Book 1: The Crown Prince (The Kid Emperor of Occultoria), Page 5

  Chapter 2 - A Surprise from Ariel the Cat

  Promptly at 2:30 pm, Max’s foster mother, Barbara Ann Simmons, came to pick him up from school.

  But first, she had made an appointment to speak with Max’s teacher, so Max waited outside in the hallway, while the two adults talked in the classroom.

  Max was still shaken from his supernatural experience. Now that he had seen the broken glass in the vending machine, he knew that it was for real. What was that thing? And why did it appear to him? And where was Purgatorio and why should he stay away?

  So many unanswered questions swirled in his mind.

  He inspected his metal bracelet. It had begun to glow right before the creature appeared. Then, he examined his hand, where the ball of fire had sprung from. His hand was fine. There wasn’t a single burn to it - no singe and definitely no smell.

  He tried to summon the magic again, but nothing happened.

  Puzzled and confused, he was distracted by the sounds of discussion within the classroom.

  From just outside the classroom, he could hear his foster mother speaking in hushed tones with Ms. Hansen.

  “I just get so worried about him,” his foster mother was saying. “He’s so quiet and introverted. All he does is draw. And one day, I was driving by the school at recess when I saw him in this remote corner of the playground, this clearing surrounded by trees. He was just sitting there all by himself and drawing. What do you think we should do?”

  She was a big womanwith curly black hair, a sharp nose and firm brown eyes. She owned a huge greenhouse growing all sorts of fruits and vegetables and she loved working in it. That was why all her clothes were smudged with dirt and the occasional leaf.

  Ms. Hansen replied, “I wouldn’t worry about it. There’s nothing wrong with Max. Every student is different. Who knows? Maybe his introversion could help him someday.”

  “How could his being so introverted help him?” she said, as she plucked out a leaf from her hair. “He thinks way too much. Living in his head isn’t good for a little boy.”

  Max wondered how thinking could be a bad thing.

  “I would worry more about his dyslexia,” Ms. Hansen said. “I recommend putting him in Learning Assistance.”

  Max grimaced. He didn’t want to go to Learning Assistance. Only dumb kids went there.

  “And another thing,” continued his foster mother. “The boy cares too much about other people. His compassion is out of control. I once saw him give money to the girl scouts because they were fundraising for some charity scam. How does he expect to take care of himself when he’s always concerned about others?”

  “I don’t see how being compassionate could be seen as a bad thing,” said Ms. Hansen.

  “In this dog-eat-dog world, you have to put yourself first,” said Barbara Ann. “No one else is going to.”

  Max had heard enough.

  He knew that in his heart, he was just being himself.

  And since when was being yourself a bad thing?