From the Journal of William Kidd

Entry #1

Journal,

I’m not really sure what to say here.  Headmaster Solomon said I should start keeping a journal.  He said that all of the great spies do.  I don’t know why he thinks I have the capability to ever be a great spy, but I’m in no position to argue with Joe Solomon.

I guess I should start by introducing myself.  My name is William Kidd.  My best friend is William Kasey, but he likes to go by Bill.  Call him anything else and you’ll probably end up with a black eye.  I’m seventeen years old, I really like it when the cafeteria serves cheese sticks, and, oh yeah.  I’m a spy.

I mean, I guess I will be.  I’m in training still, so we’ll see.  During the school year, I train at The Blackthorne Military Academy for Boys and in the summers, I train with The Gathering for Good.  You might have heard of them.  Or not.  I guess that is the point, after all.

That’s where I am now, actually.  Summer just started, so we’ll be running drills in the morning.  It’s all pretty standard stuff, but it’ll start pretty early.  Sunrise.  Bill’s telling me to turn off my damn light as I write this, so I’ll probably just go down to Maggie’s room for a while and write there.  She’s always up pretty late—oh right.  Maggie.  I should tell you about her.

She’s new.  I mean, not really.  It’s not like she was just recently formed out of thin air or anything, but she’s new to me.  I like her, but not in a weird way or anything.  I guess I should say… I respect her.  Yeah.  I guess that’s a good word for it.  Anyways, she’s a part of the Goode family.  Yes, Journal.  That Goode family.  My parents used to always talk about them.  “The Goodes put away another member,” they’d say.  “They stopped another world war.”  Average things that parents say.

Oh yeah.  I guess I should tell you about my parents, too.  They’re CIA.  Both of them.  And I haven’t seen them in a year.  But that’s fine I guess, because that’s nothing compared to the three years they disappeared before that.  Everyone thought they were dead, but they turned up one day with tales about arms dealers and nuclear bakeries.  I just wonder how long they’ll stay away before the next time they come home without so much as a My Spy Parents Took Down Four Malevolent Dictators And All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt souvenir. 

Anyways, Headmaster Solomon is talking to Maggie tonight, so I guess I have to go back to my own room before I get busted.  I’m sure you can understand why I don’t want to explain to Joe Solomon what I’m doing sneaking into his granddaughter’s room at one in the morning.  That’s all for tonight Journal. 

Regards,

Will