Kuyler Lang (1-2)

June 10, 1933


It was a night like any other in a city like no other. This city, my city, Chicago, can get under your skin like an annoying neighbor who plays music loudly til midnight. Except this neighbor runs 3 million strong and only plays Jazz. And only after midnight. This particular night the latest incarnation of my noisy neighbor showed up in the form of a gal named Summer Break. Just from the sound of the footsteps coming toward my office door I knew the type. Bright, a bit lazy, but warm and the type of person you can't ignore. At that moment I was in the middle of another rather lengthy lecture from my boss, Chief Detective School Year, when she knocked on the door of my office. He paused, looked at me, then shrugged and went to let her in. They nodded at each other cordially, if not a bit stiffly, and then, without trading words, they traded places in the faded office chair that had held so many like them for so many years. I let her sit there for a moment and kept scribbling on my files, just to make sure she really meant to stay. The silence was loaded like the nerf gun I kept in my jacket. It pounded on my ears like a second rate drummer in a third rate jazz ensemble. But at last she broke my noiseless reverie with a soft "ahem."

I looked up and realized Miss Summer didn't intend to go anywhere anytime soon... 

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Kuyler Lang, 

Grade 1-2