The man gasps. “Only the most brilliant clothing and accessories designer in the world!” He comes closer, stepping over the shattered pieces of his desk, then picks up the end of my right sleeve and rubs the fabric in his hand. “Very good. Yes. Very good, indeed. Would you mind removing the jacket? I’d love to try it on.”
“Oh, um, sure.” It’s strange that anyone would be interested in this ugly thing except for maybe wanting to burn it and dance on the ashes. But then, this guy is comfortable wearing orange and brown feathers. I slide off the jacket and hand it to him.
He actually tries to put it on. He’s almost a foot taller than I am! No way it’ll fit.
But it does. Perfectly. My jaw drops. “How—?”
“Ah yes, it’s certainly authentic. Never can tell with so many knockoffs going around. But only genuine Duboises have the ‘one size fits all’ feature. Only way to be sure. The wife and I swear by them.” Mr. Ware gestures toward his own outfit. “My ensemble is from the tropical collection, ‘Essence of a Sandy Parrot.’ Now, you might be wondering why it is I have on vacation attire. I’ll explain. You see, we were on vacation, naturally, and having quite the time I should add, when I received an urgent message from my supervisor that a child had been added to the list and no one was in the office! You’re supposed to be able to count on your coworkers to pick up the slack when you’re on vacation—you’d expect that, wouldn’t you?”
“I—I guess. Can we get back to how my jacket—”
Mr. Ware throws up his hands. “Exactly! It’s a reasonable thing to expect! But not when Thesda Greengrass is your partner. Always going to pieces whenever one of her bloody cats gets taken away. Can’t understand why her neighbors might object to a tiger in the neighborhood. No use, though, she’ll have another by the end of the month. Can’t imagine where she gets them—”
“MR. WARE!” I interrupt. My ears are ready to explode.
“Yes?”
“My jacket,” I say. “How did it grow to fit you like that?”
“Why, a patented enchantment, of course. How else?”
“An enchantment?” I lift an eyebrow. “As in magic?”
“Yes.” Mr. Ware crosses his arms. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come by that suit, exactly?”
“It was in a briefcase,” I say. “My brother left it for me.”
“Ah,” says Mr. Ware. “I understand now. I take it this brother of yours is the first in the family to go into this line of work?”
“Probably. But I don’t really know what line of work this is.”
He strokes his chin again. “Normally I’m not one to bend the rules, but how can I turn away a child with such splendid taste in clothing? However unintentional.” He sighs. “Very well, have a seat.”
I do what he says. It’s pretty strange to be sitting across from someone over a pile of shattered desk pieces.
“It’s my job,” says Mr. Ware, “to offer you a spot in our rather unique summer camp. However, I can’t tell you very much about said summer camp until I get an answer as to whether or not you’ll take it. Think carefully. If you decide you’re not interested, then our meeting will end right here, and you can go back to doing whatever it was you planned to do with your life. It’s why we meet here in this office and not at the actual Bureau. But if you say yes, be warned that you will be obligated to attend this summer. Understand?”
I swallow and nod. “So the interview is just you asking if I’ll take the spot?”
“Indeed it is,” he says with a nod. “Would you rather it be more difficult? I can cook up some algebraic equations if you’d like.”
I shake my head quickly.
Mr. Ware chuckles. “And your answer?”
As much as I want to say yes, I can’t help thinking of Quinton right now. “My brother said what he was doing was dangerous. Is that true?”
At first, I think he won’t answer. But eventually he says, “It very well can be.”
I’m suddenly super nervous. Visions of disarming bombs and wrestling alligators sweep through my mind. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve said far too much already. I’m afraid I can offer nothing more until you’ve decided.”
Even if it is dangerous, Quinton wanted me to experience all the things that he did. When has he ever wanted anything but the best for me? Just the memory of those glittering trains lighting up the ocean sends a rush of excitement through me I can’t explain. And more than anything, this could be my only shot to find out what happened to him.
I meet Mr. Ware’s stare and say, “I accept.” And then hold my breath for whatever comes next.
6
MR. WARE LEAPS OUT OF HIS CHAIR AND SHAKES MY hand fiercely. “Congratulations! A fantastic decision. Always a pleasure to bring a fresh face into the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs.”
My hand is half numb by the time Mr. Ware releases it. But I have a much bigger worry. “Bureau of Supernatural Affairs?”
Mr. Ware grins. “Go to any corner of the world and you’ll find tales of beings and creatures that only seem possible in our imaginations. What if I told you that living among us are all the beings we’ve come to pass off as myth? Trolls and sphinxes, mermaids and oddities you could see with your own eyes and still not believe—these and countless more dwell in our towns and walk our streets. One might be your neighbor or even your favorite teacher. And not only that, many supernaturals have vast cities of their own hidden just off the beaten path. The Bureau of Supernatural Affairs is the link between the known world and what is hidden. We are charged with keeping the secret.”
I’m not totally sure I buy all that. An odd suit is one thing—hearing that creatures from books and movies might actually be real is something else. “Okay . . . so if that’s true, don’t people have the right to know if a werewolf is sitting next to them on the bus?”
“Thankfully, werewolves tend to be train people. But, yes, there is much in the supernatural world that is dangerous, and we do our very best to protect the innocent. As to your point about why, the supernatural world is kept secret for one very good reason. Peace of mind. People tend to fear what they don’t understand. And fear can far too easily become hatred. Why, the Great Bug Conflict of ’69 comes to mind. The Society of Sentient Insects had gone and invented ‘people repellent’ spray. You’d think a reasonable person would understand that turnabout is fair play, but you’d be surprised how quickly reason goes out the window when the bugs start spraying back. A particularly rough year for the Bureau, that one.”
I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “That’s not in any history book I’ve ever read.”
“We’re very good at what we do.” Mr. Ware smiles. “And we have been for a very long time.”
I’ll see for myself soon enough. Right now, there’s something that interests me more than myths or magic. “My brother is missing. Is there anything you can tell me about him? His name is—”
My recruiter jabs a finger into each ear. “The Bureau is not always the safest place to work. It’s likely that your brother worked in one of the more dangerous fields. I can’t say I know of anyone that’s died or gone missing. I very purposefully keep away from that sort of news. I’m the one who brings them in, you see. I’d take the news too hard.”