. “Let me tell you something. Most people would not suggest a Yeti, or a Sasquatch were only one foot tall beings unless they’d actually seen one. You’ve actually seen one, haven’t you?”

  Josh wasn’t sure how to respond. He was really feeling like his mother should be there before he got himself dug into something he couldn’t get back out of. But Samuel was grinning, apparently very pleased to have made the confirmation.

  “Alright, then. We have to have a plan. If you don’t trust me right now, that’s fine. We’ll work on it. But I need your help to track down those Yeti. We think something big is going on with their migration this year and we can’t afford to let something bad happen without planning for it.”

  Josh nodded, but not really in agreement. He just did it because Samuel seemed to be expecting it.

  “Right. So what I’ve done is had our offices prepare a communication from the Michigan State Board of Education. Basically, I’m here to present it to you in person. It’s also going to be an invitation to attend a little student summit on education. I need you to go along with everything I say. Can you do that?”

  Josh didn’t respond, other than to give Mr. Samuel a cock-eyed look.

  “Did I mention this may get you out of the last few days of school before the holiday break?”

  Josh whispered to Mr. Samuel, “Who the heck are you?”

  But then Mr. Fisker was at the door awkwardly trying to open it while holding three mugs full of very hot cocoa.

  “Well, why don’t we get to know each other just a bit, before Mom arrives?” Mr. F started as the three sipped their cups.

  “Sure,” Mr. Samuel said with a cheerful smile. “Why don’t I start since I’m the visitor here.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” the principal responded with a sip of his cocoa. “But…perhaps not too much detail until Joshua’s mother arrives?”

  “Of course,” the man in black said. “Well, I want to let you know first of all that the only reason I have been sent from the State Board of Education is because we’ve had a tough time getting ahold of you at home, Joshua. Perhaps we had a bad address on your essay submission? Is it possible you may have reversed a number or something?

  When Josh looked at Mr. Samuel curiously, he saw a nearly imperceptible nod on the part of the odd man. That must have been the playing-along that he expected from Joshua. So Josh agreed.

  As the conversation continued it became clear to Josh that Mr. Fisker was actually just stalling for his mother’s arrival. But on the other hand, it appeared Mr. Samuel was just as willing to play the game. And since Joshua was both curious and confused about why this man had come for him he decided to play it out. Josh didn’t think he could be dangerous because he had arrived through the school office, had been checked out, and was happy to await his parents. But he wondered why it was he felt he was going to have to deceive his parents to find out the answers.

  Soon, Mr. F’s desk phone made a peculiar buzz and the receptionist’s voice came through, “Mr. Fisker, Josh’s mother is here. Shall I send her in?”

  “Please do,” the principal replied pleasantly, and then sat back in his chair and took a sip.

  It was only a few seconds before Mom opened the door and stepped in with curiosity splattered across her confused face. Neither Mr. Samuel nor Mr. Fisker seemed uncomfortable with the pause or her awkward entrance but Josh sure did.

  As she sat down, Joshua’s mother asked, “So…who can tell me what’s going on here the most quickly? Did I understand Josh has won an award that means a trip up north?”

  Principal Fisker cleared his throat, but Samuel answered first. “I think I can answer all your questions best Mrs. Anderson,” he offered, while pulling something from his suit coat inner pocket.

  In a slow motion second Mr. Samuel had caught Josh’s eye and tightly closed both of his eyes only briefly and then stared at the young boy. Josh took that as a cue and closed both of his eyes, while Samuel raised something up in the air. With a quick swish downwards and a little breeze washing over him Josh realized Mr. Samuel had just done something to both of the other occupants of the office. He could not hear them talking, moving or even breathing.

  “You can open your eyes now, Josh,” the man in black said.

  When Joshua did, he noted that whatever Mr. Samuel had used was quickly being stored back in his pocket. Looking about the office, Mr. Fisker seemed to be frozen looking cross-eyed into his hot cocoa cup and Josh’s mother was staring directly at Mr. Samuel with one eyebrow raised and her mouth crooked as though she were about to say something.

  “Wow!” Josh breathed out quietly. “What did you do, Mr. Samuel?”

  “Actually,” the man said, tugging his cuffs straight and smiling at the boy pleasantly, “I’m an agent of the Institute for the Preservation of Magical Artifacts. So I suppose you should actually call me…”

  “You’re not with the school board then?” Josh interrupted.

  “…Agent Samuel. And no, I’m not.”

  “So, what happened to my mom and Mr. F?”

  “If I told you, I’m not entirely sure you’re ready to hear,” the agent replied, scowling a bit.

  “Oh, I am! I’m ready! …They’re going to be okay aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they’ll be fine in a few more minutes. But did you understand me when I said I’m from IPMA? Do you know what that means?”

  Josh thought for a moment pondering. “That…you study magic?”

  The agent laughed a little genuinely. “I supposed you could say that. But it means I also use a little bit of magic when necessary.”

  Looking thoughtfully around the room, Josh came to the right conclusion. “So…you magicked them?”

  “I don’t think that’s really a word, Joshua. But yes. I magicked them.”

  Josh’s response was a muted “Wow!”

  Then Agent Samuel explained that he had used a magical device which consisted of the components of two different roots that only certain faeries had access to and which he used to both freeze them and to change their memories a bit. Both adults were still stuck in their position and he had to reassure Joshua that they’d be fine.

  “They will awake thinking your mother is here to sign the final authorizations for you to attend a student summit up in Lansing. She, and by her knowledge your dad too, will think that you’ve been selected for a state competition on creative writing.”

  Agent Samuel flopped a manila folder on Mr. F’s desk as he got up from his chair.

  “It’s time for us to go. Before they wake up.”

  “But…” Josh hesitated. “I can’t just go with you.”

  “Sure you can. I need your help tracking down that Yeti you saw, and we have everything you will need for the trip. I’ve arranged for your parents to be comfortable with your absence, and…I’ll even have you back on time for your holiday break.”

  Track down that Yeti I saw, he thought. At least now he knew both what brought Agent Samuel to him as well as what it was he was looking at with some level of assurance…if he could trust that Agent Samuel was telling him the truth. This might be a chance to have a real adventure and satisfy his curiosity at the same time. But if Mom and Dad ever found out what he was really doing they’d have a flippin’ flyin’ fit, he realized.

  Josh stood up, but before he followed he asked, “How do I know I can even trust you? How do I know you’re not here to abduct
me?”

  Agent Samuel put his hands on his hips and thought about the question for a half a second. Then he gestured to the two other adults in the office with his right hand. “Shouldn’t they convince you that I’m using magic? If so, you’d think you could probably trust my story.”

  “I don’t even believe in magic, really!” Josh said a little bit loudly and his voice cracked a bit.

  “Oh? Really?” Agent S. grimaced. “I supposed next you’re going to tell me there’s no Santa Claus either? C’mon, we need to hurry.”

  Apparently Agent Samuel had made the assumption Josh was in for the investigation regardless. And he was, truthfully. But he got in one more quip before he reluctantly followed the agent out the door. “No…And I don’t believe in aliens either.”

  He heard Agent Samuel grumble under his breath. “That’s fine. That’s another agency altogether anyway.”