Нил Шустерман: The Schwa Was Here

There are schwas drawn in the restaurant’s bathrooms that I didn’t put there.

In fact, there are schwas everywhere now. I got a call from Ira during spring break. He was on vacation in Hawaii, and he called to tell me he saw one scribbled across a DANGER, HOT LAVA sign. They’ve got them clear across the country—maybe clear around the world. There’s got to be hundreds of people doing it. No one knows who draws them, or why, but now they’re a they’re a permanent part of the landscape. Howie has a theory that involves aliens and cosmic string theory, but trust me, you don’t want to hear it.

The Schwa Was Here. Just a few of us know what it really means, and nobody believes me when I tell them that I started it. But that’s okay. I can handle being anonymous.

As for the Schwa himself, I never saw him again—but I did get a letter. It came in August, more than six months after he pulled his disappearing act.

Dear Antsy,

I guess you thought I vanished into thin air, huh? Did you freak? You’re smart, though, you probably figured out where I went—and guess what? I found her! My mom was in Florida after all. I got to Key West just as she was getting ready to move on. I told her she owed me big, and she agreed, so she took me along with her. She’s not what I expected. She knows lots of stuff. She even taught me to scuba dive—and I can get really close to the fish because—get this— they don’t notice I’m there.

Say hello to everyone for me. I won’t forget you if you promise not to forget me!

Your friend, Calvin

Clipped to the letter was a photo of the Schwa and his mom on a tropical beach. She didn’t look like the unhappy woman the Night Butcher had described. The Schwa almost had a tan in the picture, if you can believe that, and he had a smile on his face as wide as the one on his billboard.

I had to smile, too. The postmark was from Puerto Rico, but the paper clip had been to the moon.

novels have been honored with awards from the International Reading Association, the American Library Association, and readers in many states. His novels span several genres, from humor to suspense thrillers to science fiction.

Of The Schwa Was Here, he says: “The idea came to me in the middle of an author visit. I was answering questions in a school library when a teacher pointed out a boy who had had his hand up the whole time, and I hadn’t noticed. He was sitting in front of the library’s big dictionary, and I made this odd connection: The kid was unnoticeable—like a ’schwa’ in the dictionary.”

Mr. Shusterman lives in Southern California with his four children. Visit his Web site at www.storyman.com.