The Sword Maker's Seal (3 page)

After an interesting bus ride talking to Blain about dragons, tanks, and interstellar exploration, Ezra took out his schedule and compared it with the twins'.

“How did we get every class together?” Ezra mused.

“Our mom is on the school board, remember?” Mason said while immersed in his latest text message. He looked up and continued, “They pretty much do what they want.”

“I'm sure it's a coincidence Mason. Mom wouldn't play favorites like that.” As Madison spoke, a cloud of uncertainty grasped her mind, which she quickly shook off.

“Sure,” Mason chuckled. “And if a frog had wings he wouldn't bump his rump when he hopped.”

It was starting again; the twins bickered as much as his parents. It seemed Mason had forgotten the twins' truce. Eventually, Ezra was able to get a word in to tell them class was about to start, and they hurried to the science lab.

The physical science teacher, Mr. Kessler, was a stout man that also served as the school's football coach, making him an even more intimidating figure than he already was. He had almost no visible neck and when he talked for an extended period of time his face turned beet red. He would often talk so fast and for so long he would forget to breathe and end up gasping for air in mid-sentence.

Mr. Kessler yelled for quiet as soon as class began. The room turned cold and silent, not a sound escaping from the lips of the intimidated students. The teacher wrote his name on the board in fat square letters and turned to the class.

“I'm passing out a syllabus, but unlike your other teachers, we won't be wasting a class period discussing it,” Mr. Kessler said vehemently. “I expect it to be read by tomorrow because I may decide to quiz you on it. Get in groups of four and go to your lab tables!”

When the students hesitated, Mr. Kessler yelled, “Now!”

There was a sudden cacophony as more than thirty students rushed to find a table with their friends. Ezra, Madison and Mason found a table in the corner, far away from the ill-tempered Mr. Kessler, but they were one member short.

As the lab tables filled up one raven-haired boy was left in the center looking lost. Blain “The Brain” turned and made eye contact with Ezra.

“Oh no…” Ezra said under his breath.

“H-hey guys, can I j-join you?” He said wiping a stray booger from his nose onto his sleeve.

A sandy-haired boy turned around from the adjacent lab table and said, “Uh oh, looks like you guys are stuck with the tweaker!”

The rest of the boy's table burst out laughing.

“Shut up Carson!” Madison cried, then turning to Blain, “Come on Bra-I mean Blain, you can be our lab partner.”

Madison turned pale, genuinely upset with herself for slipping on Blain's name and hoped he didn't notice.

“Thanks guys, I'll do my b-best,” he stuttered.

“That's enough, settle down,” Mr. Kessler yelled. “Okay, today we're going to begin learning about the electromagnetic spectrum. Who knows what I'm talking about?”

Blain muttered something about waves of light then began drawing a dragon down the side of his lab instructions.

“I'm talking about waves people! Everything from radio waves to Gamma Rays,” Mr. Kessler said trying to sound energetic. “Wake up!”

Ezra tried to shake himself out of his coma of boredom but was unsuccessful. Instead of focusing on the lecture he was tapping his foot on his lab stool as though he had somewhere else more important to be.

“Today's lab will concern Infrared waves and their uses in anything from night vision goggles to remote controls. Before we get started we need to do an overview of the EM Spectrum. Take out your notebooks and pens people!”

During the lab Blain stayed fairly levelheaded so they didn't attract unwanted attention from Mr. Kessler or Carson, however Addie did shoot Ezra several looks from across the room.

The rest of Ezra's day was equally as demanding as his first period, leaving him thankful when he plopped on his bed face first after school. Wilhelm pulled at his shoes, urging Ezra to take him for a walk.

“Not now boy, I'm beat,” Ezra said, but his voice was muffled in his pillow.

Wilhelm continued gnawing at his sneakers until he gave in. Ezra attached Wilhelm's leash to his collar, then rounded up Jake and put a leash on him as well; he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

It was an unusually cool September day for Portland. Ezra covered his hands with his sleeves and blew hot air into them.

The Grimm Brothers led Ezra down his street, Cornelia Place, past the twins' house, past Addie's house, nearing his arch-nemesis Carson's house. Why his worst enemy at school had to live a block away from Ezra he would never know. As Ezra passed by, Carson stormed out of his house, yelling obscenities at his parents who were following close behind him.

Carson's father yelled, “You're lucky your mother and I put up with you! Once you graduate you're getting twenty bucks and a suitcase and you're out of here, buddy!”

His father faded from view behind a screen door before Carson could yell back at him.

Carson turned to Ezra and said half-heartedly, “What are you looking at? Get out of here before I beat you senseless!”

Wilhelm snarled at Carson and tugged at his leash, begging to be set loose on him. Ezra pulled him back and kept on his walk, taking the long route home so he wouldn't have to walk past Carson's house again. Ezra returned a half hour later to the comfort of his bed and lay face down feeling for the remote on his windowsill. He finally found the power button after fumbling for a few moments and flipped through the channels.

Every channel he turned to seemed to be playing the news. Ezra wasn't a big fan of the hokey local news crews but the headline caught his interest. He watched as the anchorwoman, Sally Snow, laid out the news in her faux-assertive newscaster voice:

“A Theft at the Ancient Artifacts Museum; when Franklin Roy, the museum's curator, came to work this morning, the last thing he expected to discover was that a burglary had taken place. Authorities have not released what items were taken, but the museum will remain closed until Wednesday at the earliest. We will be on the scene and updating you with any new developments.”

Ezra had risen from his bed and was kneeling close to his TV, biting his lip with curiosity. When the anchorwoman moved on to the next story he switched off the TV and returned to his bed. It was too late to take the train down to the museum and check things out, so he'd have to wait until after school the next day. He knew, however, that it would feel like an eternity, as his excitement was growing by the minute.

To keep his mind occupied he read Feudal Japan and the Way of the Samurai until he was called to dinner, then returned to reading once he finished his pork chops. When Mr. and Mrs. Thorne weren't looking he slipped Wilhelm bits of pork chop and green beans to limit the time he spent with his parents. They seemed to be overly interested in how his day went and Ezra's mind was occupied with more important questions than what he had for lunch that day or if he liked his teachers.

What was stolen? Who did it? And how did they do it?

Countless thoughts rushed through Ezra's mind that night, causing him to wake up almost every hour, rolling around in his sheets with frustration. He had to find out who was behind the heist and bring them to justice. His DNA wouldn't let him stand by and do nothing. The next day he would search for clues, interview museum employees, and solve the case of the missing artifact. For Ezra, nothing was better than a good mystery.

When Ezra's alarm sounded the next morning, for the first time in his life, he was already awake. He hit the off switch and readied himself for school as quickly as he could. He was preparing questions for the curator the whole day, neglecting his classes, hoping he'd be able to interview the chubby man. By the time three-thirty rolled around he was overcome with excitement. He had already told his parents he was going to the library and to not expect him before dinnertime.

Of course, Ezra had no intention of going to the library. He took the MAX from the station a few blocks from Truman High School into downtown Portland to the Ancient Artifacts Museum. When he arrived he saw a news van out front and a suspicious unmarked black van with tinted windows across the street. Outside the museum stood two men in dark suits and sunglasses; one was talking into his wrist. There was an occasional squad car that rolled by, but considering the heist, things seemed rather calm.

When the men took interest in Ezra, he decided it was best to pretend he was on his way across the street to grab something from the café. He entered the café, bought an orange cream soda, and took a seat facing the museum. He bit at his thumbnail nervously. Now that he was here he wasn't sure he had the gumption to make up a story and get past the extra security guards.

A voice came from behind Ezra, making him jump and almost tip his chair over.

“Enjoying the view?”

He turned to see Kenji sipping at a cup of coffee and staring through the glass to the museum steps. Kenji really needed to stop sneaking up on him, Ezra thought.

“I decided to come by when I saw the news broadcast,” Ezra said, then asked with apprehension, “What happened in there?”

“Someone stole the Masamune from its case. Yesterday morning a fake was found in its place. No one noticed until Tanya came in for work yesterday. She realized something was wrong and found Mr. Roy. They called the authorities and, well, I'm sure you know the rest.”

“Why didn't the museum tell the press what was stolen?”

“The sword was going to be declared a national treasure at the end of its tour. You see, when it was first put on display, everyone had accepted that it was an ancient and formidable blade either made by Masamune himself or more likely one of his disciples. Two days ago, Emperor Akihito received word from Japanese scholars that the sword was in fact made by Masamune himself, making it the most important find in centuries.”

Ezra thought for a few moments, then asked, “How did they figure it out? Surely they examined it extensively before putting it on display…”

Kenji looked impressed with Ezra's courage.

“They examined the other swords known to be made by Masamune and found a mark beside his regular seal in common with all of them. Before, they had thought it was a defect that happened through years of wear and tear, but at a microscopic level there was no doubt that it was deliberate.”

Ezra shifted in his seat as he prepared to ask a question that might get him in trouble.

“And where were you two nights ago?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, kid.”

“I'm curious, that's all.”

“I was at my hotel if you must know. All night.”

Ezra could tell the conversation had ended so he said goodbye and decided to see if he could get in to see Mr. Roy. He crossed the street and made for the center entrance to the museum but was stopped by one of the men in dark suits.

“Hold it, this is a crime scene,” the stolid man to Ezra's right said.

“I'm a friend of Mr. Roy. I just wanted to talk to him and see if everything is okay,” Ezra pleaded.

“You'll have to wait until tomorrow when the building is open.”

“Ah, come on! I'm fourteen. Am I really a threat?”

“Beat it, kid!”

Ezra looked up at the rigid man in disgust and walked away defeated. He took out his small notepad and reviewed what he had learned. (He made a habit of writing down everything he could about an investigation in a miniature black book).

Kenji had said that he wasn't anywhere near the museum two nights ago, but no one could verify his story. Ezra also knew that Tanya had a grudge against Kenji and wanted to be the head of the new exhibit. And wasn't there a millionaire from England interested in the exhibit? Suddenly the multiple layers of the case started to knot together like tangled cords and Ezra's head felt like it was going to explode.

He hung around the side of the museum for a few minutes thinking of whether to go home or try to find a way in to talk to the curator. If he were caught he'd be in big trouble not only with his parents but also with the law. He went with his better judgment for once and decided it was time to take the MAX home, vowing to come back the next day and get some answers.

The trademark clouds of Portland gathered in nondescript gray masses above him as the light rail sped toward home. Disappointment knotted in his stomach. If not for running into Kenji it would have been a worthless trip to downtown.

Ezra made it home only a few minutes before dinnertime. Mrs. Thorne was waiting with her arms crossed, scolding him half-heartedly. Ezra was sure she was getting tired of disciplining him after admonishing her students all day in class. Usually this was great for Ezra because he could get away with just about anything with little consequence. However, on this occasion Mrs. Thorne gave him the silent treatment, which she believed was much worse than yelling at him. Ezra tended to agree completely.

Mr. Thorne positioned his chair at dinner so his eyes could remain glued to the TV. He was watching Jeopardy and answering each question out loud and making sure to answer in the form of a question. With Mr. Thorne distracted, dinner conversation remained at a minimum.

“How was the library?” Mrs. Thorne asked calmly.

“It was fine. I found a book about Japan,” Ezra lied.

Mrs. Thorne had not yet seen his copy of Feudal Japan and the Way of the Samurai so he pulled it out to use as his alibi. She seemed convinced and dropped the subject. Mrs. Thorne had made Ezra's favorite meal, Chicken Stir Fry, which made Ezra feel bad for having lied to his mother. She can't know I'm investigating another case, he thought; she almost died when she found out about my case last year.

When Ezra was finished eating he retreated to his room and talked to his dog Wilhelm. Sometimes when he was working on a case and needed someone to confide in, Wilhelm was the best listener. Every once in a while Wilhelm would let out a small bark as if in response to Ezra's questions. Ezra had a hard time thinking through the clues of a case without this kind of interaction.