In this way he learned about the lost civilizations of Persia and about the wonders of the ancient world and the people who built them. And every path of research led him to forks that he would follow, until days had gone by and he realized he’d filled pages of a notebook with interesting facts and observations. Inevitably, some of these facts turned up later in his translations, giving him a sense of pride and accomplishment.

If only they would teach some of this in school. How much more interesting it would be.

But in the course of his research he also came across names and places that were remarkably difficult to learn more about. That’s where Mrs. Verrity came in. “No one can know everything, Henry. The secret of possessing knowledge lies in knowing where to look for it.” She had explained this to him on a rainy Saturday afternoon. He had been slumped over a table, frustrated by his Internet research, which was too often unreliable.

Mrs. Verrity worked alone, yet took the time to show Henry how to do research properly. And he soon found out that she was 100 percent right. He could find almost anything if he knew where to look for it—which included getting books on loan from other libraries around the state.

She had sent a postcard to Henry’s home, preferring the postal system to deliver a message over the phone system—or, heaven forbid, the Internet! He was informed in her peculiar, backward-slanted scrawl that the book on alchemy he’d requested had been delivered—which was why he was arriving as the library opened the following day.

Henry scanned the rest of the front door, noticing for the first time all of the other events that were posted. Some had been there for weeks—possibly months. And yet it took the one about the hypnotist to get his attention.

What was it he’d read one day? You never know what you need until you find it. At the time it didn’t make much sense. But suddenly it clicked. The unseen forces of the universe had conspired to bring him to precisely this place at precisely this time.

He was meant to go to the hypnotist’s show.

But by Sunday evening he was having second thoughts. It was possible the entire thing would be a waste of time. He had seen hypnotists on television. It always looked fake—like a staged performance. Getting someone to cluck like a chicken hardly seemed amazing. Any bully could accomplish a simple feat like that by waving a fist in your face instead of a shiny coin.

But what if this was the real thing? It could be the break he was waiting for in his never-ending battle with Billy Bodanski. What if Henry was able to turn the tables and have Billy do what he wanted for a change? It was an opportunity too good to pass up.