The Quest for the Kid

by Adrienne Kress

  “Are you going to call them?” asked Evie. Sebastian glanced at her. She looked very Evie. Wide-eyed, hopeful, generally excited. But there was something beneath the surface that he couldn’t really read exactly. It was weird. He had missed her so much when they’d been apart, while he’d been kidnapped, until she’d come to rescue him, and he had been so happy when they’d finally come together again. But he’d forgotten just how much pressure it was having her around, him not wanting to let her down. His life wasn’t just about him and his plans anymore.

  He didn’t really answer her question. Just kind of shook his head and nodded at the same time. Then he turned back to the phone.

  Sebastian picked up the receiver. It felt a little sticky.

  “Do you need some change?” Evie’s voice sounded far away, small and thin, like it was coming through the speaker of the phone. Sebastian peered at the phone carefully. He noticed a question mark drawn on it, black on black, almost invisible.

  “Or…should I let you have some space, maybe?”

  Sebastian looked at her again, again no idea what to say. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he nodded. She gave him a quick smile and headed back toward Catherine and Benedict.

  This was it. This was the moment of truth. He had to make this call. But what did he want to say? What did he really want?

  Deep down.

  I think I have to ask them if I can continue to adventure, Sebastian thought. I think if maybe I make it sound like extra credit for school or something, they might think it’s worth it. Seeing the world. Experiencing different cultures.

  That sort of thing.

  It had been the one hope Sebastian had. That his parents would consider such bold exploits a most excellent educational opportunity. But it was a small hope. His parents weren’t that interested in alternative forms of education. Even sending Sebastian to a special math-and-science school had made them a little uncomfortable.

  The biggest problem really was that his parents were smart people. If there was a convincing argument against Sebastian staying with this adventure, they would make it. And there were plenty of those types of arguments. He knew a ton of reasons himself.

  He put the phone to his ear and inserted several coins. He raised his fingers to the key pad and held them there, not pushing down. Instead he ran his fingers over the buttons, feeling the texture of the metal and the bumps of braille indicating to the visually impaired what the numbers were.

  Just do it.

  Or don’t do it.

  But do something. Even if it is nothing.

  The anxiety of not knowing what to do was probably at this point worse than any bad news his parents might share. He’d never felt like this before.

  He felt trapped.

  Sebastian hung up the phone and stared at it, mindlessly wiping the stickiness off his right hand and onto his pants.

  “Well, what did they say?” asked Evie.

  He turned around, shocked. He hadn’t heard her come back.

  Sebastian felt put on the spot. Which was probably why he said what he did. “They are glad that I’m safe.” He gulped quickly before forging on. “And said that they’d tell the school what was going on, and said that as long as I stayed in touch, this seemed like an excellent learning experience.” He widened his eyes in shock at his own lie, wondering whether Evie could tell what he’d just done.

  But she apparently didn’t notice the guilt written all over his face.*2 Or, maybe, chose not to notice. He wasn’t sure. Instead she smiled broadly and clapped her hands. “Oh, yay! Oh, I’m so happy! This is so wonderful!”

  And true to form, she launched herself at him. He was used to her hugs by now, and better prepared, but this hug didn’t make him feel better the way they usually did. Instead it made him feel even more anxious. She released him and said, “I’m going to go tell Catherine and Benedict! Next stop—find the Kid!” She flew off, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts and the sticky phone.

  What had he done? It was one thing to lie to bad guys, something he had come to learn was occasionally necessary in a life-and-death situation. Or to lie to managers of famous K-pop bands, which might be a matter of self-preservation. Even, well, to lie to himself if he needed to make himself feel braver. Sometimes, as he was slowly learning, lying wasn’t always so bad. But there were certain lines that surely, surely should never be crossed. And lying to a friend? To Evie? That felt like a big no-no.

  She waved him over then, still grinning that big toothy grin of hers, and Sebastian’s feet felt like they were sunk deep in quick-drying cement.*3

  If he said something now, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal. If he told her the truth now, he could be forgiven. But then she’d try to convince him to call his parents for real, and then he would have to, and he’d probably get yelled at. He probably would have to go home.

  He’d tell Evie later. Maybe after. Or maybe a perfect time would present itself. Conveniently.

  Besides, she’d understand. She was the one who’d wanted to go on this whole adventure in the first place. She was the one who had wanted his help. She knew how important all this was. And she’d been the one to teach him how to lie in the first place.

  Yes.

  Sebastian mentally unstuck his feet from the imaginary cement.

  She would totally get it.

  She just had to.

  *1 I too have once been seen briefly in a movie where my face was accidentally visible, which is strange because I don’t remember filming that movie….

  *2 Obviously not literally. That’s not a thing that people have written on their faces. Except, that is, for Gerald Haversham, the infamous bank robber, who had a giant tattoo of the word “guilty” on his face and still managed not to be picked out of the police lineup.

  *3 Slow-drying cement, on the other hand, feels pretty much like you’re standing in a puddle. Which is totally fine if you get out of it right away. But if you are enjoying the feeling of cool liquid against your ankles, you might still end up stuck about twelve hours later. Trust me on this one.

  It had taken some effort for them to collect their bags and rent a car and then, despite Benedict’s excellent sense of direction as the team’s cartographer, for Benedict to drive them out of the maze of streets and parking lots that was the airport itself.*1 Eventually they found themselves on their way to the West Coast operations of the Explorers Society, where they would be staying while they searched for the Kid, on the freeway and predictably stuck in heavy traffic. The inability to do anything about it, the fact that they had to sit there and inch along with no possible second option, gave Sebastian a great deal of anxiety.

  And this was on top of the anxiety he was already feeling.

  “We could play a game!” said Evie, sitting next to him in the backseat.

  No one said anything.

  Sebastian glanced over at Evie, but she just shrugged and happily stared out the window. He wondered what it was like to be so sure of oneself the way she was. There had been a time when he’d felt that way too. But it felt like ages ago. Everything had changed ever since the pig in the teeny hat. No! Before that. Ever since he’d seen that sign for the Explorers Society in the alley.

  It turned out that mulling over his confused feelings and his questions about a sense of self was the perfect car game to pass the time. Despite the mess of traffic they were in and the long journey into the city, Sebastian was quite surprised when he heard Catherine say, “We’re here.”

  Sebastian refocused his gaze out the window as they drove off the freeway and into the side streets. “So, this is Hollywood,” he said as they moved onto a wide boulevard with tall palm trees rising up on either side.

  “No,” said Benedict. “This is Los Angeles. That is Hollywood.” He pointed directly ahead as they turned a corner to reveal the green an
d brown hills in the distance and a very famous white sign perched near the top.

  “Oh! The Hollywood sign! That’s so cool!” said Evie, leaning as far forward as her seat belt would allow.

  Sebastian knew of the sign. He’d seen it in movies and such. But the experience now was a little surreal. It was the first time he’d ever seen the sign when a camera hadn’t been up close, or zooming over top of it. When swelling music wasn’t being played. When it was kind of just a sign. And small-looking, being far away and high up. He was feeling almost disappointed.

  Clearly, though, not Evie. “I’ve never seen it like this—in the distance, but right in front of me. It’s so…real.”

  Sebastian wasn’t sure what that meant. So instead of saying anything, he sat back in his seat and rolled down his window. The warm air filled the car, smelling vaguely of citrus.*2 He watched as the storefronts got nicer- and nicer-looking, and the people got shinier. One woman he saw wore the largest sunglasses he’d ever seen, and he was pretty sure they were framed with diamonds. The woman’s tiny dog appeared to have its own diamond collar.

  The street they were on opened up onto an even wider boulevard, and the palm trees now ran along either side at regular intervals. Sebastian arched his neck to look at them.

  “Such strange things when you think about it,” said Evie, doing the same on her side of the car. “Long sticks with leaves way at the top. And coconuts.” She squinted, holding her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “Are there coconuts on palm trees in Los Angeles? Do movie stars have a constant fear of them falling on their heads or, more likely, denting the hoods of their expensive cars? Like fish?”

  “Like fish?” asked Sebastian.

  “Sometimes fish fall on people from the sky,” said Evie like it was something perfectly normal.

  “They do,” agreed Catherine from up front.

  “Well, okay then,” Sebastian said, not really knowing what else to say.

  They continued on their drive, leaving the ritzy neighborhood, and eventually made their way into one that, while it wasn’t at all like Sebastian’s neighborhood at home, felt a lot more like his neighborhood at home. But the houses weren’t as tall, and they had arches and tiled roofs. They were also painted various vibrant colors like blue, pink, and orange. Still, they looked cozy and like houses built for families.

  A knot formed in his gut then. The reminder of home. And parents. It was hard to know what the guilt was specifically referring to, though, in this moment. Was it that his parents were probably totally upset with his not coming home or that he’d lied to Evie about them? He didn’t want to guess which it was, because either possibility was pretty bad, and feeling one and not the other, regardless of which one, would only make the guilt worse.

  “This is nice,” said Evie. “Is this where the West Coast Explorers Society is?”

  “No,” replied Catherine. “That is.”

  Above the rooftops was a towering black skyscraper wedged between two smaller silver ones. On the flight over, Sebastian had been surprised to learn that there was another Explorers Society building. He had also been surprised he was surprised. Of course, it made perfect sense that there would be, and he’d felt instantly let down by his own logic that hadn’t quickly realized that obviously the nature of the job would dictate that there were explorers everywhere, all over the country—all over the world, for that matter. And they needed places, therefore, to meet up or sleep over no matter where they were.

  “And you’ve been banned from it too? From every building that the society has?” Evie had asked Catherine.

  “Yes,” Catherine had replied softly. “But, like with the East Coast, the West Coast has agreed to help us until we find Alistair. And then…” She’d stopped and looked a little sad.

  Now as Sebastian stared at the tall black building rising above the houses, he wondered what all this meant. Not for Evie or for him. But for the former members of the Filipendulous Five. To return to a place where you weren’t wanted. Somewhere that had once been home.

  He threw Evie a glance. She returned it, looking pretty much as he felt.

  He turned back. “So that’s West Coast operations? That’s huge,” he said.

  “Not the entire building,” Benedict explained. “It also contains two acting agencies, one modeling agency, and the place where they determine the expiration dates on food packages.” The building vanished from sight behind some trees just as Benedict pulled into a small driveway and slowed to a stop next to a Spanish colonial home. Rolling down the window, he leaned out and pushed a buzzer attached to a small speaker. There was the sound of white noise crackling, and then: “Password.”

  Benedict glanced at Catherine, who quickly passed him a piece of paper.

  He read it: “Marco.”

  There was a pause. “Polo,” answered the scratchy voice from the speaker.

  The garage door opened. Sebastian was confused. If they were going to that black skyscraper in the distance, why were they parking at this house?

  Unless…

  “This is going to be another special garage, isn’t it?” asked Sebastian.

  “Another?” asked Evie.

  “Yeah. The K-pop band had a secret entrance to their place too,” replied Sebastian as they drove straight into a small single-car garage.

  The inside of this one certainly did not look special, but if his experience with the most popular K-pop band in South Korea, the Lost Boys, had taught him anything about secret entrances through garages, Sebastian knew looks could be deceiving. The garbage can in the corner, the kids’ bikes leaning against the wall to his side, they all seemed innocent enough. And maybe they were. Then again, so did the shelves along the rear wall they were facing, piled high with tools and Christmas decorations and school projects from years ago.*3 But the shelves began to sink into the earth, and a grinding noise suddenly started to shake the car. A large, bouncy workout ball tumbled off the very top shelf and rolled by Evie’s door, as if to say, What the heck is going on? I’m outta here!

  “Whoa,” said Evie as the shelves completely vanished into the ground and revealed a steep ramp down into the darkness beyond. “Cool.”

  Benedict started the car moving again and carefully maneuvered into the tight space in front of them, driving into a long dim tunnel lit at intervals.

  “Let’s not forget how they feel about us here,” said Catherine. “Please be on your best behavior.”

  Evie made a sound that Sebastian took to mean she’d found that request a little insulting. To be honest, so did he. He and Evie were always on their best behavior. At least whenever possible. At least when they weren’t being chased by bad guys. Besides, they weren’t the problem; the Filipendulous Five were. If anything, he and Evie should be keeping an eye on Catherine and Benedict.

  But neither of them said anything. Instead they sat in silence as the car traveled on for what felt like forever.

  Eventually the tunnel opened up and they discovered they were…inside a parking garage again. But this one was much larger, with many levels and many cars. They pulled up to an enthusiastic man in a bright red jacket waving his arms at them. He motioned for Benedict to roll down his window.

  “Hello! I’ll take the car now,” said the enthusiastic man.

  Benedict nodded and turned to the others. “I guess they have a valet to park for us. Everyone out!”

  They piled out of the car, grabbed their things, and stood as the man jumped happily into the front seat and sped off, leaving them quite alone.

  “Now what?” asked Evie.

  Sebastian glanced around the cavernous space. Then he noticed something totally out of place. “Uh…maybe we follow that?”

  Everyone turned to see a red carpet that ran right through the center of the garage and disappeared in the distance.

 
“Yes, I think we do,” said Catherine.

  Across the garage, they followed the red carpet wending this way and weaving that way, until it ended eventually at a small wooden desk. Behind the desk sat a man who seemed to have walked straight out of a very fancy magazine ad. He was wearing brown tweed pants, a brown tweed vest, and a creaseless crisp blue shirt.

  “Welcome,” he said, standing up to his precise six feet and smiling with teeth so white that Sebastian had to blink a few times.*4 “Sign in, please.”

  They took turns signing their names with a pen-shaped metal stick onto a computer tablet, and then the man with a twinkle perfectly situated at a sixty-seven-degree angle in his right eye led them to a bank of elevator doors that opened directly when they arrived. They stepped inside, and the four of them turned in time to see the man give them a pleasant nod as the elevator doors shut and they were whooshed in the general direction of up.

  “That was a very good-looking explorer,” said Evie, breaking the silence.

  “Oh, well, from what I’ve been told about West Coast operations, he’s not an explorer. He’s an actor. He’s the Explorers Society concierge between acting gigs,” replied Catherine.

  “An actor!” said Sebastian, more loudly than he probably should have, as they shot out of the dark and were surrounded, on three sides and below, by Los Angeles views.

  “Oh!” said Evie. Unlike Sebastian, she made her exclamation at just the correct volume that one would expect in response to such a sight. It was a dizzying experience, looking down at the ground falling far away below them. Around them Los Angeles seemed to smile in greeting in her hazy way. The sun was glinting off the Pacific Ocean in the distance, and the bright glow warmed the faces of the elevator occupants.

  They stood in rapt silence for a moment, gazing around them, taking in, Sebastian was pretty sure, not just the view, but the whole experience of being whisked up to the society and what was waiting for them. And suddenly they were surrounded by black again. And then the elevator stopped.