Third period was U.S. History. After class, Jason went up to the teacher, Mr. Chambers, to ask him about the writing. Mr. Chambers was an older, gruff-looking man with an unkempt beard, a long pony-tail, and no hair on the top of his head. This rough appearance was contrasted with a gentle, intellectual personality. Normally gentle, anyway, which is why his response was so unusual.
Jason approached him with a sample of the secret writing from the notecard, and ask him if he knew what kind of writing it was. As Chambers peered at the paper through his half-moon spectacles, what could only be described as a look of recognition crossed his face, which quickly flashed into almost a look of anger.
"Where did you get this?!?" he bellowed.
Jason was too taken aback by this sudden transformation to answer. Luckily, Chambers himself seemed equally suprised.
"Quite sorry," he said, reverting to his usual composed self, "I don't know what came over me. I must have mistaken this writing for something else, honestly I've never seen it before in my life,"
He was clearly lying, and badly too. Jason noticed this as well, but he was scared to push it.
"Thanks anyway," he said. He retrieved the paper, and we headed out of the room.
"He definately knows something," said Jason to me as we walked down the hallway towards lunch.
"I know," I answered, "but how do we find out what? He obviously doesn't want us to know,"
"We could break into his house," suggested Jason. He might have been joking. I've never really been able to tell.
"We'll call that plan B," I answered.
"I can't believe he's covering it up," complained Faye, when we told her what had happened. "It's like this is some sort of conspiracy,"
The word clicked with me, and set something off in my head. I grabbed the writing sample and took off across the cafeteria. A confused Faye followed me.
Outside, I spotted Mora in her usual place, leaning against a wall.
"Hey Mora," I said, slowing down as I approached her.
"Hello, number six," she said, "How goes it?"
"Not bad," I lied, "I need your help,"
"That's unusual," she remarked, "How may I be of service?"
I handed her the writing sample. "Does this mean anything to you?" I asked.
She looked the paper over somewhat quizically. It was not the actual postcard, but a set of characters from one that Jason had copied down. He didn't like the idea of bringing the postcards themselves to school.
"Hmm..." she said, after a while, "Interesting. I suppose this is a 'no questions asked' sort of affair?"
"For now, yes," answered Faye from behind me.
"Can I keep this for a while?" asked Mora, "I know I've seen it somewhere before, but I can't quite put my finger on where. I'll check it out for you, though,"
"Great," said Faye. She'd now pretty much taken over the conversation.
"Of course, I'd be taking the time out from other things," she continued, "I might be more motivated to really dig for an answer if I was being.... compensated somehow,"
"Five dollars enough?" asked Faye.
"Barely covers the gas to the library," Mora replied, "But I'll do it for you Sky, since you're a friend and all,"
"Thanks," I said, "Get back to us when you can,"
"Will do," she replied, pocketing the sample.
The bell rang, and I headed to class.