The call had been waiting for him when he entered his office. “Mr. Hartley of York Academy, sir,” his secretary had told him. “He seems very upset.”
“Surely, Hartley, you don’t believe that … An empty crate of Fizz-All? How peculiar. What did it do to the water? … That bad, was it? … Now see here, Hartley, my boys went straight to the locker room after that disgusting snub, and straight to the bus after that … No, I do not think the crate got up and walked. I simply cannot understand how you can accuse my boys of sabotaging your pool. There is absolutely no proof … Is that right? Well, why don’t you try drinking some of your pool water. Perhaps it will settle your stomach!”
Angrily he slammed down the receiver and sat for a moment to compose himself. An odd smile crept over his thin face, and he buzzed his secretary on the intercom. “Mrs. Davis, please send for Bruno Walton and Melvin O’Neal immediately.”
* * *
In room 306 of Dormitory 3, Bruno Walton and Boots O’Neal lazed at their desks, picking at their homework. “So you came in fourth,” Bruno was saying. “So what?”
“It’s not that,” Boots muttered miserably.
“You’re afraid we’ll get into trouble for fizzing up their stupid pool?”
“No, that’s not it either,” protested Boots.
“Then what is it? You’ve been sulking ever since we got back to the Hall.”
“It’s nothing — maybe.”
“Will you spit it out?” Bruno demanded.
“Well, you know my dad,” began Boots slowly. “He’s a super athlete. He was even an Olympic swimmer once. Well, he thinks the athletic program at Macdonald Hall isn’t good enough. Lately he’s been thinking about sending me to York Academy.”
Bruno emitted a startled howl of protest. “What? But — but you can’t! You’d be a turkey! A York turkey! You just can’t!”
“I may have to,” said Boots, “if that’s what my folks decide. They know the Hall is the best academic school, but they say there’s more to a guy’s education than just books.”
“But — but you’d play against me on the hockey team!” protested Bruno. “And you’d have to live over there! My new roommate would probably snore!”
“Well, maybe it won’t happen,” Boots offered hopefully.
“You can bet your track shorts it won’t happen,” Bruno snapped, “because we’re going to get a pool for Macdonald Hall!”
“We?” shrieked Boots. “As in you and me?”
“And a lot of other guys.”
“How? The Fish said the budget —”
“Don’t bother me with details. We’re getting a pool and that’s that.”
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Boots opened it and took a note from the office messenger. It read: Bruno Walton and Melvin O’Neal are to present themselves at Mr. Sturgeon’s office immediately.
“That didn’t take long,” Boots commented glumly.
Bruno nodded. “The turkeys must be up to their ears in foam by now. I wonder how The Fish knew it was us.”
“Lucky guess?” Boots grinned, but his expression held a certain dread. “I wonder how mad he is,” he added as they walked down the marble corridor which led to the Headmaster’s office.
Bruno smiled confidently. “Not half as mad as Mr. Heartless and his turkeys,” he said. “Besides, I wanted to see The Fish anyway. There’s a little matter of something lacking around here.”
Boots groaned softly. “Bruno, while he’s bawling us out is no time to start asking for favours.”
“Just leave everything to me,” Bruno assured him.
Mrs. Davis, smiling sympathetically, opened the heavy oak door lettered HEADMASTER and ushered them inside. Automatically they seated themselves on the hard wooden bench that was reserved for boys who had been called to the office under a cloud.
Mr. Sturgeon was not nicknamed “The Fish” merely because of his name. The coldness of his grey eyes was exaggerated by his steel-rimmed glasses, giving him an unblinking, fishy stare. He now turned this look upon Bruno and Boots.
“I don’t suppose I need tell you what happened at York Academy immediately after we left,” he said.
Bruno shifted uncomfortably. “I guess we already know, sir,” he replied.
“That was extremely poor sportsmanship,” the Headmaster went on. “Surely the students of Macdonald Hall know how to lose graciously.”
“I guess, sir, when they refused to shake hands with our team we lost control of ourselves,” Bruno admitted.
“And you just happened to have a crate of Fizz-All with you,” Mr. Sturgeon remarked acidly. “No doubt all swim teams carry mass quantities of stomach remedy with them.” His eyes grew even colder. “You boys took the Fizz-All for the specific purpose of damaging the York swimming pool, didn’t you?”
“Oh, no, sir,” protested Boots in dismay. “That is —”
“Sir,” Bruno interjected earnestly, “Elmer Drimsdale calculates that in five days their pool will be as good as new. You know Elmer is never wrong.”
Mr. Sturgeon coughed. “I am delighted to hear that. I should hate to have to approach your parents with a bill for the repair costs. Because this is your first offence, this year at least, your punishment will be light — one week confined to your room after dinner.”
“Yes, sir,” said Boots. “Thank you, sir.”
“Sir,” said Bruno, “may we speak with you while we’re on the subject of pools?”
“Very well. What is it, Walton?”
“Sir, is there any chance at all that we’ll get a pool?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied the Headmaster, folding his hands in front of him. “We had one planned for this year, but construction costs being what they are, the budget was fifty thousand dollars short. I would like to have one because it would fill a gap in our athletic program and provide some fine recreation. However, these things can’t be helped. There simply is not enough money.”
“Yes, sir,” chorused Bruno and Boots.
“Dismissed,” said Mr. Sturgeon, waving them out.
As they were walking back to their dormitory, Boots could stand his roommate’s silence no longer. “Bruno,” he pleaded, “stop it! I don’t like that look on your face.”
“There’s no look on my face,” insisted Bruno, much too softly. “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”
“About what?” Boots demanded suspiciously.
“About how badly we’ll beat those York turkeys at the next swim meet. Which, incidentally, is going to be held at our pool — a bigger and better one than theirs.”
“Our pool? The Fish just said we aren’t getting one!”
“Yes,” Bruno continued, unheeding. “We’re not taking any more guff from those turkeys, and we’re not losing you — or anybody else, for that matter — to York Academy. We’re going to raise the money.”
“Bruno, you’re talking about fifty G’s!”
“If that’s what it takes, that’s what we’ll get,” Bruno assured him. “Tomorrow morning at breakfast I want you to round up five or six guys — let’s say two from each dorm. We’ll meet at lunch and set ourselves up as a fund-raising committee.”
“But Bruno —”
“Don’t argue with me. You don’t want to be a York turkey, do you?”
“I wasn’t arguing,” replied Boots meekly. “I just want to know who I should pick.”
“Well, let’s see,” said Bruno thoughtfully. “We’ll need Elmer Drimsdale. He’s a genius. And Mark Davies. We may need the print shop. Chris Talbot would be good — we’ll need some art work. And get Wilbur Hackenschleimer in case there’s anything heavy to carry. That should do it.”
“What will you be doing while I’m recruiting?” asked Boots.
“Sleeping in, of course. You know I never get up for breakfast.”
* * *
“Mrs. Davis,” Mr. Sturgeon instructed his secretary, “please notify Mr. Hartley of York Academy that his swimming pool will be
back to normal in five days’ time.” He smiled thinly. “Tell him I have it on the highest scientific authority.”
About the Author
Gordon Korman’s first book, This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall!, was published when he was only fourteen. Since then he has written more than seventy teen and middle-grade novels, including six more books about Macdonald Hall. Favourites include the New York Times bestselling The 39 Clues: Cahills vs. Vespers Book One: The Medusa Plot; Ungifted; Schooled; and the Hypnotist, Swindle and Island series. Born and raised in Canada, Gordon now lives with his family on Long Island, New York.
Q&A with Gordon Korman
Q: What’s the easiest part about writing a book for you?
A: Because I’m such a plotter, endings are where I feel the most in control, since that’s where everything comes together.
Q: What do you find is the most difficult part about writing a book?
A: I have the most trouble with the transition between beginning and middle.
Q: Your books tend to be very action and adventure, or completely hilarious. Do you find one style easier or more fun to write?
A: Right now, I love switching back between a variety of styles — humour, adventure, sports, historical fiction, and then there’s the series The 39 Clues, where I’m part of a team of authors. For a writer, the real enemy is boredom. If you’re bored writing, you write boring.
Q: Is it harder to write humour for middle grade readers, or for teens?
A: Obviously, when you’re writing for a very young audience, all you have to do is mention underwear, and you’ll get laughs. But as your readers get older, the humour has to be more subtle. Also, with a younger crew, simply being funny can function as an end in itself, whereas in the teen world, the humour has to be an organic part of the greater whole.
Q: What’s your writing process like? Do you start with an outline?
A: I’m a big outline guy. I need the beginning, the ending, and a couple of events from the middle before I start writing. Then, as the first draft progresses, more and more details fall into place. By the time I reach the ending, I pretty much know how it should go beat by beat.
Q: Do you prefer the very first draft, with a blank page or computer screen, or do you look forward to revisions? Or going on tour?
A: There’s an immense feeling of satisfaction to finishing a new novel. But I do love going on tour and meeting my readers. I continue to do dozens of school visits every year.
Q: What’s the strangest question you’ve ever gotten from a fan?
A: “Do you prefer discoing or waltzing?” Answer: Neither (I was a mosh-pit guy in my younger days).
Q: What’s a question you’ve never been asked about your books or writing that you’ve always wanted to answer? (And, of course, what’s the answer?)
A: “When are you going to write an important novel?” It’s true that no one has ever finished one of my books and said, “Yep, now I know the meaning of life.” But I do believe that my books are important, because they get kids psyched about reading. Sure, I don’t have a mantle full of Newbery awards, but I have something even more important for a writer — fans, stretching all the way back to the release of my first book in 1978.
Q: Do you have any advice for young writers? What’s the wackiest thing that works for your writing?
A: Ninety-five percent of what I know about writing comes from doing it, so my advice would be to keep on writing. It may not always be fun, but you will continue to get better. And I don’t think this is all that wacky, but I am nuts about backing up my work. When I write something, I save it on my laptop, my desktop, and a flash drive. Then — just in case — I e-mail it to my cell phone and my parents’ computer in Canada.
The Macdonald Hall Series:
This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall!
Go Jump in the Pool
Beware The Fish!
The Wizzle War
The Zucchini Warriors
Lights, Camera, Disaster!
The Joke’s on Us
“This is the darkest hour in the history of Macdonald Hall!”
—Bruno Walton
For the students of Macdonald Hall, there’s nothing worse than losing to York Academy. And until the Hall gets its own pool, those York turkeys will win every swim meet. A pool is out of the question, though: the Hall’s budget is fifty thousand dollars short. School pride is plummeting. There’s even talk of Boots O’Neal’s father transferring him to York Academy.
But Bruno Walton has a brilliant plan. It’s time for the students to take matters into their own hands. How hard can it be to raise fifty grand? A few bake sales, a talent show, a rummage sale … they’ll be there in no time, won’t they?
Won’t they?
“Attention, world! We bring you
The Fish!”
—Anonymous
Macdonald Hall is having a serious cash-flow problem. Everything is being cut back — evening snack is gone, the lab equipment is decrepit and the dorms are freezing at night.
Worst of all, Headmaster Sturgeon is closing Dormitory 3 and moving Bruno Walton and Boots O’Neal in with Elmer Drimsdale, the science geek. There’s even talk of Macdonald Hall being put up for sale.
Could this really be the end for Canada’s finest boarding school?
Please. This is Bruno and Boots we’re talking about, and as always, they have a plan. If they can get some major publicity, score some big media attention, then tons of new students will sign up and the bucks will start rolling in!
The only problem is that the cops are closing in on them …
“You identify the enemy, and then you fight!”
—Bruno Walton
Macdonald Hall is under attack. Where once tradition and freedom of speech ruled the campus, now there is Mr. Wizzle.
That means a dress code — ties, even. Demerit points for just breathing the wrong way. Psychological tests for all students. Surprise dorm inspections. All in the name of progress.
Are the students of the Hall going to stand for it? Not on your life! Wizzle doesn’t stand a chance against The Committee — a secret society of Macdonald Hall loyalists who meet out in the woods, late at night, to plot their revenge.
Whether it takes toilet-paper rolls, a touch of romance, or even an earthquake, it’s unanimous: Wizzle must go!
“Well, football is really a man’s game. No offense, girls. You can be, you know, cheerleaders or something.”
—Bruno Walton
It’s the start of a new school year at Macdonald Hall. But instead of the recreation centre they’d put in for, Bruno Walton and Boots O’Neal are bummed to find a brand-new football field, paid for by Hank the Tank Carson: ex-football player, current zucchini-snack tycoon. The school doesn’t even have a football team.
But Hank the Tank offers the students a deal: if they can put together a winning team, he’ll build them their rec centre. Suddenly on campus, it’s all about football.
Still, the Macdonald Hall Warriors stink. How will they ever get good enough to rate a wide-screen TV and pool tables?
Meet their new star quarterback. Cathy Burton. From Miss Scrimmage’s Finishing School for Young Ladies.
“I never get caught.”
—Bruno Walton
Macdonald Hall has been Chosen. It is Fabulous. Perfect. Ideal — as the set for a Hollywood movie, with superstar Jordie Jones.
Bruno Walton would do anything to be in the movie. Boots O’Neal will do anything to keep Bruno out of trouble. And the girls at the school next door would do anything to meet Jordie Jones.
When they discover that the star just wants to be a normal guy, one who plays hockey, hangs out with friends and goes to dances, Bruno and Boots decide to help Jordie out.
Who would ever have guessed that a favour could go so wrong, so fast? Anyone who knows Bruno and Boots, of course. Because when they’re around, no day is complete without some really special effects.
“It’s no
t spying. It’s surveillance.”
—Bruno Walton
The Macdonald Hall campus is under siege: a practical joker is turning the swimming-pool water blue, dressing up the statue of Sir John A. and sneaking extra soap into the dishwasher. Of course, all fingers are pointed at the usual suspects, Bruno Walton and Boots O’Neal.
But wait — these guys are innocent! And they’re going to have to prove it, before they get expelled.
So who is The Phantom? Is it Mark Davies, the school newspaper editor? Edward O’Neal, Boots’s creepy kid brother? Or, worse yet, could it be Cathy Burton and Diane Grant, their fans and longtime supporters from Miss Scrimmage’s Finishing School across the road?
They’ll have to follow the clues to find out. One feather at a time.
Scholastic Canada Ltd.
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ISBN: 978-1-4431-2801-8
Text copyright © 1978 by Gordon Korman.
Cover art by Jennifer Taylor
Cover design by Tim Hall
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read this e-book on-screen. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Scholastic Canada Ltd., 604 King Street West, Toronto, Ontario M5V 1E1, Canada.
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