Daniel Fitch of the FBI

Illustration by Anastasia Lawson
There they are. Like always. A block ahead’a me.

Oh, oh. Missed the curb. Watchin’ them. He’ll have heard that. Yeah . . . he’s lookin back. The dog, too.

But pretendin’ ta ignore me. Like always. Wait a minute! What’s he doin’? Crossin’ the street . . . ta this side. Why?

The dog doesn’t want to . . . is pullin’ back. I’ll out-fox ’em and skate by on their side. Hey . . . he’s comin’ back. Cuttin’ me off at the pass. Ta talk ta me, I think! Pick up your skateboard and act nonchalant, Daniel. “Hi, puppy dog.”

“Good morning. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Wonder what he wants ta know.

“Tell me your name. I’m taking a writing course and my current assignment is to describe a young fellow like you.”

A likely story. “Michael Moore.”

“Thanks. I’ll show you a copy when I get it finished.”

“Okay. What’s your dog’s name?”

“Hercules.”

“Goodby, Hercules.” Now let’s bug out’a here. Lucky I’ve got the board.

There’s Roger . . . Agent 007 . . . hidden behind the hedge up ahead. Just like I told him to. Oh, oh, he’s comin’ this way. The guy’ll see him. “Have I got somethin’ ta tell you!”

“Then hold up, Mike . . . I mean Daniel. Let’s walk ’n talk. So I can hear ya. I saw ya talkin’ to that Nazi spy.

“Uh . . . huh. I told him my name was Michael Moore.”

“That is your name.”

“My cover name. The one my parents know me by, and people at school . . . in case he checks with them. Ta the FBI I’m Daniel Fitch. Daniel Fitch of the FBI . . . finally caught the Nazi spy. He’ll never get that name out of me. And don’t you tell . . . anybody. And I found out the name’a his dog.”

“What is it?”

“Hercules. It’s a specially trained dog.”

“Probably why it’s got that name.”

“And wait ‘til I tell ya his cover story. I told ya he was on ta us. Let’s head down this other street. Away from school. Don’t look back! He’ll never catch us on these skateboards.”

“But the dog might.”

“We’ll turn at the corner, go around the block, and double back on ’em from behind. Top speed.”

* * *

That did it. They’re out ahead’a us now. “Look, he’s at the corner, lookin’ down that street . . . for us. The dog, too . . . I told ya . . . one’a those specially trained dogs. Carry your board an’ follow me. Real quiet. Careful ta keep out’a sight. We’ll stay a block behind and watch ’em. Hide behind these trees. Then the doorway of the barbershop. Then behind the big trash container.”

“But we’d better git ta school before we’re late.”

“I knew he had ta be a Nazi spy by the way he was dressed . . . and that beard . . . but this proves it. I’ll be reporting’ in ta the office on the computer tanight.”

“Tanight, Mike?”

“Call me Daniel . . . or Fitch . . . when we’re alone like this. But don’t forget ta call me Mike at school.”

“Hey, look . . . they turned.”

“Okay. Let’s bug outa here . . . head for school.”

[Return to Stories For Chalice]

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