"So you'll be going all the way to where?" My eyes wandered as I tried to restrain myself from staring at her face for too long--her bloated eyes explained why she had constantly made squealing sounds yesterday during our call--she'd been crying.
"Ka- Kangi- Kangi-something. I told you, it's somewhere in Northern Quebec. Hold on, I'll find my letter."
I shuffled through the inner pockets of my coat. What's this? Wow, a Tim Horton's loyalty stamp card? When was this from? Valid until 23rd January 1992... Jesus, gross, dad. At least clean your coat when you give it to your son. Speaking of Tim Horton's, I really could use a--
"Never mind, Josh, it's okay. We're here, Union Station. Just don't forget to call me everyday, alright?"
"Of course, Olivia. You don't have to remind me. Let's go."
We stepped off the bus, and made our way. The chilly November wind reminded me of last winter, when I had first gathered up the courage to invite my childhood friend to a date. Now, here she was, as my girlfriend, dropping me off goodbye in lieu of my parents who had gone away on another business trip.
The last month had been hectic. I always knew I had special powers--magic, even. But only I knew it. Oh, Olivia sort of knew it too; I'd use it from time to time to amuse or scare her. But that was it. So when I received my acceptance letter to some unknown 'Wizardry college' by the name of 'Moosehorns' in the mail, my parents began telling me stories: some magical world populated by magical people with magical powers, witches and wizards, wands and brooms. It was my fate, they said. It was also the first time they paid so much attention to me. They urged to follow my path and honor the letter. I began reading their collection of books, and was let inside a hidden room in the house that I never knew existed, filled with wands, brooms and things you'd otherwise find in a theme park souvenir shop.
"Josh, come on. Get a grip. Help me out a little bit; I can't find platform 10 1/2 on my own." She chuckled as she looked at me with a face of worry.
Right. Platform 10 1/2. The train would then take me to Moosehorns, and then I'll have the chance to learn with of others with the same unique special talent. It made me small, but was the where I felt I could find somewhere to really belong. Olivia, to whom I'd told everything, made me feel great and wanted, but... At Moosehorns, there'd be hundreds and hundreds of people like me... It's where anybody like me would want to go, it's where I want to go. It's where my parents want me to go, it's where I think....
I reached for the crumpled piece of paper I'd stuffed into my jean pockets, and skimmed through it. "...And thus the Canadian army, in cooperation with the United States, looks for young magicians like you to join the battle against foreign threats. You will be able to stay in your city, but you must notify even your closest..."
I guess I could give them a call.
To be continued..?