It is a cold Friday morning exactly one week from graduation at Blankton high school. Chemical sciences is my first class of the day, I have been waiting all semester for this one day, it is the day when I could, potentially, learn how to make a metal-burning acid. My teacher said that she would teach me, but only if I obtained an 'A' grade. “Oh no” I said as I walked through the door of my chemical sciences class. We have a substitute oh great, finally when I was going to learn something I had been looking forward to all semester. I took my usual seat next to my best friend Peter, aka Pete. “Hey did you notice Miss Newman isn’t teaching today” said Pete, my response, “no kidding! I thought she had plastic surgery”. “Hey I know sarcasm when I hear it”, Pete said, getting annoyed. “Oh well maybe I can talk to her at graduation”, I said, thinking alloud. After science class I had my least favorite class, Geometry. Now I would not say that I don't dislike Geometry, no I would use the word hate. I espicially hate my teacher Mr. Brown. He try's to get us into Geometry by trying to tell us what jobs use it. Let me tell you, all of the jobs I want to get, don’t have anything to do with geometry. Yet somehow he made today’s lecture sound interesting. He asked us, if you are a SWAT Commander, and you have so many floors to clear out, with so much time, how could you do this? Also how much time for error do you have? okay I won't bore you with all the details. You see the reason todays lecture was interesting is because all of my interest have something to do with war. for instance when I was 13 years old, my dad sent me to my first military camp. I would say it was the hardest and best summer of my life. In fact I was looking at pursuing a military career, by going to west point; and thanks to Miss Newman, I had gotten accepted to go there. Then again sometimes life throws you a curve and all you can do is swing.
Lunch went particularly well. No one was picking on me. Also I think it helped that we had my favorite lunch, hamburgers and French fries. during lunch I studied for my final exam in French, a class which up to this point had been really easy. Well lunch, like all good things came to an end. I was once again off to another class. I was walkign to my next class when I noticed my principal wondering the halls. Strange, I thought to myself he is normally in a meeting this time of day. He walked strait up to me and said, “Mr. Garfield, I need to speak with you in my office on a very important matter”. “Principle Williams I was on my way to history class, can it wait”? “I’m afraid not, it concerns your father”. Now my father had disappeared when I was 14 years old, he went on a business trip to Japan, and just never came back, no calls, no letters, nothing, what’s worse is that they never found him, and according to the united states government, he never had even boarded his plane to Japan. All I could say was okay. Following Mr. Williams to his office, where I found my mother and another man pacing all over the office. “is everything all right mom?" I said, now really nervous about what was going to happen next, “mike you had better sit down” mom said, still pacing around, so I sat down, after a little while my mom finally spoke “Honey, this is Special Agent Watkins with the Federal Bureau of Investigation he would like to talk to you about your father and his real work”, “What” I said, having no idea what she was talking about. That’s all I could think about for about 5 minutes. "Hi Mike I am special agent Watkins with the FBI, and as your mother has already stated, that is if its all right with you?", "I would like to tell you about your father and his life’s work. “Sure I guess, I never really knew much about my father, or his work, he always seemed to be gone” I said, now getting mad because I was missing class, because they probably found out he was into some illegal activity, and he was on some private island somewhere in the bahama's. Agent Watkins started talking again, so I kept my thoughts to myself, “Well he didn’t really have much of a chose, you see your dad had been working for the central intelligence agency since he was your age”, I was stunned, I wasn’t sure what to say or even to believe him, so I responded, “you mean he was a spy”, I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I wouldn’t call him a spy, you see after he married your mother he had just been working as a intelligence courier delivering information to other agents”, “well then why did he disappear”, “You see son some people he had tangled with in the past before he changed jobs had him captured and killed” well why are you telling me this now and how do you know my father?
