When he arrived, he knocked twice before there was an answer.
Simon's father opened the door. He was tall and chubby and he had a brown, scruffy, bushy beard. He was a builder and he owned two trucks. He was wearing his overalls and his boots and looked ready for work.
'Hello, Brendan,' he greeted Brendan with a friendly smile but it somehow looked invisible inside that giant beard.
'Good morning, Mr. Drewmorphin,' he responded with a smile too.
'If you want to see Simon, you can come in and have breakfast with us, he's still in the shower.'
He could feel his stomach crying out for food. 'That's kind of you but I already ate, and besides, I came to see you only.'
Mr. Drewmorphin looked surprised. He closed the door and stepped outside.
'I need a favor, sir.'
'Anything for my son's best friend,' he rubbed his hands with glee when he spoke.
'I was wondering if you could pick up something for me and deliver it to a certain place…after your working hours that is.'
'Sure, sure, son what's the package?'
He scratched his head starting to feel uneasy and wondering if this was the best statement he could come up with. 'It's money, sir,' he said finally.
'And why can't you do it yourself?'
'Well, let's just say that it's more than a couple of hundred or two hundred gem bills.'
'Will I need my briefcase, then?'
'No, sir,' he gulped, 'more like your truck,' he choked on these words.
'You're not serious, are you?' He folded his arms and converted his smile into a confused one.
'I'm serious, sir. It's a lot of money so you'll definitely need your truck. Here are the keys..,' he fumbled into his back pocket and pulled out the keys to his house and handed them to Mr. Drewmorphin. 'If you go upstairs in the last room you'll find a small carpet on the floor. Beneath that carpet is a door and through that door there are stairs and if you follow those stairs you'll find the money. Take all of it to the Patricks' house. Samantha will know what to do with it,' he concluded.
'And your keys?' Mr. Drewmorphin asked him.
'Just leave the door unlocked and slide them under it…I hope it's not too much to ask?'
'No, no of course not. Consider it done.'
'Oh, and one last thing, sir…Please, don't tell anyone about this.'
'O…okay,' he spoke with uncertainty.
'Goodbye, and thank you, sir.' He turned to leave.
'Aren't you leaving with Simon?'
'Well, unfortunately Simon and I are currently not on the same page so…'
Mr. Drewmorphin nodded understandingly. 'I hope you patch things up soon, though. Well, goodbye, Brendan.' He walked back into the house.
Brendan continued his tiring journey to school, temptations pushing him to run like the wind.
In class, Brendan saw a smile stretched across Samantha's face. Her smiles were something he was beginning to get used to. When he looked at his past with her and how they were now drawing closer and closer to friendship, he felt a jolt of excitement and relief inside him. Before he sat down, he gave her a friendly smile and she responded with the same and the addition of a pleasant nod.
These signs went unnoticed by Mr. Benson when he opened the classroom door. Biology was one of Brendan's favorite subjects and the arrival of Mr. Benson reduced his amount of stress. The Biology lesson was followed by Physics then Literature and then finally, History, but Miss Putin never showed up. This, Brendan thought, had something to do with what happened with Thomas because he too was not present.
At recess, Brendan went to sit where he always sat with Simon. 'Can I talk to you?' he asked Simon. Owen was sitting beside him.
'You're not supposed to be talking to me,' Simon told him, turning his scornful expression in the opposite direction.
'I know that, Simon, but look; we've been friends for longer than I can remember and you want a small argument to destroy our friendship?'
Simon stared at him then sighed, 'I guess not…This is stupid; we've been acting like jerks. Our friendship is much more important than that.' He stood up and hugged him and they both gave each other friendly pats on the back.
'That is so touching,' Owen said placing his hands on his chest and giggling.
'Shut up!' they responded in unison.
Brendan sat down and joined them. 'Do any of you know anything about the "Supremes"?' he leaped onto a subject.
'Not me,' Simon said ignorantly.
'Do you mean the Five Supreme Races of the world?' Owen asked him.
They both looked at him in stern surprise. 'You know them, Owen?' Brendan asked him whispering.
'I came across the topic in one of my father's latest books. He's a scientist and I don't believe in magic so..,' he shrugged, 'I didn't pay attention to it. Magic does not exist.'
'Well, you should believe it because it does exist!' Simon glared at Owen as if he had broken a serious law.
'Do you have any chances of getting the book for me?' Brendan asked him.
'I don't know. My father treasures that book very much but I'll see if I can borrow it.'
'You better get that book,' Simon told him half threateningly, 'consider it your initiation into our gang,' he added.
Owen shrugged uncaringly.
'Oh-oh,' Simon was staring behind Brendan.
'What is it?' Brendan asked him.
Simon looked like he had seen a ghost. 'Satan at 12 o' clock.'