Michael Ford - Z

When Firecracker was done, the class applauded. Firecracker took a deep bow, waving to his audience and hamming it up. Josh couldn’t help but laugh. They were going to get a great grade, he just knew it.

With the presentations over, Ms. Darjeeling resumed control of the class. “I have to say, I’m very impressed with your work on these projects,” she told them. “I’m sending your grades to your NoteTakers. If you have any questions about them, please see me after class.”

She punched a sequence of numbers into the control panel on her desk, and all around the room NoteTakers made the chiming sound that indicated the arrival of a transmission. Josh clicked on his message box and looked for his grade.

When he saw it, his heart skipped a beat. He’d expected a B-plus or at worst a B. He’d gotten a D.

“I got an A,” Firecracker said. “Score one for me. What did you get?”

“Not an A,” Josh said.

Firecracker looked at Josh’s screen. “A D?” he said loudly enough for several people to look over at them. “Our final grade is based on both our scores. That means we’re getting a…”

“C-plus,” said Josh as Firecracker tried to figure out the answer in his head.

“A C-plus,” Firecracker agreed.

“A C-plus isn’t that bad,” said Josh, trying to reassure his friend.

“It’s not an A,” Firecracker shot back.

“I’m sorry,” said Josh. “I don’t know what happened. I thought I did an okay job.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you didn’t,” Firecracker said, slumping in his seat. “Thanks a lot, partner.”

“I’m sorry,” Josh said again. But Firecracker wouldn’t even look at him.

“What’s the matter, cowboy?”

Josh looked up. Charlie was standing in front of him on the train. “What are you doing here?” he asked her, looking around.

“Relax,” Charlie said. “Your friend isn’t here.”

“Did you follow me?” Josh said.

Charlie smiled. “Why would I do that?” she replied. She took the seat next to Josh. “Okay, maybe I did. But I’m not stalking you or anything. I just wanted to see if you could come over tonight.”

“Come over?” Josh repeated.

“To my house,” Charlie clarified. “I thought we could go over the maps for tomorrow.”

Josh shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “Tonight is family night.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Family night,” she said. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah. Well.” Josh shrugged. He didn’t want to tell Charlie he was actually looking forward to mini golf. Or at least he had been, until he’d gotten the grade on his report. Now he didn’t really feel like doing anything.

“This is a big game for you,” Charlie reminded him. “And Location Four isn’t the easiest field to play. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Josh started to assure her that he was, but found himself saying, “Actually, no. I’m not sure at all. I tried to memorize the maps last night, but I had to do this report for school, and it got late and—”

“You’re coming over,” Charlie interrupted him. “Just tell your parents you have to do something else tonight.”

“Like what?” said Josh.

Charlie thought for a moment, biting her lip and frowning. “Tell them you’re volunteering for something,” she said. “Tonight is orientation, and tomorrow is your first day. That gives you an out for both days. And whenever we have a game, you can say you have to volunteer.”

“I don’t know,” Josh hedged. “I don’t think they’d buy it.”

“Tell them it’s for school credit,” said Charlie.

Josh thought about it. “That might work,” he agreed. “But I need to think of a realistic group to volunteer for.”

“The homeless,” said Charlie. “You’re helping the homeless. That’s perfect. You can tell them the group works all over the city; that way they won’t ever expect you to be in any one place.”

Josh knew Charlie was right that he was going to need a good excuse for spending time away from home. He took a deep breath, then dialed his mother’s number at work and told her what he was supposedly doing.

“That went well,” Charlie remarked when Josh ended the call.

“I lucked out,” said Josh. “She was distracted. One of the gryphons bit someone.”

“Gryphons?” Charlie said.

“She’s a biologist,” Josh explained. “A cloner. She makes imaginary animals. I mean she makes imaginary animals real.”

“I get it,” said Charlie. “Cool. What does your dad do?”

“He’s a doctor too,” said Josh. “The normal kind. You know, shots and checkups and stuff.”

“Wow,” Charlie said. “Two brainiacs for parents. Did you inherit their superbrains?”

Josh laughed. “Not so much,” he said. “My sister Emily is the smart one. She’s actually scary smart. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, but not super good at any of them.”

“Except torching,” Charlie reminded him.

“Except that,” Josh agreed. “So what do your parents—”

“This is our stop,” said Charlie, interrupting. She stood up as the doors opened, and she and Josh hopped off. Charlie pointed to a train on the other side of the platform. “Come on,” she said. “That’s the one we want.”

The second train took them diagonally across the city, going underground for most of the way and then emerging into daylight and climbing up onto the elevated tracks. Below them Josh saw the squat, brown brick houses of Old Town. The steel supports of the elevated train stuck up like the legs of giant birds from the tangle of homes.

Old Town occupied the northeast corner of the city. Most of the houses were the original ones built hundreds of years before by the settlers who discovered the land. They were all built with bricks made from local clay, which gave them their brown color. Josh had been there a few times, mainly to visit the Museum of City History on school trips. But he didn’t know anyone who lived there.

“Here we are,” Charlie said as the train came to a stop. They exited onto a platform high above the street and headed for the stairs.

They walked to Charlie’s house, passing lots of cafes where people sat drinking, smoking, and talking loudly. Then they turned a corner and came to a house that looked just like all the other houses in the neighborhood, with one notable difference; the front gate was made of wrought iron and topped with a big black bird whose eyes—made of copper—seemed to stare at Josh menacingly.

“My dad made it,” Charlie said, as if she was used to explaining the bird. “He’s a sculptor. Iron, mostly.”

“It’s cool,” Josh said, but the truth was that he found the bird more than a little creepy.

They went up a short flight of steps to the front door, and as they stepped inside Charlie called out, “Dad?”

There was no answer.

“Come up to my room,” Charlie said, heading for a set of stairs.

Josh followed her. The wood of the stairs was old and well worn. Centuries of use had made the wood smooth, and there were deeper indentations in the center of each step where people had most often placed their feet.

“This is my dad’s studio,” Charlie said as they arrived at the second floor. It was one huge space, with bare brick walls and a floor covered with white canvas cloths. A workbench cluttered with tools lined one wall, and in the center of the room stood a sculpture made of bits and pieces of metal, all welded together to form what looked like a human figure. But something was wrong with it. It was twisted, the arms seeming to reach out to grab something.

“My bedroom is on the third floor,” Charlie said, walking past the sculpture without looking at it. They went up another flight of stairs and down a hallway. “That’s my dad’s room,” Charlie said as they passed a closed door. “This is mine.” She opened a door on the opposite side of the hall and went inside. The room also had bare brick walls, and at one end, farthest from the windows, a huge bed made out of iron stood against the wall.