Author's Note: And here we go. This is the end!
Chapter Nine – Of Past, Present, and Future
For the past week there had been no activity next door. It wasn't that Joan and Arthur weren't home; they were. The kids had seen them come home and leave, but the Campbells hadn't done anything interesting. With nothing new happening and nothing to keep them entertained, Caroline and Carter were starting to get tired of their spying. While Caroline was still willing to keep an eye out, Carter had given up. He had far better things to do than watch his neighbors clean their house and work on paperwork. They'd already gotten what they'd wanted to anyway. Caroline could sit there by the bushes and listen to what was going on next door if she wanted to. He was going to enjoy playing baseball with his friend.
Joan knew the two children were outside next door, but she wasn't paying full attention to what was going on. Now that she and Arthur were done providing clues there was no need to be as aware of what the kids were up to. Even though she was more focused on enjoying what could very well be one of the last days of warm sunshine, she was still registering what they were saying next door. Again it was habit. She simply couldn't help listening.
"What the heck is your sister doing, Carter?"
"Watching the neighbors."
"Why?" Carter's friend laughed.
"Because our neighbors are probably spies."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. We've been spying on them. It was fun for a little while, but…" he shrugged.
"It's still fun," Caroline countered. "I like being a spy."
"You're not a real spy, stupid."
"I could be when I grow up!"
"No you couldn't."
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Because you're a girl."
Joan's eyes widened in shock as the words reverberated through her head. It was like someone had crashed a cymbal inside her mind. The words were all too familiar.
"Because you're a girl."
Eight year old Joan narrowed her eyes and glared up at her older sister's friend. She should have known it wouldn't be a good idea to show off and tell him she didn't want to be anything boring when she grew up. Most girls wanted to be teachers, nurses, astronauts, or ballerinas. Not Joan though. She wanted to grow up and be a spy. Apparently her sister and her friend didn't think that was possible. That had only made Joan mad, and she'd demanded to know why they didn't think she could become a spy.
"He's right. Girls can't be spies, Joanie," her sister agreed.
"Yes they can!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Says who?"
"Everyone knows that girls aren't spies. Duh," the friend added to back her sister up.
"Well why not?"
"Girls aren't strong enough."
"You're not exactly brave either you know," her sister told her as well. "Whenever you see a spider you run in the other direction."
Joan crossed her arms and glared at her sister again. While her sister was right about Joan's reaction to spiders, it still wasn't a good enough reason. If she were a spy and had to deal with a spider she could do it. Probably.
"Besides Joanie, spies have to be really good at keeping secrets. You're not always very good at that."
"Yes I am!"
"Girls never stop talking. There's no way you could ever keep a secret for a long time," her sister's friend told her.
He wound up getting hit in response, though not by Joan. While they wandered off, Joan's sister berating her friend for the girls talking comment, Joan glared after them.
"You'll see," she muttered. "One day I'll be the best spy ever."
A sudden door slamming started Joan out of her memories. She blinked and looked around. Arthur was standing by their back door and waving at her.
"We've got a problem. Let's go."
That was all she needed to hear. It was time to go back to work; the work that a girl shouldn't have been able to do. She smiled briefly before standing and heading inside so they could head to the office and take care of whatever this problem was. And she would be able to take care of it. After all, she was incredibly good at her job.
O . o . O . o . O
The next day after school Caroline's mother called out to her.
"Caroline! You have mail."
Caroline scurried over in excitement and snatched the letter off the table. She rarely got mail, and about every letter she did receive was from her grandmother. This one had to be from someone else though. Not only was her name the only thing on the envelope, the handwriting didn't look anything like her grandmother's. She quickly tore the envelope open and found a single rectangle of cardstock. There was only one sentence scrawled onto the paper.
You can be whatever you want to be.
Below that was what looked like the alphabet written twice. Caroline had absolutely no idea what it meant. When she looked at the first alphabet closer she realized something was wrong. The "J" was missing. Curious, she checked the second set. The "J" wasn't missing from that one, but the "C" was. JC? What did that mean? And who had the letter come from? Finally the pieces clicked together and her eyes widened in shock. JC. Joan Campbell? Had Mrs. Campbell heard what her brother had told her yesterday? Yes, somehow she must have. It was the only thing that made sense.
"She really is a spy," Caroline whispered to herself.
Immediately she raced off to get her own paper, pencil, and envelope.
Joan found the letter waiting in her mailbox the next evening. The childish handwriting on the envelope had to be from Caroline. When she opened the letter she found a message similar to her own.
I won't tell if you won't.
Like her own letter, there was no signature on the bottom. Instead there were two lines of alphabets. The first ran out of room at the end and had to run up the side of the paper to finish. Despite that and the obvious eraser marks by C, D, E, and F it was still legible. The second one wasn't as clear. There was no way to go up the side like the first set, so when space began to run out the letters became more and more squished together and on top of each other. Thankfully she knew exactly what the alphabet code was. She had written it herself after all. The missing "C" and "H" proved it was from Caroline.
Joan smiled happily. Caroline had gotten the note and hopefully she would take the message to heart. Maybe the name Caroline Hamlin would turn up on the agency's radar at some point in the future. One never knew.
