“Uh…no. I was looking at…at the bottom shelf. So you felt it?”
She shrugged. “Kind of. At first I thought it was just a big car driving by.”
“Just a car?” he said. It most
“Why are you even back here?” she asked.
“Just…uh…checking some books,” he said.
Her gaze dropped down to the paper in his hand. “What’s that?”
“What? This?” He held up the paper. She’d seen it. She’d actually seen it. It wasn’t something that only he could see. “I…” He paused. What was he going to say? That he ripped it out of a book that then disappeared? “It’s, um, trash. Someone left it back here. Thought I’d throw it away.”
“Well, whatever you’re trying to find, hurry up. We still have a lot of work to do.” She turned and walked away.
Peter, on the other hand, took a few steps toward Eric, tilted his head, and began sniffing the air.
Eric stood up, keeping his eyes on the bigger boy.
Peter continued down the aisle, his head swiveling back and forth, his nostrils flaring with each breath.
As he neared, Eric moved back until he bumped into the bookcase and could retreat no more.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Peter stopped a few feet away and sampled the air again.
“Hey, uh, that’s kind of weird,” Eric said.
The bully looked up at Eric, his eyes wide.
Eric took a big step backward. “I’ve got to…get back to my friend,” he said, then turned and ran the rest of the way down the aisle.
When he reached the end, he looked back. Peter had dropped to his hands and knees and was sniffing the area where the book had been before it vanished.
Not sure if he was more creeped out or confused, Eric made his way back to the study table. His plan was to grab his books and get out of there. He thought if he left now, he could probably get most of the way home before Peter even realized he was gone.
“Oh, no,” Maggie said as he started shoving his notebook in his backpack. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I gotta get home.”
She pushed her glasses all the way up her nose. “Eric Morrison, you’re going to sit down and help me work on this report. You
“I’m sorry, Maggie. Maybe…maybe we can get together tonight and finish it after dinner.”
“We’re already going to do that, remember? We need to work on it now
Eric sensed something move behind him. As he looked over his shoulder, he realized he’d lost his chance. Peter was back.
“Eric?” Maggie said.
He took a breath then put his backpack down. “Fine.”
“I thought you were going to throw that away,” she said.
“What?”
She pointed at the piece of paper — the page from the phonebook — he’d set on the table when he started packing up.
“Oh, right,” he said.
He picked it up, intending to take it to the trash, but glanced at the ad again.
But…what if it wasn’t? It wouldn’t hurt to call, would it?
There was a pay phone in the back of the library near the restrooms. He reached into his pocket to see how much change he had, then realized he’d spent the last of his money on his lunch. He leaned toward Maggie and whispered so Peter couldn’t hear, “Do you have some change?”
“What do you need change for?” she asked, suspicious.
“I need to make a call.”
Her face scrunched up. “Why do you need money to make a call?”
“Pay phones aren’t free.”
“Ugh! When are your parents going to buy you a cell phone?”
Despite the fact all his friends had one, Eric’s parents thought he was still too young. “Do you have change or not?”
She frowned at him, then reached into her backpack and pulled out some coins.
As she handed them over, he said, “I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I will.”
“Just go make your call,” she said. Then, as if she’d forgotten she should be mad at him, she added, “And hurry up. We’ve still got a lot to do.”
There was no one near the phone when he got there, so he pulled out the ad, stuck a couple coins in the slot, and started dialing. It wasn’t until he’d finished punching in the last of the digits that he realized it was too short for calling long distance and too long for local. The number on the ad was obviously a misprint.
Disappointed, he was starting to hang up when two odd things happened: 1) his coins fell into the change cup, and 2) the number he’d dialed began to ring.
Before he could decide what to do, someone answered.
“Hi. This is Trouble Family Services. The troubleshooting experts! You gotta problem, we gotta help.”
Eric suddenly found himself unable to speak.
“Hello?” the girl who’d answered said.
He tried to push a word — any word — out of his mouth, but his throat was clinched tight.
“Hello?”
He had the sudden desire to just hang up and forget he’d even found the ad.
“Hello, is anyone there?”
He drew in a deep breath.
“Ah, someone is there. Good,” the girl said. “Don’t worry. You’re not our first nervous client. But you can talk to me. I’m a friend.”
“Who…who is this?” Eric croaked.
“Excellent! You do know how to talk. I was getting worried that we might have gotten a really young one this time.” She paused. “Of course, I guess a young one wouldn’t have known how to dial…but you never know.” Again, she fell silent, this time like she was waiting for him to say something. “Oh, right. Who am I? Sorry. My name is Fiona and I am your point of contact representative.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re my what?”
“Your point of contact representative.”
“And what exactly is that?”
She said nothing for a moment, then, “Hold on, please.”
The line clicked, then music even his parents wouldn’t have listened to started to play. This went on for several seconds before it finally cut out mid-tune. Eric could hear papers moving around and then Fiona said, “I
