The Mysteries of the Q Files #2: Screens are Cursed Windows

Chapter One - Rescued from Boredom

It was the Monday before Thanksgiving and all Trick could do was glumly look around at the half filled classroom. So many people had already skipped town with their folks to visit with family or go on an early vacation. As usual, he had to stay put with his parents. Susan Brown's work usually kept her occupied all the way to the night before Thanksgiving. It had been years since they even had a turkey! And without half the people here who made this high school semi-interesting, Trick felt like he was stranded on a deserted island.

There was also the fact that his life was suddenly so normal again. So incomprehensibly and unapologetically boring! For Pete's sake he had fought with supernatural monsters, helped solve a crime the FBI couldn't, and defied his parents in the most epic way imaginable! Running off with a girl he barely knew to investigate a case handed to the most dubious and ill-fated division of the FBI, the Q Files. Thinking of which, Naomi was still not talking to him. Not that she was angry with him or anything; she just had a ton of other stuff on her mind and was busy getting three months ahead in her school work and polishing that already glowing application for her future university career.

Meanwhile, Trick was finally free from his recent grounding and the prank he had pulled a month ago was old news. Since then some people had tied egging him on to try the next big thing. He had declined. After solving a supernatural case and using all of his skills to dup adults and teens alike, pulling a simple prank was beyond sophomoric. The very idea was freshmanoric! Yes, he was going to make that a new word!

He sighed and doodled in his notebook while his teacher presented a boring slideshow on the events leading up to World War II. Seriously, how could someone make one of the coolest subjects in history, the only event that anyone cared about since the American Revolution, sound so boring? The presentation was nearly as boring as his life had become in the last month. Trick had hoped beyond hope that Agent Conturbatio, often referred to as the Sphinx, would suddenly show up and tell him that he was needed for some new, dangerous investigation. But there had been neither hide nor hair seen of the strange man. Trick still couldn't pin down from which show he had seen Conturbatio's likeness before.

Now twirling his pen absentmindedly, Trick stared into the middle distance. He half wished that the pictures on the projector would suddenly come to life and interact with him. It was something like what some nut jobs had said had happened in Provo a few days back. But that was obviously a domestic terrorist attack. Not only had his mother confirmed it, but there had been word from the Department of Homeland Security as well. They had a lot of solid evidence in favor of their claims.

He jumped when he suddenly heard his name getting called. I'm not doing anything! He thought frantically. He then saw that his teacher was waiting with a student messenger. There was a note in her shriveled hand. He got up and accepted it. The old hag calling herself Mrs. Hudson glared at him as though he would transform the note into a bomb. If only I could do that. Then maybe this short week would actually be worth something.

He was even more surprised to see what the note contained. It was a message from his mother that he was going to get picked up in an hour from the front office. He was excused for the day from the rest of his classes. He was going to meet with Agent Conturbatio for lunch and discuss something. It was all he could do to keep his jaw from dropping.

Startling the remainder of the class in their seats, Trick jumped into the air, pumped his fist, and let loose a whoop. "Yes! I'm back in business!"

Everyone started giving each other looks and then darted their eyes to the nearest exit. They all expected something really bad to happen. Fortunately for them, they were too boring of a lot for Trick to waste his time and considerable mental capacity on them. He then realized that the next hour couldn't pass fast enough.