MVP*: Magellan Voyage Project:                 

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Part I
North America
“Home is where the battle lies.”

.....Madam, I’m Adam. I’m twelve years, three months, and twenty-four days old. But this story starts on May 1, my birthday, when I turned twelve. On that day my life changed.
.....I was sitting outside the After-School Club, surfing the Internet on a laptop when I heard footsteps behind me. Turning, I found a short, pudgy man with a flabby neck standing there. He had black hair, and wore a black turban with a huge black jewel set in the middle. The rest of his outfit was black as well, black pants, black silk shirt, and a black cape draped over his shoulders.
..... “Who wears a cape nowadays?” I asked myself. “Other than magicians, superheroes, and Dracula.”
.....The After-School Club building was one of those trailer classrooms that stood on the edge of the playground. I went there every day until my mother, who worked at the middle school, could pick me up. On my birthday, Mom was running late. I was the only student left, the only witness to this odd visitor.
.....The man was all nods and grins as he sat at the picnic table. He stared at me with inky black eyes that never blinked. His large neck gave him two chins, the top one rimmed with a thin black beard.
.....“Happy birthday, Adam Story,” he began. His English accent reminded me of actors on educational TV. “It’s certainly good to meet you at last. Today you’re twelve and today we have certain important issues, certain urgent topics to discuss. This is an historic day, Adam Story. That’s for certain.”
.....Usually, I avoided talking to strangers, and this man sure seemed strange. Without a word, I began poking the keys on my laptop.

.....The man reached inside his cape. His hand came out cradling a long, slender animal with a pointed face. Its fur matched the color of a dry playground. The creature’s pinpoint eyes ogled me like its master’s. Its wide mouth held a slip of paper, a school visitor pass.
.....“Is that a weasel?” I asked.
.....The man stroked the creature. “Certainly not. Meet Marco Polo, my mongoose. He’s showing you that we’re official visitors at your school. Your principal was certain you’d be out here.”
.....The mongoose turned, scurried up the man’s arm, and sat on his right shoulder. Its dot eyes never left me.
.....“Who are you? What do you want?” I asked, fearing that the man was another school counselor eager to know why I never spoke in class, why I never joined in playground games, or why I spent so much time alone at the classroom computer.
Except this man didn’t look like a school district employee. He didn’t look like anyone who lived near this suburb.
.....The visitor snapped his fingers. The mongoose sprang off his shoulder and dove into the cape pocket. It reappeared biting on a business card. The card showed a logo of a wooden sailing ship with the letters MVP printed across it.

Prince Olioli Oh XL
Producer, Magellan Voyage Project

.....The look on my face betrayed my doubt.
.....“Yes, Adam Story,” the man said. “As certain as homework I’m a real prince.”
.....“Why does it say you’re XL, extra large?”
.....“I’m Prince Oh, the fortieth. I come from a long line of royalty, an ancient dynasty that ruled over the kingdom of Babababad.”
.....“Babababad? There’s no such place,” I said, convinced from my web surfing that I knew all one hundred and ninety-six countries and kingdoms in the world.
.....“To be certain, my domain no longer exists,” the prince said. “Centuries ago, a cruel conqueror, Gunter the Hunter, captured Babababad and made it part of his empire. Two centuries later, a European power invaded the empire and turned Babababad into a colony. Three centuries after that, an evil dictator took over the colony, and, a century onward, civil wars split it into twenty small republics. Throughout the twentieth century, Bababada continued to shrink from takeovers and land deals, until one day a crew simply paved it over for a parking lot. Indeed, Adam Story, although my kingdom can’t be found on certain maps, you can be certain that my royal title has been passed down to me for forty generations.”
.....I reread the business card. Last October, my fifth-grade class learned about Ferdinand Magellan, the explorer who led the first fleet of ships that circled the world. But what did Ferdinand have to do with a prince being at my school?
.....“What’s the Magellan Voyage Project?” I asked
.....The man folded his hands on the tabletop. He wore three silver rings bearing gems as big as the one on his turban.
.....“For the past year, I’ve traveled the world on behalf of a certain organization called LORD, the League of Royalty without Domains,” he said. “I’ve searched the earth for a certain twelve-year old boy or girl to join my project, the MVP. I’ve investigated thousands of youth on every continent. The ideal candidate is someone who has excellent knowledge of the world, someone who is brave but not foolhardy, cunning but not cruel, and cuts a unique path, without wandering too far. Most importantly, Adam Story, I’ve searched for a twelve-year old who can stand being alone without being lonely. I’m certain that I’ve finally found a youth who fits that description. You, Adam Story. You are the certain twelve-year old”
.....I screwed up my face again.

......“Certain for what?” I asked. “How do you know anything about me?”
Prince Oh turned his head. He appeared to share a knowing nod with the mongoose on his shoulder.
.....“For many months, MVP has monitored your computer activity, Adam Story,” he said. “We know about the geography and travel web sites you visited. We accessed your library use, and know that every book you checked out was about explorers or adventures. We viewed what videos you rented at the video store and the magazines you bought at 7-Eleven. From the school computer we learned that your mother is employed as a cook in the middle school cafeteria. That’s why you can attend schools in this upper-class suburb, even though you live in another town where the schools aren’t so good. We also know that your grades at this school are outstanding, although you’ve had a tough time making friends.”
.....“So what of it?” I said. “You have no right to hack into my life.”
Marco Polo left the prince’s one shoulder, scurried around his turban, and perched on the other side.
.....“I’m here to offer you a challenge, Adam Story, a MVP birthday challenge, if you will,” Prince Oh said, his black eyes sparkling. “We know you long for travel and yearn for adventure. Well, Adam, my challenge is one of the greatest travel adventures ever offered to a twelve-year old boy. That’s for certain.”

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