Read Brass Monkeys Online

Authors: Terry Caszatt

Brass Monkeys (26 page)

I turned slowly and looked at the dancing monkeys.

39
golden athlete of the wavy games

I smiled. This time they were forming patterns I could actually understand. I started down the alleyway toward the gym floor and the stage curtain. It was all very fascinating. I was seeing things I had never dreamed of. Strange and mysterious things … terribly sad and frightening things. My life was being revealed up there. Slowly I felt my smile disappear. I could see clearly what my life was going to be, now that I had tasted Ming’s classes—dark, empty, endless, and lonely unto death.

I walked out onto the wavy floor. My lips trembled as I pointed up at the flickering monkeys. “I see it all now,” I murmured. “I see the dark road ahead.” I paused. “Do you guys see it?”

I turned to look at the kids in the bleachers, but Ming was standing there. Like a striking snake, she had me by the neck.

“Surprising, amazing Eugene,” she hissed at me. “You’re quite a little imp, aren’t you? And more cunning than I gave you credit for.”

“You’re interrupting me,” I managed to gurgle out.

“Interrupting?” Her hand tightened on my windpipe.

“The monkeys,” I said, my voice a bare whisper. “My life …”

She laughed. “Your life? Your life is over.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know, I’ve always detested
trumpets.”
She slapped the horn from my hand.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “That’s my trumpet-hope.”

She really laughed loudly at this. “Your trumpet-hope? You ridiculous boy, you have no hope!”

She lifted me, and I felt myself being flung like a rag doll. I sailed for what seemed like a great distance and then came down on the wavy floor with a bone-jarring crunch. Nothing gets your attention faster than hitting the gym floor with your face, and the impact seemed to jar me out of my strange trance. I struggled to sit up, and when I did, the book tumbled out onto the floor.

“Finally!” Ming cried. “My heart’s desire—McGinty’s stupid little book!”

I stared at the book, then got to my knees. A tiny voice somewhere deep in my head said, “Pick it up, dummy. That’s the book you risked your neck for! You can’t just hand it over!” Quickly, I snatched it up.

“Give it to me, Eugene,” Ming sang out. She started slowly across the wavy floor, crooking a finger at me and crooning softly. “Don’t move … It’s mine now.”

“No,” I mumbled. I staggered upright. “This book is my … mission.”

“Bosh! It’s not your mission at all! Look up at the monkeys, Eugene! Look!”

She came at me in a rapid scuttling manner, her feet catlike on the humpy floor. I gave out a yelp and started running, but the waves completely threw me off. I stubbed my toe and went sprawling. I scrambled to my feet, the book still clutched in my hand. I expected Ming to grab me quickly, but nothing happened. I whirled around. Where was she?

“I’m over here, Eugene,” she called out. “My goodness, you were going the wrong way.” She came out of the shadows by the stage, tossing something up and down in her hands. A basketball? No, it was a volleyball.

“Let’s play a little Bashball, shall we?” Ming laughed at my expression. “I get a point every time I hit a part of your body. Ten points and I win! But if I get lucky and hit you in the head, the game is immediately over and I get the book!”

“No!” I said. Panic seized me, and I began running blindly toward the far end of the gym. But I hadn’t gone twenty feet before the volleyball streaked toward me like a rocket and hit me a crushing blow in the small of the back. With a cry I went to my knees and the ball bounded off into the darkness.

“I believe I scored a point,” crowed Ming. She went after the ball. I rose to my feet and the exit door swam into my vision. I started toward it in a dazed way. The ball came at me like a cannonball and smacked me painfully on the back of the leg. I stumbled, but kept going. For a second, I actually thought I was going to escape, but just as I was about to leave the wavy floor, the ball struck me in the back of the head with blinding ferocity. I landed with another bone-crunching thud, the book dribbling away.

“Game!” yelled Ming. “I win!” She came thumping toward me. “The book is mine.” She reached down and snapped it up. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it, Eugene?” She patted me on the head. “It’s all over now.”

She backed away and began thumbing through the pages. “This rag, this miserable piece of rubbish. How I’ve dreamed of this day …”

I pulled myself into a sitting position just as the volleyball came idling slowly along the humps. It stopped close to me, and I thought about picking it up, but I felt totally exhausted.

She slapped the book shut and glanced at me. “How a harmless little nitwit like you could lead me on such a chase …” She took a few steps toward me. “You, nothing more than a cipher, a tittle, a jot, hardly in the same league with some of the smart boys I’ve seen over the years.”

I felt a small, fierce flame ignite inside me. “I’m just as smart,” I said.

Ming smirked widely. “Oh my, no, I’m afraid not. After all, their mothers weren’t hairdressers, and they didn’t wear baseball caps in the winter!”

Looking back on it later, I realized it was that remark about Mom that really pushed my buttons. The small flame inside me blossomed into a hot anger, and without thinking, I said, “And you’re Little Monkey, too.”

The smirk disappeared. Ming put the book down on the floor. “No,” she said,
“You’re
Little Monkey.” She came quickly toward me, her big hands outstretched.

I scrambled to the ball and picked it up. Then, with my last ounce of energy, I brought my arm around like a slingshot, and fired the ball straight at her.

It didn’t have far to travel before it struck her full in the face. With a shriek you could have heard all the way to Shanghai, she jammed a hand to her mouth.

“My tooth!” I heard her say. She staggered away a few steps, gasping and moaning. “You knocked my tooth out!”

She glared at me, and I saw a shocking bloody gap in her upper row. A front tooth!

She dropped to her knees and began searching for it. “You miserable little …”

I scrambled to my feet, darted over, and snatched up
Brass Monkeys
. I don’t think she looked up until I had made it over to the trumpet and grabbed that.

“Come here, Eugene,” she wailed out. “You can’t go anywhere. You know that.” Her voice hardened. “Come here, you stubborn boy. This game is over!”

“You’re wrong, lady,” I snapped out. “This game isn’t over.” I turned and cupped a hand around my mouth and yelled,
“Alvin! Weeser! I’ll be back! I won’t leave you! I promise!”

I ran toward the exit door and, before I reached it, it flew open and Harriet and Ray stood there, looking frightened.

“What the heck are you doing?” Ray hissed, his eyes wide.

“We thought you were right behind us,” said Harriet.

They froze as they saw Ming. She wobbled toward us, her mouth crimson with blood. “Come to me, Eugene.” Her face contorted with rage, and she shrilled out, “You’re too cowardly for this game! We all know that!”

“Run!” I cried to Harriet and Ray. They didn’t hesitate, and in a flash we were out the door, running straight into a twilight world. It took me a few seconds to realize the huge overhead lights were dimmed and this was “night.”

Ray led the way toward the big sand hill, the one he and I had hidden behind earlier in the day, and we didn’t stop running until we’d skidded around the base and plopped onto the sand. When I sat up, I was amazed to see Ray’s Hru-tu-du parked there, casting a shadow on the sand.

“Brought my friend,” Ray said proudly. “I had to do a little work on her after the explosion, but she’s good to go. I got her rigged for dual peddling, so hop in.”

We started to get in, but with a jolt we were stopped by the faint sound of … bells. Ray dodged back to get a look. In a flash, he rejoined us.

“She’s coming,” said Ray, grimly, “with all her buddies. And they’ve got lights.”

We leaped into the cart with Ray, and I at the pedals and Harriet in back.

Ray flashed me a look. “Which way, Bumpus-man? Your call.”

I was aware of their questioning gaze. I knew they’d wondered about my strange behavior back at the school. I knew also they’d heard Ming shriek out the bit about me being a coward. But the darkness, the pit that had seemed so likely to swallow me only minutes ago, had somehow vanished.

“There’s only one way to find McGinty now,” I said. “Down the Cliffs of Notes.”

There was a tiny pause, then Harriet bent toward me and kissed me on the ear.

Ray grinned heavenward. “Oh, man,” he said, “ain’t we having fun.”

We leaned into the pedals and slowly, then faster and faster, the Hru-tu-du began moving across the sand.

40
the great janitor dumps our scribbles here

We pedaled like madmen for at least ten or fifteen minutes, until finally Harriet sang out, “I can’t see their lights anymore.”

“Great,” said Ray, “but keep your eyes peeled for Devos. For sure old Ming-daddy will have him on the hunt.”

Ray kept steering us down to the flatter parts of the desert where the Stormies drove their trucks and motorcycles. The sand was packed hard, and we could really make the Hru-tu-du sing.

“Are we headed toward the cliffs?” I gasped out. The pounding Ming had given me was starting to take its toll. My back and legs felt like they were on fire.

“Absoltootly we are,” Ray said. “Well, sort of anyway. We’re headed a little more south so we can pick up a big old coil of rope I’ve got hidden.”

“Rope?” I said. “What for?”

“Duwang.” Ray shook his head at my ignorance. “You need rope to climb down the cliffs, man. Unless you plan on jumping down them.”

I laughed. “Rope’s good.”

Ray went on, “I got it off the discard pile about two months ago. Figured I might need it sometime, and I guess old Aunt Petunia was right.”

Just then there was a loud zapping sound, and the huge bank of overhead lights came on.

“Uh-oh,” said Ray.

He steered the Hru-tu-du into a thick clump of cactus, and we came to a stop.

Ray looked pale. “Ming-daddy turned on the lights so Devos can spot us from the air. We’d better get under cover.”

We jumped out quickly, and a sharp pain shot up my back. I grabbed on to the Hru-tu-du to steady myself.

Harriet flashed me a worried look. “What is it, Eugene?”

“My back,” I said. I tried to make a joke out of it. “I hurt it when Ming and I were playing dodgeball.”

Ray was hauling out the camouflage, but when he heard this he stopped and his eyes widened with wonder. “She went after you with the volleyball? Oh man, I heard talk about that. It’s supposed to be like doomsville.”

“She nailed me pretty good,” I admitted. “But I got her back, right at the end.” Quickly, I told them about her tooth.

“Whoa,” said Ray. “A front tooth? You are one hairy boy, Bumpus-man.”

Harriet’s eyes glowed. “It took a lot of courage to fight back like that.”

“Not really,” I said lamely. I knew it was more anger than bravery that had made me strike back. I tried to change the subject by pulling up my shirt and checking the damage.

“Oh my gosh,” said Harriet. “You’ve got a big bruise right here … and there’s a huge red mark on your neck.” She gasped. “And there’s something else.”

“What?” I turned and looked at her. Harriet hesitated, but Ray blurted it out.

“Man, you can see your Amberlight spot! Plain as anything. It’s gathering just like it’s done on all of us. I’m guessing it was her classes that did it and then the dodgeball game. I heard she uses that in stubborn cases—the fear sort of drives your last hopes into a corner.”

For some reason, this discovery terrified me more than anything else that had happened. In a panic, I ran my hand behind my ear, but I couldn’t feel a thing.

“Listen, you’re fine,” Harriet began. “It’s not very big, so don’t worry.”

At that moment we heard a loud electrical
zerrrap!
and the overhead lights went off.

“Okay, what’s this?” whispered Ray nervously. Now he snapped his fingers. “Waitaminnit, I know what happened. She can’t run the lights any longer, ‘cause she doesn’t have enough fuel to fire the generators. See, she and the Storm boys only keep enough wood ahead to fire up the boilers for one day. She simply ran out of fuel.” He began putting away the camouflage cloth. “Let’s get moving!”

We headed quickly for the cart. I started to take my position at the pedals, but Harriet stopped me with a warm, clear look.

“Listen,” she began, “I’m sorry I didn’t understand what was going on with you back there.” She drew in a breath. “I was a bit dazed myself—that’s my only excuse. I should have known Ming had hurt you in some special way.”

I nodded. “I think she tried, but I feel okay now.” I grinned. “Hey, I’m ready to wrestle Ming at noon hour. Lead the way to battle.”

Ray laughed at this. “Looks like the old Bumpus-man is back.”

“I’ll pedal for awhile,” Harriet said. “You rest. If we go down the cliffs, you’re going to need all your strength.”

“For sure,” I said. My legs and arms felt weak and trembly. Gratefully, I let Harriet take the pedal position and I climbed in back.

In a few seconds the Hru-tu-du was up to full speed again.

“It’s less than a mile to where I got the rope hid,” Ray called out. “We’ll get it, then head east to the cliffs. That’s the long part and it’ll take most of the night.”

That turned out to be exactly the case. We got to the rope, dug it up, and packed it in quickly. After that, our journey seemed to stretch forever. Harriet and I traded places several times, and each time I felt a bit stronger.

Harriet was back at the pedal station with Ray, and I was dozing fitfully when we thumped over something.

“A notebook,” Ray called out in a low voice. “And more coming.”

I sat up and looked ahead. The sand was littered with notebooks, both three-ring and spiral. A hundred yards beyond that was an ocean of white paper.

Ray turned and said, “We’re coming up on the western end of the cliffs. They run east and west for about five miles, but I’ve only seen this end of them.”

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