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Ethan Sparks Adventures | |
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Chapter One
There have been times in my life when I just knew something. For example, when I aced an exam. Or last year, when I made the swim team after only one tryout. There were two goons in this auditorium who didn't belong here. They were thugs. I just knew it. I picked up the high-powered surveillance mirror strapped to my backpack and aimed it right at them.
One thug had a jagged scar running right through his knife-sliced eye. The other guy had a manic tick that made him fidget in his seat. Here we were in this auditorium at the University of Mexico City, mostly college kids and professors all around me. And there were these two thugs.
They both wore black jeans and black T-shirts. My gut told me that Dead Eye and Crazy Tick weren't students at this university. So why are they here? I asked myself.
Before releasing the mirror from its duty, I happened to glance at the person directly behind me. Boy, am I glad I did! There was a babe sitting behind me. She was fourteen, maybe fifteen. Long, shiny black hair, big brown eyes, and a crooked smile that kept her from being perfect.
I noticed that she was also checking out the thugs. Huh?
Suddenly she winked at me. I dropped the mirror on its strap and just happened to catch my own reflection. Since I changed my contact lenses my eyes appear more green than brown. It made me look older. Especially since I just had an overnight growth spurt of more than three-quarters of an inch. I rounded it off; now I'm five feet, ten inches. And by not spiking my brown hair, I look at least a year older.
Oh yeah, I decided, I look older. You know, I look fifteen. Not bad, since I just turned fourteen three months ago.
Applause broke out. I looked up. My dad and a beautiful middle-aged, dark-haired woman walked out to center stage. They both held wireless microphones. The woman gracefully drifted to the left. Dad swaggered to the right. Yup, ever since he lost that ten pounds, he started swaggering.
"Hola," the woman said, waving her hand. "It is my absolute pleasure to introduce to you Dr. Ian Sparks! The most respected archaeologist of our time!"
Applause broke out again. I glanced over. Dead Eye was rolling his one live eye. Crazy Tick was twitch'n like a fish out of water. "Gracias, Dr. Castillo!" my father replied in his confident professor voice. "Although I must say, it is you whom I respect as being one of the preeminent archaeologists of our generation!"
More applause, lots of it, a standing ovation. You could tell that the University of Mexico City loved Dr. Castillo. I'd noticed in the bios that had been handed out that Dr. Castillo had two and a half pages and my father only two. The lady looked over at my dad and held her index finger up. Then she turned and gave us the cut-it hand gesture. "The applause stopped dead. Everyone sat down. "Muchas gracias!" Dr. Castillo said, blasting us with her confidence. "Now if you please, we shall begin."
Boy, she has an air of authority, I nodded to myself. Oh yeah, she's definitely in charge.
My father turned to his colleague, nodded his approval, and then started talking to the audience.
"Yesterday my team and I visited your wonderful museums here in Mexico City. They are among the best in the world!"
Applause broke out. You go, Dad, I thought, working a room like this.
Dr. Sparks started pumping his open hands down until the applause subsided and then stopped. With a hushed control of his audience, he told us the reason he was here in Mexico. He and Dr. Castillo were going to team up and go on a fact-finding mission to either prove or disprove the Mayan Calendar Myth.
When Dr. Sparks opened up a Q&A session and it became total geek-speak, I took my new phone out for a spin on the information highway. I bought this cool phone with the money I made as a contributing reporter for The Young Explorer magazine. I was on my fourth assignment for the Explorer. This one was to report on my dad's Mayan fact-finding mission.
Oh, by the way, I do understand all the academic geek-speak.
But I'm also smart enough not to go around and brag about it. Abruptly, I felt a finger poke my shoulder. It wasn't a sweet poke either.
I turned around. The babe with the crooked smile opened her mouth. "Let's go, buster," she said. "We need to chat."
"Come on," I said with a shrug. "All I did was check you out. That's what a guy does."
"Don't be silly." She rolled her big brown eyes. "You are Ethan Sparks from North Carolina, is that correct?"
"Yeah."
"My name is Anya Florita Alba Castillo. I am Dr. Castillo's daughter. It is apparent that we will be traveling together."
"Huh," I said. "You're a girl."
"Quite astute." Anya grinned.
"Well I'm astute enough to know that Anya is a Russian name and not Mexican."
"Si ?" She nodded with raised eyebrows. "My mother first heard the name in Russia on a Siberian dig."
Then turning on a dime, she demanded, "Follow me. I must tell you something I know."
"Is it about the two thugs?"
"Si, but how did you know?"
"Just like you," I answered. "I was checking them out the same time you were."
"Si." She smiled. "In your little spy mirror."
"Ha-ha. That's funny."
"Oh," she said, nodding. "You think the fact that the biggest crime cartel in South America has come to Mexico to kill our parents is funny?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "That's not funny at all."
Neither was the fact that the lights suddenly went out.
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