Processing took forever—seriously, forever.
Bess marched me to the Constabulary, which seemed like the Flamingo Springs version of a police station. The constables wore apricot-colored coats paired with chocolate berets with large feathers.
It was weird having people wearing hats straight out of a Revolutionary War movie look at me like a novelty. One constable did a double take when he saw me wearing the purple Seer coat and tripped over a garbage can.
Bess fetched a bald constable with a bristly mustache.
“This kid’s the Underlander?” he asked.
“This is Santiago, the Seer of Flamingo Springs,” Bess corrected testily. “Santiago, meet Harold.”
Harold handed me a folder stuffed with papers. “K, fill out these forms, ki- I mean Seer, then give them straight to me. I’ll make sure they get filed quick.”
“I’ve got some shopping to do. Keep an eye on him,” Bess instructed.
She left as I settled myself into a wooden chair and pulled out a stack of forms from the folder. The questions were surprisingly thorough. Sure, I was asked my height, weight, hair color, etc., but then it really started delving into things like, what was the gross value of my wardrobe, which cheese flavors did I prefer, and what celebrities did I find offensive. It was bizarre.
Bess showed up two hours later (yep, two hours) holding a very heavy-looking burlap sack, which I didn’t ask about. I was almost done with my second-to-last form about “criminal intentions” of my uncles, aunts, cousins, and other extended family.
When I finally answered the last question on the final form (“If your divorced paternal grandfather were to marry your mother’s mother’s daughter, would you refer to her as your aunt or your grandmother?), I stuck it into the folder and walked it over to where Harold looked like he was snoozing on his feet. I nudged him twice with the folder before he came to.
“Here you go,” I said, handing it to him.
“We need that processed–” Bess started but Harold interrupted.
“I know I know. As soon as possible,” Harold said. “Don’t worry. I know someone in the Citizen Information Management Bureau who can get it done quietly. You owe me a good prophecy.”
“Harold, first of all, there are no good or bad prophecies. Second, I’m not the one you need to talk to. Santiago is.”
Once we were finally outside the Constabulary, I turned to Bess and asked her the question that had been ping ponging around my skull.
“What was the point of that whole thing?”
“You foolishly assume there was a point,” Bess huffed as I watched a guy levitating a wooden crate into a building. “Grand First Colonist Heggs likes to prove he’s in charge by passing ridiculous laws.”
“Who is this Grand First Colonist guy?” I asked. “Is he in charge of the flyland? Like a president or something?”
“Yes, Heggs is in charge of the entire North American Colony,” Bess said.
“Is Flamingo Springs the only city here?” I asked.
“No. There are dozens. About 500,000 people live up here.”
I nearly bumped into Bess as she stopped in front of an old townhouse and started unlocking the door. It took me a few moments to realize we were back in front of her place. “Enough questions, I bought you a couple things.”
She opened the door and I followed her inside, curious about the burlap bag.
“For this first gift, you must use some discretion as it’s not technically legal.”
I squirmed. What was it? Magical contraband or something? “OK. . . .” I said, hesitantly.
She set the bag on a coffee table next to her sofa and beckoned me closer. I approached it slowly as though something might jump out. I reached in and touched something wooden and about the size of a tissue box. I tried picking it up, only to realize it was as heavy as a bowling ball. Maybe two.
Using both hands, I pulled a small wooden box out of the bag. It looked like a mini, blue treasure chest. I set it carefully on the coffee table.
“It’s heavy. How did you–”
Bess seemed to know what I was about to ask. “The bag magically makes the contents lighter. There’s another trunk in there.”
“Sweet. What’s inside them? A crystal ball?” I asked, reaching into the bag to heft out an almost identical yellow chest.
“Absolutely not,” she said, looking appalled. “These are portals to help you get to and from the Underland. Portal magic isn’t common these days so these didn’t come cheap. Take care of them. You’ll need to make sure no one catches you using them on this side or in the Underland.”
“I’m supposed to crawl into one of those to get here? Aren’t they a bit small?” I asked, setting the yellow chest on the table.
“They have shrinking spells placed on them. The spell will last a few more hours, so find a place for it before then.”
“What’s so illegal about it?”
“I don’t have a permit for a portal to the Underland.”
“Won’t I get in trouble?”
“Only if you get caught. Don’t.”
I digested that for a moment, then decided to move on. “How do they work?”
“Open them up.”
I turned the tiny metal key that was jutting out of the lid of the yellow one. It gave a satisfying click, then popped open. I repeated the process with the blue trunk.
Bess stepped next to me, reached into both of them and pulled up two false bottoms. She then took her cane and stuck it into one of the chests. It immediately emerged from the other side, albeit pointed the other direction.
“Whoa, weird,” I said as she pulled her cane out.
“I will leave this one in the alley behind my residence. You will take the other home with you.”
I put my hand in one trunk and saw it come out the other. Unable to help myself, I grabbed my own hand and pulled it back through. “This is way cool,” I gushed.
Then an idea struck me. I pulled my phone out and dropped it through. It soared up out of the chest before gravity caught it and it dropped back in only to pop up out of the first trunk. Bess harrumphed disapprovingly, snatching the phone out of midair and placing it on the table as I laughed.
“My other gift is for humanity,” Bess said, standing up and hobbling toward a door. She emerged a few minutes later with one of the weirdest potted plants I’d ever seen. It was neon orange with brown leaves.
“I’m not good with plants,” I confessed.
“This one doesn’t take much to keep alive,” she said. “I want you to place it near the window in your bedroom.”
“Is this for Seer stuff?” I asked.
“No. It counteracts all smells in an enclosed space. It should be able to handle the noxious fumes in your room.”
“Um, thanks?”
“You’re welcome,” she said sincerely. “One last thing, clap the backs of your hands together twice.”
Giving her a bewildered look, I did what she asked. My purple coat disappeared.
“Now do it again.”
My coat reappeared. Delighted, I tried it a couple more times, earning an impatient look from Bess.
“Remember, that’s not just a coat you’re wearing. It’s a mantle. You are responsible to help the people of Flamingo Springs, understood?”
The knot returned to my stomach. Saying, I understand seemed a bit naïve, as I still didn’t have a good sense for what being a Seer meant, so I nodded instead.
Bess checked her watch. “Teddy should be at your house.”
“Teddy?” I asked. Then I remembered. “Oh, the portal van.”
Bess acted as though I hadn’t said anything. “I want to see you here at 9 o’clock Monday morning. Don’t be late.”
The word late stirred my memory. Wasn’t there somewhere I was supposed to be?
Oh dang. “The family barbecue! We were supposed to go two hours ago. My parents must be going nuts!”
Bess rolled her eyes.
I closed the chests, then put the blue one back into the bag she’d given me. Hefting the sack in one hand and hugging the potted plant to my chest with the other, I walked to the door where I’d first entered Flamingo Springs, a few hours ago.
Bess opened the door for me.
“Goodbye,” I said. I just about stepped through it, then turned to her. “And um, thank you for everything.”
Bess nodded and I hurried through the portal.