Brass Monkeys (37 page)

Jack shook his head at me in wonder. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He glanced over at Lilah, and again something happened—just a split-second something between them—and whatever it was, that did it.

“Why not,” Jack said, grinning. “It fits right in with all the other crazy stuff.”

At that, Haggerty gestured at the instruments strewn about. “Then pick your favorite,” he cried. “Let’s practice!”

That’s how I spent my second night in the underworld. Last blink came very soon, but we went doggedly onward.

At first we sounded terrible. I guess part of the reason had to do with our instrument selection. Jack was on piano and Lilah, who could play several instruments, settled on the cello. Harriet was on the clarinet and Teddy sawed away on the violin, while Haggerty played a big old tuba. Naturally Ray was on sax and I tooted away on the trumpet. As Jack put it, we sounded like the “worst oompah band” in the world. I said I thought we needed a director.

That’s when Teddy suggested Lilah. Haggerty hemmed and hawed at this, and even Jack seemed doubtful.

“Why the heck don’t you just give her a chance?” Ray finally yelled out.

“I suppose we could do that,” said Haggerty, stiffly. “No need to yell.”

Lilah picked up a pencil and smiled at us. “Right from the top,” she said. “And let’s pick up the tempo, especially in the lower brass.”

Haggerty stiffened at that and said “Hmm,” in a grumbling way.

Lilah lifted the pencil, then gave us the downbeat. Like magic, things smoothed out. I’m not saying we sounded great, but suddenly the music had power and we were certainly enthusiastic.

“It sounds wonderful,” cried Haggerty. “So vigorous and robust.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow at me. “Vigorous and robust? Hey, just what we need to knock down those ten-ton doors on Mingley’s school.”

We must have practiced for hours. Finally Haggerty called a break and suggested we get some sleep. That got no argument from anyone. Harriet and I curled up by the fireplace, and it seemed I had just shut my eyes when Jack began shaking me awake.

“Mom, is it time for school?” I asked groggily.

Jack laughed. “Yeah, in a way you could say it’s time. But I’m not Mom.”

A few minutes later I joined the others at the breakfast table for hot cocoa and toast. “All courtesy of Mingley’s stacks of stolen goods,” cried Haggerty. “She and her Stormie fools steal from cafeterias across the country, then haul it down here. To survive, I’m forced now and then to … well, borrow things.”

While we ate, I noticed a detail I had missed the night before. The door to the library was open, and on the back of it, hanging from a peg, was a white sport coat.

“McGinty’s coat, right?” I asked Haggerty, pointing it out.

“Yes, my boy, indeed it is. The badge of honor. And that makes me think. According to what I’ve been told about it, Adjana always puts the name of the next McGinty in the pocket of the coat. But since John died so far from the Grotto, I’m sure that won’t hold true now.”

Harriet frowned thoughtfully. “But maybe we should check it anyway. It’s all very mysterious.”

“Let’s look,” Lilah added. “I’m curious. And there’s something very strange about the coat. Don’t you think?”

She gave Jack a look and he kind of nodded in an uneasy way. You could see that he liked her a lot and was struggling to put aside his attitude.

“I guess you could say strange,” Jack began, but then this came out. “But a
white
sport coat! I can’t imagine any teacher wearing something like that in the classroom. The kids would laugh him out of town.”

“Well, holy crow,” piped up Ray, “why don’t we look in the pockets? I’m getting kind of curious myself.” He turned to Haggerty. “Is it all right to do that?”

“Of course,” said Haggerty. “By all means, check the coat.”

Ray went over to it and checked the outside pockets first. “Nuttin,” he said. He rummaged in the inside ones. “Big nuttin,” he added with a grin. “No, wait! Here’s something.” He pulled out a slip of paper. “Yahoo, got some writing on it, too. It says …” He looked over at Jack. “It’s got your name on it.”

“What?” Jack looked dumbfounded. “Don’t joke around, Ray. Give me that. It probably says ‘Dry Clean Only’!” Ray handed the slip to him.

Jack looked at it and grew pale. “There’s got to be a mistake here.” He stared at us. “Someone put this in the coat, right? Haggerty?”

Haggerty looked indignant. “Not on your life! I would never presume to do such a thing! Entirely out of character.”

Jack looked around at us. “It’s a mistake,” he said. “Has to be.”

“I don’t think it is,” said Lilah.

“Me neither.” Harriet gave Jack a level look. “I think it has to be you.”

Jack blinked, then ran a hand through his blond hair. “It’s not me.

And we don’t have time for this. We’ve got to get loaded and head for the school.”

He turned abruptly and went outside. The rest of us quietly gathered up our instruments and started loading Haggerty’s sleigh. Finally, Jack came back to help us load a small piano, but he was silent and didn’t say a word to any of us. It took a few more minutes for the goats to be harnessed to the sleigh, and one in particular kept kicking and wouldn’t get into position.

While this was going on, Jack turned to us abruptly and said, “I’m not the person for the job! I’m not leading anyone anywhere!” He was breathing hard. “So I’m not putting on any stupid coat. And that’s the end of that!”

None of us said a word. I knew Lilah wanted to because I saw her look away, her eyes tearing up. I opened my mouth, but then closed it. I was smart enough to know you couldn’t force someone to be McGinty. It had to come from the heart.

Finally Haggerty had the last goat in place and we were ready to go. We all piled into the sled and Haggerty jumped up on the driver’s seat. He raised his whip and was about to crack it when we heard the singing. It seemed to be coming from a great distance.

“It’s the kids in Mingley’s school,” said Haggerty. “She’s getting ready to put them through the horror of the Amberlight thing. The poor things are forced to sing that song about an hour before she starts.”

Harriet looked at Haggerty. “Can we get there in time to save them?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure. We’ll try certainly.”

“We have to do more than try,” Jack suddenly burst out. “We have to stop her.” He stood up in the sleigh, looked skyward in a distracted way, then jumped down and ran into the house. When he came out he was wearing the white sport coat.

You might have thought we’d cheer like crazy, but no one made a peep. I think we all felt the seriousness of the moment: Jack had made a huge life decision, and certainly the danger of dying young was part of it. Especially if Ming had anything to say about it.

Jack jumped in without meeting anyone’s eyes. “Let’s roll,” he said.

That was the Jack Hastings I had waited so long for, and a surge of golden confidence flared through me. “Let the Wild Bunch ride!” I cried out.

Haggerty cracked his whip right on my last word. The goats sprang forward in their harnesses, and slowly but steadily the sleigh began moving across the snow. I felt a pang of frustration as I thought about going at this slow pace back across the valley of paperbacks, but that disappeared in a flash as Haggerty turned to the left and we swept downward in a sickening rush.

Everyone was yelling and screeching in fear as we thundered down the mountainside. I could hear Haggerty bellowing to the goats and it took me awhile to realize that he was simply excited and happy. For most of that early part of the trip down, I just shut my eyes and held on tight.

We slowed a bit when the goats crossed the snowline and we hit the first of the bare books and magazines. I thought this marked the end of the scary part, but I was wrong. Haggerty managed to find a trail down through the books that made the first run look like a trip down a kiddie slide.

“You fool!” I heard Jack bellow out. “Slow down!”

“We’re going to diiiiie!” Teddy’s scream trailed back like smoke on the wind.

Someplace along that last section of mountain, Harriet’s hand found mine and we held on tightly to each other the rest of the way. After a hair-raising jump over a ledge of books, we crunched in for a landing on the desert floor.

When we hit the sand, the sleigh slowed to a groaning crawl. The goats objected to the weight and gave out a collective bellow of irritation.

Haggerty quickly pulled a lever and down came wheels that had been tucked under the sleigh. The ride smoothed out quickly and the goats began picking up speed. We went on like this for what seemed like forever.

I lost track of time, and I was shocked when we rounded a small dune and there in the distance, waiting like a shadowy beast, stood Ming’s awful school. Haggerty brought us to a stop, and everyone stood up to get a better view. Several Stormie trucks were parked out front, but there was no sign of movement and the whole place was as quiet as a tomb.

“Holy Crow,” muttered Ray. “I can’t believe I came back here.”

“Shouldn’t we stop and think of some kind of plan?” asked Teddy, nervously.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Haggerty. “We have to strike quickly.” He raised the whip and cracked it loudly. “On, boys!” he thundered.

The goats lunged ahead and we went rolling faster and faster toward the monstrous building. When we careened around a second hillock, we couldn’t have been more than fifty yards from the front entrance.

“Get your instruments up and ready!” shouted Haggerty. He didn’t have to tell us, because we were scrabbling wildly to do just that. A piece of music flew past, and I grabbed it and handed it back to Harriet. At the last second, Haggerty turned the sled and we slowed to a stop not thirty yards from the front steps.

Lilah had moved to the front of the sleigh and was clapping her hands, trying to get our attention, when the big doors groaned open. Ming stood in the dim light of the hall, her pale blue eyes staring at us.

We should have started playing right then. Instead, we simply sat there, peering at her like frightened sheep. Strobe appeared behind her, his face looking as pimply as ever, then Fundabore joined them. All three carried big ugly eraser guns. Ming was smiling, and I realized the bright outside light was making it hard to see us clearly.

“What do we have here?” she called out. “A traveling circus group? A gypsy band? Rag pickers perhaps, come to seek shelter?”

Her smile began to fade. “Wait, I see who you are! Jack Hastings, Lilah Corbett …” Now she spotted me, and that awful vein on her forehead darkened and began to expand. “
You.”

That’s when Lilah gave us the downbeat. The problem was, only Jack and Harriet actually started playing. The rest of us were still staring, lost in fear. Now Haggerty started oompahing away, Ray finally came wailing in on his sax, and I sputtered around, hitting some wrong notes.

We must have been the worst-sounding band in the universe. The great music in “Unicorns” was totally lost as we honked and squealed. Above the racket I heard Ming, Strobe, and Fundabore burst into laughter. That’s when Lilah grabbed up the cello and started playing, trying desperately to get us together.

Luckily, Ray and I found the right place and I heard Lilah say in that high, even-pitched voice, “Go back and repeat the opening!” Following her, we did. This time we were together, and it didn’t sound bad.

Ming, Strobe, and Fundabore stopped laughing. They stood there, still amused, but looking a bit more unsure. When we rocked into the Spanish-sounding part of the opening, I saw Ming actually take a step backward. Strobe and Fundabore quickly clamped their hands over their ears. Ming rushed over and began pressing an alarm button, and I heard a yowling siren start up.

When she came back, she started punching Strobe and Fundabore, urging them to charge. I could tell they didn’t want to take their hands away from their ears. Ming began kicking them, and reluctantly they grasped their guns.

“Watch out!” I yelled.

Strobe and Fundabore let loose a barrage of erasers, and I heard the scary
thwwut thwwut
sound as they flew by. Instinctively we played louder, and those two stopped shooting and again clamped their hands over their ears.

Ming bellowed in rage, lifted her own gun, and began firing. Erasers slapped loudly against the side of the sleigh and one made a loud
twinng!
as it glanced off the side of Ray’s sax. To his credit, he went right on playing. Lilah and Teddy crouched behind the meager shelter of Jack’s small piano while Haggerty, the bravest of us all, went on oompahing from the front seat of the sleigh.

Strobe and Fundabore were screaming in pain and holding their ears, but Ming came down off the steps and started straight for us, firing as she came.

“Play!” cried Lilah. “Play for your lives!”

And brother did we ever, or at least we tried. We actually reached the wild tango part of the piece and I thought that would stop Ming, but she kept coming. She couldn’t have been five yards away when she hit Haggerty right in the face. The poor old guy groaned loudly, then fell backward to the ground.

The goats let loose with a loud
behhhh!
and lunged forward, throwing Jack off his feet. Ming screeched like a banshee, and for a moment I thought we were goners, but the rest of us kept playing loudly and she couldn’t take it.

With a horrible cry of rage, she retreated, trying desperately to shield her ears. That’s when the other Stormies came rumbling outside, their guttural voices rising with fury. The music must have pained them terribly, but they began shooting wildly at us.

Several erasers bounced off Teddy’s chest and head and Lilah screamed when he fell forward, his violin flying into the sand.

“Keep playing!” shouted Jack. He was still pounding the keyboard hard, his jaw clenched. I blasted as loudly as I could, and I knew Harriet and Ray were doing the same, but we were losing the battle and I think we all knew it. Lilah was bent over Teddy, trying to see how badly he was hurt, when she was struck on the shoulder, then the cheek. She sank down without a word, her eyes still open.