The League of Unexceptional Children--The Kids Who Knew Too Little

by Gitty Daneshvari

  “I have a plan,” Jonathan interrupted.

  “You have a plan? And you kept it from me? Charl I understand, but me? Shelltastic? I’m your partner in crime, only not crime, the opposite, actually.… Is spying the opposite of crime? Not really… I’d say it’s more like justified criminal behavior.…”

  “This is the one time they have their masks off, right? When they’re sleeping,” Jonathan said, prompting Carl and Shelley to nod. “We need to mark the girls’ cloaks in some way so we can identify them later.”

  Carl smiled. “Like with gold stars?”

  “Do you have gold stars on you?” Shelley asked.

  “No, but I’m kind of obsessed with them since I’ve never gotten one before. That’s where my nickname comes from, ‘Carl-no-star.’”

  “We definitely can do better than that. I’m thinking Spots. What do you say, Khaki?”

  “Wax.”

  “You want to call him Wax? Like earwax?”

  “No, I want to use wax to mark the girls’ cloaks,” Jonathan said as he removed a white candle from the sconce on the wall.

  “What if someone wakes up?” Carl asked.

  “Jump on top of them and cover their face with a pillow,” Shelley said before pausing. “Actually, that might hurt them, and if they’re hurt…”

  “They can’t testify,” Jonathan interjected.

  “That and, of course, we would have to add violent hooliganism to our résumé, which is an extracurricular not everyone understands,” Shelley finished sarcastically.

  Jonathan pulled out the sketch of the girls’ faces and quietly made his way into the room. Peering from bed to bed, he quickly noted that everyone was sleeping on their backs, arms folded across their chests. One by one, they searched, all the while hoping that no one would wake up. Sleep, they thought, please just stay asleep. Nearing the back of the room, Jonathan threw his arm in the air, silently signaling the other two to come over. It’s her, Jonathan mouthed as he pointed to one of the two girls in the sketch and then the bottom bunk.

  Shelley looked at the girl and nodded. That was definitely her. Jonathan dribbled hot wax along the hem of her long cloak as she slept. Once finished, he looked up at the top bunk and smiled—they had found the other girl. Desperate to be part of the action, Shelley grabbed the candle from Jonathan’s hand and started up the ladder. However, finding it difficult to climb with one hand, she popped the long white candle between her teeth just like she had once seen an actor do with a knife in a film she could only vaguely remember. What is that? What is that terrible smell? Ahh! No! Burning! My hair’s on fire! Shelley dropped the candle as she frantically slapped her head to put out the flames. Having let go of the ladder, she crashed to the floor with a thud, a loud thud. Jonathan picked up the candle, still burning, blew it out, and then did the only thing he could think of—he hid under the bed.

  “Ugh, uh,” the girl on the lower bunk moaned as she slowly woke up. “What was that?”

  Looking around, Shelley suddenly realized that she was the sole member of the team out in the open, like a deer in the middle of a field during hunting season. As expected, Carl was nowhere to be found, but Jonathan? Where was Jonathan? Squeezed beneath the bottom bunk, he frantically motioned for Shelley to join him.

  “Carol! Carol!” the girl on the lower bunk whispered. “Something’s burning!”

  Shelley slid under the bed next to Jonathan and covered her head with her sweatshirt in an effort to conceal the burned smell. This is it, Shelley thought, my hair is going to bring us all down!

  “Glenda? What’s the matter?” the girl from the top bunk whispered, hanging her head over the edge.

  Staring at the lower bunk across from them, Shelley squinted, tilted her head, and then squinted some more. It couldn’t be, she thought, Carl wasn’t that dumb. And so she removed her glasses, carefully cleaned them with the bottom of her shirt, and then slipped them back on. But she could still see Carl stretched out next to the girl on the lower bunk. Who hides in the bed of one of the very people they are hiding from? Carl, that’s who!

  Shelley pointed to the bed across from them, but so good was Carl at blending that at first Jonathan didn’t see him. It was only when the boy moved that Jonathan realized what he was looking at. No, no, no! Jonathan mouthed to Shelley.

  “Something’s burning,” Glenda whispered to Carol. “Can’t you smell it?”

  “Maybe Harold got a bagel stuck in the toaster again?”

  “Should we go yell at him?” Glenda suggested.

  “I’m exhausted.…” Carol replied.

  “Too exhausted to yell at Harold? That’s your favorite hobby.”

  “Yelling at Harold isn’t a hobby,” Carol explained. “It’s my duty. The boy needs to toughen up. I saw him carrying a spider outside yesterday; you would have thought it was a baby the way he was fussing over it.… I had no choice but to squash the thing.…”

  NOVEMBER 1, 3:30 P.M. HALL. THE ORDER OF MERIUM

  After an hour, the girls finally fell back to sleep, allowing for Jonathan, Shelley, and Carl to crawl out of the sleeping quarters and into the hallway.

  “We made it,” Jonathan muttered as he collapsed on the floor of the corridor next to Shelley.

  But his head had only just touched down on the threadbare carpet when Shelley muttered, “Harold!”

  Frantically dusting the walls as he walked, the pudgy boy was fast approaching.

  “There’s nowhere to hide,” Jonathan said as he looked around at the unusually barren section of the hall.

  “I’m on it,” Carl said as he dove on top of Jonathan and Shelley, covering them and blending into the carpet.

  Ouchhhhhhh!!!! Jonathan thought as Carl’s elbow smashed into his face. His eyes watered and his teeth clenched from the searing pain, but he didn’t make a sound. For always buzzing just beneath the surface was the cold, hard truth—his parents’ lives were hanging in the balance.

  “Harold is one lousy housekeeper,” Shelley mumbled once the boy had disappeared down the corridor. “The hallway’s actually dustier than before!”

  Covering his left eye with his hand, Jonathan took a deep breath and reminded himself that the pain would soon stop.

  Carl squatted next to Jonathan and smiled. “What happened?”

  “You elbowed me!”

  “I did?”

  “Somehow you always seem to injure me,” Jonathan grumbled as a vague idea took shape in his mind.

  How was it that Carl always managed to hurt Jonathan? Was he just a clumsy kid? Or could there be something more to it, something deliberate even? Don’t be ridiculous, Jonathan told himself. What do you know about sizing people up? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Jonathan pictured himself seated at the back of a classroom in a plain white T-shirt and khaki slacks. He was a boring, middle-of-the-road kid. The beige minivan of humans. Jonathan sighed a long and hearty sigh when a picture of the vice president of the United States flashed through his mind. Jonathan had helped save this man. That’s right! He wasn’t a beige minivan, not anymore. He was a red sports car, and red sports cars trusted their instincts.

  Jonathan watched Carl closely. “How long did you say you’ve known Hammett again?”

  “I didn’t say.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me,” Jonathan responded.

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “Johno,” Shelley interrupted. “What’s going on?”

  But Jonathan didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on Carl.

  “Johno, tell me, I’m your partner!”

  “Carl’s a plant… sent to derail me and this mission.”

  NOVEMBER 1, 3:49 P.M. HALL. THE ORDER OF MERIUM

  “A plant?” Carl repeated. “Like a fern? Or a cactus?”

  “No!” Jonathan answered. “An agent sent to sabotage me… maybe even take me down?”

  “I’m definitely not trying to take you down, although I have taken someone down before.”

  “What?!” Shelley
reacted.

  Carl nodded. “It was awful, just awful.”

  “What happened?”

  “I accidentally locked my little brother outside during a snowstorm.”

  “And he froze to death?” Shelley asked before covering her mouth.

  “My brother? No, but his imaginary friend Elvis did.… He’s never forgiven me… even after all these years.”

  “Your brother had an imaginary friend named Elvis who froze to death in a storm?” Shelley repeated.

  Carl nodded. “We wanted to have a funeral for Elvis, bury him in the yard next to Spot, our Dalmatian, but as so often happens with imaginary friends, we couldn’t find the body.”

  Jonathan stared intently at Carl. Was this a performance? Was acting like a clumsy weirdo his cover?

  “You’re strange,” Shelley said to Carl. “Really strange. I’m actually kind of jealous.”

  “How do you know it’s not an act?” Jonathan whispered in Shelley’s ear, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the spotted boy.

  “Would you excuse us for a second, Charl?” Shelley said as she pulled Jonathan a few feet away. “Johno, as you know, paranoia is my middle name, except that it’s not on my birth certificate, nor has anyone ever called me Shelley Paranoia.… My point is, I understand why you’re worried… because I spend a lot of time worrying about things that aren’t actually happening… like aliens landing on Earth and befriending everyone but me.…”

  “I’m serious, Shells. What do we know about this kid?”

  “I know he’s not a plant.”

  “How can you know that for sure?” Jonathan pressed Shelley.

  “If there’s one thing I can do, it’s recognize a fellow underachiever.”

  “Maybe he’s a great actor.”

  “No, Johno,” Shelley stated firmly. “Carl’s not a plant, he’s just a really bad spy, even by our standards. If he were a plant, he would have taken us out by now.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Jonathan acquiesced. “There’s just so much on the line.… We can’t fail… not this time.”

  “You see these?” Shelley said, pointing to her shoulders. “Let me help you. Let me be your emotional backpack… a stylish one, a designer emotional backpack.…”

  “Thanks, Shells,” Jonathan said before looking around. “We need to find a hiding place, somewhere with a good view of the garden.”

  “Why the garden?” Shelley asked.

  “Have you even looked in your copy of How to Make Great Popcorn in the Microwave?”

  “Of course I have,” Shelley answered. “Only I’ve forgotten every single thing I read, so if you could give me the CliffsNotes, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Come on, Shells,” Johno said before releasing a long and audible sigh.

  “Don’t you dare sigh at me, Johno! I deserve better than that! I’m your friend! I’m the life of the party… the party I wasn’t even invited to because very few people remember that I exist… even though they should, because I spend a huge amount of time putting my life on the line to keep their country safe, when I could just as easily be at home watching videos about how to hypnotize people with nothing but a spoon, a deck of cards, and a Taser.… What was my point again?”

  “I have no idea,” Jonathan responded before returning to his plan. “The book says there’s a bonfire every day at sundown in the garden. The girls will be there.”

  Shelley snapped her fingers. “The tower things on the corners! We can watch from there!”

  “The turrets,” Jonathan said. “Shells, that’s actually a good idea!”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I have a lot of good ideas; they’re just buried beneath terrible ones, so you have to be patient… but as the saying goes, The patient who’s patient gets to live.…”

  Jonathan shook his head. “That’s not a saying.”

  “I just made it up.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Thank you,” Shelley offered with a smile. “This is the kind of moment that makes me happy to be me!”

  “I’d be happy to be you too, Shelley,” Carl jumped in.

  “Don’t get creepy, Charl. You know I hate creepy… unless you’re a cat. Cats are allowed to be creepy.… It’s in the Constitution.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “As if Khaki’s ever read the Constitution.”

  “I’ve never read the Constitution, but I can assure you that our Founding Fathers did not put in anything about cats.”

  “Clearly a dog guy,” Shelley muttered under her breath. “Me? I’m more of a Dr. Dolittle.… All animals love me… especially ones who don’t rely on me to eat… because I sometimes forget to feed them… but in a loving way.… Did I mention I’m a part-time vegetarian?”

  “Maybe you’d be better off with invisible pets,” Carl suggested. “That’s what we have at home. I get a new one every year for my birthday.”

  Shelley smiled. “What a genius way to get out of spending money. Invisible gifts!”

  “I hate to interrupt,” Jonathan huffed, “but I feel like now might be a good time to remind you both that my parents are sitting in a cell at the CIA.”

  “That’s right,” Carl replied, nodding. “I couldn’t remember why we were here, but I was afraid to ask because sometimes you look really mean.”

  “Did I mention that the evidence is stacked against them? That their future looks pretty bleak?”

  “No, you didn’t,” Shelley answered before shaking her head. Darn those rhetorical questions; they get me every time!

  “My parents are probably going to spend the rest of their lives locked up. Do you know what that means? Every second of every day, I will know that as I walk free, they are behind bars for a crime they didn’t even know they were committing.”

  Shelley grabbed Jonathan’s hand. “We won’t let that happen.”

  “Maybe Carl’s right,” Jonathan supposed. “Maybe unexceptionals have really bad plans? Maybe we shouldn’t be trusted?”

  “Really, Johno? You’re choosing now to start listening to Charl?!”

  “The h is silent, remember?”

  “Yes, Charl, I remember!”

  “I’m scared we can’t do this, Shells.… I’m really scared this time.…” Jonathan admitted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

  “I’m scared, too,” Shelley admitted.

  “You are?” Jonathan replied.

  “But not of failing this mission. I’m scared of being the old Shelley again. The Shelley whose only excitement came from daydreaming. The Shelley whose greatest claim to fame was keeping a goldfish alive… which actually is impressive.… I can’t tell you how many I had to flush before Zelda… and by flush, I mean bury in the backyard.… Pets deserve burials, even small pets that fit down the toilet. Maybe I should start a campaign to bring dignity back to the goldfish.… DIG A HOLE, DON’T FLUSH.* *Full disclosure: If you have dogs, they will most likely dig up the corpses, eat them, regurgitate them, then eat them again.…”

  “Weren’t you trying to make him feel better?” Carl interrupted.

  “That’s what I just did,” Shelley answered, her glasses hanging from the tip of her nose. “It’s called comforting a friend.”

  “You can call it that, but that’s definitely not what it is.”

  “Don’t mess with me, Charl,” Shelley said as she grabbed hold of his shirt. “I don’t know karate, or any kind of martial art, for that matter… although sometimes when I’m alone I whisper the word tae kwon do for reasons I can’t quite explain… but trust me when I say I’ll take down anyone who tries to come between me and my bestie… and by bestie, I mean best friend… not the best spy… because we’re equals… or maybe I’m a little better, not that I tell Johno that since we’re best friends and all.”

  “I wish you’d let go of my shirt. I’d really like to disappear right about now.”

  Jonathan closed his eyes and whispered, “Me too, Carl. Me too.”

  NOVEMBER 1,
7:45 P.M. TURRET. THE ORDER OF MERIUM

  An orange glow emanated from the garden. Flames leaped from the bonfire, sparks dancing away into the night. The black sky, peppered with faint stars, loomed. A strong breeze swept through the garden, spreading the thick scent of the flowering trees. There was a tranquility to the moment and for one brief second Jonathan and Shelley forgot where they were and delighted in their surroundings.

  “I always wanted to go to camp. Sing songs, make lifelong friends,” Shelley said from their perch in the turret overlooking the garden. “Camp Lakawanna forever!”

  “Camp Lakawanna?” Jonathan repeated.

  “That’s the name of my imaginary camp. Sylvia and Lucy are my best friends; we’ve known each other since we were five. We met singing around the bonfire. One day when we’re older with lots of money, we’re going to get matching pinkie rings.”

  “I think you spend far too much time with imaginary people,” Jonathan said as a sea of voices began chanting below.

  “Occulta potentia in umbra. Occulta potentia in umbra…”

  One by one, figures cloaked in long velvet robes and red masks marched from the house to the garden. Moving slowly, each stride long and smooth, they encircled the fire pit.

  “Occulta potentia in umbra. Occulta potentia in umbra.”

  “What does that mean?” Jonathan wondered aloud.

  “Kill all intruders… unless they’re short and cute with glasses?” Shelley suggested.

  Carl stepped forward, touching both Jonathan and Shelley on the shoulder. “It’s Latin for ‘In darkness lies power.’”

  “Hold the phone… Charl speaks Latin? And to think my mother told me that ‘Life is like a box of chocolates; you always know what you’re going to get—chocolate.’”

  “That’s not the saying,” Jonathan said, shaking his head. “Never mind! Carl speaks Latin?”

  Carl smiled, exposing his bright white teeth.

  “Those are some seriously pearly teeth,” Shelley remarked. “I’m going to need the name of your dentist at a later date.”