Twelve-year-old Sam London believed the term “middle school” described the grades between elementary school and high school perfectly. These were transformative years that saw students grow from playful children into rebellious teenagers. Of course, in school, as in life, being in the middle of anything was never all that comfortable. In the middle meant you were neither getting started nor about to finish. You were trapped between two stages of life—old enough to know better, yet too young to be trusted with major responsibilities.
But for Sam London, middle school had taken on a whole new level of discomfort. Maybe it was all the fantastical things he had experienced just weeks earlier on his adventure to save the gryphon’s claw. Perhaps it was the now-constant presence of the Guardian Tashi, who attended school with Sam and acted as his secret bodyguard. Maybe it was that Sam’s new pet/companion was a shape-shifting raccoon-dog named Nuks who masqueraded as Sam whenever needed. Or it could be the fact that Sam’s new teacher was an old friend reincarnated as a human being without any knowledge of his previous life as a mythical dog-man. Point being, life had recently been pretty exciting for Sam London, and now it was anything but.
School, homework, sleep, became wash, rinse, repeat. It was Sam’s routine, day in and day out. He did have a small semblance of a social life in the form of birthday parties he was invited to or random activities his mom enrolled him in. As for simply hanging out with the boys, Sam had never been the type to have a large circle of friends to play video games with or just shoot hoops. Sam had classmates but no best friends. Most of the kids thought he was an odd duck, including the other odd ducks.
Sam’s mom, Odette London—or Ettie, as people called her—was always encouraging Sam to make friends, and he had made a few lackluster attempts in the past. However, if making friends had been difficult for Sam before his adventure with Dr. Vance Vantana, now it seemed nearly impossible. How could he be friends with someone and not share the life-changing truth that mythical creatures are real and living among us, but a centuries-old gryphon’s curse renders them invisible to human eyes? How could he relate to someone who didn’t—and couldn’t—know anything about this secret? This was why he hung out with Tashi so much, besides the fact that she rarely, if ever, left his side; after all, she had been sworn to protect his life with her own and was steadfastly committed to the cause. But at least she knew the truth and Sam didn’t have to be so careful with his words around her. And besides, Sam’s focus was not on friend-making; rather, it was on preparing for his next case.
Since returning from his first adventure, Sam woke up every day with an anxious excitement that today would be the day when he’d be called on to help the Department of Mythical Wildlife with a new investigation. In the days that followed, Sam started watching the news and scouring the internet for any hint of a potential assignment or any sign of the world that he knew existed, but he consistently came up empty. The secret remained quite secret. Of course, there were dozens of internet sites devoted to cryptids—creatures and plants that the scientific community didn’t recognize as real. And there was even a television show that followed the exploits of Boone “the Wildman” Walker, a self-described monster hunter who traveled the world seeking proof of the existence of legendary creatures, but never found any evidence. As for the individuals who claimed to have seen bigfoot or a chupacabra, Sam figured they either had mythical DNA and didn’t know it or their eyes were just playing tricks on them. So without any indication of recent sightings and no communication from Dr. Vantana, Sam had reluctantly settled into his humdrum life and started to quietly wonder if the call would ever come.
It was a Friday in spring when things finally changed. Sam awoke to find Nuks missing from his bed. A moment later, the raccoon-dog entered the room in Sam’s form. It was still an odd feeling for Sam to stare at a duplicate of himself. He imagined it was similar to what twins experienced.
“Why are you—” Sam started, finding it strange that Nuks would be up and posing as Sam this early on a school day.
“Your mom is cleaning the house,” Nuks explained, interrupting. “I thought I would help and that would help you.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know?” Sam said. “It’s not your responsibility. Next time check with me.”
“Oh yes. Yes, of course. I’m very sorry, Sam. So sorry,” Nuks replied, instantly unnerved and jittery. Sam noticed.
“Nuks, you gotta stop freaking out whenever I tell you something,” he told the raccoon-dog in his most pleasant tone. “I’m not going to send you away, okay? You’ll always have a home here. Always.” Nuks softened and smiled.
Sam found himself having to constantly remind the creature that he wasn’t going to abandon him over the slightest slipup. Nuks adored having a family and a roof over his head, and he would do anything to keep it that way. Normally, a shape-shifting raccoon-dog was prohibited from passing itself off as a human’s pet, but Nuks had found a loophole and had become the envy of his kind.
In return, Nuks had grown into a loyal, trusted friend for Sam. The best part was he never complained and was eager to follow Sam’s lead. In fact, when Ettie wanted Sam to do an activity he dreaded, Sam would send Nuks in his place—in Sam’s form, of course. Tashi was critical of this, as she believed Sam was taking advantage of the creature’s natural desire to please. But Nuks genuinely loved the opportunity to discover new things. Over the past few weeks, he had learned about the origins of folk music, taken a beginner’s ballet class, done some woodworking, and even gone geocaching. The latter activity had proven problematic, as Nuks consistently relied on his nose to sniff out the hidden caches, instead of using the GPS device. This led to an awkward exchange between Ettie and the leader of the geocaching day camp, who was concerned about Sam’s mental state but also wildly impressed with his canine-like olfactory senses.
“There’s a bag of granola in my desk—help yourself,” Sam offered to Nuks as a reward for his cleaning. The creature grinned broadly and walked toward the desk, but Sam put his hand up. “Not as me…”
“Oh, right. Of course,” Nuks responded, transforming hurriedly back into his natural form and scurrying the rest of the way to the waiting granola.
Sam eyed the door to his room with trepidation. If his mom was up early cleaning the house, it could mean only one thing: Ettie’s famous “spring thing.” It was an annual tradition Sam dreaded, when his mom would clean the house from top to bottom. She became a tornado of tidiness, and Sam would inevitably get sucked into the storm. Although he didn’t despise cleaning, he had developed a love-hate relationship with the “spring thing” because of a rule Ettie had instituted that said if something hadn’t been used in three years, it was relegated to the donation pile. Sam was an unabashed pack rat and loathed this rule.
To work around his mother’s unjust decree, Sam would try to use everything in his possession within a three-year time span. That way, when Ettie asked, Sam could answer honestly. Of course, Sam defined the word “use” quite liberally in this instance—often meaning he simply touched the belonging in question. This worked for exactly two “spring things” before Ettie got wise to her son’s ruse and began interrogating him.
“Did you actually use it, or just pick it up and put it back down, Sam?” she would ask. At that point, Sam would capitulate and admit the truth. More recently he had begun initiating a new tack when dealing with his mother’s insistence on tossing his cherished possessions: he would purposely keep things he didn’t want anymore. This had the advantage of satisfying his mom’s thirst for getting rid of his stuff while allowing him to keep the things he really cared about. But he knew it was probably just a matter of time before she figured out his new scheme and began exacting more sacrifices.
Sam sucked in a breath and ventured into the hallway. What he found shocked him. The attic access door in the hallway ceiling was open, and there was a stepladder placed beneath it. Despite a repeated promise to clean the cramped, unfinished storage space during the “spring thing,” his mother had always wound up getting too tired and would put it off for another year. The cramped unfinished storage space was chock-full of boxes, old vacuums, and who knew what else. And now it appeared that Ettie finally had the time to tackle it.
“Nothing short of a miracle, huh?” Ettie said, finding Sam frozen in the hallway. Sam nodded, still staring in awe. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to get to the attic without your help this morning. I can’t thank you enough. You’re really such a good kid.” As she spoke those last few words, she smiled lovingly at Sam and mussed his hair.
Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty for taking the credit for Nuks’s hard work. As a way of placating his conscience, Sam had begun responding to this sort of praise in an unusual manner.
“I’ll let him know you said that,” Sam replied, to which his mom grinned.
“Right, you do that.” Ettie laughed. She seemed amused at Sam’s new response and likely thought it was simply Sam being his goofy self. Sam didn’t necessarily mind being thought of as goofy, especially if it meant he could rest easier knowing he wasn’t stealing all the glory from his friend. “Oh, and while you’re telling yourself thanks, also tell yourself you’re late. We’re leaving for school in ten minutes, not a minute more,” Ettie added before slipping past Sam and heading for the stairs.
“Okay. I just have to get dressed and eat something,” Sam replied.
“Eat something?” Ettie stopped and asked with surprise. “You polished off all the doughnuts, and you’re still hungry? With the amount of sugar you ate, you should be able to run to school faster than I could drive you.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. I was just joking,” Sam said quickly, trying to cover his misstep as he turned back toward his room. There he saw Nuks curled up near the window.
“You didn’t save me any doughnuts?” he asked after closing the door. The raccoon-dog lifted his head slowly.
“You wanted some?” he replied with a genuine innocence.
“Of course. But you helped clean—you deserved them. I’ll just have to settle for some of that granola,” Sam said with a shrug. Nuks’s eyes widened in guilty surprise.
“You wanted some?”
It was not ten but twenty minutes later when Sam and Ettie finally emerged from the house, headed for school. Tashi was already waiting patiently by the car, as she had every day since Sam suggested to his mother that they give the new girl a ride to school. Ettie found the gesture sweet and interpreted it to mean that Sam had a crush. Sam’s adamant denials only further convinced Ettie that this was the case. If there was one upside to his mother’s false assumption, it was that she no longer referred to Nerida Nyx as Sam’s future wife. Nerida was a childhood friend whose mother happened to be Ettie’s best friend. Ettie teased Sam relentlessly about Nerida, so this was a nice, albeit annoying, change of pace.
“Sorry we’re late, Tashi,” Ettie said, out of breath as she scrambled for her keys and unlocked the car. “It’s been a hectic morning.”
Tashi climbed into the front seat while Sam jumped into the back. Although the passenger seat had always been Sam’s spot, he had relinquished it after an incident on the first day of carpooling, when he had yelled “shotgun” to stake his claim on the front seat. Tashi, being unfamiliar with the term, thought Sam was shouting a warning. In response, the Guardian switched into full-on protection mode and tackled him. It took a few minutes to explain the phrase and calm Tashi down. Ettie wasn’t sure what to make of it all until Sam convinced her it was a cultural misunderstanding—and that in Tashi’s village, the passenger seat is relegated to the female.
As Ettie pulled the car out of the driveway with a light screech of rubber, Tashi glanced over at Sam’s mother.
“Will you be late again on Monday?” the Guardian asked matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?” Ettie replied, surprised by the question.
“We’ll be on time, I promise,” Sam piped in, trying to avoid an ugly situation. His mom looked back at him in the rearview mirror, and Sam gave her a shrug.
“That is reassuring,” Tashi said. “It is neither honorable nor respectful to be tardy.”
“Excuse me?” Ettie repeated, her voice clearly more irritated. Sam leapt back into the fray.
“It’s cool, Mom. It’s just a cultural thing,” Sam explained, relying on his standard excuse for Tashi’s odd behavior.
“Oh, right,” Ettie replied. “Of course.”
Tashi peered back at Sam. “I don’t believe this to be—”
Sam glared at Tashi, pleading with his eyes and placing a shushing finger to his lips. Tashi caught on. She turned toward Ettie and attempted to calm the proverbial waters.
“Thank you for the ride, Ms. London,” Tashi offered with her singular slight smile. “You look very…pretty today,” she added awkwardly.
“Thank you, Tashi,” Ettie said with a grin. Sam threw Tashi a secret thumbs-up, which she acknowledged with a small nod. Ettie continued, “You look pretty as well. Doesn’t she, Sam?”
The relief he’d felt quickly vanished, and Sam fought to keep his cheeks from blushing. This was a typical Ettie ploy to force Sam into complimenting a female of his age. She used to do it constantly with Nerida, and it always led to an uncomfortable exchange. What could Sam do but agree?
“Yes, she does,” Sam concurred.
Tashi immediately shifted her eyes to Sam. Her expression was one of surprise, and her signature slight smile grew less slight. Ettie caught Sam’s eye in the mirror and winked, believing she was doing her part to help her son with his latest crush.
Sam managed to avoid any more forced compliments for the rest of the car ride, and once they arrived, he headed toward the school, with Tashi a step or two behind. He had come to accept the Guardian following him like this, as it was certainly better than when she’d been at Sam’s side and everyone just assumed they were a couple. Sam had become sensitive to this notion ever since Nerida asked him about it. He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn’t like the idea of Nerida thinking he had a girlfriend. Of course, he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself why he didn’t like that.
Unfortunately, the few steps of separation between the pair didn’t seem to eliminate all speculation.
“Sam and Tashi sitting in a tree…,” a trio of girls sang teasingly. Before they could finish their tired jibe, Tashi stopped walking and interrupted.
“Sitting in a tree?” the Guardian asked thoughtfully. Then she quickly added, “If you are speaking of my time living in a tree in the place you call Benicia Park, I can assure you that Sam—”
Before she had a chance to get out another word and embarrass both of them, Sam pulled her away. The Guardian was a formidable warrior, but she lacked any social savvy and as such remained completely oblivious to her tormentors’ mean-spirited ways.
“Ignore them, Tashi,” he told her. “They’re just trying to upset you.”
“Upset me?” she replied, appearing confounded.
“Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “You know, make you feel bad about yourself. Hurt your feelings—”
“By using words?” she asked, clearly still not getting it. Sam nodded. “And they are not banshees?”
“No, Tashi, they aren’t banshees,” Sam replied, stifling a laugh. “Listen, don’t worry about it. It’s just one of those stupid human things.”
Tashi nodded, as if suddenly understanding. “Ah yes,” she said. “Like the girls who paint their faces for reasons other than going into battle.”
“Sure…,” Sam said slowly. “Sort of like that.” He was gradually coming to terms with the fact that there would be some aspects of his world that Tashi would never completely understand. But that was okay. There was plenty about Tashi’s culture and the world of mythical creatures that Sam would likely never fully comprehend either.
“Did you hear from Dr. Vantana?” Tashi asked as they walked into the school.
“Not yet,” Sam replied with disappointment, before leaving the Guardian to head to his locker.
“Be mindful of your surroundings,” Tashi called out to him, like she did every day. He gave her a lethargic thumbs-up without turning around.
When Sam reached his locker, he was surprised—and a little disheartened—to see that Nerida wasn’t there. She had the locker next to his and could always be found standing in front of it at the same time every morning. If it were any other student, it wouldn’t be all that strange, but Nerida never missed a day of school. In fact, she had gotten the perfect attendance award every year for as long as Sam could remember. Maybe she was late or had just gone to class early, he speculated. He’d probably see her at lunch in the library, since he’d been spending his lunchtimes there researching mythical creatures in order to be at the top of his game for the next case, and Nerida could always be found in the library on Fish Fridays. She was apparently highly allergic to seafood and had to self-quarantine indoors for the whole period. Without Nerida to grab his attention, Sam grabbed his books and was quickly off to start the school day.
Sam’s last class before lunch was English with Mr. Canis, who was the human reincarnation of Sam’s cynocephalus friend, Chriscanis, the latter having returned to Gaia at the hands of the Beast of Gevaudan. Mr. Canis was halfway through the day’s lesson when the unthinkable happened.
“Sam?” a muffled voice said, jolting Sam out of a daydream. He sat up straight and looked to his teacher attentively.
“Yes?” Sam answered.
“Yes, what?” Mr. Canis replied.
“You called my name,” Sam said. The rest of the class broke out into a smattering of giggles.
“I did not,” Mr. Canis said. “Perhaps you misheard me.”
“Oh…sorry,” Sam apologized, feeling embarrassed. He chalked it up to his daydream and focused back on the lesson.
“Sam?” the muffled voice called out again, this time sounding anxious. Sam suddenly realized it was not coming from his teacher or his daydream—it was emanating from the DMW badge in his book bag. He scrambled to find the device before the voice of Dr. Vantana spoke again. Unfortunately, he pulled it out just as the doctor decided to try once more.
“Sam London!” the doctor shouted, the button almost jumping out of Sam’s hand. The anxiety in Vantana’s voice had been replaced with irritation. Sam’s classmates were now all staring at him. Most were shocked by the flagrant rule-breaking, while a few others watched excitedly for the imminent confrontation with Mr. Canis like the incident was some kind of spectator sport. Sam quickly brought the badge up to his mouth and whispered, “Hang on.”
“Mr. London—is there a problem?” Mr. Canis asked as he walked around his desk and approached Sam.
“No, sir. But I was wondering if I might use the restroom.”
“What’s that in your hand?” the teacher inquired.
“My hand? Uh…n-n-nothing,” Sam stammered.
“Let me see it,” Mr. Canis demanded firmly. Sam felt a knot in the pit of his stomach as he handed the badge over, crossing his fingers and wishing for it to keep quiet. The teacher took the badge and examined it.
“It’s just a toy. I must have forgotten to turn it off,” Sam explained, hoping it wouldn’t draw any further scrutiny. But Mr. Canis appeared intrigued by the item.
“A toy?” he wondered, as if not quite buying it. His eyes zeroed in on the inscription. “Department of—”
“Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Sam interjected, fearing the doctor would call again at any moment. He whispered to the teacher, “I gotta go pretty bad. Number one, number two, and maybe even number three.” This spurred a smile from Mr. Canis.
“Oh dear,” the teacher whispered back. “You’d best get a move on, then. Grab the hall pass on the way out.”
As Sam stood up, he gestured to the badge. “Can I?” Mr. Canis eyed his pupil with suspicion. “I promise you won’t see it ever again. Second chance?” Sam added with a pleading smile. Mr. Canis considered it, then slowly handed the badge over.
“No third chances.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Sam said with seriousness.
The second Sam reached the bathroom, he pulled the badge back out, pressed the shiny metal face, and spoke.
“Dr. Vantana? Are you still there? It’s Sam London.” A moment later the doctor answered.
“My apologies, Sam,” Vantana said in his signature Southern drawl. “I forgot about school. Do you need me to ring you up later?”
Sam had already waited long enough to hear anything from the doctor—he wasn’t going to wait any longer.
“No, sir. How can I help?”
“Well, we’ve got ourselves a bit of a situation,” Vantana replied.
“What kind of situation?” Sam asked.
“The kind that’s made its way into the news. We’re on the case, kid, and I’m on my way.”