Dear Parents,
Please be sure to tell your children to prep their summer vacation stories. We are expecting to go all day with presentations, so if your child wishes to make their presentation longer, we are happy to oblige. We encourage photos when possible. You can either give this to your child to accomplish on their own, or you can help them with their presentation. A child will only be graded on whether or not the presentation is complete.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Coy
Second Grade Teacher
* * * *
My mom came at three in the morning. She never uses the front door when she visits anymore. Dad says she’s not supposed to come through that door.
He says, “Terrance, if she ever knocks on that door, you lock it. You do not let her come in through that door, you understand?”
So when my mom comes in through the window, I’m thankful it’s not the front door. I miss seeing her. She was around all the time, but then Dad says she had to go with the police; secret agent style. Well, he never says she's a secret agent, but I figure it sounds right. Why else would a mom come into the house at three in the morning?
She tells me we’re escaping. She says, “Terrance, your dad doesn’t want me to show you the world. But we’re going – tonight, now.”
She tells me to grab a suitcase and gather my things. Mom's glancing out the window like someone’s moving in the bushes. She’s all nervous, but I don’t know why.
The world is probably a scary place, which is why Dad won’t let me see it. He’s always been worried about this and that. That’s what Mom says, anyway; that Dad’s worried about this and that.
But my mom wants me to see everything! I had to go with her; it was everything after all. When I was little, she always told me, “Terrance, you don’t know what’s out there.” She’d point at the stars. “No one knows, except me.” She would put on a hat that made her look like a pirate robot. She'd say, “Some day, Terrance, I’ll teach you everything.”
She’s going to show me everything! I get excited because it's my mom. She's the woman who knows everything and is a secret agent ninja.
I ask her, “Can Dad come too?”
She shushes me and looks down the hallway. “Terrance... just me and you, remember?”
I nod because I do. She says Dad isn’t as smart as us – that he won’t understand. She's told me this, so I know Dad doesn't understand the world like my mom does.
We pack, and I grab Ducky – I mean, I grab my bag, and my mom flies out the window.
I lean off the windowsill and look down at her. We only have one floor, but my room has the highest window. It looks like a long fall.
Mom holds her hands out, “I’ll catch you, Terrance.” She says, “I promise.” So far, my mom hasn’t broken any promises. So I jump out the window, and she scoops me up.
When we reach the car, the lights in my room come on. Dad’s at the window screaming something. I wave from the backseat as Mom slams the door. His face is as red as a tomato – I don’t really like tomatoes.
Mom jumps into the front seat and gives me a smile. The engine roars to life. This isn't our normal car; the seats smell like the doctor's office. The tires squeal as we head down the street. Mom glances at me in the mirror. “Terrance, you know how much I love your name, but I think we may need to change it, just for the summer, okay?”
I get a little sad. I like my name, and I don’t know what else to call myself.
“Anything you want.” Her eyes fall back on the road.
I think about it for a long time while she’s driving. If you could rename yourself – would you?
I ask her, “Anything?”
“Anything,” she says.
“Hippo.”
“What?”
I look out the window, “I've always wanted to be a hippopotamus.”
“Okay,” she breathes. “Full name… Hippothatius, okay?” She gives me a last look in the mirror. “Oh, and Terrance?”
I don’t answer her, because that’s not my name anymore.
“Hippo?” I glance up. “I’m going to call you Thatius in public. But we’ll go by Hippo when we’re alone. Our secret – okay?” I nod because secret agent ninjas all have secrets. And now I have one.
“Are you changing your name too, Mom?”
“Nope, still just Mom.”
“That’s boring,” I say and cross my arms.
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow. “Tell me, Hippo, what would you prefer?”
“Parakeet.”
“What?” She says, her face is starting to look like a tomato. Do I look like a tomato sometimes too?
She used to get that face all the time when I refused to eat spinach. “Terrance, it’s good for you, like Pop Eye.”
“I don’t want popeye. Dad says that’s what killed Lily.” Lily was our goldfish.
She glared at Dad with the eat-your-spinach look. He shrugged. But that was before she became a secret agent pirate ninja.
“I think parakeets look pretty,” I hold out my arms. “I love their wings!” I flap for a second, and her eyes light up in the mirror.
She thinks it over, “How about Lorikeet? And Lora in public?”
“What’s a lorikeet?”
“A bigger, greener parakeet.”
I like green, when it's not a vegetable, and I like this game, so I smile.
When my mom stops the car, it's almost light outside. The sun must be low in the sky, because I can’t see it over the tall buildings. We must be far away, because our town doesn’t look like this. The building is made of brick and looks as thick as it is tall. I've never seen a building so big, except the doctor's office. And that's still small.
My mom turns to me, “Terrance… sorry, Hippo, you have to wait here. Mom needs to get some papers so we can travel, okay?”
"Lori," I remind her.
"What?"
"You said, 'Mom needs to.' But you should have said, 'Lori needs to.'" I grin.
She doesn't even smile. "Sorry, Terrance. I forgot. It will just be a second, okay?"
I nod even though she forgot my new name and watch her as she rushes up to the building. She knocks on a door that sounds like metal when it’s being hit. I don’t think I have ever seen a metal door outside of school. There’s a little window eye level with my mom, but I can’t see through it.
I hear some noises that sound like my tummy when I’m hungry, and the door slides open. My mom glances down the street and smiles at me before entering the dark building. She’s a secret agent ninja pirate, so I’m not worried. She’ll be fine – my lorikeet mother.
I hum the song to myself that goes like this: “Hmm, hm hm hmmm hmm hm hmmhm.”
The door slides back open, and my mom appears. Her hair is messier, like she just woke up, which is silly because we've been awake for awhile. She gets into the car and slams the door. She eyes me in the mirror. “I got your papers, Hippo.”
“Why do I need papers?” I don't like the idea of needing papers. I don't understand why people need them.
“Don’t worry, everyone needs them where we're going.”
“Where’s that?”
“France. A country in Europe – you’ve heard of it, right?” She starts the car, and we head away from the huge buildings. She turns onto a street, and the car rocks hard as we hit the pavement.
“Your rope. I remember hearing about that in class.” I nod.
She laughs, “No, not your rope, Europe. It’s E-U-R-O-P-E.”
I think about this. “That’s a strange name. France sounds nice though.” I place my head on the glass and yawn. The window is cold, and I can hear the wind zooming by as we head onto the highway. My mother's dark curls blend together as my eyes droop.
I want to tell my mom that I’m tired, but instead another yawn comes out. I fall asleep. Next thing I know, she is standing over me. She shakes me awake, “Terrance, we’re here.”
I blink awake as the sky roars. I see a giant plane fly over head, and my eyes go wide. I had never seen a plane before. My dad never wanted me to fly, and we live so far away from the airport. I had seen the ones in the sky of course, but they were just little dots. Not huge, not like this.
My mother lifts me up, and I grab Ducky – I mean, I grab my bag, and my mom and I are off. We rush into the airport, and she slaps down money on the counter in front of the smiley woman in blue. The smiley woman looks at us, “It’s going to be a bit more than that, I’m afraid.” Her fingernails clack across her keyboard.
“If you want the next flight to France, you'll need two hundred more dollars.” I stare at her and my mom. Two hundred dollars? I lose track counting on my fingers. I only get a dollar a week for an allowance, how does my mom have that much money?
My mother nods and passes over a wad of cash. It’s bigger than all my allowances combined. I wonder where she got the money, and I want to ask her, so I tug on her arm.
“Hold on, Thatius.”
I cross my arms, because I don’t really like that name. And I really hate it when my mom ignores me like that. She doesn’t do it often, but when she does, she tells me it’s because the big kids are talking. Why do adults call themselves that? Big kids? It doesn’t make any sense, why would you want to be a kid forever? Adults always telling you what to do, making you eat foods you don’t like. No, I’d rather not be a big kid, but an adult instead.
When my mom has more papers in her hands, she holds them up to me. I can't read fast enough to understand the words before she takes them away. “Tickets, Thatius. Tickets to France, Paris.”
“Paree?”
“Oui – that means ‘yes’ in French. Paree is Paris, in French. All French words are sing-songy. It’s a magical language.”
“You know French?” I drag my bag behind me and try to fall instep with her, but her legs are too long. “Mom!”
She stops and gazes back at me, “Well? Step lively, we have so much to see.” She passes her papers to a man in a blue uniform. He holds the papers up to a neon blue light.
“What does that do?”
My mom smiles at me; so does the man in the uniform. “It makes sure the papers are real.” He nods and tips his hat. The man hands the papers back to us. “Nice to meet you, Lora.”
I giggle a little, because that’s not my mom’s name, and we have a secret. My mom takes our bags and puts them on a conveyor belt. They go through a huge machine that clunks and churns out angry robot sounds. I wonder if my mother has ever fought any angry robots in her super secret agent missions. I want to ask my mom all about the planes and the airport and everything that’s going on, but I can tell by the way the guards look at us that we’re not welcome.
“Why does everyone look sad?” I whisper to her after she puts her shoes on the belt. I start to take my shoes off, and my mother shakes her head.
“You don’t have to take those off, you’re under age. And they aren’t sad, they have serious work.”
“Like you?”
She lowers her voice, “Like me.” We smile at each other because now I feel like a secret agent ninja pirate too. I’ve always wanted to be one. I think it would be neat to spy on people. My mom never told me that she was a secret agent, but when I asked her about the police, she told me it was top secret and winked.
I figured it out after that. I know she is a secret agent, and she never denies it. We don’t need to talk about it because I understand. Secret agents can’t talk about their secret agentness; then everyone would know. That's not how being a secret agent works.
I have to stand between a weird looking gray booth and put my arms above my head. A guard tells me I can go through. I think this is why my dad doesn’t want me to travel. It seems scary. He says scary things are usually dangerous. But my mother gives me a squeeze on the shoulder as we pick up our things. I look up at her, and she’s smiling at me.
“Only a little longer until we’re there. You’ll be able to see everything.” She hands me my backpack, and we’re walking along quicker than before.
A lady on the loudspeaker says, “Last call flight number.” The number's so high, I don’t even remember it.
“Oh, that’s us.” My mother snags my hand, and we rush down the hallway.
We get to the gate as the woman starts to close the door. She eyes us. “Ah, Lora and Thatius? Our last guests. Tickets please.” She smiles, but I can tell it's forced.
My mom says never to trust anyone with a forced smile.
“Terrance,” she told me, “If you see someone who looks like they are in pain when they smile, it means they're lying. Pay attention to it. Lying smiles are the worst.”
I wonder if this lady is lying to us, because she hasn’t really had time to. Her face looks a little like my goldfish when she smiles. Lily had such a pretty tail. I miss her sometimes.
“I love your stuffed animal backpack," the lady says. I know she’s lying because of her smile.
So I say, “Thanks.” I inch my way around her as she scans our tickets and nods us into the small hallway.
I lean close to my mom. “I think she was hiding something.” I get excited and squeeze my mom’s hand because maybe this is why we're here. Maybe this woman is covering up something to do with my mom’s secret job. Maybe I just figured out the truth.
My mom leans toward me right before we reach the small, round door in the side of the plane. “Her job is to make us feel comfortable. Sometimes people have fake smiles because of their job.”
I gasp, “Do you have to fake smile?”
“Sometimes,” she taps me on the nose. “But never around you. Come on, everyone’s waiting on us.” We go through tiny aisles with tiny seats. I wonder how people are able to sit in these seats; they are so small. But everyone looks like they are used to it. This is probably one of those things my dad hates.
At the dinner table one night before my mom became a secret agent, he said, “Everyone is packed together like sardines. They act like they don’t care – but how can you be so close and not care? It’s all too close. Everyone’s too close.” He sighed. “Terrance, when you are older, never work in a cubicle.” He looked at me with eat-your-peas face.
“What’s a crucible?” I asked.
“Cubicle, Terrance.” My mom answered. “It’s where souls go to die.” She squeezed my hand.
I stared at dad. “Is your soul okay?!”
He laughed, after giving the eat-your-peas face to my mother. I really hated peas. “My soul is strong and healthy. It can overcome anything.”
I smiled because my dad had some good parts to him too, and at least the cubicles didn't kill his soul.
But the way everyone sits here in the plane, they do look like sardines. My dad showed me a picture long ago because I didn’t know what it meant. "Packed together like sardines." They are little fish that lie on top of each other in a tin can.
And the plane from the inside looks a lot like one of those tin cans. No one is sitting on top of each other, except the girl on her mom’s lap, but everyone is very close together. I could see how my dad could confuse a plane and a tin of sardines.
We get into our seats by the window. My mom shows me how to buckle my seat belt. It’s kind of like a car seatbelt, but to undo it you have to lift up on the metal flap. It looks a bit like a metal wing. I wonder if my mom has ever had to fight mechanical bird robots. If planes exist, robot birds probably exist too. Planes can fly, why not robots?
The plane shakes as we take off. My mom squeezes my hand and exhales once we get into the air. “I always hated plane take offs.”
“Why?”
“Oh, because, Thatius, once you know as much as the rest of us, you’ll see that there’s plenty of reasons to worry over silly things. But for now, you shouldn’t be afraid of adult things. You should just be happy that you are safe with me.”
I nod because I do feel safe with her. But I wonder if this is what my dad means. If maybe he is right after all. But my mom’s a secret agent. She shouldn’t be scared of a big flying sardine can. I realize she is though, and I have to be strong for her, which is fine because I like being strong. I want my soul to be as strong as my dad’s someday.
The plane ride is long and boring. I didn’t know anything could be so boring, but it is. You are stuck in those little seats, which were big for me, but little for everyone else, forever. My mom says it is only seven hours, but it isn’t. It is at least a day and a half. Maybe two days. They only give me lunch and by the time we land, my tummy is grumbling again.
I tug on my mom’s sleeve and point to my stomach. She leans in close, “I know, Thatius, but you’ll have to wait a little longer okay? Mommy has a really important meeting to go to. You can be strong, right?”
I nod because I can. This is a test, I know it is. She’s testing me to see if someday I’ll be ready to be a secret agent ninja pirate robot like she is – or if I fail… But there’s no failing, I can’t fail. So I look down at my tummy and tell him, “Not now, we’ll eat later.” But my mouth waters as we pass by fast food burgers on our way out. The smell of french fries follow me.
I tug on my mom’s shirt again. “What is it, Thatius?” She waves at a weird looking car with a strange looking sign on it. I can’t read anything that is around us, which is weird because I learned to read two years ago. But none of it looks real. It’s all a fake made up language, like I used to speak when I was little.
“Are we in Paris?” I ask.
She nods as the car pulls up, and the driver helps her throw her stuff in the trunk. “Où allez-vous, madame?” It sounds like he’s singing. My mom is right, they do sound like funny little singers.
“Does this mean the french fries are realer here?” I ask.
The man looks at me. He has a funny little mustache that covers his lips. He laughs for a moment before shaking his head. “Et moi? Juste entraînement des touristes.”
My mom frowns at the man. “Nous ne sommes pas des touristes! Nous faisons ici des affaires importantes.”
I look between the two of them. It looks like she’s using some secret agent ninja power to shoot laser into his skull. He must have said something insulting, but I don’t understand it. My mom looks back at me, and she knows what’s going on in my head. “He called us tourists, Thatius. And I assured him, we most certainly aren’t.” She peers at the man while he holds up his hands in defeat. My mom the secret agent ninja pirate woman has defeated the stranger. She really can do anything.
“Oh!” I climb into the backseat with my backpack still on and scoot over so my mom can sit next to me. The car smells like my mom used to smell like before my dad told her to quit smoking. “We are importantes.” I quote my mom on the last word, hoping to sound smart. It sounds like important, so it must mean the same thing, right? Except the last part of the word sounds funny. Instead of saying it like “tent” you say it like “toannn.” It’s a little strange, French. It does sound like you are singing.
My secret agent mother gives him specific directions in French. We travel under a big stone archway, down the longest street I've ever seen in my whole life. Everything's big here. I look as far down as I can, but all I see is more road and buildings that stretch on forever. There aren't any roads like this near my house
My mom must see me staring, because she turns to me and says, "This city was entirely planned out by Baron Haussmann. He's the man who set up what we're doing today, one hundred and forty five years ago. He made this city what it was because he knew what was coming." My mom talks in a really low voice, I can tell that she doesn't want the driver to hear. He's giving her a funny look in the rearview mirror. I stick my tongue out at him. He narrows his eyes at me before looking back at the street.
I lean closer to my mom. Her voice gets really soft, like it used to when she read me bedtime stories. "Terrance, it's really important that we stick together through all of this. Most people refuse to believe me, but I'm absolutely right. Haussman was right. He made all the pieces fit together just so. He knew what he was doing. He was the greatest urban planner to ever exist."
I nod because I think I understand, but sometimes it is hard to tell with my mom. I know my mom's not crazy; she's not. She's right all the time. But sometimes when she says things, I don't understand them. I want to act like I understand, because I want her to think that I'm smart.
She grabs my arm and kisses me on the top of my head. "We're saving the world, Terrance." She hums the words into my head. It feels like she's tickling my brain. "You are going to have the best story to tell when you go back home."
And that's when I know she's right, because most kids don't go to Paris over their summer vacation. And most kids don't have a secret agent for a mom. I stop worrying and continue looking out at the streets. I'm wondering about Haussman. My mom hasn't told me what he did when he planned out the city, just that he did it. And that we have to save the world. I worry a bit about losing Ducky my backpack.
I don't want to lose my mom or my dad. That would be the worst summer ever. I know I need to put on my big boy pants, that's what my mom always told me.
When I was scared of the dark, she said, "Terrance, there are a lot of scary things out there - scarier than the dark. Scarier than the dust bunnies under your bed. The world is full of terrifying things. The dark isn't one of them. So put on your big boy pants and march right back to bed."
At the time, I didn't understand. Because I was already wearing pants. I looked at them, and they had cowboys on them. I thought about what made pants "big boy pants." I asked her about it at dinner. "What makes them big boy pants?"
She told me, "Terrance, it's an expression. You know what that is, right?"
I made a frowny face.
She shook her head, "No, not a facial expression. In language, there are expressions. When someone says something that they don't mean literally."
I blinked at her.
"When someone says something that they don't mean."
"Like a lie?" I asked.
She pursed her lips. "No, not like a lie. If I were to say 'It feels like the world's on fire today' because it's really hot - the world isn't really on fire, is it?"
I looked out the window and shook my head.
"Exactly. So when I say 'big boy pants,' I mean, you need to stop being so scared about things that aren't scary." She said.
But I think the end of the world is scary, so I really wish that big boy pants actually existed. I could use a pair, because my knees keep bouncing in the backseat of the cab. Luckily, my mom just thinks I'm excited; she doesn't say anything about the fact that I'm missing my big boy pants.
After a long while, we turn down this really narrow street. In front of us is this giant pointing thing. My mom lets out a small breath. "We're not too late." She squeezes my hand. The thing looks like a needle trying to blast into space. It'll never make it though. It's big, but it isn't as tall as space.
We stop in front of a huge hotel that is almost entirely made out of glass. I press my nose against the cab window and try to see the top of the building. I think I can see it, just barely. It's the biggest thing ever.
"Come on, let's go." My mom opens the door and marches around the cab. She opens my door, and I almost fall out of the cab. She holds me up by my wrists and laughs, "Thatius, you can be so silly sometimes." She takes the bag that the taxi man is holding out to her, and she hands him some money. I tug on her shoulder, because I think she accidentally took money from the board game we have back home. Why else would it look so fake? She ignores me.
I grab my backpack from the car and make sure I didn't forget anything before we march inside the building. This place even has those rotating glass doors I've seen in movies. I like them so much that I walk through them a few times before my mom pulls me out. "Time for that later. We have some very important meetings to attend before you can play." My mom gives me a stern look. It's the eat-your-spinach look, so I know she's serious.
She greets the man behind the counter, and he gives her the look my dad used to give her after dessert before she went away on secret agent business. It's the look that adults give each other when they think kids aren't looking. I noticed it when I was eating blueberry pie. I peeked for one second and saw it, then the look was gone. I don't really understand what it means, but this guy is giving my mom that look. I don't like him. He says, "Oui, comment puis-je vous aider?"
My mom doesn't miss a beat, "Nous avons besoin d'assister à la réunion annuelle. Il est très important." The man makes a face. There's that word again though, important. He must know that my mom is important, that we're important. When he looks at me, I put the biggest smile on my face.
The man answers, "Et le garçon?"
"Il est mon fils. Et il va aider." She wrinkles her nose a bit when she replies. "Thatius, say hi to the nice man."
"Hi."
"Bonjour," the man replies. But he doesn't look nice. His face is pinched like he smelled something sour. And he has those squinty teachers eyes that you get when you are being scolded. He glances back at my mother and sighs, "La réunion? Elle n'est pas jusqu'à... tomorrow?" He rolls his r's when he says it. It makes him sound funny.
"Bien sûr!" My mom nods her head. "That's why we are here early. Can't be late, not with these matters."
The man shakes his head. "Chambre cinq zero quatre."
"504, got it." My mom snatches the key from him and twirls around on her heels. She marches across the lobby like she's been here a bazillion times and presses the button for the elevator. I get a little sad because I've never been in a building with an elevator, and I wanted to push the button. My mom sees my face, and she kneels down next to me, "You can push the fifth floor when we get inside, you got it?" She holds out her fingers to form the number five, "Cinq, en francais." She gives me a big smile, and I hold out my palm to hers. My fingers are so much smaller. I hope I'm bigger when I grow up.
"Cinq." I nod.
When the elevator doors open, I gasp. I've never seen walls made out of gold before, but I've heard that they exist. After the doors finish opening, I take the moment to jump into the elevator and stare at my reflection. My mom taps me on the shoulder, and I remember what I need to do.
"Cinq!" I push the button labeled with a "5." My mom smiles at me, then points to the ceiling. I look past her, and I'm staring at myself. My dark sandy blond hair sits in a mop on the top of my head. I look a little tired, but other than that, I look like me. "I've never seen myself from the top before." I look back at my mom, "Is this what you see?"
My mom looks into the reflection and catches my eyes with hers. "Yes, and you look absolutely lovely."
I grin. "So what's that big needle thing outside?"
"Big needle thing?" My mom shifts and looks back down at me.
"Yeah, that thing outside - it looks like a big needle pointing to space." I clasp both my hands over my head and point up to the sky as the elevator dings. The number five lights up in red. This is our stop.
My mom chuckles and grabs our bags. We step out into a long hallway with a maroon carpet. "That's La Tour Eiffel." She pauses to look at our key then marches down the right side of the hallway. "The Eiffel Tower."
"Why is it called latour?"
"No, no, Hippo. It's La. Tour. Two words, meaning 'the tower.'"
"So they call it 'The Tower Eiffel' in French?"
"Sort of." She stops short in front of a door, and I almost crash into her legs. "Well, Hippo, this is our new home for the next week. I'll show you Paris, but remember, we have to save the world." She peers over her shoulder at me, and I nod.
I don't know much about Paris, but I've heard it is famous. I know that a lot of people vacation here, that people brag about seeing the Tower Eiffel. But I don't know many people who have actually been here. I'm excited because I have something to brag about, not only saving the world, but also being here, right next to the big needle trying to touch space.
She puts the key card into the slot in the door; it pulses green before she twists the knob open. The door swings inward. "We're here."
"Wow." I step into the room. The carpet and the walls are the same brown as our living room. But it's the rest of it. The furniture is all dark, and the long cabinets lead up to a bright blue fish tank. I always wanted a fish after Lily died from popeye, but my mom never let me get another one. I drop my backpack in the hallway and run over to press my nose against the glass fish tank. It's cold.
The first fish I see is bright yellow with a super long nose. Then I see a black and white striped fish with a super long fin, the top of it is angled like a boomerang. And then there is the silly looking fish that looks like a unicorn with a big horn on the front of his face. I point, "Mom, what are they?"
My mom picks up my backpack and waddles into the room. But she isn't walking fast enough, so I take my backpack for her and throw it on the bed then march back to the fish. "What are they?" I'm more curious than ever because they sure don't look like Lily did. She was gold.
"Well," my mom says. "That one? Is a Unicorn Tang."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yes, huh."
"Unicorns aren't real." I place my face back on the glass. "At least, that's what you told me, that unicorns don't exist."
"It's a fish, Terrance. You know full well you were talking about unicorns that look like horses."
"Can we take this one home?" I watch the fish watch me.
"How are we supposed to bring a fish on a plane?" My mom sighs. "Terrance, you need to think some things through. You remember why we are here, right?" I nod. She kneels down next to me and points to the black and white striped fish. "That black and white one is a heniochus. And that one, with the really long snout? What do you think it's called?"
"Longnose," I giggle.
"Exactly, Terrance, good job."
"Wait, it is a longnose?"
My mom nods, "A longnose butterfly fish. Cute and beautiful. Although, they have to be fed several times a day, so I wonder how they do that." My mom walks around the tank and scratches her head. "Ah, well, let's sit down on the couch and have a chat - shall we?"
I nod and peel myself away from the tank. It is so beautiful with all the different colors and fish, I don't want to stop looking at it. But I know we're about to do something important, so I force myself to sit still next to my mom on the couch. It's made out of that weird material that feels soft when you rub against it one way, but rough the other way. I don't like that feeling.
"Okay, Terrance, we need to talk about why I brought you here, and the convention that is going to happen tomorrow."
I shift on the couch because the material is making my legs feel weird. I'm wearing shorts. I don't wear shorts at school, but I wear them a lot during the summertime. Even though it is hot outside, I wish I was wearing pants, because the couch feels strange on the back of my knees.
My mom tosses her hair behind her head and then rolls it into a bun. I never want hair that long. It seems like a lot of work, and she's always wiping it out of her eyes. "The convention tomorrow is a really old one. It comes from a long tradition of people who understand Haussman's reasons for building the city like it is. It's a convention of people like us." She taps me on my nose, "People who understand that there is more out there in the universe." She waves her hand at the ceiling and gets lost in her thoughts for a moment. My mom does this sometimes; I've gotten used to it.
"So what is it really about?" I wish she would say it already. I'm so nervous that the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.
"Ah, well, see, here's the thing. We haven't fully figured out the message. We know that someone is coming here, soon. But we don't know if they are friendly, or hostile. You know what that means, right?"
I nod, "Like bullies?"
"Exactly, and we cannot let bullies land on Earth right?"
My eyes grow wide, "Are you talking about aliens?!"
My mom nods, "But hush, Terrance, it's important that no one overhears us. No one outside of the committee believes me. No one understands my mission, and everyone who hears about it thinks I'm crazy." She grabs my shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. "And you know I'm not crazy, right?"
I nod, because she's not. She's my secret agent ninja mom, and we're going to save the world. "I know," I answer.
"Good. Well, there's plenty to do in Paris. Why don't we go to this little local cafe I know? I know how much you like American cheese."
I nod because I love sliced cheese. My dad says I eat too much of it. He says, "Terrance, if you eat any more of that cheese, I'm going to have to put you on diabeetles watch." I don't know what diabeetles is, but it doesn't sound good. I don't really like beetles, so sometimes I listen to him.
"Well, they have amazing cheese platters out here."
"Platters?"
She nods, "Platters are plates full of something - so if you have a cheese platter-"
I jump up, "Then you have a plate full of cheese!" I throw my arms up in the air and giggle, because cheese is worth giggling over.
She grabs her purse from the couch and stands up. I'm already running towards the door. I wrench it open and fly down the hall to the elevators and push the button before she can. I look for her behind me, but she isn't even out in the hallway yet. I bounce on my toes for a minute, waiting for her. When the elevator opens, this couple stumbles out of it.
The lady has blonde hair. She smells like someone put flowers in a doctor's office. I cough from the icky floral medicine scent. The man just smells yucky, like my dad does when he spent all day mowing grass without showering.
The lady wrinkles her nose and kneels down next to me. She wraps her fingers around my arm, and I pull back. "Are you lost?" She says. Her breath smells funny, it tickles my nose when it comes out of her mouth with how strange it is. Her breath is like bubbles.
She turns to the man, "I think he's lost. What's your name?" She turns back to me, her green eyes seem too small for her head. Or maybe her head is too big. Before I can decide my mom steps behind me and pulls me close to her.
"Thatius is fine, thank you. I was just locking up our hotel room." I glance up at my mom. She looks like she's shooting lasers out of her eyeballs. Her face is so angry, tomato red. The lady and man sense it too, because both of them flinch. My mom, secret agent ninja robot with her invisible lasers. I tell myself to never make her angry.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say in my angry voice. The lady touched me, and that was weird. I don't know her, and she smells funny.
The lady holds up her hands and stands up. She takes two steps back. "Sorry. I was worried he was lost." She stumbles into the man. He holds her up for support. They start off down the hallway; she mutters something under her breath.
"I am not ungrateful!" My mom yells. "Thatius was fine, he was waiting for me." My mom glares at the lady who is far away now. She doesn't even acknowledge my mom. My mom kneels down next to me, "Terrance, are you okay?"
I nod, though I wonder what happened to my new name - aren't I supposed to be Hippo now? I decide not to ask, because my mom is still in laser shooting mode. And I don't want her robot powers to accidentally go off and shoot me. That would be bad.
She sighs, "Okay, I'm sorry. You shouldn't run so fast, okay? We're in a place where most people don't speak English. It might be hard for you to get back here. But..." She rummages through her purse and gives me a tiny card with even tinier writing on it. "If we do get separated, you give this card to someone nice, like a policeman or a taxi driver, okay? And you have them get you back here, and I'll find you."
I nod again and put the small card in my pocket. It's made out of a special kind of paper, and the words on it don't really make sense. There has to be something wrong with the spelling, because I can't read it.
My mom forces me to hold her hand as we walk to the cafe. I don't like holding hands with her, because it makes me feel smaller than I am. I know I'm small, but I don't feel small most of the time. Especially now, on a secret agent adventure with my mom. I'm the tallest boy in the whole world. I pretend I had big feet and stomp the ground like a dinosaur.
Mom lets go of my hand, and I stomp around her in a circle. She says, "Hippo, if you keep doing that, you're going to make the whole earth crumble."
I stomp two more times and look at her, "Like a giant cookie?"
"Yes, like a giant cookie."
"Would I be able to eat it afterward? An earth sized cookie would be incredible!"
"Maybe for dessert, but you really should try to calm down." My mom stops at a light and waits for it to switch over. As we walk across the street, she snags my hand in hers. We weave our way through the crowd of people speaking their weird sing-song French language. When we get to the cafe, my feet are sore.
"I want new shoes." I tell her as she opens the door.
"Why's that?" She looks down at my shoes.
I poke them with my finger and feel the poke all the way around my toes. "I think I'm getting too big. Big feet, big enough to crumble the world with." I stomp one more time as a man in a white button shirt and thin tie walks up to us.
"Bonjour, deux?"
"Oui, merci." My mom bows her head a little bit and then looks back at me. "If you really think they are too small, we can look into it tomorrow. Aren't you excited for the cheese?"
A smile spreads across my face when I remember why we came out here in the first place. Yes, cheese platters and diabeetles. I don't care about the diabeetles at all; I'm too excited about the cheese.
After we get seated, I wiggle my butt into the cushion, because cushions are always more comfortable after you make them fit your butt. My mom says this makes me look funny. She's always telling me, "Terrance, you better stop that wiggling or people will think you have ants in your pants."
I don't know why people would think that I had ants in my pants. Who would put ants in their pants? I wouldn't. That's just silly.
The guy with the tie hands us menus. All the spelling is wrong again, but my mom seems to understand it. I think she can because she's an agent. She glances at me with a small smile on her face, "Trust me to order us some amazing things?"
"What's cheese in French?" I don't answer her question because I want to ask for cheese.
"Fromage."
I swing my legs out as far as they will go under the table. My mom glances up as the waiter comes over. She says a bunch of words that I don't understand.
The man turns towards me, "Et toi?"
I don't know what he said, but I say, "Fromage!" I put the smile on my face that my mom says makes me look like a banshee. I'm not sure what a banshee is, but I like to think that my smile looks great. It shows all my teeth, just like a smile should.
My mom sighs and hands our menus back to the man. He gives me a smile back and walks away. "You know, Thatius, I am perfectly capable of ordering for us."
"I know, but I wanted to."
She gives me the eat-your-spinach look for another minute. But her eyes soften and she reaches over and pets the side of my head. "You know, I never could stay mad at you. Your dad always said I was too soft."
"No, squishy sometimes. When I hug you, you're squishy, I mean. It's nice. Not like Jimmy's mom. She's all boney. I don't think I'd like hugging her, I'm glad she doesn't hug me."
"Terrance, that's not a very nice thing to say." She narrows her eyes at me.
"I thought I didn't have to hug people if I didn't want to. That's what you said when I told you I didn't want to hug grandpa."
"Grandpa was different. Terrance, he didn't remember you."
I blink. How could someone forget me? I'd like to think that I'm rememberable. "I don't understand."
My mom takes a deep breath. "Look, most women are sensitive about their weight, skinny, thick, thin, fat, and everything in between. You have to be very careful what you say about them, okay? It's respectful not to say anything bad about their weight. You understand?"
"No."
She opens her mouth to say something more, but the guy comes back with a huge plate of cheese - no, a platter of cheese. I squeal and hop up and down in my seat. "Cheese!"
She laughs, "Yes, cheese. Now, Thatius, let me tell you what is what on this plate, because cheese comes in all different shapes and sizes, and flavors."
I'm too busy shoving a piece of some weird cheese with green flecks in it into my mouth to listen to her. It tastes funny, like the inside of an old sock. I want to spit it out, but my mom always told me that it is impolite to spit out food, especially at a restaurant.
My mom takes a cracker and smears some cheese on it. "That was blue cheese, and I didn't think you would like it. You should try this."
I take a large gulp and force the rest of the sock down my throat before eating the cracker. This cheese is a bit sweeter and creamy, but it has a funny aftertaste, like earwax. I remember when someone dared me to eat earwax once in kindergarten. This cheese tastes like that, somewhat sour. It isn't too bad, but it is a little strange. Why would someone make food that tastes like this?
"I like it, but not the icky aftertaste."
"It's brie."
"I didn't know there were so many different kinds of cheeses!" I pluck another hunk of something off the platter and pop it into my mouth. This one is cheddar, I know because it tastes like what we make our grilled cheese with. I love grilled cheese. I think my dad is a professional chef, because when I have his grilled cheese, it is the best thing in the world. When my mom makes it? Well, she's an awesome secret agent ninja robot pirate, but she's no cook. She burns the grilled cheese a lot. I don't really like burnt things.
Once the cheese is gone and my pants feel tighter, my mom walks up to the counter and pays the bill. I yawn in my chair and wonder how long it has been since I slept. The plane was boring, but I don't think I slept. And I feel funny, like the sun should be down or something.
When my mom comes back to the table, I ask her, "Why do I feel so tired?"
She smiles, "We are in a different time zone." She holds out her hand. I yawn one more time and take her fingers. We trail along together, back towards the hotel. "See, because the earth is round, the sun rises and sets at different times all across the world. So they invented time zones. It may be the afternoon here, but it feels different to us. It feels like night."
I sniff a little bit. "How far away are we from dad?"
She kneels down next to me and smoothes the side of my hair. "Now, Terrance, you aren't getting homesick are you?"
"No." I cross my arms and look away from her.
"It's okay if you are." My mom takes my face in her hands and forces me to look at her. I blink and some tears fall down the side of my face. "I promise, we'll be home before you know it." She taps me on the nose. I nod and we take off again down the street.
When we get back to the hotel, I'm too tired to push the buttons. I'm too tired to do anything other than curl up in bed with my socks on and cuddle Ducky into the blankets.
I wake up the next morning to my mom leaning over the desk in the corner. She's on the phone, whispering in that tone she gets with me in public when she's really upset with something I've done, but doesn't want anyone else to hear.
When she looks over at me and sees that I am awake, she says, "I have to go, call you later," and clicks the phone off.
I stretch my hands out in front of me and give her a curious look, "Who was that?"
She just smiles, "No one you should concern yourself with, and anyway, you'll meet him later today at the convention." My mom puts on her huge secret agent boots, the ones with ten thousand laces that go over her jeans. She says she wears them because you never know when you'll have to run from something, or fight something.
I want boots like hers, so I ask, "Can I get boots like yours instead of new shoes?" My shoes look all worn out, and I swear my feet are getting bigger.
She glances down at her boots. "Terrance, these are boots for women."
"So?" I tilt my head to the side, because it doesn't make sense that black boots would only be for women. Pink boots maybe, I'd never wear pink boots. Though, purple's okay. But I like black, black makes you look like a ninja, and I want to be like a ninja.
"Well, they don't make them in your size, one. And two... I'm not sure you would want them if you tried them on. They have really big arches."
"I thought arches were like this?" I put my hands together above my head and try to make my arms as round as possible.
She sighs, "When we have time to go shoe shopping, I'll let you pick out your own. But you have to promise me you'll get something that is comfortable enough to wear every day, okay?"
Now I'm excited because my mom has never let me pick out my own shoes before. She has always chosen for me, and my dad got me a pair of shoes for the holidays once. He told me I should be happy for them. But I wasn't. They were brown. I don't like brown, it reminds me of the garlic that my mom cooks in spinach, which reminds me of popeye, which reminds me of how Lily died.
I don't like to remember Lily, because I miss her. I used to sit and make faces at her, because she made faces at me. I sucked in my cheeks and tried to blow bubbles at her. She was better at blowing bubbles than me.
So when my mom tells me I can choose my own shoes, I'm happy. I pull on my shoes and am about to ask where we are going, when my mom says, "Breakfast, and then we head to the meeting. Oh, Terrance, you are going to love everyone there." She holds the door open, and we wind down the hallway. Even though I am excited about riding the elevator again, I don't leave my mom's side. I am worried about that lady being around again, or someone worse.
When we get down to the first floor, we weave our way through the people in the lobby and head to a small cafe in the back of the hotel. The cafe smells nice. The air swims with fresh bread, cream cheese and warm butter. My stomach doesn't want more cheese this morning, which surprises me a little, because my stomach always wants cheese at home.
"Why not a croissant - authentic French, fresh with butter?" My mom squeezes my hand, and I nod in agreement.
"Oh!" I tug on her arm, "And orange juice too, don't forget that!"
We sit down and eat in the corner. My mom is so quiet; I almost forget she is there, since I'm staring out the window. "You know, Thatius, people in France adore people watching. That's why there are so many tables outside - and that's why the windows are so big."
"Why would you watch people?" It's not like television, where people all of a sudden transform into extraordinary creatures and save the planet. Well, I guess we are saving the planet, but that guy on the street with the briefcase isn't saving the planet. Why would you watch him?
"Well, haven't you noticed every single person is different?" My mom leans in close. I know she's about to say something important. So I put my croissant down and listen carefully.
"The whole world is made up of people just like you and me. Every single person has their own path in life." I bite off another piece of my croissant while she looks out the window. "Think of it. This whole place is full of different opportunities, different chances to meet someone who could change your destiny." She turns to me and grabs my arm. The croissant falls out of my hand and onto the table. "Terrance, every single person you meet could either be the reason you die, or the reason you survive. Remember that."
I nod, my eyes wide because my mom has never gripped me this hard in my whole life. Even when she told me about saving the world, even when she told me she had to leave with the police and she told me that she loved me. She's never grabbed this hard. And it scares me.
"I'm sorry," she says as she drops my arm. I pick up the fallen croissant and put it back on the plate, where it crumbles a little more. "I shouldn't be telling you this." She sighs, "Your father is right. He always says I'm telling you too much. I should really be more mindful about what I say."
My mom tilts her head to the side and considers me for a moment. I straighten in my chair. "I'm glad you tell me things. It's hard to understand though." I pick off the part of the croissant that landed on the table. I don't want to eat table croissant.
"Well, I don't mean to be forceful about things, I really don't. But there's just so much you don't know. Listen, this is important." She gets really close. "We have never been alone. The whole universe is full of crazy things. And well, I've told you before, and I'll say it again." Her voice gets real low, so low that I can hardly hear what she says. "The aliens you've seen in movies, well, they're real. Very real. And they are coming here, to try to take over the world."
I blink. "Why would they do that?" I almost yell it, but remember that we are supposed to be quiet. No one else should hear this.
"Because, Thatius," she hisses. "Most creatures are bent on domination, you know, like the villains in your cartoons? Almost everyone is like that. It's unfortunate and rotten. I wish there was something we could do to change it, but we can't. So we stay here, stuck."
She picks up her coffee and sucks a few large gulps down. I swallow a bit of my orange juice. "How are we going to save the world?"
My mom smiles for the first time this morning. "Well, that's what the convention is for. We are going to meet some pretty amazing people. And they will explain what we're doing tomorrow - how we will do it. And then I'm going to get you back home to your father. So remember - don't get sad or homesick, okay? This will be over soon."
When we're done eating, my mom throws some of that funny looking money on the table, and we leave the cafe. We go back to our room for a minute, and she makes both of us robot pirate hats that crinkle when we put them on. I've always loved these hats, but she has never made one for me, so I figure this time it's important.
She tells me, "See, Terrance, everyone at this convention will have a hat like this. When we are wearing these hats, they can't hear us." She points up to the ceiling, and I look up there. I don't see anything interesting, but someone must be trying to listen. My mom doesn't make stuff up.
She's always serious. I remember when I told her a story once, it wasn't real. She told me, "Terrance, no one wants to hear lies - everyone wants the truth. You should always tell the truth."
I asked her if she always told the truth, and she nodded. "Always, I have never once lied to you, and I never will."
We head back into the hallway, down the elevator, and down another long corridor to the biggest room I've ever seen. The walls are so high that ten copies of me would have to stand on top of each other to reach the ceiling. Maybe even more. There are tables with fresh fruit on them. There are people standing around. When my mom and I walk in, everyone turns to look at us. A hundred eyes land on me.
I shift my feet, feeling a little strange, because I've never had so many people look at me before. Not all at once anyway. A few people whisper to each other, "Is that them?" And my mom holds her head proud. She always does that. She always says to me, "Terrance, if you can't hold your head up proud, there's no point in holding it up at all."
So I try to copy her and straighten out my neck and chin. I turn my head higher in the air and pretend I'm trying to smell something, at least that's how it feels with my nose so high. We walk further into the room, and my mom navigates. She winds her way through the clumps of people until she stops in front of a very fat man.
She smiles politely to him, and I smile too. But I don't know why I'm smiling. He looks from her to me and back to her again. He says, "I see you were able to bring the child."
I stomp my foot down, "I'm not a child." I puff up my chest and try to sound mean.
He laughs. When he does, his belly jiggles like a pudding dessert. I don't think I can ever eat pudding again. He kneels down next to me, and I can smell bacon in his mouth. I don't think I can ever eat bacon again either. He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I try to wiggle away, but he has a strong grip. "Of course you aren't, you are so much more than that." He smiles at me, and there's green things stuck between his teeth.
The fat man stands up and turns to my mom. She has the same smile on her face, like she knows some big secret. I want to know the secret too. Who is trying to listen to us? Why did we have to come to France? Why couldn't Dad come? I look down at my shoes and kick at the floor.
"I was waiting until we could meet up with you, Horace, to explain everything to Terrance." My mom's voice sounds small. It's the first time I've ever heard her sound that way. She sounds like a mouse that's hiding from a cat. I glare at Horace. He would make a pretty ugly cat.
Horace claps his hands, "Well, then there's no more time to waste. Come, Terrance, come."
He starts to walk away, and my mom follows him, but I pull on her shirt. "I thought we weren't using real names." I'm confused, and scared, because my mom has never acted this way before.
She puts on the warmest smile, the one I'm used to, and kneels down next to me. "Terrance, these people," she looks around the room and points to them. "They are family; they know what the world is like. They understand. They aren't like your father." She says the last word like she's cutting it with scissors.
"But these people aren't family," I mumble. I look at the ground, because it's easier to disappoint her when I'm not looking at her.
My mom scoops me into a hug and shushes me. I didn't even feel the tears on my face, but there they are, pouring down my cheeks. I feel like a little kid again. I don't even mind that everyone is staring at us, because I'm so nervous about being here that I can't help it. "Terrance, I'm with you, okay? And I'm not going away, not if I can help it." She holds me close, and I nod into her shoulder to tell her I understand. I still don't understand, but if she's next to me the whole time, it'll makes things easier.
"Horace is a good man; he taught me a lot when I started to realize there's more out there than we know. He's going to teach you a lot too, okay?" My mom pulls away so she can look at me. I nod again. "Okay," she says. She takes my hand and leads me into the back room where Horace is. His belly is so big I could probably hide inside him if I wanted to.
I wipe my face on my shirt and try to get rid of any left over tears. I tell myself I wasn't crying, and it helps a little. Horace towers over me with beady eyes. They're the smallest eyes I've ever seen on such a big man. I think he'd look less scary if he wasn't so big.
"Terrance," he says, kneeling next to me. He looks me in the eyes. "I'm sorry if this scares you, that was not your mother's, or my, intention. We want to keep you safe, okay? You are the one who will save everyone."
I press my fingers into my mom's hand. She squeezes my hand back and gets this warm smile on her face. I look back at Horace. "How?" I want to sound strong, but the words come out of my mouth in a whisper. I can't help it, I'm still scared. I'm too small to save everyone. Horace is big, he should save everyone.
He points to my small backpack that I always wear, it keeps Ducky my stuff safe.
"May I?" He asks. I step back from him and shake my head. He puts a smile on his face, but I still don't trust him. His neck looks like a turkey's. If his face was a little redder, he would be a bird man. But he's not red. He's the color of the pants my dad makes me wear on holidays. That strange off-white, but not tan color. I don't like those pants.
"Terrance, it's okay." My mom urges me. I take another step back, but I can only go so far with my hand still wrapped in my mom's hand.
"No. It's mine. He's mine." And I won't let Horace touch him.
Horace sighs, but backs up. I breathe and continue to stare at him. If he makes a move to try to get my backpack, I'll run. Horace pushes himself up and leans back on the office desk.
I hope I never have to work in a room like this. It's small and has no windows. Even my class has windows where I can see the sky. This room has no sky. I wonder if this is the cubicle that my dad warned me about.
"Okay, Terrance," Horace says. "But it will be harder for me to explain without the object. When you were born, we learned about an invasion. The prophecy said that it would happen right here, in Paris. The only way to stop it would be to find the boy with the missing piece." He leans back toward me. I want to step back, but my hand is still clasped in my mom's. "The missing piece to the ship that fell all those years ago is in your hippopotamus. We traced it. It's the eye in your-"
"In Ducky?" I cut him off. I wiggle my hand out of my mom's and open my backpack. I grab my small, stuffed hippo with both hands and stare at him. "Get it out!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I shake Ducky trying to get whatever it is out of him, but it's not working, nothing comes out of my small hippopotamus.
"Terrance!" My mom yells as she gets really close to me. I'm still shaking Ducky, but nothing. Nothing. Something is trapped inside my Ducky, and I don't want it there. "Terrance," she whirls me around and takes Ducky out of my hands. I glare at him, then at her. "When the time is right, you must use Ducky against the invasion."
I cross my arms and shake my head.
"He's been your friend for years, right?"
I look down and try to look as angry as possible. "Yeah," I say as mean as I can.
"And he's never hurt you, right?"
She's right. My mom's always right. "No," I say a little bit nicer.
"He's going to help you save the world." My mom puts Ducky out in front of me. Her eyes look sad, like she's expecting me not to take Ducky back. But of course I'm going to take Ducky back. He's Ducky, after all, and he and I have a job to do.
"Okay." I say.
She nods to Horace, and he continues as if nothing happened. "The prophecy said that the material would form a bond between the child it chose and the object. Which is why, Terrance, you have such an affinity for Ducky." I have no idea what a fin a tee means, but I nod anyway. "You are the only one who can use its power. Tomorrow, at 8:06 a.m., after the sun fully rises over the Paris, you will need to be on the top of the tower. You will need to use Ducky." Horace kneels next to me. "Listen to him, Terrance. He will tell you what to do."
I give Horace a weird look. Ducky has never spoken to me once since I was little. Ducky doesn't speak, so now I think Horace might be crazy. But I don't want to say so because Horace could eat me, so I nod. And my mom's not crazy, so she must know that Horace isn't crazy. They must be secret agents together. Saving the world from aliens. That's why she disappears all the time. Super secret agent ninja pirate robot. I twist my cap on my head and listen as it crinkles against my skull. I think that I might be turning into a pirate robot too.
"Does this mean I get to be a secret agent?" I ask my mom.
My mom chuckles, but nods her head, "Of course, Terrance. You can be whatever you want, after we save the world." I grin at that, because I've always wanted to be a hippopotamus. And being whatever I want means I can roll around in mud if I'd like. I've always wanted to roll around in a pile of mud, but my dad won't let me. I figure if I save the world, maybe my mom will let me roll around with Ducky, and we can be hippos together, just for a little while.
The next morning, my mom wakes me before the sun is up. We march down to the giant tower, and I stare up at it. My mom sighs, "Not open yet, honey. How about some breakfast first?" I nod. We go to the same cafe, and I have the same croissant. Everything about this city is the same.
When we get back at the tower, it is still early because I'm yawning. But there's a giant line of people waiting at one of the booths.
My mom glances around the line and sighs. She turns to me, "Now, Thatius, I need you to know what we're about to do in normal circumstances is bad - I've always told you that it is bad, right?" I don't know what she means so I shrug. "We're going to cut the line."
"What?!" I yell. "You can't cut the line - no one should ever cut! Cutters are horrible!"
My mom shushes me just as a bunch of other people glance in our direction. "I know cutting is bad," her voice is so quiet, I can barely hear her. "But we have to, because we need to be up there at 8:06 a.m. I wasn't expecting this long of a line - but it's important, Terrance, we have to save the world."
I gasp because she used my real life name again. I was told we weren't supposed to do that, but she's breaking all her rules. I don't know what to believe anymore.
She grabs my hand, "Try to look really sad, and scared." She looks me over, "Yeah, that's a good face." I am scared, so I don't have to try too hard. My mom is too frantic, and it makes me feel like I'm going to fail. If I do, the whole world will die, and it will all be my fault. I swallow.
When we get to the front of the line, the lady at the ticket booth peers over her glasses at us. "Madame, mais -"
"It's important." My mom rushes. "My son, he..." My mom has never cried in front of me before, never. She's a strong lady, strong enough to be a secret agent ninja robot pirate. Strong enough to be my mom. But she does something weird while talking to this lady with glasses. She cries. I tug on her shirt, and I look scared because my mom never cries. But here she is, crying.
"My son, all he wants to do is see the top of the tower... but he can't be out of the hospital for long. We're flying back home tonight. But la Tour, he's always wanted to see it."
"Oh my," the woman says. Her accent is thick, but she's not speaking her sing song language. "Is he terminal?" She says it quietly as she plugs in something on her keyboard. I can hear the ticking, but she doesn't say anything else.
I don't know what terminal means, but she says it in that hushed adult voice. And my mom's still crying, so I whimper a bit.
My mom nods and pats me on the head.
"I'm so sorry..." The lady hands my mom two pieces of paper. "Free of charge, what a brave little boy you are."
I realize now that terminal must mean I am terminating the aliens. I put on my brightest smile for her, and say, "That's what my mom always tells me."
The lady gives me a funny look before my mom takes me by the hand, and we walk toward the elevator. This "tour" thing everyone keeps talking about sure is strange. It's big and full of dark metal. It almost looks like it's rusted, but I know better. And there are no floors. If you look up, you can see the sky through it. I don't know how the elevator works when there are no floors, but I wait with everyone else anyway.
"What does 'terminal' mean?" I ask. My hand is nice and warm inside my mom's, so I feel like I can ask her now. It will be fine no matter what she says.
"Well, Terrance, you are not terminal, okay?"
My face falls, "But I thought I was going to save the world."
"Goodness, no, that's not what terminal means, honey. Your mom just told a little white lie so that we can take Ducky and go save the world."
"What does it mean?"
My mom kneels down next to me. "Remember, I said you are not terminal, right?" I nod because it was two seconds ago and I do. "Well, terminal is a nice word they use to describe someone who is dying from a disease."
My face falls. "What?" I squeak.
My mom shakes me a little bit, "Remember what I said, Terrance? It's a lie - a lie so we can save the world. She wouldn't have understood otherwise, she would have thought we were crazy."
"I think lying is crazy." I kick my feet against the pavement.
My mom ignores my comment and stands up straight. The elevator clunks down to a stop and we all file on board. The windows have smudges all over them, and it smells like the cat that my friend Steve has. I don't like this elevator. It's dirty. I clutch Ducky tighter in my hands and watch as the ground gets further and further away.
My mom lets out a breath, "8:02, honey, I think we're going to make it." She squeezes me on the shoulder, and I continue to watch as we go up, up, up.
The gears crush together as we rise further and further off the ground. I've never been this high in my life. It's scary. I grip my mom's hand a little bit tighter. She smiles down at me, but it doesn't help. Nothing will help until we're back on the ground.
"Only a little further, Terrance. Have you figured out what you're going to do?"
I blink up at her. I let go just long enough to hold Ducky in both my hands. I stare at him, he doesn't speak to me. I think Horace is crazy. Ducky has never spoken to me, even if he does want to be hippos together. I look at Ducky's eyes. I expect something to be different, but nothing has changed. Ducky is still Ducky. He will always be Ducky, and he will always be mine, no matter what happens.
I shrug and look back at my mom. She twists her lips and pats me on the head. She only does this when I ask a lot of questions. "You'll figure it out, I'm sure." She smiles. I smile back, but I don't feel like smiling. Ducky still hasn't said anything. He hangs in my hand unmoving, just like he always does.
We come to a stop, and even though it's a long way down, we still aren't at the top. I tug at my mom's arm as we step off the elevator. She looks down at me, "We have one more elevator to go and... oh no." She glances at her watch and gets that panicked look again.
"Excuse-moi, madame?"
My mom looks up. There's a guy wearing a uniform. He has a nametag, so I know he's official. He gives us both a sad smile. I didn't know smiles could be sad, but the guy looks sad. "You're the one with the little boy? We heard. Come this way."
My mom thanks him, and we move around the crowd of people and get into another elevator. This one goes straight up, instead of the other one, which went diagonally. The ground gets further away, and I grip her tighter. "Why do people look sad when they smile?"
"Because, Terrance, sometimes they don't know how to react. Sad smiles sometimes make people feel better - like they aren't being pitied." My mom kisses me on the forehead.
I still don't understand what she means. What does "pitied" mean? Who would be pitied? Why would you be pitied by someone? But my mom gets that look in her eye again, and I know the time for questions is over. We are here to save the world, not to ask questions. The elevator opens, and she rushes me off towards the edge.
"Thirty seconds, Terrance." She kneels next to me. "Whatever happens, I love you, and I know you will do the best you can." She gives my shoulders a squeeze but it doesn't make me feel any better.
I stare out at the city, waiting for something as my mom counts backwards slowly, staring at her watch. This place is big. I never realized how big one city could be, but it's huge. It goes on and on and on. There are green places where parks are, and there's tiny cars moving on the streets, and it all goes on for miles. We're so high up that I can't see anyone below us.
As her voice gets down to ten, nine, eight. I feel something. Something I've never felt before. My whole body shivers, and it gets really cold. I look at Ducky, and he's still not saying anything. But I know. I know what I have to do.
I see the bright light in the sky before anyone else. It's there, coming closer, aimed right at us. "One," my mom looks up, and her eyes go wide as she says it. I smile and squeeze her hand.
I kiss Ducky on the forehead and whisper into his ear, "I love you, Ducky. We'll be hippos together some day, okay?" I raise him up over my head as the light gets bigger and bigger. Everyone around us breathes in and starts to scream. I get on my tip toes and hold Ducky out as far as he will go. The light gets brighter, and the screaming is so loud that I almost can't hear Ducky tell me that it will be okay. It's the first thing he's ever said.
My mom's hands go around me, holding me as I lean more and more over the edge. A few people gasp. And there it is. A giant ship, hovering in the sky. It's bigger than my house. And I can see the strange creatures inside it. They aren't like people, but they are like people. They look exactly like me, except they have maroon skin. They stare right at me, right at Ducky.
Another flash and Ducky isn't in my hands anymore.
A small maroon creature holds him in his hands inside the ship. He stares out at me. And I stare back. He plucks off Ducky's eye and holds it up to me. His white hair flops into his eyes. I smile and nod at him. I understand, I understand that they need it back. It's the missing piece. They always needed it back. But I can't help but cry as I see Ducky, sitting limp in the maroon creature's hands. The creature picks up something else and holds it up to Ducky. He does something, but I can't see it. Another flash of light and they are gone. Everyone around me glances at each other and scratches their heads.
Even my mom looks at me strange. "What happened, Terrance?" She looks around, frantic. "Oh my goodness, are we in France?!" Her face looks different from the secret agent ninja pirate robot woman I knew seconds ago. She looks scared. She looks down at me and asks, "Where's Ducky?"
I don't understand why she's asking. "I saved the world, remember? We came here to save the world?"
She gives me a bright smile, "Of course you did." She squeezes my hand. "But where's Ducky?"
I shake my head. "The boy with maroon skin took him." I don't know how I know he was a boy, but he was. A boy like me, a boy getting back something that was always his. Another tear comes to my eye, and I wipe it away. I won't cry for Ducky, not anymore. I'm just sad I never got to be a hippo with him.
My mom's quiet the rest of the trip home. She doesn't say much. She pretends not to know who Horace is. I think she's playing a funny game, but she still never talks about him. When we get home, my dad answers the door, and I throw my arms around him.
He stares at my mom, "Completely irresponsible."
She gives him a smile, "Can we talk?"
My dad rolls his eyes, "I suppose we should, but I'm still calling the police."
"Oh yeah, they should know that we saved the world," I chime. Both my parents look at me funny. "What? I saved the world."
My mom shrugs at my dad, "He's been saying that the whole time."
"Mom doesn't remember, but I did." I look at both of them.
My dad kneels next to me, "Terrance, I'm glad you're safe." He says, "But can you please go to your room? Your mother and I need some talking time."
I give him another hug and whisper, "Please don't let her go back with them." I pull away and rush up stairs. I turn just long enough to see them staring up at me.
When I push my door open, I gasp. There sits Ducky, with one normal, black eye and one turquoise one, on my pillow. I run over to him and pick him up. A paper crinkles underneath him. I'm not very good at reading, but the paper says:
Dear Terrance,
Thank you for meeting us and returning the part to our ship. Sorry you are the only one who remembers. We can't have the whole world knowing about us. You were once us, we were once you. We watch you, hoping one day you will grow to be beyond war, beyond selfishness, beyond greed and envy. Know that we like you, Terrance. That's why you remember us. Maybe we can communicate someday.
Love,
Lawrence
P.S. I think the part chose you because our names rhyme, pretty neat, huh? Hope you like the new eye. It's a stone only found on our planet. It's said to bring good luck. Our secret, okay?
I can't read a lot of the letter, but I figure someday I'll be able to. I know that Lawrence is the boy I saw. Somehow, he knew how much Ducky meant to me. I fold up the paper and put it under my pillow. I sneak out into the hallway to listen to my mom and dad.
They aren't arguing. In fact, my mom is sitting in the kitchen and they are talking quietly.
"Honestly, Morgan, I have no idea what happened to you..." My dad says, his voice is so quiet. "One day you were normal, the next it was conspiracy theories about the world ending."
"I really don't remember any of this..." My mom laughs lightly. "I wish I did, it sounds... ridiculous that I don't. But going to Paris, none of it makes sense."
"You have to understand, I'm still having them come... I can't risk it, not with Terrance." He is breathing heavy.
She reaches over and pats him on the arm. "I know, love. I understand. I can't imagine what you must have gone through, honestly. Having fake papers made for him? I want to know what kind of drugs they put me on... It's psychotic."
A few hours later, my mom goes back with the secret agents, but it's quiet. It's not like last time. Now I get to see her on weekends. Dad says that someday she'll come home, when she's done serving her time. I don't know what that means, but I figure there must be a secret agent code for how long you need to be an agent. It sounds right, anyway.
My dad wonders how Ducky got back home, after I lost him in Paris. I smile at him and tell him I'll show him. When I reach under my pillow for the note, it's gone. But I still have Ducky's new eye. Maybe I can explain it someday when I meet Lawrence, the boy with maroon skin. Maybe I'll explain it when I understand what he means by we are them and they are us. Even without understanding it, I like how it sounds.
The only thing I'm upset about with this summer vacation? Ducky and I never got to be hippos together. We tried after a rainstorm, but my dad tossed me in the shower and scolded me. I told him mom promised, and he said she would have done no such thing.
So I saved the world, and I can't even roll in the mud with Ducky.
And that's my summer vacation, by me... Terrance Wade.
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