aaron

Middle School Mystery By Aaron Sege

Jason Fitzpatrick waved to the boy with the sand colored hair. The boy was Jason’s best friend, Hal. Jason walked over to Hal, who was on the sidewalk. It was about to be their first day ever at Kingsville Middle School. They started walking to the clapboard schoolhouse. “How was scout camp, Hal?” Jason inquired. “Fine. How was Math Camp, Jason?” Hal laughed. Jason loathed math, and would never go to math camp. It was their little joke. All of a sudden, a boy in a neatly ironed polo jersey materialized from the Johnston Manse half a block away. “That’s weird, isn’t it? The Johnston Manse was boarded up ages ago, wasn’t it, Hal?” “Yeah, and I don’t recognize him from fifth grade. Why would anyone want to move to Kingsville?” He was right. Most of the people in Kingsville were descendents of the Britons who settled the virgin, fertile land in central North Carolina in 1755. The first governor was Sir James Hansel of Birmingham-by-the-Sea, who was attracted by the promise of good farming land. But now there wasn’t much farming, and most people worked in Raleigh, and the others served those people. “There are almost a million other suburbs identical to Kingsville,” Jason muttered.

When Jason and Hal arrived at Kingsville Middle School, it was a swarm of older kids yelling and waving to old friends. “It’s just like in Gulliver’s Travels. We’ve landed on an unknown island, and the inhabitants speak a strange tongue. But, they’re the big ones, and we’re the small ones.” Hal murmured. The peers made their way to their classroom. They were both in the same homeroom. Before their teacher showed them the ropes, she introduced the students that weren’t at the elementary school. They were all either transferring from a private school to the public school system or didn’t have any friends in their old school in the next town over and wanted to have a fresh start. All except for one. It was the boy in the neatly ironed polo jersey. The teacher started, “This is our new student, Scott Braveman. He tells me his dad is a highly skilled -” she looked uncomfortable “-um, law enforcement professional.” Scott glared at her. “He moved here from London,” she paused and looked sympathetically at the new student “I hope you feel welcome here in Kingsville.” Why had the teacher stammered and Scott glared at her when she mentioned his father’s job, Jason thought. He didn’t seem like the kind of kid whose father had a dishonorable job, like a bookie, or did he? Why would anyone move all the way from England to Kingsville, let alone the Johnston Manse?

When Jason was walking home from school, he passed by the Johnston Manse. Someone was yelling. Jason couldn’t help but listen. “… You told her my job? Lad, I’ll tell you this once more; no one can know I work for the emmie…” the voice trailed off, and then a door slammed. When Jason arrived home, his mom was reading a book. “How was school, Jason?” she asked. “Fine,” he replied. He went to the study to research the latest happenings of the Johnston Manse. Five minutes later, he was on the Kingsville Historical Society’s webpage on the Johnston Manse. He read the article: Will Johnston built the Johnston Manse in 1830. Some people believe that it was a stop on the Underground Railroad. The house stayed in the family until c. 1915. After that, it was seized by the government for failure to pay taxes owed by the proprietor. Until early 21st century, it was boarded up, when it was bought by a family. A picture of the Manse followed the article. Not much info, but at least I now know he resides legitimately, thought Jason.

During the weekend, Jason and Hal went mini golfing on the pier. As Hal was taller than Jason, he got a longer club. At the first hole, Jason got two strokes and Hal got four. A few holes later, Jason pretended to be taking a big swing. "And Woods is making his swing with his 98 Iron," Jason pretended to announce. All of a sudden he heard a big thwack, and a little green golf ball sailed into the Atlantic Ocean. Hal dug into his pocket and produced three quarters. "I have seventy five cents. We need another quarter for the lost ball fee. You can pay me back the seventy five cents at home," he muttered. "No worries, man." Jason replied casually, "We leave and no one will notice. If they'd only notice if we told them, let alone get angry, what's the point of feeding their bank account?" "Don't try to weasel your way out of this, Jason. We're not above the lost ball policy, however many hole-in-ones I may get," said, with mock cockiness at the end. Jason laughed, and then mumbled, "Fine, we'll pay the fee, only because I'm generous enough to lend you a quarter." As they were walking home, Hal and Jason saw Scott and his parents playing baseball in the park. But no, it isn't baseball, thought Jason; the bat is flat. It's cricket.

On Monday in current events class, Jason brought in an article on the progress of the Mars rover Copernicus. As the class went around the room, everyone shared their articles. A report detailing the condition of sea turtles; Dow Jones losing 5.70 points; Archbishop Thompson X of Moorebourough declared Cardinal of Wales; A dinosaur fossil found in Colorado; The President’s trip to Geneva; et cetera. When it was Jason’s turn, he shared the article on the Copernicus. After his current events, Jason headed over to his history class. They were studying the history of Kingsville. “Who was the first governor of Kingsville, Jason?” the teacher asked after the class started. “Sir James Hansel, Mrs. Gerald,” Jason managed. She nodded. Why does she have to start every class with rapid-fire questions, Jason thought. “And why did he emigrate from England, Elizabeth?” Mrs. Gerald continued. “He wanted land that was good for farming here?” Lizzy said meekly. “That’s why he immigrated to Kingsville. If he thought that there was good farming land here, he could invest in a settlement company south of Virginia. Why would he want to leave hearth, hall, and seat in His Majesty’s court? That is what we will discuss today. Turn to page 130 in your textbook.” The sound of rustling paper was ominous in the classroom. “Timothy, please read from the top of the page,” Mrs. Gerald asked. “The year is 1780,” Timothy began. “The men sitting at the council are deep in thought. They are deciding where the King’s Autumn Mansion should be. The choices are between Birmingham by the Sea and Mooreborough. This decision is of utmost importance, because the king will be very angry with them if he doesn’t like the location of his Autumn Mansion. Also, it would bring great honor to the lords of the county that they pick, and that honor could only go to the lord whose county was most scenic and well kept-up. The men chose Mooreborough, and the baron of Birmingham by the Sea, Sir James Hansel, in embarrassment, turned over power to his cousin. He then flees to the New World, and in 1785, founded Kingsville,” Timothy finished, and took a deep breath. “Mrs. Gerald, who was the Baron of Moorebourough?” Jason asked, his mind racing. "Why, Sir Samuel Thompson II," Mrs. Gerald replied. For the rest of class, Jason could have been in Egypt for all the class cared, but he would be at the library at Alexandria, deep in thought. London would want to keep tabs on the descendents of James Hansel, wouldn't they, he thought? That was it!

When he got home, Jason went to his study and searched British CIA on Google. The first entry was a travel blog. It read, 'I saw the headquarters of MI6, the British CIA...' He knew what he had to do.

The next day at school, when his homeroom was being dismissed, Jason approached Scott. "Scott, what is your Dad's job?" "Take a guess," Scott said sarcastically. "MI6 operative," Jason said smoothly. Scott gaped at Jason, and then replied genuinely, "My mother makes fine scones. We can talk over them about my father's job." As they walked to Scott's house, they discussed how the University of North Carolina Tarheels baseball team was doing. The instant the door was closed behind them, Scott said coldly, "Pleasantries over, Yankee. Tell me how you found out my father's job. If he doesn't like your answer, my father is authorized in the name of the Crown to fly you back to England. America isn't the only nation with a Guantanamo-type prison, you know." "I pieced it together, little by little," Jason began, "I started to wonder why anyone would move to Kingsville. When Mrs. Gerald said that your father worked in law enforcement, she paused, searching for the right word, or maybe was she wondering what the ethical thing to do was? I guessed both. When I walked home from school that day, I heard someone in your house say they worked for the emmie (something), then trail off. In current events class the following Monday, I learned that Archbishop Thompson X was named Cardinal of Wales. In history class, I was enlightened on the subject of this town's first governor." Jason paused, and started pacing. "It turned out that Samuel Thompson inadvertently dishonored Sir James Hansel and his family. Hansel moves here, and has a vendetta against Thompson. Two hundred twenty-odd years later, Thompson's descendent is made a Cardinal. Hansel’s descendents might want to harm Cardinal Thompson, wouldn't they? London would want to keep tabs on Hansel, and send a secret operative. It turns out that their equivalent of the CIA is called the MI6. That's where you're father comes in. I just found out why you were here, and thought you might like to know. That's all." Jason took a deep breath, not daring to plop down on one of the easy chairs. "Fine, you don't get a free flight on British airways, but keep your nose clear of Her majesty's business," said Mr. Braveman, materializing from beside the hearth. He had been there the whole time, thought Jason. So much for my ESP, but he's paid to do just that. "One question, Mr. Braveman," inquired Jason. "I'll answer it depending on its nature," replied Scott's father coolly. "Why did you purchase the Johnston Manse?" "It used to be a stop on the Underground Railroad," the agent said. Jason thought back to when he read the Kingsville Historical Society's webpage on the Johnston Manse. It had said that this had been a stop on the Underground Railroad. "It's sometimes useful to interrogate and detain someone before you fly them across the Atlantic," Mr. Braveman remarked snidely. "Why couldn't you just do this cooperatively with the FBI and interrogate him at the police station?" "Baron Hansel, as you might know, is a threat only to a Briton, and us at MI6 decided to fight our own battles," Scott's father answered. "Goodbye, Scott, Mr. Braveman," Jason said, feeling awkward. "Good luck," he called, and then walked briskly into the warm September afternoon.

EPILOUGE

A few weeks later, Jason was at the breakfast table. It was Sunday morning, and he was looking for the comics in the newspaper. Scott was now friends with him and Hal. Yesterday, they had gone to the park, where Scott had taught them cricket. As he was flipping through the sections, a headline caught Jason's eye. It read: MI6 Arrests Amiable Kingsville Resident. He read on, and found out that Baron Hansel had been taken to England, were he was held on account of attempt to vandalize. Allegedly, he had been stocking up on items to destroy Cardinal Thompson's office before he could use it.

Two months after Baron Hansel was detained in London, Scott was sitting at his desk. It was his first Day back at Kingsville Middle School after Thanksgiving break. The teacher introduced the students to a new classmate. His name was Peter Farnov, and he had moved to Kingsville from Moscow.


 * Note: all historical “facts” are made up. If they do correspond to British noble families, it is entirely coincidental.