The man peered at the mushrooms with his magnifying glass, his cloak tossing behind him in the breeze. “Hmmm. An eruption of mushrooms can mean only one thing.”
“That it rained yesterday?” asked the boy.
“Of course not. It means dragons, or faeries, possibly a goblin.”
The boy crossed his arms. “What kind of a detective are you?”
The detective straightened, pocketed his magnifying glass, and winked. “The very best kind.”
“What do you suppose is on the other side of that door?”
She thought it over. “May
be a wizard who can shrink down to any size, or a fairy taking a bath. I bet they like bubble baths. Or even a unicorn, polishing his hooves for a parade. Maybe even a goblin, making up some sort of mean potion to get back at the school bully.” She looked at her friend. “What do you think it is?”
Her friend blinked. “I was just thinking of cobwebs ‘n stuff.”
“Oh.”
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Jennifer Shelby 