Lester closed his math book and leaned back in his chair. The sun had set hours ago, and he stared past the desk piled high with homework, out his bedroom window, and into the dark. Older students had warned him that the workload would be heavier in middle school, and they hadn’t been lying. Of course, it didn’t help that Mrs. Q’s assignment alone had taken him as long as all the others combined. If the rest of the year was going to be anything like this, he wasn’t sure how he’d make it to the end.

On the plus side, he’d been kept so busy he’d had no time to worry over the strange events of the previous weeks. The incident with the cows seemed a distant memory, and even his brother’s Drawing-In had faded into the annals of boring family obligations. The image of the old woman from the woods, however, still loomed clearly in Lester’s mind. Without invitation, her face, framed by gray hair, and sporting that odd smile, made regular visits to his dreams.

Examining his hand, Lester noticed his bruises from the bite were nearly healed. There had been no sign of Mac since their last encounter. He kept meaning to bike up to the farm to make sure the dog was okay but hadn’t found the time.

Lester had been relieved to discover that the only class he shared with Thomas was math. Somehow, the new kid had inexplicably become an instant favorite of Mrs. Q’s. Lester had never seen the curmudgeonly teacher behave as if she actually liked a student before and found the sight unsettling. He’d made the mistake of mentioning this to Amanda, who’d quickly gotten defensive. She suggested that if she had to put up with Mae, the least Lester could do was give Thomas a chance. When he’d pointed out that she didn’t exactly put up with Mae, Amanda had mumbled something about one more vampire lecture and wandered off.

Yawning, Lester watched his reflection in the window. He was trying to decide if he looked a bit older or just more tired when his mother yelled from downstairs that dinner was ready. He switched off his desk lamp and walked through the darkened room but stopped abruptly in the doorway at the sound of a whispered conversation.

“I appreciate the initiative,” his father was saying. “I really do, but not this time, okay?” Lester heard his brother’s voice reply, but it was too quiet to make out. “That’s true,” continued his father, “but this isn’t the Drawing-In ceremony. You’re not ready.”

Lester carefully leaned his head out into the hall and saw his father and brother standing at the bottom of the staircase, near the front door.

“I received this from Mr. Noxumbra.” his father said, unfolding a square piece of paper. Bernard leaned in close but didn’t touch it. “Mr. Poole is meeting me at The Morticians. The two of us can handle it should anything go wrong. Alright?”

His brother looked disappointed but nodded in agreement.

“Good man,” their father said. He turned to go, but Bernard grabbed his arm. Lester watched as his brother pulled something from around his neck and held it out. “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” said Mr. North. His hand closed around the chain, and the small medallion dangling from the end began to glow.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The square white van bounced along, and Lester shifted his position atop the pile of mailbags, bracing his feet against the dash to keep from falling off. Postal trucks weren’t designed for passengers. The only official seat was behind the wheel, where Ben Titus hummed to himself as he drove. The back of the van was piled high with plastic totes, leaving just enough space for the small bicycle that stood tucked between them.

Lester had waited until he’d heard his father leave before descending the stairs for dinner. He’d been prepared to make a big show of being tired. But both his mother and brother were unusually quiet, and neither protested when he excused himself after only a few bites. Back in his room, he’d covered some pillows with a blanket, pulled on a dark sweatshirt, and quietly climbed out his bedroom window into the branches of a large oak tree. From there, it was an easy trip down to the ground and then to the post office.

“So, what’s on the agenda for this evening?” Ben asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

“The comic book store and then maybe the library,” Lester replied, glad for the distraction. He was a terrible liar and hoped not having to deceive Ben to his face might make his story more believable.

“And you’re sure your parents are okay with you riding back in the dark?”

“Oh, yeah. I do it all the time.” Lester tried to sound confident, but to head off any follow-up questions, he quickly changed the subject. “Ben? When you were my age, did you want to be a postman?”

Ben laughed. “Heck no. When I was your age, I wanted to be Captain America!”

“Come on, Ben. Be serious.”

“Oh,” Ben said, sparing a glance at Lester. “It’s a serious conversation we’re having. In that case, I’d have to say no. I don’t think I had any idea what I wanted to do with my life when I was your age. Do you?”

“Not really,” said Lester.

“That’s okay. No one expects you to have it all figured out at eleven.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Lester looked out the window at the scene flowing by. They had descended along the narrow road that wound its way down through the forest surrounding Giles Hollow and emerged into the valley below. Here, the landscape flattened, and clusters of new houses were lit by bright street lights, marking the outskirts of the town of Elmwood.

“You know, Lester,” said Ben. “When we’re faced with life’s bigger questions, sometimes the only thing you can do is trust your heart. Right is still right, even if you’re the only one doing it. And wrong is still wrong, even if everyone else is for it.”

“And how do I know which is which?”

“That’s the tricky part.”

“No offense, Ben,” Lester said, “but that’s not entirely helpful.” He could feel Ben’s eyes on him but kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead and the thought of where it was taking him.

“I know,” Ben said with a sigh. “It’s one of those vague adult responses to a straightforward question. Unfortunately, life doesn’t come with an instruction manual or easy answers, much to my eternal dismay. But as my Molly used to say, when in doubt, think of others. It’s our duty to help. That path will rarely steer you wrong.”

They rode on in silence. Lester wondered what Ben would say if he knew where he was really going tonight. Would he be able to tell him if he was doing the right thing, or would he think Lester was the one in need of help?