Zeke Bartholomew

by Jason Pinter

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, I thought. You’re back to being just plain old Zeke Bartholomew, Seventh-Grade Loser.

  Sometimes I didn’t like what my internal monologue had to say to me.

  That afternoon, once the final bell had rung, I met Kyle and we trudged through the hall on the way to the bus back home. We were both still limping and aching, but I was more sad than anything. I felt like a world had opened up in front of me, a world I’d always dreamed about being a part of, and then just as quickly closed on my face.

  I was just plain old Ezekiel Bartholomew. Time to get used to it.

  We left the school, threading our way through dozens of kids chatting, fooling around, done for the day. I was looking forward to seeing my dad again, but that was all. Once that school bus door closed, it was back to the usual.

  I saw the bus idling, waiting for us. I frowned and kept walking.

  “Hey, uh, Zeke,” Kyle said, nudging me in the arm, right on a big old bruise.

  “Ow, easy, big guy. What’s up?”

  “Look.”

  I stared off to where Kyle was pointing. And there, standing beside the bus, wearing a skirt and button-down top and carrying a regular backpack, was Sparrow.

  “Isn’t that—?” Kyle said.

  “It is.” I jogged over to Sparrow. A smile beamed across my face. I couldn’t say the same for her; she looked as though her clothes might have well been made out of wasp stingers.

  “I don’t know how you people can wear things like this every day,” Sparrow said.

  “What do you mean? They’re just clothes.”

  “Ugh, regular fibers are like wearing chicken wire. I’d go crazy if I had to wear wretched things like this every day.”

  “I don’t know, I guess we just do.”

  “Well, until you’ve worn a uniform made out of Certivan fibers, you don’t know what comfortable is.”

  “Certivan fibers?” I asked.

  “It’s what all SNURP uniforms are made from. Most comfortable, elastic, and breathable material in the world. Feels like you’re wearing tissue paper, only it weighs less and can deflect small arms fire. Costs about twenty thousand dollars a suit.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Where can I get one of those suits?”

  “You can’t,” Sparrow said. She waited a moment, then added, “Unless you’re a member of SNURP.”

  I sighed. “A boy can dream.”

  I toed the ground, not sure of what to say. I was glad to see Sparrow again, but it also reminded me of all the adventures I would never have.

  “So what do you say, Zeke?” she said.

  “What do you mean, what do I say?”

  “Well, when I got back to HQ yesterday, I filled my bosses in on the kid who was responsible for saving the world. For taking down Le Carré and Ragnarok and preventing millions of kids from getting brainwashed by those PB&J drones.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You did a great job. The world owes you a debt of gratitude.”

  “Not me, stupid. You.” She jabbed her thumb into yet another one of my bruises. (I swear, they must have been glowing or something.)

  “Muh…muh…me?” I stammered.

  “Yes, you, stupid.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, feeling like my heart was on fire. “Why me?”

  “Well,” Sparrow answered, scratching at her clothing like it contained live insects. “You can’t fight. You’re not very skilled with traditional weaponry.”

  “Duly noted,” I said under my breath.

  “You’re not very big. You’re not very strong. And you don’t run very fast.”

  “Okay, if you’re just going to insult me…”

  “But what you do have,” Sparrow said, “is resolve. You have an incredible resilience that I haven’t seen in many SNURP trainees. Much of the other things we can teach. We can teach you how to fight. How to disarm. How to disappear. How to evade capture. But you cannot teach someone heart. And that is why we want you to join us.”

  I smiled. My heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Now, think about this before you say anything. If you accept,” Sparrow said, “your life will never be the same. You will receive training that will test every fiber of your being. You will be challenged physically and mentally to degrees you never thought possible. You will say good-bye to your old life and begin a new one.”

  “Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Are you saying—?”

  “I’ve been given authorization to make you an offer to join the elite SNURP training program. Only the best and brightest kids from all over the world are asked to join. You will become a trainee in the most elite spy program in the world. You’ve proven yourself worthy this one time, Zeke. Now, are you willing to prove it the rest of your life?”

  “Wait, are you serious?” I said.

  “Do you see the clothes I’m wearing?” Sparrow said. “Do you think I would put on such awful clothes if I didn’t have a job to do? You proved yourself resourceful. You have a lot of work to do, Zeke, if you say yes. Well, what’s your answer?”

  I didn’t say a word, but instead threw my arms around Sparrow and gave her the biggest hug of my life. She pushed away from me, coughed, and smoothed out her clothing.

  “Rule number one: no hugging in SNURP. You will act professional.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sparrow handed me a card. There was an address written on it.

  “One month from today you will arrive at this address at exactly nine o’clock in the morning. Your school year will be finished. You will tell your father you’ve gotten a scholarship to the Camp Crystal Lagoon summer camp. We will provide all necessary paperwork and documentation to back up your claim.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said.

  “Your training will start then.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Sparrow put out her hand. I looked at it, then shook it.

  “You do know that you destroyed SirEebro, a piece of equipment valued at close to a billion dollars.”

  I gulped. “Um, are they going to bill me or something?”

  Sparrow smiled. “Not literally. But I’m sure Master Zhen will make you pay for it in training.

  “Master Zhen?”

  “You’ll meet him soon. He’ll teach you fighting techniques that have saved my life dozens of times. Provided you don’t mind having every one of your limbs bent like a pretzel.”

  “I, um, can’t wait.”

  Sparrow nodded at me respectfully. “Good luck, Sea Otter.”

  “Sea otter?” I said, confused.

  “The day you begin your training, you will be given the rank of sea otter.”

  “Um, not exactly the most dangerous or intimidating animal. Can’t we go with polar bear or wombat or something?”

  “That’s the point. You start at the very bottom of the food chain. You might have done well this time, Zeke, but a SNURP agent does not rest on his laurels. You begin as a sea otter. Warm and cuddly. As you prove yourself, you will rise through the ranks. You will become more skilled. More dangerous. And then, only then, will you be feared.”

  “And then maybe I get ditch the whole sea otter thing. What rank are you?” I asked.

  Sparrow just smiled. “Enjoy the rest of the school year, Zeke. Be ready. Keep it a secret. Even from your closest friends and family. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

  Then Sparrow began to walk away.

  “Hey!” I called out. She turned around. “You never told me your name.”

  Sparrow just smiled and said, “One month, Bartholomew. Get ready.”

  I watched her as she crossed the street and disappeared.

  Kyle joined me. I
was still standing there, dumbstruck.

  “What did she say?” he asked.

  “Oh, uh, nothing. Just saying good-bye and thanks. She also told me how brave and handsome I am.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I am.”

  Kyle laughed. “Come on, Zeke. Back to our boring lives.”

  As we boarded the school bus, I said to Kyle, “You know, I’m thinking about going to summer camp this year.”

  Two days later. Just a normal kid again. Sigh. Time for more meatloaf…

  The school bus pulled up in front of my house. I said good-bye to Kyle and limped my way down the stairs. For some reason, my house looked newer. The colors brighter. The grass more inviting. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

  My dad greeted me inside.

  “Hey, Zeke, how was school?”

  “Same old, same old.”

  “That’s nice. Hey, you know that family that just moved in next door? You know, the old Wickersham place?”

  I turned to him, hesitant. “Yeah…”

  “Well, they’re gone already.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. A bunch of vans pulled up this morning, took everything but the kitchen sink out, and left. Guess the place wasn’t what they thought it would be.”

  I looked out the window. All the security cameras were gone. There was no sign of life. “No. I guess not.”

  “Oh, well. One less neighbor to borrow sugar from.”

  “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yes, Zeke?”

  “I was thinking about going to summer camp this year.”

  My dad smiled. “I think that’s a great idea. Experience the outdoors. Have some adventures. What brought this on?”

  “Oh, nothing,” I said dreamily. “Just about time I start living.”

  “Well, I’m all in favor. We can talk about it later.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Oh, and, Zeke, somebody dropped this off for you today.”

  He handed me a small package, crudely wrapped. There was nothing written on it except for my name in large Magic Marker.

  “I’m gonna go read a book. Glad you’re home, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  My heart was bursting out of my chest. It was from Sparrow, I knew it. Information about SNURP and my summer camp cover.

  I tore open the package, unable to contain my joy with what I would find.

  Only there were no pamphlets inside. There was an item inside the package.

  My mouth went dry as I removed it. Looked at it. Turned it over in my hands. I knew exactly what it was, and who it was from.

  Inside the package was a pair of broken sunglasses. And attached to the sunglasses was a note with six simple words that made my blood run cold:

  You’re going to pay for these. —D. L.

  Zeke: Put on the sunglasses I have enclosed in the envelope.

  Zeke: The sunglasses you are currently wearing are optically tailored to your genetic makeup. The page you are reading right now can only be viewed while wearing these glasses, and to anyone else they will appear in look and function like any ordinary cheap sunglasses. Still, your discretion cannot be overstated.

  Starting June 15, you will begin your training. It will not be easy. We will test your mind, your body, and your spirit in ways you cannot imagine. You have been chosen to participate in this program with some of the most talented young spy prodigies in the entire world. Your success depends on your ability to function both as an individual and as part of a group.

  You will be picked up at 10:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time on the morning of June 15. Your transportation will appear as an ordinary school bus. But I assure you, there is nothing ordinary about it.

  Your front is that you will be attending summer camp, specifically Camp Crystal Lagoon in New Hampshire. This camp does not exist, but we have created a facade that will quell doubts of any parents or friends. You are required to pack clothing, accessories, and toiletries as though you will be attending summer camp. None of these articles will come into use during your training; they merely add to your cover as a camper. All clothing and equipment will be provided to you by SNURP at the appropriate times during your training.

  We are eager to begin your training, Zeke Bartholomew. As I have stated, you will begin with the rank of Sea Otter. As you progress in your career, your title will grow as you do. Stay smart. Stay safe. And get ready for the ride of your life.

  Sincerely,

  Sparrow

  When you end the school year saving the world from an evil mastermind bent on world domination while nearly getting blown to bits in a hundred different ways, what do you do during the summer between seventh and eighth grade? Well in my case, you go to summer camp.

  Okay, that’s not entirely true. You see, going to summer camp was the cover story I had to tell my dad and all my friends at school (namely Kyle Quint, who was pretty much my only friend). According to the story, I would be spending close to three months at Camp Crystal Lagoon, a bucolic place nestled in the peaceful woods of New Hampshire. At Crystal Lagoon, I would learn arts and crafts, play handball, go rock climbing, and sit around campfires making s’mores. Yup, a pretty normal summer for a twelve-year-old.

  Only none of it was true.

  The truth of the matter is that I wasn’t going to summer camp. Camp Crystal Lagoon didn’t exist beyond a website and some professional-looking brochures, full of smiling kids and happy counselors. Where I was really going for the summer was a matter of national security. Seriously.

  After I saved the world (yeah, I had to say it again, because, hey, it sounds pretty cool to say), I was offered a spot as an official trainee of the secret spy organization SNURP, which stands for Strategic National Underground Reconnaissance Project. SNURP is a top-secret spy agency, and one of their top spies, a girl my age named Sparrow, who’d helped me save the world (I’m never going to get tired of that), asked if I would take part.

  She told me it would be like nothing I’d ever experienced. That my mind and body would be pushed to the breaking point. That there would be days I’d wish I’d never been born and nights where I’d cry for home. So, naturally, I said yes.

  You see, I’ve always been something of a dreamer. Up until a few months ago, the most exciting moment of my life was accidentally setting my underwear on fire during a terrible Bunsen burner accident during science class. But that all changed.

  I’m not a kid anyone would describe as special. I’m not that tall and not especially athletic; I have reddish brown hair that looks like the victim of a particularly nasty weed whacker; and I often get picked for sports teams after inanimate objects like mops and cleaning supplies. Yet for some reason Sparrow saw something in me, and invited me to go away for the summer to see if I had what it took to become a real spy.

  So right now I’m sitting in my room at 5 Sunnyvale Drive, packing heaps of clothing and accessories into a duffel bag to take with me to SNURP headquarters. I don’t know where the headquarters is, but I was instructed by Sparrow to bring clothing and personal effects that one might take to summer camp. Not that I would be needing my iPod or an e-reader or comic books or a stationary set, but I had to give the impression that I really was going away for summer camp.

  I was scheduled to be picked up in ten minutes, so I was double-checking to make sure I had everything I didn’t need. There was a knock at my door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  The door pushed inward, and my dad stood there. He was wearing tattered jeans and a T-shirt. There was a smile on his face that was a mixture of pride and sadness.

  “Almost done packing?” he asked. “The bus should be here any minute.”

  “Just about,” I replied, pounding the duffel so I could close it. My dad
stepped into the room. He put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Can’t believe you’re going away for so long,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re going. This will be good for you. Get away, get in touch with nature, meet some new friends.”

  “Yeah. Nature.” I couldn’t tell my dad that instead of studying trees I would likely spend most mornings being beaten to a pulp by Sparrow and the SNURP staff. But I felt good. I’d actually been exercising, to train for this day. I’d gotten up to three miles on the treadmill—not too shabby for someone who used to get out of breath carrying his lunch tray twenty feet. This was a day I’d literally dreamed about my whole life. The chance to do something great. Or at least try to do something great before failing miserably.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Zeke,” my dad said.

  “Aw, come on, Dad, I’ll be back. And I’ll write.”

  “You’d better,” he said, laughing.

  I loved my dad more than anything. Ever since my mom died when I was five, we were all we had. He devoted his life to providing a home for me, for being there for me. I think he’d dated here and there, but I think he saw us as a unit, a family, and never wanted to put anyone ahead of me. Including himself.

  “Have fun this summer, Dad,” I said. “Go, like, dancing or something.”

  “Dancing?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, what do old people do for fun?”

  “Oh, so I’m old now?” he said, messing with my hair, which I think actually made it look better. “I’ll be fine. You be safe. And wear bug spray. I got Lyme disease once and it was no picnic.”

  “Wear bug spray. Check. Thanks, Dad.”

  He simply smiled. I wasn’t sure what to say. This would be the longest I’d gone without seeing my dad in my whole life. And for some reason, I was just as worried about him as he was about me.

  A horn blared outside. We checked the window. A long, yellow school bus was parked outside of our driveway. I could see dozens of faces of young kids peering out. Talking. Laughing. Were these the other SNURP trainees? Sure seemed like there were a lot of them.