The Wikkeling (11 page)

Gary's backward glance was poorly timed. He did not see Clarice Sodje looming up before him, right in the middle of her eighth, or maybe ninth, jumping jack. Gary and Clarice were two of the larger kids in the class, and their impact was considerable. Clarice was mid-jump when they collided, and she and Gary crashed to the padded floor in a grand sprawl. Henrietta was right behind, and there was no time for her to stop. She tripped over them both and went flying right into the soft, unprepared stomach of Mr. Safety.

Weeeeeeeeeeeh!
shrilled the whistle as she and Mr. Safety tumbled backwards. Mister Safety landed squarely on his back and expelled the remainder of his breath in a rush that popped the whistle from his mouth. It shot to the limit of its lanyard and snapped back, smacking him in the eye. “Weeeeeeeeeeeh!” went the sound again—but it wasn't the whistle this time. It was Mr. Safety himself, and this final falsetto cry was followed by a series of agonized gasps as he struggled for the breath that had been knocked out of him.

Henrietta landed to the side and scrambled forward, looking back to check on Gary, who had now untangled himself from Clarice and was gaining his feet.

“TEN!” said the few members of class who'd managed to keep count during the fracas.

“Gary! Wait!” said Henrietta. Her glance back had revealed that the creature was no longer pursuing them. It was gone—vanished.

Gary turned around, searching. “It must be somewhere,” he said, eyes darting this way and that. “Oh, wow, it was . . . that was . . .
the thing
! The one I saw when you got your headache!”

There was no opportunity for further discussion. Ms. Span, who had just called the nurse's office to order some medical assistance for Mr. Safety (who lay splayed and gasping on the ground, both hands covering his injured eye), returned her phone to her pocket and grabbed both Henrietta and Gary by the ears.

“We are returning to our classroom,
now
!” she barked at the class. “Line up and follow!” She dragged Henrietta and Gary with her into the hallway, the class obediently following, tittering animatedly at how exciting it had all been, and what ridiculous weirdos Henrietta and Gary were.

Gary's plan was now, for better or worse, in motion: they'd earned the detention they'd wanted.

At the close of the school day, as the rest of the students filed out to the buses after completing their final typing practice on the subject of autumn (“I
WILL NOT JUMP IN A PILE OF LEAVES
”), Henrietta and Gary stayed in their seats. Gary winked conspiratorially at Henrietta, who tried to wink back and surprised herself by succeeding.

“Henrietta and Gary, you will spend your detention today sitting quietly and regretting your behavior,” said Ms. Span from the front. “Did you know that our class ranked in the thirtieth systemwide percentile today in no small part because of your disobedience?”

“We're sorry,” they said in unison.

“Say it to yourselves, not to me,” said Ms. Span.

Time crawled by. Ms. Span worked at her computer up front, putting together her materials for the following day. Once the buses had left, Gary gave Henrietta a significant look. Then he turned to the front of the room and said, loudly, “Mom?”

Henrietta's eyes widened. Ms. Span looked up, but didn't remove her glasses—obviously surprised. She squinted at Gary, and then at Henrietta, and then at Gary again.

“Yes, Gary?” she said evenly.

“Can we give Henrietta a ride home? Because she missed her bus, and, you know, we live right across the street from her.”

Ms. Span removed her glasses. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I don't know her parents at all. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings.”

Henrietta was dumbstruck, observing for the first time that Gary and Ms. Span had the exact same thick, black eyebrows that met in the middle.

“We could call her parents and ask,” said Gary.

This, then, was it: Gary's plan. Henrietta saw that for it to succeed, she'd have to help.

“My mom would appreciate it,” she said. “She's probably working on dinner
right now. I can give you my number.” Henrietta reached into her pocket for her phone.

“It's already in the school network,” said Ms. Span. Without another word, she dialed Henrietta's house. “Hello. Is this Mrs. Gad-Fly?” she said. “Yes, that's right. Henrietta's teacher. My son and your daughter are both here for detention today due to some regretful misbehavior,” here she paused to glare out across the room at the two of them, “and they've missed their bus. Would it be convenient for you if I gave Henrietta a ride home? Gary has just pointed out that we live across the street from you.” There was a long pause. “Twenty minutes. It will be nice to meet you, too.” Ms. Span pocketed the phone and stood from her terminal. “We'd best get going.”

“Great!” said Gary. He looked at Henrietta and waggled his eyebrows. The two of them stepped into the hall while Ms. Span gathered her things.

“She's your
mom
?” Henrietta whispered.

“Yeah,” said Gary. “No one knows, so don't tell.” Their whispered voices echoed in the empty hallway, bouncing off the giant mural image of happy children below the words “S
ENSIBLE
, E
FFICIENT
, E
DUCATION
(S.E.E!)”

“I won't,” said Henrietta. She shook her head. “It's so weird.”

“To you, maybe,” said Gary.

Ms. Span emerged from the room and the three of them proceeded down the hall, following a yellow line on the floor through a set of doors and down a flight of stairs to the parking garage. “Henrietta, it will be interesting to meet your parents,” said Ms. Span. “I didn't know Gary had told you I was his mother. You two must be good friends.”

“We are,” said Henrietta.

“Because we sit together,” said Gary. “I've been helping Henrietta bring up her scores. We're best friends now.”

As they approached Ms. Span's car, a blue station wagon, a recorded voice issued from a speaker on the cement floor of the garage.

“T
HE SCHOOL DISTRICT IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY INJURY RECEIVED WHILE ENTERING, LEAVING, OR TRAVELING THROUGH THE PREMISES
.”

“Can Henrietta and I sit in the back?” said Gary, as Ms. Span unlocked the doors.

“Buckle all of your seat belts,” said Ms. Span. They fastened themselves into the rear seats. The engine started and the car's computer came online.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” it asked.

“Home for Henrietta Gad-Fly,” said Ms. Span.

“FOLLOW THE SIGNS TO THE LOT EXIT AND TURN LEFT.” Ms. Span navigated accordingly. “WHILE YOU DRIVE, WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR SOME ADVERTISEMENTS FOR PRODUCTS THAT MAY INTEREST YOU?”

“No,” said Ms. Span.

“THANK YOU,” said the car. “THIS THANK-YOU WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY MIRACLE MEDICAL'S EARHELPER. EARHELPER IS AN AUDIO REFINEMENT DEVICE THAT REDUCES TRAFFIC NOISE WHILE INCREASING VOICE CLARITY. EVER HAVE TROUBLE HEARING WHAT YOUR CAR IS SAYING WHILE YOU DRIVE? WITH EARHELPER, YOU'LL NEVER SAY ‘WHAT?' AGAIN.”

Ms. Span reached the parking lot exit and passed through the pay station.

“SEVENTY DOLLARS AND SIXTY-SEVEN CENTS HAS BEEN AUTOMATICALLY WITHDRAWN FROM YOUR ACCOUNT,” said the car. “THANK YOU FOR USING AUTODEDUCT. YOUR CONVENIENCE IS OUR
REWARD. TURN LEFT.”

“So, Henrietta,” said Ms. Span. “Which house do you live in?”

“The one with the peaked roof.”

“
Oh
,” said Ms. Span. She was silent for a few moments. “Is that . . . very old?”

“It's safe,” said Henrietta.

“But, your headaches,” said Mrs. Span. “You're getting House Sick, aren't you?”

“Nobody really knows for sure,” said Henrietta.

“Gary,” said Ms. Span, “I think you should wait in the car when we arrive. I'm worried your House Sickness might come back if you go in.”

“Oh, Mom,” said Gary, “I haven't had a headache in a long time. Can't I come in just for a minute?
Ple-ease
?” His
please
utilized a special tone that children have, which can crack almost any parental decree, and Ms. Span reluctantly assented.

They drove in silence for a while, Gary occasionally waggling his eyebrows at Henrietta to call attention to the perfect success of his plan.

When the car reached their block, Ms. Span turned left into Henrietta's driveway, and the engine stopped automatically. Henrietta and Gary extricated themselves from their seat belts and stepped onto the driveway with Ms. Span.

“I can't wait to show—” Henrietta began, but she stopped halfway through the sentence.

“What?” said Gary.

Henrietta pointed toward her roof. There were two dim squares near the top of the house where the siding was a slightly darker color.

“What are you looking at, Henrietta?” said Ms. Span.

Henrietta retracted her hand. “It's a different color,” she said. But what she was thinking was,
Where are the attic windows
?

They reached the front door, and Henrietta's mother opened it, wearing a bright yellow blouse and brown polyester slacks.

“Hi, Mom,” said Henrietta.

“Hi, honey,” she said, looking not at Henrietta, but at Ms. Span. “Hello, Ms. Span,” she said, holding out her hand. “I'm Aline, Henrietta's mother.”

“It's nice to meet you, Aline. Call me Margaret.”

“Please, come in,” said Henrietta's mother. Henrietta and Gary entered, and Ms. Span cautiously followed. They stepped into the sitting room, a space Henrietta and her parents didn't use much, though it contained some of their nicest furniture: a shiny vinyl couch, two chairs with faux-leather backs, and a long plastic table with legs shaped like columns of cell phones, which Henrietta's mother had bought for her father when he got his job at TinCan TeleComm. The table was empty but for a single glass vase that contained a fabric rose tastefully adorned with plastic dewdrops.

Ms. Span studied the room, especially the ceiling. “I don't think I've ever been in a house this old,” she said.

“Sorry,” said Henrietta's mother. “We're moving out soon.”

“Not until the end of the school year, though, right?” said Henrietta. Her mother had said this to visitors before, so Henrietta wasn't too alarmed by it, but she still felt the need to speak up.

Her mother smiled a little awkwardly. “No, of course not,” she said. In fact,
it was unlikely that they would move at all unless they could find someone to buy the place for more than it was worth.

“Gary and I used to live in a place almost this old,” said Ms. Span. “The city finally bought it from us and demolished it.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Henrietta's mother.

“Mom, can I show Gary my room?” said Henrietta.

“Of course, but Gary should ask his mother.”

“Can I, Mom?” said Gary.

“I worry you'll get House Sick,” said Ms. Span.

“Does Gary get House Sick?” said Henrietta's mother.

“He used to,” said Ms. Span, “until we moved.”

“
Ple-ease?
” said both children at once.

“W
hat was that thing?” said Gary, as soon as Henrietta shut the door. She shivered, recalling the ghastly, flicking creature.

“I don't know,” she said.

“And why
us
?” said Gary.

Henrietta shook her head. She took out her cell phone, thinking to look it up. “Search: Ugly yellow creature,” she said into it.

“THANK YOU FOR SEARCHING WITH TINCAN TELECOMM,” said a friendly, computerized woman's voice. “YOUR SEARCH FOR UGLY YELLOW CREATURE MAKES ME WONDER IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BUY SOME YELLOW RAIN BOOTS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BUY SOME YELLOW RAIN BOOTS?”

Henrietta hung up. She looked at Gary. “I don't know how much time we have before you have to go,” she said, “and there's something I have to show you, no matter what.” She went to her desk and pulled out her plastic chair. Her computer's counting program was running: 36,548. Henrietta looked twice at it. That was odd—that's where it was the last time she'd looked.