Chapter 1

BEEP! The alarm clock ripped through the peaceful quietness in the bedroom. Skylar, still half-asleep, instinctively took his hand out from under the sheets and groped for the Snooze button. After a few tries, he smacked the top of the clock. A little too hard; seeing as the clock fell off the night table onto the floor.

Skylar quietly cursed as he slowly got up and out of the bed. He slipped his robe and slippers on and tip-toed past his brother, who miraculously stayed asleep, out of the crammed room. He walked down the stairs and into the dark living room. The early sunrise had shown itself into the room, providing a feeble source of light

He set himself down in the closest seat in the kitchen and rested his head for a moment. The boy snapped back to reality as his stomach craved nourishment. He swiftly fashioned himself a bowl of cereal and speedily ate it. He reached for the nearby remote, pointed it lazily at the TV, and pressed Power. The monitor hummed softly as it showed the picture. He switched it to channel 21, ESPN.

As he watched Sportscenter, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. That should be Mom, he thought. Soon, his mother's bright face popped itself into the kitchen,

"Hello," she said cheerfully, "I see that you're up early."

"Yeah," Skylar replied nonchalantly, "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You poor thing. How late were you up to?"

"'Bout 11. Dad dropped off Kayla at her house at about 10-ish"

"Oh," her maternal instincts had switched to interrogation mode, "And where did you two go last night?"

"We went to that new Space Invaders movie with Kathy and Terry. It was good, but the first one was better."

"Oh really, what did you do after that?" She wanted answers and Skylar was graciously handing them out.

"We went into the back of Terry's Dad's BMW and made out."

His mom gasped loudly, but Skylar's laughter filled the kitchen. When his laughter subsided, quiet took hold of the room.

"I'm just kidding, Mom," he chuckled, "You know that."

"It scares me though that my 13-year-old son may be 'making out'," she said, putting imaginary quotations around 'making out', "with his first girlfriend in back of a Lexus!"

"BMW, Mom," he corrected her, "And what's the big deal about making out? Dedrick was with Lauren a month before they started making out. I've been with Kayla twice as long!"

"But Dedrick was 15 when he first met Lauren, you're only 13!"

"Thanks for the reminder," Skylar retorted darkly, "But I'm twice as smart as Dedrick when he was thirteen. Heck, I'm smarter than him now, and he's a sophomore at Hofstra."

She glowered at Skylar for a time, then loosened her stare, "Speaking of smarts, don't you have finals today?"

"Yep, Science and English." He replied as he went into the next room to get his school stuff.

"I expect you to get nothing less than a ninety." She added, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Yeah, that makes two of us," he said with a small smile of his own on his face, "Going to school now. I'll be back by 1."

He turned to leave but stopped, "And don't worry," he said mischievously, "no making out in BMW's… Just in Mercedes." Skylar was out of the house before his mother could reply. He hopped on his bike and pedaled off to school

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

He was at school in plenty of time. He locked his bike to the bike rack and headed through the side entrance. He subconsciously headed to his locker, passing the usual postings and announcements that a normal middle school would have. He was entering his combination when someone snuck up from behind him and covered his eyes,

"Guess who?" The voice asked.

"Hello, to you too, Kayla." joked Skylar as he lowered his girlfriend's hands of his eyes. He turned around to face hers, and thankfully, they weren't full of the hatred that consumed them during his dreams. More like nightmares, he thought to himself. He wrapped his arms around her body in an affectionate hug, held her there for a second and let go.

"Yesterday was fun, wasn't it?" Skylar asked as he went back to his locker combo.

"Oh yea," Kayla replied, playing with tangles of his brown wavy hair, "It would have been better if Kathy stopped screaming every two seconds." The two laughed while Skylar took out the last of his books. He closed the teal, metal door and walked with Kayla down the hall.

"Where are you having your science final?" Skylar inquisted.

"D wing, second floor, room 15. And for yourself?"

"C wing, first floor, room 10. I have Old Lady Wilsmen for my proctor."

"Tough luck," Kayla said remorsefully, "well, see you soon." Kayla took a left down a yellow hall as Skylar stayed straight.

Skylar had never ventured into the C-Wing of the school; his classes were always in the A, B, and D wings. The C-wing was supposedly where all the intelligent kids went for classes. Suddenly, the warning bell rang through the school. Only 3 minutes to find the room. He continued to walk around aimlessly looking for room #1, but almost instantly, the second bell rang.

Damn! I'm late. Skylar ran around a corner and hastily pushed open the door with the nameplate C-1-1 on it. The door swung open as the entire class turned their eyes to face him. The teacher, an old, stout lady, turned her obscenely large nose to Skylar, like an arrow focusing at its target. She sat in the front of the class in her desk, glaring intently at him. "You are late, Mr…?" She asked.

"Johnson, ma'am," Skylar completed her sentence, "Skylar Johnson."

"Well, well, Mr. Johnson." The teacher said smiling deviously, "Five points will be deducted from your final, and I will make it ten if you don't find yourself a seat."

Skylar quickly found himself a seat in the back of the room, and took out a pencil as the teacher rose from her chair behind the desk and talked, "I am Mrs. Wilsmen, and I will be your proctor for your Science final today. The time you have been allotted for this test is one hour, and will begin in five minutes. Take this time to do some final studying." She sat into her chair, pulled out a book, and began to read.

Skylar leaned from out of his desk and pulled out his science binder. He needed this time to get his mind into test mode. Density is the measure of how tightly packed molecules are, he went over in his mind, mass is the measure of how much matter is in an object and volume is the measure of how much space and object takes up. Soon, the five minutes was up, the teacher placed down her book and stood up once more.

"The five minutes is up. I will proceed to hand out the test. Once you receive it, read the directions and then go on to the test." She handed all of the tests as the students remained quiet. When she gave out the last green packet, she spoke once again, "Your one hour commences now."

The students picked up their pencils and read the first passage speedily. The occasionally scratch of a pencil circling or underlining something in the passage was heard. Skylar was very calm and collected. He breezed through the first passage on the periodic table and answered the questions easily. He finished the test with ten minutes to spare. He put his hands behind his hands and relaxed.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The school day passed without any notable events. He completed his English final easily enough, said hello and goodbye to Kayla, and left on his bike for home. He looked forward to going home. Today was the day his dad would take him to Cooperstown, New York. Better known to baseball fans as the birthplace of the American Pastime.

Skylar pedaled homed with a notable extra speed, looking forward to the day and following weekend that would come. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Skylar heard the screech of an owl. An owl, he thought, in the day time? Weren't they nocturnal? He waved the occurrence off like he did a fly.

As he turned the corner leading to Iliton Place, Skylar once again heard the all too familiar screech of an owl. He stopped, tilted his head upward, and gazed into the skies. It was a barn owl, gently perched atop a lamppost, its piercing eyes searching for an unknown eyesore. The owl shifted his weight ever so slightly and met Skylar's eyes.

Abruptly, the large, brown bird jumped off the post, giving Skylar a fright, and flew towards a house; his house, in fact.

He followed the owl to his front door, reached for his key, but found the door to be unlocked and ajar.

"That's odd," he said out loud, "Normally, Mom is doing her part-time job. Or is that Tuesdays and Thursdays?" Skylar slipped through the door and into the still house. He dropped his bag down to the side of the door and walked to the kitchen. He popped his head in not unlike what his mom had done that morning.

He found his mother, dressed in her work clothes, having coffee with a man that Skylar had never met. Perhaps his mom was having an affair? If they were, he wanted to make sure he knew about it. "Hi there," he said out of the blue "What are you…ah…doing?"

The man lifted his head from his coffee and stared at Skylar. His eyes were tired and worn, most probably from years of many hardships and sadness. They gazed upon Skylar, searching for some indication of…God only knows. "Yes," he said, "Mr. Johnson, we've been waiting for you. I trust you haven't received your owl?"

"My…wait?" Skylar asked, clearly confused.

"Your letter. It'll explain most of what I'm here for- ah, here it comes."

Skylar whipped his head to where the man's eyes were directed towards, the still-open front door. An owl burst through the door, flew through the hall into the kitchen, and hovered slightly over Skylar's head, which he recognized as the owl he saw on the nearby lamppost. The barn owl dropped an envelope on Skylar's lap, and swiftly departed the house. He looked at the envelope, and then up to the man, who nodded his head in approval.

Skylar quickly opened it faster than a greedy child on Christmas. He straightened the tough parchment paper and read the letter slowly aloud:

"Dear Mr. Johnson,

We invite you to attend Talmonton's School of Magical Study in Hilberton, Ohio. Transportation will be provided, your school requirements (books, robes, etcetera) is included in this letter, and a representative from the school-"

"That's me" the man interjected.

"Will come to further explain the situation. We hope to see you the twentieth of August, the start of the term.

The Deputy Headmaster,

Professor J. Hopkin"