Miss Candace looked horrified. “Why, then send him inside at once! I’ll examine him. He may need a good dosing of castor oil—and perhaps some drops. Did he seem pale at all?”
Iggy said he thought Oliver looked very pale indeed, but that he was crying too hard and would not listen to anyone. Mrs. Brindle had already tried to make him come inside, and he simply wouldn’t come. Mr. Pileus and Mr. Griese had been sent for, and they had tried to carry Oliver inside, but he’d clung to the rails of the gazebo with such ferocity—having wound his arms and legs through them—that they feared they might hurt him if they pulled any harder.
“Oh, my!” Miss Candace exclaimed, rising from the desk. “He’s having a fit! I’ll fetch my bag!”
The nurse hurried out, leaving Iggy alone with Nicholas, asleep on the floor, and one girl who had been drowsily reading an encyclopedia entry on unicorns. At a look from Iggy, the girl also hastened from the library, and moments later Moray and Breaker came into the room, smiling wickedly. They shut the door behind them.
“Finally!” said Moray, rubbing his hands together.
Breaker grunted his agreement. “You can say that again!”
“Finally!” Iggy said.
“Not you,” Breaker said, shoving him.
Despite their careful planning, it had taken the Spiders much longer than they’d expected to threaten Oliver into feigning his illness, for every child at the Manor feared Miss Candace’s treatments almost as much as they feared the Spiders. At last, of course, he had submitted and begun his wailing fit—a fit made all the more authentic by his terror of Miss Candace—and with the Spiders’ prompting, all the orphanage staff were eventually gathered around the gazebo, until finally Miss Candace herself had come out.
But all of this had taken time—almost half an hour, in fact—and as a result Nicholas had reached the end of his nap. He awoke to the sound of the Spiders’ voices, and he sensed right away the danger he was in. Miss Candace was obviously out of the room, the door was obviously closed, and Nicholas was obviously alone with the Spiders. He felt a horrible tightening in his belly. He would not be talking his way out of this one. He could just tell.
“Breaker, you stay by the door,” Moray was saying. “If he wakes up, I don’t want him getting out before I’m finished with him.”
“But I want to kick him!” Breaker protested. “Why does Iggy get to kick him and I don’t?”
“Calm down. We’ll all get to kick him. We’ll take turns. But I want that door covered, so get over there. Back up, Iggy! I get the first crack at him. Remember, leave the face alone. Old Candy Cane might come back to check on him. We don’t want to leave any obvious marks.”
Nicholas was trapped against the bookshelves. He knew he could not run. Moray and Iggy would be on him before he even reached his feet. He was going to have to fight them. Fight them and lose badly. He wondered if he could even throw a punch before Moray knocked him down. Maybe he should let Moray kick him once, and then hold on to his leg; maybe that way he could slow down the rest of the attack. His mouth was very dry. His heart was racing. For once he had absolutely no idea what to do.
Then he heard the door open, and a voice said, “Get away from him, Moray.”
Nicholas’s heart leaped. It was John’s voice.
“What are you doing here, Spotty?” Moray asked gruffly. “And what did you just say? Because it sounded like you said—”
“You heard me right,” said John. His voice trembled slightly, but his tone was resolute. “Leave him alone. You can’t attack him when he’s defenseless like this.”
Iggy spoke up. “Since when do you tell us what we can’t do, Polka Dot?”
“You better scram right now,” said Moray. From their voices Nicholas could tell the Spiders were advancing on John. “If you know what’s good for you. Get out of here and maybe we won’t hunt you down later.”
“I’m not leaving,” said John.
“I guess you can’t count,” said Breaker. “Because it’s three against one here.”
“Actually, it’s three against two,” Nicholas announced, and the Spiders turned to discover him on his feet, a defiant gleam in his eye.
“Are you kidding me?” Moray growled, throwing his hands into the air. “Now he’s awake! Can’t one thing go right?” In frustration he gave Iggy a one-armed shove. Iggy slunk away from him with big wounded eyes, like a frightened dog kicked by its master, and Breaker took a step back to keep himself out of reach.
Without taking his eyes from the Spiders, John circled around them to stand beside Nicholas. “Better let this one go, Moray. If you have a beef with my friend, you’ll need to settle it some other way.”
“Your friend?” Moray sneered. “So you’re friends with nine-year-olds now? Well, you sure picked a bad one to be your little friend, Spotty. You realize that, right?”
John made no reply. He simply returned Moray’s stare with a level gaze and stood on the balls of his feet as if expecting an attack. Nicholas likewise braced himself, but no attack came. Instead, Moray gave John a contemptuous look and said, “Fine. Now we know where we stand. Now we know what we’re dealing with. And now you can know that you’re going to pay.”
“Pay big-time,” Breaker said, pointing a finger at John.
“Pay a lot,” Iggy said. “So much that you can’t even afford it.”
“Shut up, Iggy!” said Moray, shoving him again. “You sound like an idiot. Now come on, we’ll leave these two sweet little friends alone to think about what we’re going to do to them next time.”
“Yeah, because next time is going to be bad for them,” Breaker said, punching his fist into his palm to demonstrate how bad it would be. He backed out the door after Moray, and Iggy followed, looking more peevish than ever.
“Well,” said Nicholas, grinning with relief, “I guess they didn’t like their odds.”
John went to close the door. “No, three against one is how they like to do it. Otherwise they might get hurt, even though they’ll win the fight.” He walked back over and extended his hand, looking Nicholas squarely in the eye. “Listen, I’m really sorry about everything, Nick. What do you say?”
Nicholas gladly shook his hand. What little resentment he had felt toward John had vanished at the first sound of his voice in the library. “No hard feelings. And thanks for helping me out. I was kind of in a pickle there. I knew I could beat them up, of course, but I wasn’t sure how to do it quietly. This is a library, after all.”
John laughed and clapped Nicholas on the back. “You really are a fresh one, Nick. You really are.” The look of relief was plain on his face. “Anyway, it’s swell of you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so rotten.”
“What made you change your mind?” Nicholas asked.
“I didn’t change my mind,” John said with a grimace. “I made up my mind right away. It just took me this long to find my guts. I won’t kid you, Nick, I’m awfully ashamed. It’s just—well, I knew taking your side would mean more than a black eye and a fat lip. I knew I’d be making permanent enemies of the Spiders. I guess I wasn’t up to it, even though I knew it was right.” He made a disgusted sound. “Every day I’ve been telling myself to do something about it, but like I said, I couldn’t find my guts.”
“You sure seemed to find them just now,” Nicholas said. “You were ready to fight the whole gang.”
“It should never have come to that. Honestly, I can’t believe this place, Nick. The staff should have seen something was up. I saw it right away. When I noticed Moray and Breaker sneaking back inside during that commotion with Oliver, I knew they were hunting you. And I knew you’d be in the library, of course—everybody knows that’s where you spend your free time.”
“It’s true I’ve been doing a little reading,” Nicholas said somewhat absently. He bent to pick up the book about engineering. Something had occurred to him, something he probably should take more time to consider. But a powerful impulse overtook him—whether from gratitude
or a renewed feeling of friendship or both—and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I have a secret!” He looked up at John with his bright, mischievous green eyes. “I have a secret, and you aren’t going to believe it!”
The two boys met at midnight in the back of the park. Nicholas heard the soft shush of John’s bare feet in the grass and stepped out from behind the tree where he was hiding. John was prowling several yards away, pausing every few steps to search the shadows. Nicholas whistled like a bobwhite. John froze, peering in his direction (the moon was hidden behind clouds, and it was quite dark beneath the trees) until Nicholas waved with both arms.
“You looked like part of the tree!” John whispered as he hurried over. He was in his pajamas. “Is it always this dark out here? I don’t see how you ever found the path.”
“I don’t know about ‘always.’ Last night was my first time out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Here, let’s have some light. If you prick your foot on something, you’ll have a hard time explaining the blood.” Nicholas stooped to light his lantern. “Next time I’ll bring some extra shoes for you. There are a lot of rocks out here.”
“Extra shoes? How do you expect to find extra shoes? For that matter, how in the world did you come by that lantern?”
“Conjured it,” Nicholas replied, turning up the flame. He held the lantern before his face, so that the glass distorted his features, and put on his most mysterious expression.
John narrowed his eyes. “So now you’re conjuring things, too? I thought it was just predicting the future.”
“Predicting the future helps me conjure things. It’s all part of my magic.”
“I see,” John said drily. “And is that how you’re getting out of your room at night? Magic? I have to say, it didn’t even occur to me until I was lying in my cot, pretending to be asleep. Suddenly I thought, ‘Wait a minute—how does he get out?’ ”
“All shall be revealed in good time,” Nicholas said in a wavery fortune-teller voice.
“You aren’t going to tell me?”
“I prefer to remain mysterious.” Nicholas took his flour-sack backpack from behind the tree and slipped it on. “Why don’t you tell me how you got out?” he asked, gesturing for John to follow him. They started up the trail.
Unlike Nicholas, who still had secrets he wanted to keep to himself, John was happy to discuss the details of his escape. It so happened that Mr. Griese, whose turn it was to chaperone the dormitory, was a frightful snorer. Once everyone was asleep, it had only been a matter of creeping to the door, then timing the opening of the squeaky latch with Mr. Griese’s snores.
“We should have that latch oiled,” Nicholas said. “What do you think would happen if you were caught?”
“I’d claim a bathroom emergency,” John said. “They might go easy on me. You’re supposed to tell the chaperone if you need to go—which almost never happens, since the staff hate to be awakened and will treat you like a baby in front of everyone—but I could say I was being quiet out of courtesy. I think they’d believe me. That’s one of the benefits of being square, Nick, though I don’t suppose it compares with being mysterious.”
“I’m sure being square has its merits,” Nicholas said, pretending to sound superior. “It’s true, however, that mysterious persons such as myself can dispense with bathroom explanations and blame sleepwalking, which everyone knows is more dignified.”
“Oh, indeed,” John replied. Then in a more serious tone he said, “It really is a good thing you have your own room. I know it’s probably scary up there, but in the dormitory, sleepwalking or talking in your sleep would get you punished. You have to wear a dunce cap the whole next day—it’s pretty humiliating.”
Nicholas was appalled. “But what if you have nightmares?”
“Doesn’t matter. Mr. Collum says it’s the only way to be sure kids aren’t being disruptive just for fun. If you make any noise after bedtime, you get punished, no matter what the reason.”
“That’s perfectly draconian,” Nicholas said.
“I’m sure it is,” John agreed. “But listen, Nick, if you’re going to keep using words like that, you’ll have to start giving the definitions.”
The boys continued to talk, lightly and cheerfully, as they wound their way up the path. Once, they noticed the lantern light reflected in the eyes of a small animal crouching in the undergrowth—the eyes appeared as spots of luminescent yellow-green, like fireflies frozen in place—and wondered what it was. Nicholas expressed his hope that it wasn’t a bobcat. John expressed his opinion that it was indeed a bobcat and that it wanted to eat Nicholas.
“I think you insulted it,” Nicholas said when the creature scampered away. He pressed on up the path.
“No, it’s running off to tell its friends. They’re going to share you for dinner.”
“I’m starting to regret bringing you,” Nicholas said, privately reflecting how nervous he would have been if he’d seen those eyes the night before. It made a remarkable difference having a friend along.
When at last they reached the summit, Nicholas made a flourish with his free arm and declared, “Welcome to Giant’s Head!” He stepped aside to let John enter the clearing first.
John whistled and hurried forward. “Look at this place! What a find! And you came up here all by yourself—you went in there all by yourself? I’m impressed, Nick. Awfully spooky.” If he was affected by the spookiness of the place, however, he gave no sign. He brushed aside the dangling vines and plunged into the dark observatory, not even waiting for the lantern.
Nicholas followed him inside. The floor, he saw, was damp and puddled. There had been a thunderstorm that afternoon, and in his weariness he had left the roof panels open last night. John began walking around the room, inspecting everything and exclaiming aloud. The rotten cabinets, the old door, the broken and discarded bits of metal on the floor, and especially those cranks—he was openly admiring of it all. Nicholas felt immensely proud, as if he had not merely discovered the observatory but built it himself.
Standing on tiptoes and gesturing with his hands, he described how large the telescope would have been, to give John a sense of how the room might once have looked. Like Nicholas, John was impressed with the observatory’s design, even though at the moment their echoing voices and splashing feet made the place seem more like a primitive cave. He also agreed that if there was a concealed treasure chamber at Giant’s Head, the cranks seemed the obvious means of revealing it.
“Let’s see if we can turn two at once,” he suggested. “Just to try it.”
Nicholas agreed, and they each selected a different crank. On a count of three they began to turn. The cranks groaned and squealed, the chains rattled within the walls, and the roof panels slid upward across the dome. The night sky vanished—but that was all that happened. They rested, then reversed direction. The panels began to reopen. The boys glanced around to see if anything else was happening, then quickly looked up again. They found it hard to take their eyes from the retracting panels, which were themselves a curiously appealing sight.
“It’s like we’re unzipping the roof,” John panted.
Soon the panels were fully retracted. The cranks refused to budge further, and nothing else had changed.
“Still, that was swell,” John said, wiping his brow. “And now we know we can do it. So what’s next? Do you have any ideas about a combination?”
“Not yet,” Nicholas admitted. “I was thinking I could tell you what I’ve read in Mr. Rothschild’s diary and see if any details ring a bell. You’ve been here longer than I have. Maybe you’ve noticed something or know about something I don’t. What do you say?”
“Sure, you tell me what you know, and I’ll do my best. It’s worth a shot.”
“It might take us a while,” Nicholas warned. “Several nights, anyway. Quoting from that diary will take a lot longer than it did to read it, and we’ll want to discuss everything as we go along. And of course we can’t stay up all
night, every night, or we’ll fall apart.”
“No, we need to be careful about that,” John agreed. “And we probably shouldn’t risk talking about it during the day. It’s hard to have private conversations down there. Though, come to think of it, maybe that will change now….”
For a moment John’s face took on the familiar melancholy expression that had been absent so far tonight. Nicholas knew he was remembering dinner, when the fact that he had saved a seat for Nicholas had sent ripples of astonishment and confusion throughout the dining hall. Many of the children could be heard asking if Nicholas’s exile had ended. But then the Spiders had come in and settled the matter with their hostile glares. The two boys sitting nearest John and Nicholas had scooted as far away as possible, and everyone had stared and stared.
John’s cheeks had turned red, and they had stayed that way for the rest of the meal. He hadn’t complained, however. And tonight, on the path up to Giant’s Head, he’d told Nicholas again how relieved he was to have found his guts. “You wouldn’t know it, Nick,” he’d said, “but it’s an awful feeling, being a coward. I’d never tried it before—I’d never had to—and I sure hope I won’t ever again.”
Nicholas had offered some lighthearted joke in response, but the truth was that he found it awfully nice to be thought brave. No one had ever suggested such a thing to him before.
“I think,” he said now, breaking in upon John’s unhappy reflections, “we can discuss things if we’re sure no one’s listening. But only if we’re absolutely sure. Otherwise we should save all treasure talk for Giant’s Head.”
John forced a smile. “Well, it’s worth losing a little sleep to find a treasure, isn’t it? Besides, I’d be glad to come up here every night, even if all it meant was getting out of that place for a while.”
The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict Page 16