“Uh—I guess that’s enough questions,” the agent said, looking confused. “You can go.”
“Thanks,” said Angel, slipping out of her chair. She snapped her fingers for Total, and he trotted after her.
“And how do you spell that?” the agent asked.
“Captain, like the captain of a ship,” the Gasman explained. “And then Terror, you know, T-E-R-O-R.”
“Your name is Captain Terror.”
“That’s right,” the Gasman said, shifting in his chair. He glanced at Max, who was speaking very quietly to her agent. “Are you really FBI?”
The agent smiled briefly. “Yes. How old are you?”
“Eight. How old are you?”
The agent looked startled. “Uh . . . um, you’re kind of tall for an eight-year-old, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh. We’re all tall. And skinny. And we eat a lot. When we can get it.”
“Yes, I see. Tell me . . . Captain, have you ever seen anything like this?” The agent held up a blurry black-and-white photo of an Eraser, half-morphed.
“Gosh, no,” said the Gasman, opening his blue eyes wide. “What is that?”
The agent seemed at a loss for words.
“And you’re blind?”
“Uh-huh,” Iggy said, trying to sound bored.
“Were you born that way?”
“No.”
“How did you become blind, uh, Jeff, is it?”
“Yeah, Jeff. Well, I looked directly at the sun, you know, the way they always tell you not to. If only I had listened.”
“And then I had, like, three cheeseburgers, and they were awesome, you know? And those fried pie things? Those apple pies? They’re really great. Have you ever tried them?” Nudge looked hopefully at the woman sitting across from her.
“Uh, I don’t think so. Can you spell your name for me, sweetie?”
“Uh-huh. It’s K-R-Y-S-T-A-L. I like my name. It’s pretty. What’s your name?”
“Sarah. Sarah McCauley.”
“Well, that’s an okay name too. Do you wish it was something different? Like, sometimes I wis
h my name was kind of fancier, you know? Like—Cleopatra. Or Marie-Sophie-Therese. Did you know that the queen of England has, like, six names? Her name is Elizabeth Alexandra Mary. Her last name is Windsor. But she’s so famous she just signs her name ‘Elizabeth R,’ and everyone knows who it is. I’d like to be that famous someday. I would just sign ‘Krystal.’”
The agent was silent for a moment, then she seemed to recover herself. “Have you ever heard of a place called the School?” she asked. “We think it’s in California. Have you ever been to California?”
Nudge looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “California? Like, surfers and movie stars and earthquakes? No. I’d like to go. Is it pretty?” Her large brown eyes looked innocently at the agent.
“You can call me Agent Mickelson,” he told me with a smile. “What about you? Is Max short for something? Maxine?”
“No, Dean. It’s just Max.”
He blinked once, then referred back to his notes. “I see. Now, Max, I think we both know your parents aren’t missionaries.”