by Tim Harris
About the Book
Vex is gone! We have to find him.
But how? He could be anywhere.
We’ll have to track him down.
That’s impossible.
Not if we work together!
The class in room 12B are in trouble. Can they find Vex before it’s too late?
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
The Students of Room 12B
Introducing
A Letter from Vex
Double-Digit Idiot
Is There Something in Your Eye?
Totes Notes
One Dollar Empire
Apps and Taxis
Conversations with Canteen Carol
Workshops and Bike Shops
Chatterbox Gabby
Talking and Listening
Fifteen Ridiculous Uses for a Fake Moustache
Dog Tracks
Destructor Conductor
Friday Morning Tension
How to Open a Locked Door
Found!
The Runaway
The Indian Spark-Maker Beetle
Toffle Towers
Sneak Peek
Books by Tim Harris
Imprint
Read more at Penguin Books Australia
Mr Bambuckle and Miss Frost were two remarkably different teachers. Their outlook on education – and life in general – was polar opposite. While Mr Bambuckle valued learning, individuality and fun, Miss Frost was far more concerned with discipline, procedures and efficiency.
On the final morning of school camp, a letter found in the empty tent of a runaway student had divided the teachers’ opinions. And, as is often the case when opposites are put together, things got tense.
Mr Bambuckle, mentor of the students in room 12B, stood to one side of the smouldering camp fire. He whistled a bright tune, his mood as light as the morning breeze. He knew the missing student, Vex, was experiencing something quite significant. Miss Frost, on the other hand, smirked cruelly as she studied the letter.
The students sat on logs that surrounded the fire. They were exhausted by the camp’s activities, and nervous about the imminent showdown between the two teachers.
‘There’s something magical about the crisp country air,’ said Mr Bambuckle, retrieving a cup of coffee from one of the inside pockets of his jacket. ‘It’s been a rather splendid camp, and I should think the students are ready to return to school.’
Miss Frost folded the piece of paper. The diamond bobby pin in her hair glinted. ‘There’s no time for caffeine,’ she whispered icily. ‘Not when you’re about to be fired. I’ve been looking forward to this moment, and I’ve got you right where I want you.’
The students gasped. The assistant principal was clearly not beating around the bush.
‘Fired?’ said Mr Bambuckle calmly. ‘On what grounds would that be?’
‘Probably the camp grounds,’ said Slugger Choppers, a large boy who was known more for his size than his wit.
‘He means on what terms,’ said Albert, correcting his classmate.
‘During school term,’ said Slugger.
‘Silence!’ said Miss Frost. ‘Your foolish teacher knows exactly why he’ll be dismissed. Vex Vron has run away – it’s right here in the note – and there is a heavy penalty for educators who cannot supervise the children under their care.’
Mr Bambuckle, as only he could do under such circumstances, chuckled. ‘You are quite right, dear Miss Frost. It seems Vex has run away from camp, which is a most serious matter.’
‘Then why are you laughing?’
‘Because,’ said Mr Bambuckle, ‘I do believe Vex is discovering a thing or two about himself … and having a jolly good time in the process.’
‘This is nonsense! You give me no other choice but to inform the principal,’ said Miss Frost. Her breath misted up the morning air. ‘Mr Sternblast will fire you on the spot.’
‘I can’t see any spots,’ said Slugger. ‘I thought he was going to get fired on the camp grounds … during school term.’
‘She means terminate his contract immediately,’ said Albert.
‘Termites on his contract?’ said Harold McHagil, who was occasionally hard of hearing. ‘I didn’t know termites ate paper.’
‘Be quiet, silly children,’ said Miss Frost, swiping open her mobile phone. ‘I must call the principal.’
Mr Bambuckle sipped his coffee. ‘You may want to reconsider speaking with Mr Sternblast.’
Miss Frost narrowed her grey-blue eyes. ‘And why would I do that?’
‘To keep your job, of course,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if you got fired. You’re simply too much fun!’
Miss Frost knew enough about Mr Bambuckle’s mysterious ways to hesitate. Despite his whimsical, carefree nature, he was renowned for his cleverness. She lowered the phone. ‘Explain yourself.’
‘For someone who loves protocols as much as you do, I’m surprised you haven’t considered section 17-M of the staff handbook.’
Miss Frost’s legs turned to jelly for the briefest of moments. She regained her composure and looked at the teacher, speechless.
Mr Bambuckle continued. ‘As you’re well aware, Miss Frost, section 17-M of the staff handbook states that executive members of staff shall bear full responsibility when present at excursions and camps.’
If it were possible for Miss Frost’s pale complexion to become whiter, it would have done so at that precise time.
The students watched their beloved teacher, waiting for him to elaborate.
‘I do believe,’ continued Mr Bambuckle, ‘that you are an executive member of staff – the assistant principal. And as this is a camp, Mr Sternblast would no doubt hold you accountable for Vex’s disappearance. It would be you who lost your job, not me.’
The facts stabbed Miss Frost like an invisible sword. How could she forget such an important rule? She wobbled backwards and slumped on a log between Victoria Goldenhorn and Evie Nightingale.
‘That was Scarlett’s seat,’ said Evie quietly. ‘Until you expelled her, that is … But it’s okay, you can sit there if you like.’
‘Kindly get Miss Frost a drink, dear Slugger,’ said Mr Bambuckle, changing the topic. He knew it would be unhelpful to dwell on the fact that Scarlett had been expelled the day before. ‘I should think a sip of Himalayan tea would do Miss Frost a world of good.’
For the first time in her ambitious career, Miss Frost was at the mercy of the rules she so dearly cherished. If news got back to Mr Sternblast that a student had run away from camp, she would be held accountable, and it would most certainly spell the end of her time in the teaching profession. She was trapped and she knew it.
While Evie had experienced great torment at the hands of Miss Frost, her time with Mr Bambuckle had taught her the value of kindness. She put an arm around the shell-shocked woman and patted her on the back.
Only Mr Bambuckle noticed a single strand of Miss Frost’s silver hair turn amber at Evie’s touch.
Slugger handed Miss Frost a steaming cup of tea. ‘I hope you like it,’ he said. ‘I brewed it myself – teacher taught me.’
Mr Bambuckle cleared his throat. ‘Dear Miss Frost, you have no need to fear for your job.’
Still stunned, Miss Frost managed a sip of tea. ‘And why is that?’
‘In room 12B we value loyalty. Vex will be found before word gets back to Mr Sternblast. Your position at the school is quite safe.’
‘But what about his parents?’ said Miss Frost. ‘They will contact the school the second Vex doesn’t return
home on time. You can’t keep something like this quiet.’
‘I wouldn’t think so,’ agreed Mr Bambuckle. ‘But fear not! The situation has already been taken care of. I adjusted the return-to-school date on Vex’s permission note, buying him an extra two days. His parents believe he’s not due home until Friday afternoon and, as you know, today is Wednesday.’
Miss Frost stood abruptly, startling Evie. ‘You broke the rules!’
‘Not in the slightest,’ said Mr Bambuckle, with a smile. ‘I simply bent them. Nothing good comes from a broken rule. Bent rules, however, can lead to rather satisfying events.’
Miss Frost blinked a few times.
‘What I mean by this,’ continued Mr Bambuckle, ‘is that Vex’s disappearance will only bring about good. The rules were bent to help the boy.’
Miss Frost was horrified. ‘You knew he would disappear all along?’
‘I know everything,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘It’s true,’ said Albert.
Mr Bambuckle’s blue suit shimmered in the morning light. ‘There is a clear path forward from here. You don’t want to lose your job, and we can’t let Mr Sternblast find out about the situation with Vex.’
‘What do you propose?’ said Miss Frost.
‘That we work together,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘Help us find Vex before Friday afternoon.’ He stepped around the camp fire and offered his hand.
Miss Frost stared at his hand, then at the children. They looked back at her with expectant smiles. It was clear their teacher had given them hope, and this was not something she was familiar with.
Mr Bambuckle extended his arm further. ‘Will you help us find Vex?’
Miss Frost found herself doing something she never would have dreamed of, and took Mr Bambuckle’s hand. A deal had been struck.
Mr Bambuckle couldn’t help but notice as a second strand of Miss Frost’s silver hair turned a rich amber. He watched intently. As he did, his pet blue jay, Dodger, flew from a branch of a nearby tree and perched on his shoulder. The bird too, it seemed, had detected a change in the assistant principal.
‘I have a question,’ said Ren Rivera, a girl who liked to solve mysteries. ‘How are we going to find Vex?’
Mr Bambuckle grinned. ‘The letter, of course. Vex was kind enough to leave us some clues. Miss Frost, would you please?’
The assistant principal handed over the folded note.
‘A most wonderful letter,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘I’m rather pleased with Vex’s honesty. He’s come a long way.’
Miss Frost was not so positive. ‘Didn’t you read it properly? He said he is going to text his mother. She’ll panic and contact the school. This will get back to Mr Sternblast very soon, if it hasn’t already, and I’ll lose my job.’
‘It would be wise to have faith in the greater plan,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘And for this, you will need to trust in me. I have an inkling Vex’s text message will not get through.’
Miss Frost shook her head in bewilderment. ‘My entire career rests on the gut feeling of a madman.’
Slugger collected Miss Frost’s empty teacup. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Our teacher is a bit of a genius. Everything will work out.’
The students carried their luggage to the yellow school bus and boarded quietly. Though it wasn’t the sort of quiet one might expect to hear before a big exam, or in a detention room. It was the sort of quiet that fills a concert hall before the main act takes stage. Their teacher was up to his old tricks, and the students couldn’t wait to find out what he had in store.
Miss Frost packed her car and started the engine.
‘Drive safely and we’ll see you back at school,’ called Mr Bambuckle. ‘Oh, and please don’t worry about the text message. Everything will be fine.’
Miss Frost was quick to visit room 12B later that morning. Now that everyone had returned safely from camp, she was determined to ensure her head be kept off the chopping block. Mr Sternblast would demand a camp report, and the news of Vex’s disappearance couldn’t be leaked.
‘We need a plan,’ she said. ‘How will we locate the boy?’
‘Transport should be the first focus,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘We’ll need to send out small search parties to follow the clues.’
‘What type of transport?’ said Miss Frost.
‘Taxi,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘There’s a wonderful pick-up point around the corner from the school. Mr Sternblast would be none the wiser.’
‘You must be out of your mind,’ hissed Miss Frost. ‘Taxis cost the earth.’
Myra Kumar raised a tentative hand.
‘What is it, Lyla?’ said Miss Frost.
‘It’s Myra … I could raise some funds for the cabs. I’m good with numbers, especially when it comes to making money.’
Miss Frost shook her head. ‘You’re only a child. What could you possibly do to help?’
Mr Bambuckle winked at Myra. ‘I believe in you,’ he said, just loud enough for her to hear.
Miss Frost glared at the students. ‘The principal will be here any moment. If anyone gives even the slightest hint – accidental or not – that Vex has run away, I will personally make sure they join Charlotte Bees on the expelled list.’
‘What fun we’re having,’ said Mr Bambuckle, who was flipping two hamburger patties in his self-heating frypan. ‘Though I must correct you – it’s Scarlett Geeves, not Charlotte Bees, and she’s –’
‘Enough of the tomfoolery,’ said Miss Frost. Her chilling tone silenced the chatter that had arisen at the mention of Scarlett’s name. The assistant principal had been given a second chance, so she was protecting it the only way she knew how: strict control.
Right on cue, Mr Sternblast burst into the room. ‘I demand a report on camp,’ he barked. With that, he gave Miss Frost an expectant look.
Miss Frost coolly opened a folder and handed it to Mr Sternblast. ‘You’ll find all of the outcomes have been met.’
Mr Sternblast’s moustache trembled. He looked as though he’d been given an empty cup when he asked for a drink. ‘This is it?’
A brief silence followed.
‘Aside from the expulsion, there was just … one incident,’ said the assistant principal.
The students wriggled nervously at their desks. What would Miss Frost say? They began to wonder if Mr Bambuckle’s deal with her was the right thing to do after all.
‘Do tell,’ said Mr Sternblast, licking his lips.
Miss Frost pointed at Slugger. ‘As you may recall, I phoned from camp to inform you that Chugger Droppers was caught with unregulated scissors.’
‘A horrible crime,’ said Mr Sternblast, turning to the final page in the folder. His balding head glowed like a hot iron.
Slugger gulped.
‘It is unacceptable to carry incorrect scissors, Mr Choppers,’ growled the principal. ‘Come straight to my office at the end of the day and I’ll –’
‘I must interject,’ said Miss Frost. ‘The situation was dealt with at camp.’
Mr Sternblast closed the folder. ‘And?’
‘He was made to write a thousand lines.’
The students couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Slugger was made to do no such thing. Could the assistant principal really be covering for their classmate?
Mr Bambuckle watched as another strand of Miss Frost’s hair changed colour – just below the diamond bobby pin that held her silver bun in place.
Miss Frost winked at Slugger, an act so unnatural for her, it was more of a crooked eyelash flutter.
‘Is there something in your eye?’ asked Slugger.
Carrot Grigson kicked him in the shin.
‘Ouch!’
Carrot leaned close to his friend. ‘There’ll be something in your eye if you don’t play along. This is your chance to get out of detention with Mr Sternblast.’
‘Oh,’ said Slugger, turning to address the principal. ‘Er … yes, my wrist is killing me after writing out all those lines … I’ll nev
er carry the wrong scissors again.’
Mr Sternblast huffed. ‘Be sure of it.’
Miss Frost stopped trying to wink and shot Slugger a cold stare that demanded silence.
‘There’s one final matter,’ said Mr Sternblast.
Mr Bambuckle was so excited he nearly forgot to flip the hamburger patties.
‘There are two new students starting in this class,’ said the principal.
Before he had even finished speaking, two girls – identical twins – stepped into the room.
‘Make them feel welcome,’ said Mr Sternblast, though he didn’t seem to mean it. He was back outside in a flash, yelling at a poor kindergartener who had taken a wrong turn trying to find the bathroom.
Miss Frost followed Mr Sternblast out of the room. She was safe for now.
Mr Bambuckle turned to the new students. ‘Grace Wu and Gabby Wu, we’ve been dying to meet you.’
‘You know our names?’ said the girl on the right.
‘I know everything.’
‘It’s true,’ said Albert, for the second time that day.
The girls wore matching yellow dresses, and their hair was styled so a fringe hung just above their dark eyelashes. They wore knee-high white socks and shiny black shoes. They were impossible to tell apart.
‘I’m Gabby,’ said the girl on the right, ‘and this is Grace. We’re twins. Even though we look the same, we’re quite different. Oranges contain vitamin C.’
The girl on the left waved her hand.
Mr Bambuckle motioned towards his class. ‘These are the children in room 12B and we are all delighted to make your acquaintance. Hamburger?’
‘Our favourite food!’ exclaimed Gabby. ‘How did you know?’
‘I know every–’