Another Tome is found (Part 2)

The day had been long, and golden fingers of the last few minutes of daylight lit the office. An old oscillating fan cast its gaze back and forth over the room, its’ whirring drowning out the dozen other lesser sounds that the office made in its’ daily business. Less than hustle, but somewhat more than bustle, the agency had managed to stay alive in the dog days of summer, just barely managing to make ends meet.

The phone rang, and Jane, a thin black girl who had once been considered the office beauty before the death of her mother, now answered the phone, as if by rote. The smiles that could be heard through the phone from her, were now gone, and only a faint trace could be found if you listened real hard.

She set the phone in its cradle and strode to the large desk in the back. On this large wooden desk, sat a smaller identical desk. Seated at this small desk was The Professor, the manager/owner of the Metroplex’s premier supernatural detective agency. Standing a solid eleven inches high, she was a simulacrum of Althea Harrison, a mage who was well known by those who were in the know of recent events. She sat there, playing a video game on a cell phone on a stand on her desk, meant to emulate a computer screen.

“Professor. We just got a call from team EmJay. He’s en route, and wants a full staff meeting.”

The Professor reached up and pressed the button on the upper edge of the phone to shut it down, and stood, sending her desk chair rolling backward.

“Did he say what about?”

“It was Nate. EmJay was resurrecting.”

The Professor looked startled, “Was there trouble?”

Jane shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good. OK, gather the crew.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jane made a beeline for her desk and began making calls.

***

Ramon answered his cell, as he sat on the stoop of his house, watching his son play tag with his friends.

“Hola,” He took a drag on the cigarette that he had been nursing. His eyebrows raised as he listened to the voice on the other end.

“I’ll be there,” He rubbed his shaven, tattooed head wearily, flicked the butt into the street and stood, stretching. Whistling to his son, he jerked a thumb at the house. Tapping him on the head as his son ran past, he grabbed his satchel from the coat hook just inside the doorway and buttoned up his slate grey shirt to hide his beater.

“Chica! I’m headed to the office. I’ll call if I’m gonna to be late.”

From within, his wife replied, “You betta!”

***

As the car pulled into the underground parking, Nathan turned on the overhead lights, bringing me fully awake.

“Thank you for flying Nateway, please bring your seats to the fully upright position, and wait until we come to a complete stop before deplaning. Thank you, and have a nice day.”

Flexing my fingers and toes, I did a quick inventory to make sure everything was working as intended, I unbuckled my seatbelt.

“Thanks, Nate. Did you make the call?”

“Yeah, we should have a full house.”

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Author: Professor Porkchop

Southern New Hampshire University Student, Writer, Artist.

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