An enormous explosion rocked southern Long Island, echoing in all directions. The sky lit up like day as a huge fireball rose above the houses to the north.
“The school!” chorused Raymond, Sean, and Nikki.
With a squeal of the tires, Mr. Delancey wheeled down a sideroad and headed for DeWitt High.
Cars were converging from all directions, their occupants curious as to the source of the violent eruption. The Delanceys arrived just as the DeWitt Fire Department screeched up the driveway, sirens howling. Sean was the first one onto the scene, Gramp hot on his heels.
The school building was still standing, but the apparatus on the roof was completely gone. In its place, fire blazed. It looked as though SACGEN had been surgically removed and replaced by a wall of flame.
Flaked out on the lawn a safe distance from the building, engineers were scattered like tenpins. Q. David Hyatt was there, too, dancing up and down in the eerie glow of the blaze. The crowd began to gather behind the line of fire fighters, who were training their powerful hoses on the roof. Gingerly, Quisenberry and his thirteen engineers got to their feet.
An ancient Buick with a broken muffler roared up to the curb, and out jumped Howard Newman, shrieking like a banshee. “It’s dead! The windmill’s dead!” Randy, Chris, Leland, and Ten-Ton were with him, and the five formed a circle and began a joyous dance, exchanging high-fives with one another.
Spying Gramp, Howard broke away from the revellers and sprinted over to embrace the old man. “You did it, Mr. Gunhold! You killed the windmill!, You’re the greatest poet in history!”
“But what happened?” Nikki asked, stumbling up with a limping Raymond.
Gramp smiled. “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put SACGEN together again.”
“They overloaded it keeping everything working during the presentation,” Randy explained. “Then even all fourteen of them couldn’t save it.”
“It was only a matter of time,” added Chris breathlessly.
Leland was hysterical. “Positive vub, baby! Quasi-radioactive vub! Super high-powered mega-bang vub! Oh, this is just great!”
“AHA!” exclaimed Ten-Ton, pointing a big finger at Leland. Leland looked embarrassed, and slunk off into the crowd.
A local reporter approached Mr. Hyatt. “Was there anyone in the building?”
“Only myself and the engineers,” replied the principal, totally devastated, “and we got out just in time.”
Another ten minutes of activity had the fire under control and, as the smoke cleared, the spectators were able to get a good look at DeWitt High. With the exception of a few windows shattered by the explosion, the school looked perfectly normal, minus the SACGEN superstructure that had been on the roof.
“Gramp,” said Sean, “I’m so sorry I made such a mess of things. I’m sorry I got you thrown in jail. I’m sorry I got you involved in the whole Gavin Gunhold thing. I’m just sorry, that’s all.”
Gramp looked at him as though he had a cabbage for a head. “What are you — crazy? I’ve lived eighty-eight years, and I’ve never had such a high time in my life! Kiddo, you make Long Island worthwhile!”
Epilogue
DeWitt High School shut down for two days for a thorough cleanup. There was surprisingly little damage to the school itself, although the SACGEN superstructure had literally disappeared, and the core was completely burned out. The heavy walls built to protect the core unit had actually protected the school. Thus the classrooms and hallways were intact, if one discounted the acrid aroma of a backyard barbecue in certain areas. To the students, it was sweet perfume.
Howard Newman had found a small, charred gear wheel on the front lawn of a house across the street from the school. He now wore it on a sterling silver chain and invited everyone to come and touch it for luck. He called it, simply, “Fried Windmill.”
The Gavin Gunhold story had come out completely when the media had checked the police report and found the eighty-eight-year-old yo-yo ace registered as Patrick Delancey. Gramp, Sean, Raymond, and Ashley spent most of Tuesday on the phone with reporters. The story of the big deception made all the papers, hand in hand with SACGEN’s spectacular demise.
Sean had talked to Raymond by telephone, but his English partner still seemed totally destroyed by the loss of Theamelpos. There was no life to Raymond’s voice and no hope. Gramp had tried to cheer him up with the news that Buffalo was under forty inches of snow, but Raymond remained unresponsive.
Despite his worries over Raymond’s morale, and the fact that Gavin Gunhold’s career in poetry was over, Gramp’s spirits were high and he was back in front of the Weather Channel, smoking his Scrulnick’s, drinking his prune juice, and scanning the national weather map for low pressure systems to cheer on.
The strangest reaction of them all, though, was that of Tina Delancey. She had been deathly quiet after the dying echoes of the SACGEN explosion Monday night and had woken up Tuesday morning with a purpose.
When Mr. Delancey came home from work that evening, he found the family’s entire collection of technology, including his beloved argon-neon laser, piled high at the edge of the curb, awaiting the trash truck. He located his wife, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the living room, weaving a tapestry. To his unspoken question, she replied, “This family is going back to nature.”
By nightfall, he had already organized their first hike.
***
When Sean arrived at school on Thursday, he could almost feel the familiar electricity of the Long Island Lighting Company flowing through the building. It was most refreshing. There was a festive atmosphere among the students, and Sean was on the receiving end of countless messages of congratulation. It reminded him of the morning after the big game, only this was ten times better.
He found Raymond thump-swinging morosely up to his locker. There was a note taped to the door, summoning Jardine, R., to Mr. Hyatt’s office at three-twenty.
“Well, this makes it official,” Raymond lamented, rummaging through his locker and producing a thick paperback entitled 2001 Useful Phrases in Modern Swedish. “good-bye, Theamelpos.” Pivoting on his good leg, he tossed the book with the perfect form of a Sean Delancey, swish! into the garbage can fifteen feet away. A quick check of Sean’s locker showed that he, too, was to present himself at the office at three-twenty.
“Q-Dave’s going to kill us,” Sean predicted mournfully.
Raymond shook his head. “No such luck. We’re talking guaranteed Secaucus here. But first we’ve got Kerr to deal with, remember?”
Sean slapped his forehead. “I forgot! Ashley’s got the finished poetry assignment! He’ll never accept it! We’re going to flunk! I’ll be kicked off the team!”
“Nice hindsight, Delancey. Why couldn’t you have blown up the windmill a few weeks later, when the semester was over, and the selection for Theamelpos was already made?”
They met Ashley outside English class and entered together, presenting a united front.
“Ah, the Gunhold group.” Mr. Kerr wore an enormous smile. “I was wondering if you people had the nerve to show up today. Good. I have a great deal to say to you.”
The three approached the desk, and a chair was found for Raymond.
“Before you come up with another outrageous pack of lies, at which you are extremely adept, let me show you this.” He reached into his top drawer and produced the old, faded Gavin Gunhold obituary.
“So you had it!” Sean blurted.
“Ah, this document is familiar to you. I thought it might be. So, you see, I’ve known for some weeks now that you were up to something.”
“Why did you let us go on with it?” asked Raymond.
The teacher shrugged. “I suppose I rather liked your poetry. And I wanted to see how far you would go. I must admit you surprised even me.”
Ashley held out their neatly typed assignment, complete with collected clippings and videocassette. “I guess you don’t want to see this anymore, si
r.”
“Are you kidding?” Mr. Kerr stood up and snatched the material out of her hand. “I’ve been waiting for this for weeks! Weeks!” He paused. “I’m giving you all C’s. Bear in mind that it’s strictly for effort.”
“Thank you!” said Sean breathlessly, and led the Gunhold group back to their seats.
“And tell your grandfather,” Mr. Kerr called, “that, in my professional opinion as an English expert, he throws a mean yo-yo.”
“I can’t believe he passed us!” breathed Sean. “He’s not such a bad guy after all.”
Raymond was unimpressed. “Are you kidding? If he’d tried to flunk us, I would have reported him to the New York City Public Library like that!” He snapped his fingers. “He stole a clipping! That’s research material!”
Sean and Ashley laughed, mostly with relief.
***
Sean was navigating the halls en route to last period when Mindy O’Toole strode purposefully up to him.
“Danny Eckerman just wants you to know that he had absolutely nothing to do with all the stuff that happened Monday night.”
Sean nodded, not surprised, and said nothing.
“Also,” Mindy went on, “you and Raymond aren’t allowed to continue planning the Christmas activities or any other social stuff like that. Danny completely denies any connection with you, and —”
“Stop.” Sean held out his palm, policeman-style. “I’ve heard entirely too much about what Danny says. Everyone in the school has heard too much from Danny. I have a question for you, Mindy. Are you a real person, or is Danny a ventriloquist? No one cares what Danny says. What do you say?”
Mindy looked thoughtful. “Well, I’m having a party Saturday night. Want to come?”
Sean started. What had happened to their fading relationship? Could it be fading back in again? He said, “Is it personally sponsored by Danny Eckerman?”
“Oh, no. Danny’s not invited. He’s a drag at parties.”
Sean hesitated. Maybe her invitation had come about just because he was the SACGEN hero, the windmill slayer. No, that couldn’t be. He’d always been a hero — after all, who had the sweetest jump shot on the varsity basketball team? He was no better than before — just a little more well-rounded.
“Yeah, thanks, Mindy. I’ll be there.”
Last period was, in a way, the first computer class of the year, and all systems worked perfectly for the introductory demonstration. The students were delighted to welcome back Mr. Lai. He was not officially reinstated on staff yet, but he felt it was his right to conduct at least one lesson in peace.
When the class was over, Sean found Raymond, and the two presented themselves at the principal’s office. Ashley and Steve were already waiting there. Ashley had been summoned as the third member of the Gunhold group; Steve was there since he had hung around just enough to be implicated in the caper. Steve had been so enchanted by Raymond’s nickname for him that he was wearing the brand new muscle shirt he’d bought. Across the chest it read in sparkling letters: CEMENTHEAD.
Inside the office, they found Mr. Hyatt and Senior Engineer Quisenberry, their expressions only slightly less friendly than the war frenzy of the ancient Philistines.
As he sat down beside Raymond, Sean resolved that, no matter what happened, his friend would not have to spend his summer gutting fish in New Jersey. Sean would ask his father to pull strings so the two of them could work in his office in the city. Or, if that didn’t pan out, they’d find jobs somewhere — anywhere. But he would save Raymond from Secaucus.
Quisenberry conducted the meeting, as Mr. Hyatt seemed beyond speech. The principal had arrived at school that morning by bus. His Cadillac was in the body shop, having been sideswiped by a fire truck Monday night.
“Well, I suppose you people are really proud of yourselves,” growled the engineer, pacing in front of them. “I suppose you think you’re just the cat’s pajamas.” He leaned over until his face was an inch and a half from Sean’s. “You must think it’s just terrific that you managed to destroy a thirty-three-million-dollar installation.”
The four culprits were silent. Sean suppressed an urge to point out that the explosion had come from Quisenberry’s own stubborn refusal to shut SACGEN down. The Gunhold plan had only been to cause a breakdown.
The senior engineer resumed his pacing. “Just in case you think you’ve accomplished anything, I’m here to tell you that SACGEN is being rebuilt — right here. The blueprint for SACGEN II is already finished. Construction begins in March and the new unit will be operational for the Fourth of July weekend.” His eyes narrowed, and he stopped in his tracks. “It’s possible that, on the new opening, the press might decide to dredge up the ghost of Monday night, which, of course, we’ve all forgotten. The Department of Energy wishes you four people to be unavailable for comment in July, to make sure this old story doesn’t just happen to come up again. Is that clear?”
There were four murmured “Yes, sirs.”
Quisenberry stood up and examined a piece of paper on the principal’s desk. “Since I don’t believe you, I’m going to make absolutely sure that there’s no way any of our beloved media can reach you four when the time comes to dedicate SACGEN II. You’ve each submitted an essay to win a trip to Greece this summer.” His face darkened. “Congratulations. You all win. You are going to Theamelpos, Greece, whether you like it or not.” And his last sentence was merely a snarl. “Have a nice trip!”
Sean almost broke his neck turning to look at Raymond. His English partner’s eyes were glazed over, and great tears were running down his cheeks. His whole body quivered.
Mr. Hyatt blew up at Raymond. “I don’t want any argument! I can’t believe you! You’ve been caught outright! Now, take your punishment like a man!”
Raymond nodded vigorously, but the tears kept coming.
The principal stood up. “And don’t try to get out of it! The airline reservations have already been made in your names!”
Raymond began to bawl out loud.
“Oh, get out of my office! You’re blubbering all over my shag carpeting!”
“Don’t worry, Ray,” said Steve once they were out in the hall. “It won’t be so bad. Honest. Don’t cry.”
“You’re so stupid, Cementhead!” Raymond exploded. “I’m not crying! I’m crying! Jardine is going to Theamelpos!” Delirious, he hugged Sean, Steve, Ashley and a very startled janitor who happened to be passing by.
Steve shook his head. “Ray, you’re a great guy, and because of what we’ve been through together, we’re friends for life. But sometimes you can be pretty weird.”
Sean’s grin was positively idiotic, just from watching Raymond’s celebration.
“We’re going to the mall to get something to eat,” Ashley said. “You guys want to come with us?”
But Raymond was already propelling himself at breakneck speed down the hall.
“Not today, Ashley. See you tomorrow,” Sean replied and took off after Raymond.
He found his friend digging through the garbage can near his locker, head down, hurling refuse in all directions. “I can’t believe it!” came his muffled voice. “Some slob threw garbage on my phrase book! Ah! Here it is.” He came up with 2001 Useful Phrases in Modern Swedish and scraped half a jelly doughnut from the back cover. “Jag tycker om din simskostym, Jolanda — ‘That’s a lovely bathing suit you’re wearing, Jolanda.’”
Sean was so happy for Raymond that he couldn’t stop laughing. “All right, Raymond!” he gasped. “You’re going to Theamelpos. I want you to promise right now that there isn’t going to be another word about how you have no luck! Come on! Say it!”
Raymond’s smile would have lit up the eastern seaboard. “Delancey, the way Jardine feels right now, I swear I’ll never complain about anything again as long as I live!”
Just then the PA system cracked to life. “Your attention, please. This is Coach Stryker. This announcement concerns those students who signed up for the varsity ice hockey
team.”
The smile on Raymond’s face faded to zero. “How’d he find out about that?”
“Would you all please see me in the next few days regarding equipment and uniforms. And make sure you all get a mimeographed copy of our upcoming practice schedule.”
“Hah!” grinned Raymond. “Jardine wins again!” He gestured toward his foot. “I can’t play! I have a broken ankle, thank God! You, Delancey — you have to play as punishment for almost blowing Theamelpos for Jardine! But I’m in a cast until January twenty-sixth!”
Coach Stryker’s voice was heard again. “Oh, yes, our first game will be January twenty-seventh.”
Raymond checked the calendar on his watch, then looked down at his cast. “So much for not having to play.” Then he threw his head back and stared accusingly up at the ceiling.
“That’s right …”
About the Author
GORDON KORMAN is the #1 bestselling author of three books in The 39 Clues series as well as five books in his Swindle series: Swindle, Zoobreak, Framed, Showoff, and Hideout. His other books include This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall! (published when he was fourteen); The Toilet Paper Tigers; Radio Fifth Grade; the trilogies Island, Everest, Dive, Kidnapped, and Titanic; and the series On the Run. He lives in New York with his family and can be found on the web at www.gordonkorman.com.
A Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag Page 20