Pirates of Underwhere (6 page)

Number concepts
: Three kids have twenty-four hours to save the world. If it takes them eight hours for sleeping, six hours for school, three hours for eating and going to the you-know-where, one hour for homework, and eight minutes for feeding the cat, at what time will they have to leave home?

We popped out of the tunnel to Underwhere and ran for our bikes. There was no time to waste.

So of course a time waster showed up.

Dr. Prufrock stepped from his rattletrap car. “Children! By Bacchus's bib, where have you been?”

“Gotta run,” I said, picking up my bike.

He stood in the driveway, blocking us. “But where's the, er”—he glanced over his shoulder—“
artifact
? Have you found it?”

“We had it,” said Hector, stabbing a thumb at Zeke, “until
he
lost it.”

“Hey,” said Zeke.

I shot them a meaningful look. “We've got to get
going
.”

“Where are you headed?” asked Dr. Prufrock.

“To find the—
ugh!
” Zeke stopped short. Probably because I elbowed him.

Just then, a long silver car pulled to a stop. Inside it sat the two government agents, Belly and Mole.

What
was
this, a time wasters' convention?

When Dr. Prufrock saw the men from H.U.S.H., he jumped and scrambled for his own car. They eyed him curiously.

“Let's
go
!” I hissed.

The spies were climbing out. “Where's our magical object?” said Agent Belly.

Pushing off, I steered my bike onto the sidewalk and pedaled down the street. I glanced back.

Zeke and Hector hadn't gotten away. Fine. They could sweet-talk the spies. I couldn't miss any more of Mathletes. I'd rather have twenty top-secret government agencies mad at me than face Mrs. Ricotta's disappointment.

 

As it turned out, I had to face it anyway. I made it to Mathletes practice only a half hour before the end. Mrs. R frowned, and half the team gave me dirty looks.

I flushed and sat down.

She
really
wasn't going to like it when I had to take a bathroom break in fifteen minutes to meet Zeke and Hector.

And she really,
really
wasn't going to like it when I told her I'd have to miss tomorrow's practice.

One thing at a time.

We did some speed drills adding and subtracting fractions. I aced them all. Then we moved on to geometry. When the time had come, I raised my hand.

“Mrs. Ricotta? May I go to the bathroom?”

She pursed her lips. “Now? Can't you wait?”

“It's really
urgent
,” I said.

Mrs. R wasn't even impressed by my new vocabulary word. She sighed. “Very well. Hurry back.”

Feeling like a traitor, I scooted out the door and down the hall. Zeke and Hector were waiting.

“Let's make this quick,” I said. “Where's Mr. Wheener?”

“Haven't seen him,” said Zeke.

We eased around the corner to the custodian's office. The door was closed. No light shone through the crack. Nobody walked the halls but us.

When we approached the office door, I had a
duh
moment.

“How do we get in without a key?” I asked.

Hector put a hand to the doorknob and turned it. “Like this,” he said.

We poked our heads into the darkened room.

“I'd feel a heckuva lot safer knowing where Mr. Wheener is,” said Zeke.

“Me too,” I said. We looked down the hall again.

Hector pointed. “Isn't that his broom, by the boys' bathroom?”

We sneaked down the corridor to check it out. As we drew nearer, I noticed the bathroom door was propped open with a bucket of soapy water.
A rough voice sang something that sounded a little like
My Favorite Things
:

“Weird,” whispered Zeke.

“But that's him, all right,” I whispered. “Come on.”

We rushed back to his office. Hector stood watch while Zeke and I turned on the light and looked around.

Push brooms and rakes leaned against the wall and sprawled on the floor. Dusty paint cans, old boots, and tubs of various cleansers sat here and there. Not like he ever
used
the cleansers. A half-cleaned brush drooled gold down the sink drain.
Cobwebs hung everywhere.

Yuck. I wouldn't hire Mr. Wheener to clean a hamster cage, much less a school.

“Over here,” said Zeke. On a shelf of crusty sponges, the Brush lay with some other toilet brushes. He picked it up.

“Hurry!” said Hector. “I think he's coming.”

Zeke stuffed the Brush under his T-shirt. I flipped off the light, and we eased the door shut.

Just in time. As we turned to walk away, something clattered behind us. Mr. Wheener's voice called, “You kids. Why you stay so late?”

I looked over my shoulder. “Um, we're Mathletes,” I said.

He barked a short laugh. “Then you better get practicing. Otherwise, maybe everything don't add up.” Mr. Wheener laughed again at his own joke.

I gave him a courtesy chuckle and hurried off with Hector and Zeke.

We parted just outside Mrs. Ricotta's classroom. “Now go straight home with that thing,” I said.

“We will,” said Zeke.

“And don't go rubbing it on anyone or showing it to anyone.”

“What do you think we are?” he said. “Stupid?”

Hector held up a hand. “Don't answer that.”

With no choice but to trust my brother, I shook my head and entered the classroom. Mrs. R said nothing, but she gave me a long look.

I sat down for the last few minutes of probability questions. But all I could think of was a probability question of my own.

How likely was it that Mrs. Ricotta would let me stay on the team when I told her I'd have to miss tomorrow's practice?

I knew the answer. And I didn't like it one bit.

After thinking it over, I decided to give Mrs. R my bad news the next day. Maybe after a good night's sleep, she wouldn't mind it so much.

Maybe.

What with homework, dinner, and dishes, we didn't have time to try out the Brush that night. But I made sure it was safe. I hid it in our parents' room, just in case Zeke had another attack of the dumbs.

As we left for school the next morning, I told Caitlyn, “Don't forget the town meeting tonight.”

“Yeah, about that dealie-o,” she said, putting
cereal away. “I'm, like, not a thousand percent sure I'm gonna motorvate over there with you midgets.”

“But you've
got
to!” said Zeke.

“I don't
have
to do diddley-whomp, you little dimweezil.”

I shot Zeke a laser look. “What he means is, we
really
want you to get a good grade in that class, and we know that your report on the meeting will help.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Zeke. “It'd be a shame if you had to stop babysitting us because of bad grades. You're our favorite cousin.”

Caitlyn's eyebrows lifted. But all she said was “If you zimwats want a ride, be on time or be, like, dead.” She gave us a wave. “Toodles!”

We headed out the door and down the driveway. “‘Favorite cousin'?” I said. “Think you were laying it on a little thick?”

“It's not too thick if she bought it. And she did.”

I rolled my eyes. “Lucky thing you use your powers for good instead of evil.”

 

At recess, I kept an eye on Mr. Wheener. Did he suspect we'd stolen back the Brush? It was hard to tell. He didn't act weird—well, no weirder than usual.

But bigger things occupied my mind. All through our lessons, I dreaded talking to Mrs. Ricotta about missing Mathletes.

I didn't get it. Helping the Undies was right; being in Mathletes was right. Why did I have to choose between the two rights, and why did it feel so wrong?

My stomach hurt. I barely ate any lunch.

Finally, the last bell rang, and everyone started packing up to go home.

“I'll see you Mathletes in ten minutes,” said Mrs. Ricotta.

Zeke gave me a look and went outside. I wiped my hands on my jeans.

“Um, Mrs. Ricotta?” I said.

“Yes?” She looked up from the papers on her desk.

“I know I said yesterday would be the only time I'd miss practice, but…”

Her face fell. “Oh, no. You're not planning to skip
another
one?”

I nodded.

“Stephanie, you disappoint me. I thought you were committed to the team.”

“I am,” I said. “But…I've got other commitments.
Family
commitments.”

She folded her hands. “Then I'm afraid you leave me no choice. Our first match is tomorrow. You can't miss today's practice and still be on the team.”

“But—,” I began, and stopped myself. “Whatever you think is fair.”

Mrs. Ricotta shook her head.

I bit my lip, and then turned and left the classroom.

Zeke was waiting outside. “Way to go, Steph!” he said, patting my shoulder. “I knew you'd do what's right.”

“Can you just not talk to me right now?” I said.

Heather gave me an accusing stare as I passed. I deserved it.

Zeke and I found Hector and hurried home. According to my calculations, we had just enough time to outwit the sea serpents, help the Undies take Port Heinie, make it back for the town meeting, and stop the UnderLord.

If all went well.

But the way my day was going, happy endings were the last thing I could count on.