Insidious Prophecy

by JH Terry

VI: House Selection and Bad Joke Reverberation

  When Tom and Peter were finished at the nurse’s office they left through the corridor that the office was connected to towards the pentagonal courtyard.

  “Tom,” asked Peter. “What is going on?”

  “I do not know Peter, it is very vague to me right now, but I hope to find out what it is about soon. What time is it?” Looking to his watch, Tom said, “It is about ten minutes to twelve o’clock. We have to be at the Lunch Hall now for the free lunch you talked about.”

  “At least we will not be seeing Lutid soon,” said Peter with a sigh as they walked towards the lunch hall. “I was sure he was going to hurt us until Mr. Baldeye came, and if it were not for last year I am sure that Baldeye would not have done anything.”

  “If there is anything I know for certain about this school, Peter, it is that it is not a walk in the park.”

  “That is true,” said Peter with a smile. “I mean where else in New York or the world, would you meet someone like Lutid.”

  “Yes,” said Tom. “He is especially priceless and one of a kind.”

  Soon they came to the corridor where the lunch hall was and were surprised to see that several boys were pushing each other to get inside. Many were laughing and pushing on purpose, some so annoyed that they just were pushing to get out of the clutter around them. Tom and Peter came into the crowd at the door. In front of them was a boy with curly dark brown hair, blue eyes, and dark skin, who was quite thin and tall like a bean pole.

  Looking to Tom, Peter said, “You see the person in front of us?”

  “Yes,” said Tom.

  “That is a good friend of mine, very wealthy too. His father is the head of Porting Industries.”

  “You mean the industrial giant of various clothing to marbles known all over the world?”

  “Exactly,” said Peter.

  Looking behind him, the boy saw Tom and Peter. He smiled and said, “Hello, Peter!”

  “Hello Porting, how was your summer?”

  “Same old thing, we went to the Bermuda Triangle this year to see if we could get really lost.”

  “Sorry it did not happen,” said Peter with a smile.

  “It did happen,” said Porting with a smile. “We lost my annoying little sister’s dog bon-bon by ‘accident.’”

  Turning to Tom, Peter said, “He has a younger sister who is friends with Kate. They are just the same, annoying.”

  “Who is your friend?” asked the Porting.

  “Oh,” said Peter. “This is my neighbor, Tom Reed.”

  “Tom Reed, nice to meet you, my name is William Porting, but my friends call me Porting because I am always leftish, or extremely democratic, and like to sail!” exclaimed Porting with a laugh. “Did you understand what I mean?”

  “Yes,” said Tom. “Port is the left side of a boat.”

  “You are very smart, most people need remedial lessons on that joke. You were the one this morning with the headache, hey?”

  “Yes,” said Tom.

  “Do not worry about that, it can happen to anyone. You should take some fake voodoo stuff I got at Bermuda. Scared my little sister Beth half to death. At least she does not barge into my room anymore with her annoying voice, especially since I told her that if she did I would put a voodoo curse on her. Worked like a charm. Do not tell anyone though. They might think that I am some witch doctor or working for the side of evil. It will not do any good when I take over my Dad’s business. Actually, tell them, remembering to exclude the fake part. They might be scared to death of me!” exclaimed Porting with a laugh.

  “What grade are you in?” asked Tom.

  “A junior along with Peter, and you?”

  “A junior as well.”

  “Well is that not a good thing? We have another troublemaker to add to our class. I think Baldeye will start to get those grey hairs soon. I bet you he already has them but just dyes it up so that no one can see. He looks older than Oliver Cromwell already.”

  “Oliver Cromwell?” asked Tom trying to remember who this was.

  “You know, the one who started the English revolution with Andrew the First’s cavaliers versus Cromwell’s roundheads. Cromwell won with Andrew beheaded. Afterwards he started his sedate Puritan state, which was so bad that they gave it up to have the king again under Andrew the Second, Andrew the First’s son.”

  “What is taking such a long time? And why is everybody pushing?” asked Peter.

  “Peter, you should know,” said Porting. “These guys are hungry. They would eat the tables if it were possible.”

  “The problem with free food,” said Tom.

  “The problem with an all boys school with expensive costs,” said Porting with a laugh. “If we had to pay half the boys here would be carrying their own food. They are just human – cheap. Besides, we are not just having lunch, the new boys are to be separated into their houses.”

  “I thought that was to be done tomorrow,” said Peter.

  “Yeah, but they thought it was best to do it today. I guess they want to keep their classes.” Looking to Tom, Porting said, “Do not worry, it is really nice. As long as you are not picked last.”

  “Last?” asked Tom.

  “You’ll see,” said Porting with a slight smile.

  Soon Tom, Peter and Porting went into the lunch area of Sudbury High. The lunch area was a very large hall made of grey brick with four columns of four long mahogany wood tables to sit upon for eating, with several benches along the sides of each of the sixteen tables. All of the boys sat down while in the front of the hall there was Mrs. Carchy wearing a pink dress that went down to her ankles and flat pink shoes. She had blond hair, blue eyes, and was about five foot in height. To their left there was the lunch counter where there were several women, wearing aprons and hair nets, who were ready, especially trained for the difficulties that arose in an all boys school cafeteria. At the top of the walls there were several windows that let in the sun’s light into the gloomy hall.

  Tom, Peter, and Porting sat at a table in the second column from the left and the third table from the front. On the top of the table Tom saw the word “Brownies” carved in deep into the wood.

  “Peter, what is going on?” asked Tom.

  “Oh,” said Peter. “All of the new boys are to be separated into their houses. The people in each house sit at a table that is in their team’s column. We only do this at special events, such as this one. Otherwise we are all together and sit anywhere we want to. Over to the right sit the Silver Dragons, then the Green Leprechauns, the Brown Brownies, and the Black Snakes.”

  “Leprechauns and brownies?” asked Tom.

  “I know that they do not sound very threatening,” said Peter, “but leprechauns are very crafty, as are brownies.”

  “Do they mean the brownies that one eats?” asked Tom.

  “No,” said Peter with a smile. “The brownies that are in fairy tales.”

  “You mean small, little brownies?” asked Tom as Peter shook his head ‘yes.’ “They could not choose a name other than something as redundant as brown brownies?”

  “Tom, you should not be so harsh about the name, I like it a lot and see nothing wrong with it at all.”

  “Peter, what team are you on?” asked Tom with a smile.

  With a slightly flushed face, Peter said, “The brown brownies, but it is a nice team.”

  “Have you ever won any events?”

  Even more flushed in his face, Peter said, “We will this year, I am sure of it. Besides what does winning have to do with it? We have so much team spirit that we tend to stick together in team sports, playing only a defensive game.”

  “But if that is true, then at least the other team should not score, right?”

  “Tom we are all the brains, none of us are athletic. At least we win the school mathematics competitions because of Riply.”

  “Riply?” asked Tom.

&nb
sp; “Do not worry, you will meet him later. Besides, it does not matter. To everyone we are a bunch of losers anyway. They say that the reason why we are such losers is because we are stupid, dinky little brownies. Who is scared of a brownie?”

  “Indeed,” said Tom.

  “Settle down young gentlemen,” said Mrs. Carchy in a very think Scottish voice. Soon all the boys were quiet. “I am here to settle you into your houses because nobody else wanted to look at your faces!” exclaimed Mrs. Carchy with a laugh only shared by her. “Did you not get it young gentlemen? It was because no one else wanted to look at your faces!” again Mrs. Carchy exclaimed with a laugh only shared by her. “I guess somebody has lost their humor! I saw all of the cats streaming to here this morning, perhaps that is why!” exclaimed Mrs. Carchy again with a laugh. “Get it, cats got your tongues!” Suddenly some of the boys began to laugh at her bad humor.

  Someone next to Tom, a boy with blond hair and brown eyes, said, “You would think she would take a hint.”

  “Now young sirs, you must at least have found that funny. How about this, guess what happened to the cat when it went down the road?” Everyone was still silent. “I do not know, that is why I am asking you. Get it, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

  “How pathetic, even my grandmother made better jokes on her deathbed,” said Porting. Suddenly Tom, Peter, and the other boys who heard this began to laugh out loud, acknowledging this fully.

  Seeing that they were laughing, and believing it to be directed at her joke, Mrs. Carchy said, “Look, see, they have a sense of humor. They find my jokes to be funny.”

  Hearing what Mrs. Carchy said made them laugh even more. Porting had tears in his eyes from laughing so much.

  “Now young sirs, it was not that funny. You can quiet down now. Since some of us were light enough to share that laugh,” said Mrs. Carchy with everyone laughing out loud at the pun in what she said. “Now young sirs, you may quite down now. I do say you have no sense of humor at all.”

  Again they laughed out loud. After several minutes they were quieted and Mrs. Carchy began to speak. “Now, would the twenty new pupils please come up here to be sorted into their houses.”

  “Good luck Tom,” said Peter.

  “Thanks,” said Tom.

  “Do not worry,” said Porting. “We will be seeing you soon at the Brownie table.”

  “I hope so,” said Tom.

  Tom then walked up to the front of the hall and stood with the others. Tom looked around to see that everyone was staring, especially at him, the boy from before who had the headache problem.

  “Now,” said Mrs. Carchy, “you students know the drill. You can draft to each house five people. You ask questions about each of the pupils and then select them for your house. Each house has a representative?” At one time four prefect boys from each of the houses stood up to show that they were the ones selected, and then sat down. “All right, the order is by the best house to the lowest house. Therefore it is Silver Dragons, Black Snakes, Green Leprechauns, and then the Brown Brownies. Therefore, who is representing the Silver Dragons?”

  “I, Gregory Tund.”

  “And the Black Snakes?”

  “I, Ryan Ferad.”

  “And the Green Leprechauns?”

  “I, Henry O’Neil.”

  “And the Brown Brownies?”

  “I, Kevin Quinsley.”

  “Well then,” said Mrs. Carchy, “it is time to start with the Silver Dragons. Mr. Ferad please start.”

  “Mrs. Carchy, it is Gregory Tund,” said Gregory Tund.

  “What?” asked Mrs. Carchy.

  “My name is Gregory Tund.”

  “Oh well, if you say so. Just start your request.”

  Looking to the boys, Tund said to one with dark brown hair and eyes who was next to Tom, “What is your name?”

  “Theodore Simpson.”

  “What grade are you in?”

  “Nine.”

  “What is your favorite word?”

  “What?”

  “I ask the questions here, what is your favorite word?”

  “I do not know, perhaps jovial.”

  “Hmm, we do not want a happy one like you on our team. You might sing songs that start with the word kindness too often for my liking. We do not want you on the Silver Dragons, but perhaps the Brown Brownies could use your help. They need anything that they can get.” Looking to Tom, Gregory Tund said, “What is your name?”

  “Thomas Reed.”

  “What is your grade?”

  “Eleven.”

  “What is your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  “Well, the school does not have a blue color, but blue is very close to the silver dragon. Perhaps we could use you for the Silver Dragons. Tell me why you should be here on the winning team.”

  “There is no need of mine to motivate such an answer. I do not want to be a silver dragon.”

  Suddenly everyone in the hall was shocked. No one who was offered a place on the winning team ever refused, it was a first in Sudbury High history.

  “Why not? Who wants to be a loser?”

  “It is not whether or not I want to be a loser or winner. The real winners are those who can walk away from a game happy from playing, not unhappy from being driven only to gain a title from winning.”

  “You are foolish,” said Gregory Tund. “We will show you, won’t we silver dragons!”

  “Yes!!” they all exclaimed with a deafening sound in the hall.

  “We will see when you and your team loses the big Inter-house Football Match against all of the houses on November fifteenth. Never have the brownies ever won against any of the houses, nor have they ever succeeded in coming to the end of the year match between the two best houses. With me and the other dragons still around to make sure of our success, so it shall remain the Brown Brownies, a team of bred losers. Seeing the incompetence of this one, I vouch for him and the boy next to him to be given to the Brown Brownies for their willingness to be losers. Any other house that wants to defy this?” There was no answer from any other house. “Fine then. If it is all right with you Mrs. Carchy?”

  Looking around as if she did not know what was going on, Mrs. Carchy said, “Oh, yes.”

  As Tom walked over to where he was sitting before, he heard Tund say, “We will show him at the Inter-house Football Match that the dragons are and always will be the best.”