“What’s in the bags?” I ask.
“Oh, I just picked up a few things for you. I know they claim you don’t need to bring anything but, trust me, you’ll be glad. I grabbed you some new pajamas, all your hair products, ooh, those fuzzy socks you love . . .”
My ears automatically tune her out the moment I catch sight of the Best Buy bag. I scramble over and open it up, gasping once my eyes land on what’s inside. The sleek wooden box contains the cell phone I’ve wanted practically my whole life. It’s even the newest version.
“I thought we couldn’t afford for me to get a new cell phone?” I ask. In fact, how can we afford any of this stuff?
Mama just smiles. “I won’t have my daughter gone for most of the summer without a reliable way to keep in touch.”
“But Mama,” I say. She totally avoided my question.
She puts her hands on her hips. “Okay, I went to the payday loan place, but this won’t be like last time.”
I’m like a balloon with a brandnew hole, the way my excitement spills out of me. Last time Mama took out a loan, she had to use bill money to pay it back and we almost got kicked out of our apartment for missing rent.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Mama says, that familiar sadness creeping into her expression. “Just let me do something nice for you for once.”
I don’t have the heart to fight with her when she gets like this. So I just say “okay,” and force a smile.
Mama smiles too and then adds, “I had a little bit stashed away in case of an emergency, and seeing as the program offers a scholarship, I won’t have to put it toward your tuition next year.”
“The scholarship isn’t guaranteed,” I say. “There’s a chance I won’t get it.”
“You are my daughter and Quinton’s baby sister. Ain’t a chance in the world they won’t give you that scholarship.”
I open my mouth to remind her I’m not nearly as good at everything as Quinton is, but I stop myself. That would only make her sad again.
“Remind me—what time did you need to be there?” she asks.
“Six,” I say, glancing at the clock. It’s 4:07 p.m. “How long is the drive?”
“Oh, we’ve got plenty of time,” says Mama.
“Even with the big music festival going on downtown?”
“Is that tonight?” she asks. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. Traffic is going to be a nightmare.” We exchange a panicked look and make a mad dash to get ready.
Mama swears she can get us to the address on time as long as she sticks to her side roads and backstreets. These aren’t nearly as busy as the main roads but they are definitely way more . . . interesting than I remember.
First, Mama cuts off a man who waves a fist at us, except it’s not a fist but a paw. And he isn’t so much yelling at us as he is growling. My jaw drops and I turn to see what Mama makes of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice. It has to be the eye drops, right?
It gets weirder. A man waiting at the next bus stop is literally on fire, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Like, at all. He even lights a cigarette on his forehead. The lady that lets Mama turn in front of her? Snakes for hair. I try not to meet her eyes in case she decides it would be fun to turn me into stone, Medusastyle, but Mama just waves thanks and keeps on driving.
It isn’t until we spend the longest red light ever next to a dark alley filled with glowing eyes that I decide maybe I’ll just keep my own eyes inside the car from here on out.
I assumed supernaturals like Mrs. Walters were rare, but they’re all over the place, hiding in plain sight. As it hits me where I’m going, I can’t tell if I’m shaking with excitement or fear. Or maybe it’s a little of both. I’m about to be part of their world. The supernatural world. Something I didn’t even know existed two days ago.
I wish I could tell Mama about all of this. It doesn’t feel right to keep secrets from her. Especially secrets that are this big. But something tells me she wouldn’t be thrilled about her daughter going to the same secret agency that had something to do with her son going missing. Honestly, it makes me nervous too.
To keep myself from completely freaking out, I pull One Thousand and One Careers out of my bag. Only this time, thanks to those eye drops, every page is filled with words and pictures.
As I flip through it, Mama glances over and asks, “What’s that?”
I panic and slam it shut.
“No need to be so dramatic,” says Mama. “Is that your journal?”
Just that fast, I forgot that she isn’t able to read it. Keeping all this a secret is going to be harder than I thought. “It’s for camp this summer.” Avoiding the question feels better than not being honest.
Mama just shrugs and focuses on changing lanes.
I open the book again and flip through until I reach a page that catches my eye. It’s a fullpage photo of a bulky, bearded guy in a cowboy hat, decked out in a dark gray suit. He’s aiming a flaming ax toward the camera and his gray eyes are so intense it’s like he’s daring me to turn the page without reading first. So I read.
The caption says, “The closest thing to a superhero in the supernatural world. Join Agent Beauregarde Magnus at the Department of Supernatural Investigations and start your journey toward becoming a Special Agent today!”
On the opposite page is a job listing:
DEPARTMENT OF SUPERNATURAL INVESTIGATIONS
Junior Agent
Minimum badge allowed to perform this job: Bronze
Chief Responsibilities: To serve and protect both humans and non-humans alike against supernatural threats, foreign and domestic. Enforcement of the laws that govern supernatural entities living in the known world. Those who excel in this position may be promoted to Senior Agents, Surveillance Agents, Special Agents, and more.
Noteworthy Agents: Beowulf, Captain Ahab, Abraham Van Helsing, Captain Nemo, Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde (part-time researcher/part-time agent), Sherlock Holmes, Maria Van Helsing, and Quinton Peters
I can’t believe it! Quinton’s an agent. Just like this guy in the picture. Of all the crazy things I’ve learned, this might be the craziest. Agent Magnus looks like the person you’d call if a bear got loose at the zoo. Quinton is afraid of spiders. Even the tiny ones.
As the clock on the dashboard blinks to 5:26, a question pops into my head. “Mama, how much do you know about this summer camp?”
“It’s a really fancy leadership camp,” says Mama. “You guys take classes and go on trips to meet with CEOs and government leaders. Plus you’ll get to mingle and make friends with other high achievers. These kinds of programs will really pay off later as an adult. When it comes down to getting those cushy jobs, it’s not what you know but who you know.”
So Mama thinks this is just a leadership camp. That must be what they told her when she called. And what Quinton used to tell her too.
“Just make me a promise, okay?” Mama continues. “Promise me you’ll go to college. You won’t follow Quinton into whatever he was doing.”
“So you think this, um, program had something to do with Quinton going missing?”
“Of course not,” says Mama, “or I wouldn’t let you near it. I don’t know what could’ve happened to your brother. I just want you to use this program to get into a good university somewhere and live a safe and happy life.”