The Zucchini Warriors (11 page)

The crowd was much thinner for this, the Warriors’ third game, but Henry Carson had ordered up just as many zucchini sticks as for the previous contests. So there were already a good number of sticks under the bleachers before the opening kickoff.

Bruno was disgusted with the turnout. “Some school spirit!” he grumbled, looking up into the sparsely populated stands.

Boots shrugged it off. “If you had seen us play last week, would you come again? Besides, Scrimmage’s is all here.”

“To support Cathy!” snorted Bruno. “I’ll tell you. Boots, every guy who didn’t show up today should be barred from our rec hall when we get it.”

As the game began, it was obvious that this was a new Macdonald Hall team. The hours of practice and expert coaching were beginning to pay off. Certainly there were still mistakes, but Cathy continued to throw brilliantly, her pass defence to perform heroically, and the defence became stronger and tighter. At halftime, the score was tied, 14–14.

“Okay,” said Kevin Klapper excitedly in the dressing room. “Don’t panic. We aren’t winning, but we’ve got them playing
our
game. Now we go out and get some points.”

They did exactly that. Dave Jackson caught two touchdown passes in the third quarter, one on a long bomb pass, and the other after it bounced off Sidney Rampulsky’s helmet. Myron Blankenship ended his field goal drought, which gave Macdonald Hall a big lead going into the fourth quarter. But the Chiefs, a middle school team from Niagara Falls, weren’t ready to lie down and die so easily. They fought back with a vengeance. Macdonald Hall held on, and the last few minutes of play had Kevin Klapper, Henry Carson and Coach Flynn jumping up and down on the sidelines, screaming encouragement at the defence, who were being pounded on every play. Finally when the gun went off, the score was 31–27, Macdonald Hall.

ZICTORY
proclaimed the scoreboard.

* * *

Elmer spent the game in the clubhouse in the spare equipment room, taking notes and experimenting with his Manchurian bush hamsters. Suddenly Cathy burst in, cleats clattering. “Okay, Elmer, you’re on! Get in the shower, and by the time everyone else gets here, I’ll be out of your equipment and gone!”

Meekly Elmer nodded his assent and headed for the shower room.

“Hey,” called Cathy, “aren’t you going to ask how we did?”

“How?” rasped Elmer, his throat closing.

“We killed them,” she grinned. “Tell Mr. Klapper he’s a genius!”

So it was that when Mr. Carson led the jubilant team into the locker room, they found the quarterback’s uniform and equipment draped over a bench and Elmer, wrapped in a towel, just stepping out of the shower. The big ex-linebacker ran up to embrace him, but Elmer fled fearfully to the other side of the room.

“Drimsdale,” said Carson lovingly, “you’re one in a million!”

The celebration that night was even greater than it had been after game one. As Pete Anderson put it, “Let’s face it. The first game was kind of a fluke, and last week we got killed. Today we
really
won!”

Across the highway, Miss Scrimmage’s celebrated right along with them. Officially these were two separate parties, but that didn’t stop Cathy and Diane from raiding the entire dessert section of Miss Scrimmage’s kitchen and sneaking it across the road to Bruno and Boots’s room, where a number of boys were relaxing before lights-out.

The boys were eternally grateful. “Don’t forget we’re in the zucchini zone,” Wilbur reminded them, setting to work on a large slab of chocolate fudge cake. “This is great,” he added, his mouth full.

“It’s the least I can do for my teammates,” said Cathy grandly.

Diane looked around the room. Plates of zucchini sticks were piled on every available surface, including parts of the floor, in places stacked three or four high. She whistled. “How many orders of that stuff have you guys got?”

“With Hank the Tank, the sky’s the limit,” replied Bruno. “But don’t worry. In a couple of hours, all this’ll be gone. Who’s on zucchini disposal duty?”

“Sidney just took the last batch down,” Boots supplied.

“See?” said Bruno to the girls. “He should be back any minute. Then we send somebody else.” He indicated the zucchini plates with a sweeping gesture. “We’re looking at two, maybe two-and-a-half more hours here. Our bush hamsters could eat the Faculty Building and everybody in it.”

They waited, but Sidney did not come. Mark, Sidney’s roommate, was the first to become edgy. Boots was next, but soon even Bruno was alarmed by the amount of time Sidney had been gone.

“Maybe he just met some guys and he’s hanging out with them,” Diane suggested.

Bruno shook his head. “We’ve got to go find him.”

With Cathy and Diane following in the shadows, the boys marched out to the football stadium clubhouse. The door of the spare equipment room was open. Boots got there first and gawked. “Bruno! Look!”

The rest of the group ran up to the door and stared. The bush hamsters’ cage was mangled beyond recognition. The bars were badly bent, and the door was broken off. About a metre away lay Sidney, flat on his back, out cold.

Instantly Mark wet a towel and set about restoring his roommate.

Sidney’s eyelids fluttered, and he sat up woozily. “Oooh! I had a little accident.”

“What happened?” asked Bruno impatiently.

“I tripped over the cage,” Sidney admitted, touching the bump on his head experimentally. “And I had a little trouble getting up, because there were zucchini sticks all over the place, and I kept slipping on them.”

Diane looked around. “I don’t see any zucchini sticks.”

“That makes sense,” said Boots. “The bush hamsters ate them before they — before they —” Suddenly his face drained of all colour. “Bruno, the bush hamsters are
gone
!”

“Oh,
no
!” moaned Bruno. “When Elmer hears about this, he’ll freak out!”

* * *

“No-o-o-o!”

Bruno swallowed hard. He had never seen Elmer this upset. “Don’t worry, Elm. First thing in the morning, we’ll go looking for them. We’ll get them back to you.”

“My head hurts,” said Sidney plaintively.

“Keep quiet!
” thundered Elmer in outrage. “This is all your fault, you — you accident-prone personage!” Purposefully he stepped around a small computer and began rummaging through his closet. “We must find those bush hamsters
immediately
!”

“It’s five minutes to lights-out,” protested Boots. “How can we look for furry little animals on a totally dark campus?”

“With infrared glasses, of course!” Elmer pulled out a small carton that contained several devices that looked like scuba-diving masks. “Everybody take one!”

“What are you doing with infrared glasses?” asked Larry in amazement.

“How else can one see in the dark?” Elmer responded.

“You’ve heard of a flashlight?” asked Wilbur.

Cathy fitted the rubber strap behind her head and peered out the window. When she switched on the illuminator, the dark campus seemed perfectly visible through the infrared lens. “Hey, wow, these things are great! Everything looks green, but it’s light as day! I’ve got to get me a pair of these!”

Elmer was so agitated that his throat hadn’t closed up, even in the presence of the girls. “No dallying! It’s urgent that we find those animals!”

“Being out after lights-out is against the rules,” Pete put in.

“Rules?”
barked Elmer, approaching hysteria. “Four Manchurian bush hamsters —
an endangered species
 — are on the loose, and you’re telling me about
rules
? We’re searching
now
! Glasses in place! Forward — march!”

With Elmer in the lead, they climbed one by one out the window and regrouped outside the dormitory.

Pete scanned the large campus. “Where do we look first?” he asked helplessly.

“Everywhere,” said Elmer firmly. “I calculate another eight hours and seventeen minutes until sun-up. We have that long to retrieve the bush hamsters without any of the instructors finding out about it.”

* * *

By midnight, the search party had split up, and the various groups were off in different corners of the campus, still awaiting the first sign of Elmer’s bush hamsters. There were a few anxious moments when someone gave the regroup signal, an owl call, but that turned out to be a real owl. Further excitement was caused by Sidney’s urgent cries, but that too was a false alarm. He was stuck up in a tree where he had chased a squirrel, thinking it was a bush hamster.

Bruno, Boots, Cathy and Diane were combing the area nearest to the highway.

“I could
kill
Sidney Rampulsky for this!” Boots was muttering. “I mean, why can’t we just go to school like everybody else? Why are we always burying zucchini sticks, or looking for bush hamsters, or something?”

“Maybe it’s your punishment for being such a complainer,” said Bruno absently, creating a gap in the bushes with his arms and gazing inside.

“Don’t you realize how boring life would get if stuff like this didn’t happen?” Cathy asked Boots.

“Boring?” Boots repeated. “It would be great not to have to look over your shoulder half the time to see if The Fish is there.”

“Speaking of looking over your shoulder,” said Diane nervously, “who’s that coming out of your dorm right now?”

Boots gazed at the figure through his infrared glasses and went white to the ears. “It’s Hank the Tank!”

Bruno folded his arms in front of him in consternation. “He figured we’d all be partying on the night of the game, so he held a bed check! He’s getting to be a pretty sneaky guy, you know!”

“What are we going to do?” asked Diane.

The four watched as Mr. Carson paused thoughtfully outside the dormitory entrance, then headed for the highway. They ducked behind some bushes as he jogged across the road and scaled the wrought-iron fence surrounding Miss Scrimmage’s Finishing School for Young Ladies.

“He thinks we’re at Scrimmage’s!” exclaimed Bruno.

“He’s not stupid,” said Cathy. “Remember last time?”

Suddenly in the distance, a voice declared,
“Halt!”

“It’s Miss Scrimmage!” Boots hissed, beginning to panic. “She’s got Hank the Tank!”

“We’ve got to save him!” declared Bruno. “Call the guys! Give the owl signal!”

“I don’t know how to hoot like an owl. Why don’t you give the signal?”

“I thought it up, Boots. That doesn’t mean I can do it.”

Cathy threw up her hands in disgust. “Oh, you guys are hopeless!” She began to hoot vigorously, the sounds echoing all across the deserted campus.

* * *

“But Miss Scrimmage,” explained Henry Carson breathlessly, “I was just looking for my team! I wasn’t terrorizing anybody!”

“Keep those hands up!” barked the Headmistress, gesturing at him with her shotgun. “Two of my girls are not in their room! Where are they?”

“Honestly, Miss Scrimmage, I don’t know. I was just —”

“I know precisely what you were
just
!” she snapped. “These eyes may not be as young as they used to be, you know, but I recognize you perfectly, young man. You’re Henry, the awful thug from Macdonald Hall who assaulted me!”

Mr. Carson was sweating now. “I’m sorry about that,” he mumbled. “I thought you were going to hurt my team.”

“You’re
sorry
?” she shrieked. “A huge man like yourself attacking a poor, defenceless old woman trying to protect her innocent young girls!” She gestured across the highway. “Come along. We’re going to see Mr. Sturgeon.
He’ll
make you tell me where my students are!”

He moaned. “Aw, you don’t want to go there. It’s after midnight. I’ll tell you what — put away the gun, and I’ll help you look for your girls.”

“No tricks, Henry. Now, march!”

So it was that when the Manchurian bush hamster search party assembled in answer to Cathy’s call, they were greeted by the sight of Henry Carson being marched across the road at gunpoint.

“Mr. Carson!” groaned Bruno in true pain.

“What are we going to do?” asked Pete.

Wilbur looked at him as though he had a cabbage for a head. “Nothing, of course. That’s a real gun she’s holding.”

Bruno squared his shoulders. “Well, I’m going over there.”

Boots stared at him. “To do what?”

“To confess. This is our fault. Hank the Tank wouldn’t have gone to Scrimmage’s if we’d been in our rooms for bed check. Now, who’s coming with me?”

There was a painful silence.

“Come on,” Bruno prompted. “You don’t expect Boots and me to go alone, do you?”

“Me?” squeaked Boots. “Who volunteered me for the suicide mission?”

“We’ll go,” said Cathy, despite much signalling from Diane. “Maybe we can calm Miss Scrimmage down.”

One by one, the boys all agreed to join the expedition. Even Elmer, still frantic over his bush hamsters and terrified by the prospect of being caught outside after lights-out, allowed himself to be talked into it.

“Good,” said Bruno. “Now, here’s the plan. We form a big circle around Hank the Tank and Miss Scrimmage, and then we close in on them. When Miss Scrimmage notices us, we confess that it’s all our fault, the Tank goes free, and we take the rap.”

“Great plan,” said Larry without enthusiasm. “I
love
taking the rap. Maybe we’ll even get to rake more leaves.”

Bruno nodded. “I know it’s a bummer, but we owe it to the Tank after all he’s done for us. Okay, let’s go.”

“The next time you have a bush hamster search,” Wilbur told Elmer as the group scrambled off after Miss Scrimmage and Mr. Carson, “issue bulletproof vests.”

The Headmistress was marching her prisoner toward Mr. Sturgeon’s cottage on the south lawn, and the search party caught up with them almost halfway there. The students had no trouble forming a large ring around the pair, and then shrinking the circle exactly according to Bruno’s plan.

Mr. Carson noticed them first, but since none of the students had remembered to take off the infrared glasses, he saw only a ring of masked intruders. “Hey, look!”

Miss Scrimmage wheeled and, spying the begoggled prowlers, drew up in horror. “A street gang!” she screamed, and fainted.