Leo Connor and the Lost Wizard Part Three

3 School.

I placed the night lamp securely in my bag. I made sure I had everything on the ‘list’ Aunt Stephanie suggested I wrote so I won’t forget anything:

1.        
all the clothes. (Done)

2.      the nightlight (Done)

3.       pocketknife (Done)

4.      pencil (Done)

5.                           a bunch of papers (Done)

6.      socks (clean ones only) (Done!)

7.        baseball cap (Done)

8.       Buddy

9.       a jacket. (Done)

make sure you have everything and all.

So that’s all I needed. Huh. I had a lot of stuff in my room, but this was all I needed.

I tried to brush through my hair, but that already turned into a fail as I got stuck on a single knot for twenty minutes. I pulled on an everyday shirt, a light hoodie over it. The every-day blue jeans, of course. I slung the bag over my shoulder and went down the stairs.

“He’s ready, Steph,” Uncle Julian said from the kitchen.

“Get the car ready, Julian!”

Uncle Julian glared at me and then used the keys to unlock the car. I went outside and slipped into the car quickly.

“Have you got all your things, boy?” Uncle Julian asked in an irritated tone of voice.

“Um, yeah, actually.”

The car drive was pretty rough, because for one, Uncle Julian was a terrible driver and so you’d basically have to tell him when the red light changes to green (sometimes he forgets that the green means go), and whenever I remind him he always thinks of it as harsh or rude and says, “I know that, I’m not an idiot, you rascal!” or “Just be quiet and sit down, you little nincompoop!”

Honestly, I have no Idea what the heck nincompoop means but it certainly doesn’t sound pleasing so I sat back in my seat.

There was another red light up ahead. Uncle Julian just kept going.

“Um, Uncle Julian…”

“Quiet, boy!”

“Uncle Julian, I think you should-’’

“Shut up, boy!”

One car stopped. We were this closed to hitting it when I yelled:

“UNCLE JULIAN JUST STOP THE CAR!”

Of course, Uncle Julian had no idea whatsoever why I was saying this, being a truly stupid driver with no brain whatsoever, but now things are about to get weird.

Just at that moment, a blinding gold light filled my vision, and when it disappeared, the car had stopped, exactly where it needed to be.

The weirdest part was, Uncle Julian pretended like he didn’t notice that a second ago he was driving like his hands were made out of elastics.

“We’re almost there, Lionsus.” Uncle Julian said grumpily.

The car dragged through the highway. It continued for a long, long time. By the time we were in another highway, I thought that we were going to travel Antarctica or something, because this thing was taking just about as much time Uncle Julian takes in the bathroom, and let me tell you that is a LOT of time he’s cooped up in there.

After basically years of traveling, I finally sighed of relief when our car stopped in front of the camp.

The camp looked more like a big professional downtown building. There were students all around talking, and people outside studying. Some guy was giving them orders. Some of them swam in an outdoor pool while others talked while eating Ice Cream. As if it were a magnet, I slowly started heading to the camp.

“Where are you going, you idiot?” Uncle Julian called from behind me.

I paused. “To the camp.”

“Well, bother to read the sign!” He said, his stubby finger pointing to a tall sign I happened not to notice.

Richmond school of architecture, It read in big, detailed letters.

“Oh.” I said. “Then where’s the camp?”

Uncle Julian briskly nodded toward a little cabin I had barely noticed. It looked old and rotten, and a thousand bugs flew around it, and I felt like crying, ‘cause this was the worst camp I’d ever seen. There were no kids, and a ratty sign read:

Freddy Jude’s School for Misbehaved and Mental children.

Well, that’s a bummer, because whoever made this place is probably mental and misbehaved as well, judging by its looks.

Uncle Julian dragged me by the hand to the front of the cabin. He looked kind of grossed out when he knocked on the moldy door.

“Hello!” He called.

There was shuffling from inside. A voice: “Ferdinand, get the door!”

Finally, the door squeaked open. An old man was at the door. He was wearing a brown uniform that park rangers wore, with a big badge on it that read The Leader of the Camp. My name is Ferdinand!

He looked up at Uncle Julian and faked a smile, then he kind of jumped when he saw me, then he smiled truly.

“Ah, you must be Gilbert Julian? You said you wanted your child to…um….” The man, obviously named Ferdinand, said.

“I wanted him to join,” Uncle Julian said.

“Yeah,” The man said. He seemed a bit dazed, “come on in. The school is mostly outside.”

We followed him in. There was a small head-of-camp office room, with a little lamp. A few chairs for waiters were empty, inhabited by spiders that, I have to admit, looked pretty dangerous.

 The man scooted some chairs in front of his old wooden desk, and everyone sat.

“So what’s the name, boy?” Ferdinand asked.

“L-’’ Uncle Julian began to answer.

“L! A beautiful name!” The man nodded briskly. “L Connor.”

I have honestly no Idea how he knows my last name.

“Before getting in,” He said, “how many stars do you see?”

He held up a paper with one…two… three…six stars on it.

“Six.” I said.

“This is why I said he needed special attention from a doctor.” Uncle Julian whispered. I don’t understand: there were exactly six stars.

“Well, Gilbert. You may leave. I’ll take him in.” Ferdinand said, but Uncle Julian was already out the door.