Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians

kangaroos.
    At any rate, I most certainly should have called the police on this elderly intruder. He has been the main source of all my problems ever since. Unfortunately, I didn’t throw him out. Instead, I just watched him put away his yellow-tinted spectacles, retrieving the reddish-tinted ones again. Then he finally spotted the box on my dresser, scribbled-on brown paper still sitting beside it. The old man rushed over eagerly.
    Did he send it? I wondered.
    He reached into the box, taking out the note with an oddly reverent touch. He read it, smiling fondly, then looked up at me.
    “So, where is it?” Grandpa Smedry – or whoever he really was – asked.
    “Where is what?”
    “The inheritance, lad!”
    “In the box,” I said, pointing at the package.
    “There isn’t anything in here but the note.”
    “What?” I said, walking over. Indeed, the box was empty. The bag of sand was gone.
    “What did you do with it?” I asked.
    “With what?”
    “The bag of sand,” I said.
    The old man breathed out in awe. “So, it really came?” he whispered, eyes wide. “There was actually a bag of sand in this box?”
    I nodded slowly.
    “What color was the sand, lad?”
    “Um… sandy?”
    “Galloping Gemmells!” he exclaimed. “I’m too late! They must have gotten here before me. Quickly, lad. Who’s been in this room since you received the box?”
    “Nobody,” I said. By this point, as you can imagine, I was growing a little frustrated and increasingly confused. Not to mention hungry and still a bit tired. And a little sore from gym class the previous week – but that isn’t exactly all that relevant, is it?
    “Nobody?” the old man repeated. “Nobody else has been in this room?”
    “Nobody,” I snapped. “Nobody at all.” Except… I frowned. “Except Ms. Fletcher.”
    “Who is this Ms. Fletcher you keep mentioning, lad?”
    I shrugged. “My caseworker.”
    “What does she look like?”
    “Glasses,” I said. “Snobbish face. Usually has her hair in a bun.”
    “The glasses,” Grandpa Smedry said slowly. “Did they have… horn rims?”
    “Usually.”
    “Hyperventilating Hobbs!” he exclaimed. “A Librarian! Quickly, lad, we have to go! Get dressed; I’ll go steal some food from your foster parents!”
    “Wait!” I said, but the old man had already scrambled from the room, moving with a sudden urgency.
    I stood, dumbfounded.
    Ms. Fletcher? I thought. Take the inheritance? That’s stupid. Why would she want a silly bag of sand? I shook my head, uncertain what to make of all this. Finally, I just walked over to my dresser. Getting dressed, at least, seemed like a good idea. I threw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and my favorite green jacket.
    As I finished, Grandpa Smedry rushed back into the bedroom, carrying two of Roy’s extra briefcases. I noticed a leaf of lettuce sticking halfway out of one, while the other seemed to be leaking a bit of ketchup.
    “Here!” Grandpa Smedry said, handing me the lettuce briefcase. “I packed us lunches. No telling how long it will be before we can stop for food!”
    I raised the briefcase, frowning. “You packed lunches inside of briefcases?”
    “They’ll look less suspicious that way. We have to fit in! Now, let’s get moving. The Librarians could already be working on the sand.”
    “So?” I said.
    “So!” the old man exclaimed. “Lad, with those sands, the Librarians could destroy kingdoms, overthrow cultures, dominate the world! We need to get them back. We’ll have to strike quickly, and possibly at great peril to our lives. But that’s the Smedry way!”
    I lowered the briefcase. “If you say so.”
    “Before we leave, I need to know what our resources are. What’s your Talent, lad?”
    I frowned. “Talent?”
    “Yes,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Every Smedry has a Talent. What is yours?”
    “Uh… playing the oboe?”
    “This is no time for jokes, lad!” Grandpa Smedry said. “This is serious! If we don’t get that sand back…”
    “Well,” I said, sighing. “I’m pretty good at breaking things.”
    Grandpa Smedry froze.
    Maybe I shouldn’t play with the old man, I thought, feeling guilty. He may be a loon, but that’s no reason to make fun of him.
    “Breaking things?” Grandpa Smedry said, sounding awed. “So it’s true. Why such a Talent hasn’t been seen in centuries….”
    “Look,” I said, raising my hands. “I was just joking around. I didn’t mean –“
    “I knew it!” Grandpa