0062120085. (C) (15 page)

M
EDLOCK’S CUSTOM MILK BAR WAS A REASONABLY SHORT
bike ride from Dillon and Danielle’s house. It was already dark outside by the time we got there. I hated that about fall and winter in North Dakota. I didn’t know what it was like in other parts of the country, but here it got dark fairly early starting in the fall, and by winter it would be completely dark by 4:30 p.m. each afternoon. Even after spending my whole life here, it still bothered me.

But this new milk-bar place was brightly lit and packed with families and kids. It was huge, with several rows
of red booths, and nearly all of them were filled. It had opened right before the school year started and had been pretty popular. Apparently it was modeled to be like an old-fashioned ice cream place, except that instead of ice cream their specialty was custom-made milk. Although apparently they served old-fashioned ice cream made from their milk as well. I didn’t know what made old-fashioned ice cream old-fashioned. To me ice cream was ice cream, and I’d never had ice cream I didn’t like.

We got in line, which practically stretched out the door. But that made sense—it was prime dessert time. As we waited, I noticed that most of the employees were teenagers. Except for one guy who was like thirty, who I guessed was the manager or owner.

“So, are you guys going to get ice cream or are you gonna try the custom milk?” I asked.

“I’m going to try the milk. I’ve heard it’s amazing,” Danielle said.

“Just ice cream for me,” Dillon said.

“I’ll probably get both actually!” Danielle said.

“I never have ice cream before,” Olek said.

“What!” Danielle said. “How could you live this long without ever having ice cream? This is going to change your life forever, Olek.”

“You’ve really
never
had ice cream?” Dillon asked. “Is ice cream illegal in your country or something?”

I threw an elbow at Dillon and he yelped. But it didn’t matter. Olek just laughed it off. I think he sort of understood Dillon by now and just took it as a joke.

“No, I have ice cream, just not American ice cream. In my country, ice cream is not always dessert food. In my country, number one ice cream flavor is boiled goose skin.”

“Eeewwww,” Danielle said.

“Seriously?” Dillon asked.

Olek nodded. “Yes, but this is not my favorite flavor. My favorite flavor is kidney bean.”

We all laughed, even though I was pretty sure Olek had not been joking.

We were just a few people away from ordering now.

“What kind do you want?” I asked Olek. “I’ll get yours.”

“That’s so sweet of you!” Danielle said.

I just grinned and tried my best not to let my face get too hot. The truth was my mom had given me some money before we’d left, so it’s not like I was personally buying it for him. But still.

“But keep in mind, they don’t have boiled duck or
kidney bean flavor,” Dillon said, I think genuinely trying to be helpful.

“I like chocolate,” Olek said.

“Sounds good,” I said.

Then we were up.

“What can I get you kids?” the older guy working the counter asked.

I ordered chocolate ice cream for me and Olek.

“You’re not going to try our custom milks?” he asked. “I mean, our ice cream is good, but our custom milk is really our specialty. I designed them myself, you know.”

I noticed that his nametag said
Mule Medlock
. I remembered the name of the place was Medlock’s Custom Milk Bar.

“You’re the owner?” I asked.

“Yes, sir. Custom milks! The idea just came to me one night in a dream. Think about it: Everything is custom-made these days to suit everyone’s unique tastes. Why not milk? Any kind of milk, any flavor, we can make it. We’ve got all different kinds. One percent, two percent. I could have some one-and-a-half percent mixed. We also have many flavors—mint, mango, tarragon. Want peppermint seven-and-a-half percent? We can do that. Or popcorn-flavored twenty percent? We got you covered
there, as well. Literally, whatever the customer wants.”

“Uh, okay, what do you recommend?”

“I know just the thing,” Mule said.

He turned around and dug inside of the cooler and took out two glass milk bottles. He poured us each a small sample size of milk. One was pale purple, the other pale orange.

“Okay,” he said, “try these. Here, a mango five percent, and this one is a grape seven-and-a-half percent.”

He slid the little cups across the counter.

I picked up my cup of milk and took a drink. It was thick, way thicker than the skim milk my parents normally bought. But it was also amazing. I expected it to just be like a milkshake or smoothie, but it was something else entirely. It was smooth, creamy, cold, and had the perfect amount of grape flavor.

“Wow,” I said, genuinely meaning it.

“Right?” he said with a smile.

Olek took a drink of his and then promptly downed the rest of it.

“Oh, this is like drinking cash money!” he said, practically shouting. “May I try more please, Mr. Mule?”

“Of course!” Mule said, delighted, “I’m so glad you like them! Here, try the peanut-butter-banana three percent.
And, please, call me Medlock.”

He poured Olek a cup of thick yellowish milk. Olek took a drink and then finished it again quickly with a slurp.

“This taste way better than boiled goose skin ice cream!” he said.

Medlock just beamed, clearly proud of his work. Dillon and Danielle laughed at Olek’s reaction. Medlock poured them each a sample as well. They took a drink and joined our ranting and raving about how good it was.

“Carson, you must try peanut banana!” Olek exclaimed.

I’d never seen him so excited. Mule Medlock poured me a sample before I could even reply. I took a drink. It was even better than the grape milk.

“I want to change my order,” I announced. “Forget the ice cream. I’ll have a medium peanut-butter-banana milk.”

“Yes, me, too,” Olek said.

Dillon and Danielle also ordered milks instead of ice cream.

“Sure thing!” Mule said and then got our orders ready. He put them all on the counter. “Here, on the house. Just be sure to tell all your friends and family.”

“Wow, thanks!” I said.

We grabbed our orders and then headed toward a booth in the back corner.

“This stuff is awesome!” Danielle said, taking a huge gulp of her milk.

“No kidding,” I said. “What do you think, Olek?”

We all looked at Olek, but he couldn’t even talk because he was basically inhaling his milk. He had a huge grin on his face as he drank. We laughed.

“That good?” Dillon said.

“Is like liquid treasures!” Olek said.

That was a pretty fitting description, I had to admit. This was a pretty nice addition to the town. I mean, maybe things wouldn’t end up being so boring here after all? First I find out that there’s a top secret government agency in my town that I get to be a part of. Then I find out there’s this cool new milk bar in town. And, I made a new friend who couldn’t be more funny and interesting. My boring North Dakota routine was taking an insanely cool detour.

“I will miss this place when I go back home!” Olek said.

“We can come back tomorrow,” I said.

“No, Carson, I think he means when he goes back
home to his own country,” Danielle said.

“Yes, precisely,” Olek said.

“Wait, but you’re not . . .” I started.

And then it hit me. Of course Olek wasn’t going to stay here forever. It was so obvious but somehow it hadn’t dawned on me until that moment. He was just here under witness protection until his parents could testify at that trial. Which was just three days away now. And then this would all suddenly be over. Olek would be gone, back with his family. And I’d go back to my old life. The realization hit me pretty hard.

“Are you excited to go back home?” Dillon asked.

“Yes, very much. I miss my dad. But it also makes me sad, because I will miss my new friends very much.”

“Oh, Olek, we’ll miss you, too!” Danielle said, getting up to give him a hug. “But you’re not leaving for a while, right? I mean, how long did you say your dad’s contagious goat disease would last for?”

“Right, I be here for whole school year,” Olek said.

I exchanged a look with him as he said this. We both knew that wasn’t true. It was just his cover story. I knew better. Olek was basically only here until his parents testified and then that would likely be it. It was the first time I had thought about it, and it basically crushed me. My
friendship with Olek the past few days had helped give me everything my life had been missing. Excitement, intrigue, and the chance to be a part of something big. Something important. But I realized sitting there, right then, that even more than that stuff, I was just going to miss hanging out with Olek.

“This is so good!” Dillon said, slurping the rest of his milk through the straw. “I want more!”

“Yes, me as well!” Olek said. “May we order large bucket of milk to go? I will take bath in this tonight.”

I was too bummed to even laugh with the rest of them, so instead I just took another drink of milk and tried to focus on the next few days and not think about anything beyond that. If I really only had three days left with Olek, then I’d have to make the most of them.

T
HE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL, THE ONLY THING ON MY MIND WAS
getting either Agent Nineteen or Blue alone so I could talk to them about the phone technicians we’d seen the day before after school. They probably had seen them as well, but I thought I should tell them anyway, just in case.

I headed for the music room before first period. Nineteen was there, but so was another kid. It looked like Mr. Jensen was helping him take apart and clean his saxophone.

“Hey,” I said, as I walked into the classroom, “Uh, Mr.
Jensen, can I talk to you for a minute? About the school play?”

Agent Nineteen looked at me and I could tell right away that he knew it was about Agency business.

“Can it wait? I’m busy helping Charlie with his sax.”

“Not really, I have detention after school, so this is the only time I can talk,” I said.

He sighed. “Sorry, Charlie. I’ll be right back.”

He led me back into his office and then into his real office through the secret entrance that opened when he played a jingle on the piano. It seemed like overkill to me. We could have just whispered or something.

“We can’t be too careful,” he said as he closed the door behind him, practically reading my mind. “So, what is it?”

I told him as quickly as I could about seeing several suspicious guys dressed as phone company technicians outside the school the day before. Then I told him about how they hadn’t seemed to notice us at all.

“It was right of you to come tell me,” he said. “We noticed them as well and are checking out the lead. We don’t want to move too aggressively or they may suspect they’re getting close. The good news is the plan seems to be working very well. We have noticed a significant
reduction of Pancake Haus activity in and around the school today. We have reason to believe they’re moving on to the other middle schools in town. Good work, Zero. You’re doing a great job so far.”

“Thanks,” I said, nodding.

For the rest of the day I didn’t see anything suspicious, guys in suits or phone technician uniforms or black sedans or anything of the sort. Which made sense if what Agent Nineteen had said about the plan working was true. It was sort of odd, though. The days until the ITDO trial were ticking away and things only seemed to be getting more normal as it approached. In most spy movies I’d seen, it was the opposite. Things usually escalated in some crazy way as the time ran out. Yet, for two days, Olek and I and my friends just hung out, went to movies, played games, and pretty much acted like normal kids.

Wednesday was exactly the same. We went to school, went to class, went to detention. Nothing suspicious at all.

After detention, Zack, Ethan, Danielle, and Dillon caught up with Olek and me and asked if we wanted to play basketball on the outdoor school court.

I didn’t particularly love basketball, but Ethan and
Zack were obsessed with pretty much all sports and they talked Dillon, Danielle, and me into playing with them from time to time. I figured what better way to make Olek look like a normal American kid with nothing to hide than to hang out and play a normal American sport?

“What is object of game?” Olek asked as we all stood there, picking sides.

Zack groaned. It had just been decided that it would be me, Zack, and Olek versus Dillon, Danielle, and Ethan. Zack was really competitive, so I’m sure finding out that one of his team members didn’t even know how to play was the worst thing that could happen to him at that moment.

“You just try to score on the other team,” Zack said.

“How I make score?” Olek asked.

Zack let out a small growl and dribbled the basketball really hard a few times.

“You need to get this ball through that hoop,” he said.

“Put this ball through this hoop?” Olek asked with a skeptical look on his face. “This makes no sense. It is not possible.”

Zack slapped his palm to his forehead. “Can we change teams?” he asked.

“Come on, let’s just play,” I said.

Zack whined for a few more minutes but eventually relented and we started a game. And after just a few minutes, he seemed resolved to take every shot himself. He only passed it to me whenever absolutely necessary, and never to Olek.

On our fifth or sixth time down the court, Zack got triple-teamed and dumped the ball off to me. Two of the defenders quickly switched back to me, leaving us all covered, except for Olek, who was standing in the corner behind the three-point line all by himself. I didn’t want to embarrass him, but I also thought Zack would kill me if I turned the ball over. And Olek was the only one of us who was open.

Olek held out his hands, asking for the ball.

I passed it to him, hoping he would at least be able to catch it. He caught the ball with ease and then before anyone could hardly even react, he sent up a shot that tore through the net with that satisfying
swish
.

Zack threw up his arms and yelled, “Nice three, Olek!”

Olek grinned at me and then pointed at the other team as they all gaped at him.

“Yes, I make it snow storm here,” he said. “Is a bad blizzard.”

“You made it rain, Olek,” I corrected him.

“Yes, this what I say,” he said, still smirking.

We finished the game, now with Zack and Olek basically owning the court, seeing as how I’m an average player at best. Our team ended up winning four out of the five games we played. Olek almost never missed a shot.

“So, maybe I’m crazy,” Zack said as we all sat around, cooling off before heading home. “But I think you’ve heard of basketball before.”

Olek laughed. “Yes, there are many players in NBA from countries near mine, like Mirza Teletovic, Toni Kukoc, Zydrunas Ilgauskas, Andrei Kirilenko, Vlade Divac, Darko Milicic, and my favorite player, Viacheslav Kravtsov.”

“Wow,” Zack said.

“Yes,” Olek said with a nod.

We were all too surprised to say much else. It was pretty awesome to be able to give him something he probably would never get to experience here otherwise. Which was just a fun game of basketball with friends. Real friends. He must have been really lonely before, just hanging out alone at his old safe house all the time. I was pretty sure that nobody at my school besides my friends knew how funny he was.

But having so much fun that day after school just reminded me again that it was all going to end soon. The ITDO trial was tomorrow night. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I did know that it was getting harder and harder not to think about how it would all be ending soon. And once it did, I had a feeling that North Dakota would feel even emptier and smaller to me than it ever had before.