The Labors of Hercules Beal

by Gary D. Schmidt

By midnight, we had gotten about half of the library books into Elijah’s living and dining rooms, and the second-story bedrooms, and even on the stairs. But there was almost all the technology to go, and the other half of the books, and the lab equipment, and the drawings from Jarrett Krosoczka and James Ransome and Floyd Cooper and the prints from Rembrandt and Calder and Dorothea Lange hanging on the walls, and the band instruments, and the desks and chairs, and the computers, and half a century’s worth of files, and the plants from the arboretum, and the tanks of saltwater fish from the South Hall, and the tanks of freshwater fish from the North Hall, and the mynah birds from the lobby, and all the reptiles, and the stuff from the photography studio, and the healthy food dispensers from the cafeteria, and Lieutenant Colonel Hupfer wanted to know if anyone had thought yet about his medals hanging beside his homeroom door.