The BEDMAS Conspiracy

by Deborah Sherman

  “Aside from studying?” asked Daniela.

  My cousin was really irritating me today. “How can I study when I’m trying to write us a championship song?”

  “I have an idea,” said Daniela, “but you’re going to hate it.”

  “Fire away,” I said, defeated.

  “Cut Eldrick’s suspension detention.”

  “Right,” I said sarcastically, “like that will help me manage my time and focus.”

  Daniela had had enough of my tone. “No, dummy. He won’t help you focus on the test, but he will help you pass the test. So far, he’s helped you pass every spelling, science, and history test.”

  “You might have a point,” I conceded reluctantly. “But I have my principles!”

  “Principles-shminciples,” said Daniela. “Who taught you how to spell the word?”

  “He didn’t teach me how to spell the word,” I said stubbornly. “He just taught me a lame rhyme about Principal Losman being my pal.”

  “He taught you how to spell the word,” said Daniela firmly. “He’s already served almost all of his suspension. Just call him and invite him back early.”

  I was close to caving. But then I remembered his song and stubbornly refused.

  “Then go and study!” ordered Daniela.

  It wasn’t as easy as that. Sick on a Snow Day was the first act in J.R. Wilcott’s history to compete in the City Championship. There were a lot of demands on our time. Our local newspaper, the Gazette, wanted to interview us before the competition. We also had a photo shoot. I was just too busy to study.

  And, of course, the City Championship provided a zillion daydreaming opportunities. Staring out the window and thinking about holding that winner’s cheque was way more interesting than going through my math book. It was no contest. Studying was next to impossible.

  Everything in my life was going at full speed. School, the City Championship, tricking the school into thinking I had a cute, Swedish cousin: It was too much. The algebra test was the next day. The band knew I was in trouble, but tried to pretend everything was okay.

  We had just finished practicing a new song in our repertoire. It was another one of Sludge’s masterpieces.

  “Have you given a copy of the music to Eldrick?” asked Daniela. “He needs a chance to rehearse, too.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I went by his place a few days ago and we went over the song. He knows it inside and out!” Sludge enthused. “The little guy can play everyone’s part. And I mean everyone’s part,” he added carefully.

  “That was a good idea,” said Beena.

  “Really good,” sighed Meena.

  “I hope you understand,” Sludge said uncomfortably. “I just thought we should have our bases covered. Just in case...”

  I nodded wordlessly. The thought of being out of Sick on a Snow Day made me slightly sick, myself. But I understood. A shadow was cast over the room. Everyone knew math was my weakest subject. Daniela nervously twisted her blond wig.

  “Let’s not get all doom-and-gloom just yet,” suggested Beena. “How bad can it be?”

  “I’ve tried studying every night,” I told them. “But, you know what? It just seems like if it’s not one of our songs, it’s not sticking in my head. I’ve gone over the chapter ten times, but it’s just not working. These days, the only notes in my head are musical notes. I don’t have room for anything else.”

  “Study hard tonight and maybe you’ll pull it off,” said Sludge half-heartedly.

  The Z’s nodded dejectedly. I tried to smile but my face felt frozen. Beside me was the math text book. It looked three times bigger than it had a few minutes ago. I blinked and looked again. Somehow it had gotten even bigger! I forced myself to look away.

  I looked Daniela in the eye. “I’m desperate. I’ll give anything a shot.”

  She knew what I meant. “Eldrick. Let’s call him and see if he can help.”

  Minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door and Eldrick appeared. I was pretty sure Eldrick lived on the other side of the block. He must have sprinted to get here so quickly.

  “Wow. You were pretty speedy,” I marvelled. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw a look pass among my bandmates.

  “So, the test is on chapter thirteen,” said Eldrick shyly, but jumping right in. “You need to know how to handle equations. What do you do when you have a bunch of numbers and a bunch of signs between them? Do you divide first? Or do you multiply? What about brackets?”

  “I don’t know,” I said dejectedly. “If I knew, I wouldn’t need you.”

  “You need to figure out what to do first. Technically, it’s called order of operations. But we call it BEDMAS.”

  “BEDMAS?” I repeated. That sounded vaguely familiar. Now I remembered Mr. Papernick mentioning it last week when I was busy trying to write some new lyrics. I couldn’t figure out why he was talking about sloppy bedrooms.

  “Brackets, Exponents, Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction. Everything you need to know in the order you need to know it to ace the test,” said Eldrick with more confidence.

  “Sure,” I said doubtfully. “Now I just need to remember all of that.”

  Suddenly Sludge jumped up. “Got it!” he hollered as he accidentally knocked over a drum. “I’ve got it! The BEDMAS Conspiracy. That’s how you’ll remember it!”

  “I like it,” smiled Eldrick. “A lot.”

  I was annoyed that Eldrick knew what Sludge was talking about and I didn’t.

  “The BEDMAS Conspiracy. Our new name,” said Sludge. “Don’t say no until I explain,” he added hastily, looking at the frown on my face. “If it’s the name of our band, there’s no way you can forget it.” I couldn’t argue with that.

  “But won’t people wonder why we suddenly changed our name?” I asked him.

  “Nah, they’ll be too busy wondering what the conspiracy actually is!” laughed Sludge. “And little will they know,” said Sludge lowering his voice to a whisper, “that it also stands for Beena, Eldrick, Daniela, Meena, Adam and Sludge!”

  “I love it,” said Meena

  “Totally,” agreed Beena.

  I had to admit that the name sounded cool. And it would definitely help with the math test.

  “I guess the BEDMAS Conspiracy should get down to work,” I finally agreed. “We need a new song for the championships. Let’s get cracking.”

  “Correction, Cuz. The BEDMAS Conspiracy is definitely going to get cracking—but we’ll be dealing with math instead of music, right Eldrick?”

  “Definitely,” Eldrick answered, more firmly than I might have expected. “Remembering the trick is one thing; applying it is another thing altogether. It’s like music—you’ve got to practice it.”

  The rest of the group looked equally determined.

  “Just think of it as a side project,” said Sludge, grinning. “We’re a band, after all.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but then I realized— they were right. All I had to do was get past this one, last test. And I didn’t want to let my band down.

  “Fine,” I conceded at last. “Pass me a pencil.”

  It was the morning of the test. Butterflies flitted around my stomach. The BEDMAS Conspiracy gave me confidence. My family didn’t.

  “I can fill in for you at the City Championship if you flame out today,” joked Josh.

  “Not funny,” I glared.

  “Enough,” warned my mom. “Adam needs your support if he’s going to get a B in his worst subject.”

  I wished they would all be quiet!

  The Z’s were waiting for me at my locker.

  “Remember: The BEDMAS Conspiracy,” they said together.

  Beena handed me a blue pencil. “My good-luck pencil. Use it.”

  Eldrick was also hanging around my locker. He seemed unsure if he was in my good books or my bad ones.

  “You’ll do fine,” he said as we walked into the classroom.

  Mr. Papernick ordered us to be quiet a
nd then handed out the test. The hour went by in a blur—just like it had when I first got myself into this mess. But this time I knew what I was doing. Mumbling, “The BEDMAS Conspiracy” to myself I tackled each problem. Brackets, Exponents, Division, Multiplication, Addition, and then Subtraction. I looked over at Eldrick. He was also talking to himself. I gained confidence as I worked through each page. The BEDMAS Conspiracy: Beena, Eldrick, Daniela, Meena, Adam, and Sludge. All my friends, rooting for me.

  I flipped to the final page, feeling dizzy with excitement. I was done! The bell rang. The rest of the band was waiting for me at my locker.

  “How’d it go, Cuz?” asked Daniela.

  “I think I did okay. I wish I didn’t have to wait to find out.”

  “Let’s not,” said Sludge.

  He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back into the classroom. Daniela, Eldrick, and the Z’s followed.

  “Mr. P., can you do us a favour and mark Adam’s test right now?” he asked politely. “Our guy really needs to know if he’s still in the band.”

  Mr. Papernick saw the worry on my face. I thought I did well, but I never knew when it came to numbers. He sifted through the stack of tests and removed mine. We hovered around him as he took the lid off his red pen. Right. Right. Wrong. Right. Right. Wrong. His fingers flew as he marked my paper full of checks and crosses. I couldn’t watch. I covered my face with my hands. I could hear the Z’s gasp, let out a little cheer, and then another gasp. The wait seemed forever.

  “Done,” he finally said.

  Moving my index fingers away from my eye, I gave myself a sliver of sight. All I could see was white. Teeth! Mr. Papernick was smiling. I moved a few more fingers. Sludge was smiling. So were Daniela, Eldrick, and the Z’s. I grabbed my test. It was a B with the good type of decorations—a B+!

  “Whoo hoo,” I yelled, punching my fist in the air. “Whoo hoo!”

  “Yes!” bellowed Sludge.

  Daniela and the Z’s hugged. Eldrick stood behind them, smiling shyly.

  “Time for the BEDMAS Conspiracy to celebrate!” I announced to the rest of the band. “Ice cream and pizza on me!” I grabbed my jacket and bag. Nothing was going to stop me today!

  “Adam,” laughed Daniela. “It’s 10 a.m. We’ve still got history, English, geography and music.”

  “Okay, after school. Meet me at my locker. All of us,” I said, looking directly at Eldrick.

  I gave one more whopping whoo hoo before heading off to class. Today was amazing!

  I was still full of whoo hoos when we met after school. The pizza place was just a few blocks away. I found myself walking two steps behind everyone else with Eldrick. Not that I was upset. Today was a great day and I knew how to make it even better.

  “I just want to say thanks for helping,” I told him. “I’m not sure I would have passed this test—all of the tests—without your help.”

  He frowned, “This mess was my fault in the first place—”

  “No, it’s my fault, Eldrick. I was the one who made a cheat sheet in the first place,” I admitted. “If I hadn’t made one, you wouldn’t have picked it up off the floor.”

  Eldrick looked serious. “It’s just...” he stopped and tried to find the right words. “I...I just get really nervous sometimes and dumb things come out of my mouth. It happened when I picked up the cheat sheet and it happened again when I wrote that stupid song.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. “I’ve been carrying this around ever since.”

  It was the song. He handed it to me. “Please, just read it. The whole thing.”

  I took the paper and read his lyrics. Once I got through the first few lines, I realized that it wasn’t half bad. Yes, it started out about cheating, but then it got better. The song was actually about us—the band. All of us were mentioned. Actually, the lyrics were kind of funny. He had even managed to find a rhyme in new friends and tattoo trends.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you with the song, Adam. I just wanted to write something great...but, the harder I try, the more I seem to mess up.”

  For once I really looked at him—this scrawny little guy who everyone thought was a transfer student. His glasses were crooked. His pants were hitched too high and he wore old-man shoes.

  But he had helped me stay in the band. He was a pretty good song-writer and a serious musician. And I couldn’t forget about the Swedish smorgasbord.

  “Any guy who eats stinky cheese for me—without barfing on Janine Stroop’s shoes—can’t be a total mess-up,” I told him smiling. “Let’s go celebrate.”

  The City Championship was being held at Pleasant Bay School. We planned to meet there an hour before the competition, but Daniela was running late. She couldn’t find her wig. My mom helped her search. I was just about to join them in turning Daniela’s room upside down, when Abigail came running to the room.

  “Finished!” she announced. She presented Daniela’s wig—glossy and smooth.

  “I washed and conditioned it for you,” said Abigail proudly. “I used a special deep conditioner to really make it shine.”

  “It smells like lilacs,” smiled Daniela. “Thanks, Abigail.”

  “Let’s go!” yelled Josh from the landing of the stairs.

  We piled into the car. Josh went through a checklist.

  “Keyboard?”

  “Check.”

  “Amplifier?”

  “Check.”

  “Wig?”

  “Check,” said Olaf patting his head.

  We were feeling nervous. My mouth was too dry to say much of anything. Olaf’s hands were shaking. I grabbed them tightly. My dad concentrated on not getting lost. Sludge was waiting for us in the Pleasant Bay parking lot.

  “Hey,” he greeted us. “I’ve been doing a little recon and things are looking good. Everyone’s read the article about us in the Gazette. The BEDMAS Conspiracy is considered the act to beat tonight.”

  Hearing that we were front-runners made me more nervous. There were eight acts in the City Championship—one to represent each district in the city. We had to draw our starting position from a hat. I just hoped we didn’t have to go first. Olaf was the first to draw. Hands shaking, he reached into the hat and drew the eighth spot.

  “Saving the best for last,” crowed Sludge. “It doesn’t get more awesome than this!”

  Unlike Wilcott’s Got Talent and the District Donnybrook, the City Championship had judges. It was still the audience who decided the ultimate winner, but three judges sat on a panel, offering feedback after each act.

  Eldrick, the Z’s, Sludge, Olaf, and I huddled together offstage to watch the competition unfold. The show started with a little presentation from last year’s winner, a rock band called No Looking Back. They didn’t seem all that happy to be back at the City Championship, but they managed to play a song and tell everyone how they had spent their prize money.

  “Buying a ticket out of this town,” mumbled their lead singer. The rest of the band nodded.

  It was show time! First up was an acrobatic dance pack from McKelvin Middle School. Their name was Flying High, and it fit them perfectly. They flew through the air, doing backflips and handsprings. When they weren’t airbound, they tumbled around the stage in perfect unison. The judges loved Flying High and they got a standing ovation.

  Next up was Metal Mouth: A Tribute to Braces. The judges put cotton balls in their ears. Metal Mouth played loud and fast. Their song, “Don’t Call Me Brace Face,” was a killer.

  “Dude, they play with passion,” said Sludge with admiration.

  Surprisingly, Metal Mouth’s second offering was a ballad. Although “The Teeth That Lie Beneath” was sung in barely more than a whisper, it managed to silence the crowd.

  “Those are some personal lyrics,” said Olaf, awestruck.

  It was the first thing he had said in over an hour—a good sign that he hadn’t gone hoarse with fear. Metal Mouth finished their set by rocking the house with �
��You’ll Be Sorry When They’re Off in Nine Months.” Though the judges weren’t won over, Metal Mouth also received a standing ovation. They dropped their instruments and ran to the front of the stage. Grabbing hands, they took and bow and flashed their metallic grins.

  Metal Mouth was followed by a ventriloquist named Barry. He came out on stage with a wooden doll named Harry. Barry sat on a chair. Harry sat on his knee. Harry began to tell a few jokes. The jokes themselves weren’t so impressive, but the fact that Barry’s lips were drawn as tight as a pencil was. Later, Harry sang a song—while Barry drank a glass of milk! Barry and Harry made a good pair.

  Two hip-hop dance crews and a classical pianist followed Barry and his wooden sidekick. They received good feedback from the judges and had the crowd on their feet.

  “Everyone is killing it tonight,” marvelled Sludge.

  “Next up is a hypnotist,” said Eldrick. “I bet he turns someone into a monkey.”

  A gangly guy carrying a large pocket watch took the stage.

  “I’m Gary and I go to Jackson Prep,” he told the audience.

  “I bet he’s good,” whispered Daniela. The kids who went to the private school were known to be fiercely competitive.

  He was very good. First, Gary turned a gym teacher into an opera singer. Next, he turned two teenagers into little babies. All it took was a few swings of the watch and presto—both kids were crawling on their knees and cooing. One of them stopped to suck his thumb. The audience ate it up!

  “Now I’m going to choose someone in the audience and turn them into a farm animal,” announced Gary confidently. A hundred arms shot up in the audience. A murmuring of pick me travelled through the crowd.

  “Huh,” said Eldrick. “I never knew so many people were interested in experiencing the life of a cow or pig.”

  “Who should I pick?” mused Gary as he scanned the audience. He seemed to have difficulty choosing a volunteer, even though he had the whole room to choose from. Suddenly he looked off stage—right at Sludge.