Dear Jeff,

I covered for you.

I mean, I've been turning in your homework for you. With your name on it and everything. See, I couldn't sleep the night you left, so I thought it all out. I found a paper you left and I copied your handwriting. I even made sure to write down some wrong answers on my paper -- so they don't look the same, you see. My grade might drop a little, and I guess yours might too -- I'm not very good at science -- but I'll try my best.

I also told the headmaster your father was sick and you'd been called off to visit him. He asked why your handwriting looked weird, and I told him it was because you were upset. I mean, your dad's sick, right? It's stressful. Teachers don't want to be too strict if they feel sorry for you, you know? I don't know if he believed me...but it's not like they can call your dad, right? I mean, he lives way out by Stonehenge. I don't even know if they have phone service out there. You never tried to call him, anyway.

I hope I haven't made things worse -- I'm not very good at lying, but I talked to Maxwell, so he's helping me with your alibi. That's OK, right? I mean, he seemed to believe me. He has a drawer full of newspaper clippings -- did you know that? They're all about Stonehenge. UFO sightings. Cavemen. That sort of thing. I figured if he follows that sort of thing, he'd be likely to believe it when I told him the truth.

I wish you'd call me. I know you're doing something important, and it must be really busy, but I miss you. I really do.

We get the Eagleland paper in the common room, and I've been reading it. Downed UFOs, monster sightings, stuff like that...that's how I know where you are, you see. I can always tell, because something strange will happen and suddenly everything will be all right. Zombies go away, famous bands get out of trouble, and recently someone started selling cake again right after a UFO crashed on the  beach!

You didn't tell me where you were going, or why, but I think I know.

You're saving the world, aren't you?

Because that's just like you.

Yours always,
Tony