Probable Impossibilities

  * * * * *

  Whispers and stares followed me the rest of the day, but there were no further incidents.

  Gen waited by the bleachers when school got out.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have reacted to them. It was that stupid jab about the wookie that pushed me over the edge.”

  What could I say? She was defending me. “Don’t worry about it. You should have seen the look on Bertram’s face. Today was one possibility he hadn’t considered probable.”

  She giggled. By the time we walked home, her optimism had returned.

  Nate was at school that evening. With Mom at work and Dad in his grotto, Gen and I had the computer to ourselves to surf the net.

  She paused the video on her phone. “Let’s see if we can figure this guy out. Type in Jack Fontaine.”

  There were over 1,000 hits. I started scanning them. “Actor, dentist, lawyer, plumber.” After five pages I stopped. “None of these seem to be a professor or explorer.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Try Midtown University.”

  There it was. “Bingo,” I said and clicked on the first entry.

  She rested her chin on my shoulder as we scanned through the pages. “Looks like an online university. Click on staff.”

  “There’s only four. Peter Jones, Edmund Fitzsimmons, Jacques Fontaine, and Jillian Hubbard.”

  “Are they kidding?” she said. “Jack and Jill?”

  “And Peter and Ed,” I added.

  When I clicked on the names, only Jacques had a bio. The others came up with the message, Not Available. “That’s weird,” I said.

  “Try classes.”

  I clicked on the tab for registration. Down for Maintenance popped up on the screen.

  “This isn’t much of a website,” Gen said. “I’ll bet this is just a fake front. I hope it’s not downloading a virus.”

  Stifling a yell I shoved the cursor across the screen and closed the site. I didn’t want to explain a virus to Dad. I ran a quick virus scan and sighed with relief when it came up clean.

  “Maybe it’s a good site, just not fully operational yet,” I said.

  “Like the deathstar?” she asked.

  “Right. Let’s hope it doesn’t explode.”

  “So search for George Roge.”

  This only brought up the YouTube videos.

  “So what we have is an unknown blogger, a questionable university, and an obscure professor,” I said. “We still don’t know how they know about our woods.”

  “Maybe they’re local.”

  “Maybe it’s Doug and Josh leading us down the path.”

  She shook her head. “The Neanderthals don’t have what it takes to put those videos together. Elroy might, but he doesn’t have a motive. Besides, the video has a real person. What adult would go along with this kind of hoax?”

  Something about the whole thing kept tugging at my mind the rest of the evening. By the time I went to bed I was sick of it. I managed to push the thoughts aside and was just drifting off to sleep when it hit me. I sat up, wide-awake. Jack and Jill…Jacques and Jillian…it was Dad’s book.

  I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Gen. She must have been awake too because her reply came right back.

  No way.