Walter Jamison gestured for the kids to be seated. Once they were in their chairs, the head janitor cleared his throat. “Did the principal tell you that I’d recommended detention with the janitors instead of suspension?”
“Yeah,” Daisy answered.
“You should thank me,” Walter replied. “You have become involved with a very dangerous organization. Being with us is the safest place for you right now.”
“Why?” Spencer leaned forward. “So you can poison our brains with your magical experiments?”
Walter Jamison sighed and ran a hand across his bald head. “I need you to inform me of everything that Garth Hadley told you.”
Spencer wanted to resist, but Daisy plunged in. Once she started, she seemed unable to stop. After pouring out the whole story, she folded her arms and glanced at Spencer. He smiled briefly at her, grateful to have the truth out in the open.
“Spencer, Daisy,” Walter Jamison began, his voice low. “I’m afraid you’ve been tricked.”
Chapter 24
“A warlock, actually.”
Tricked?” Daisy shouted, jumping to her feet. “That’s what everyone keeps saying. But how do I know that you’re not lying? The BEM is a government agency—”
“He’s not lying,” Marv said.
“You won’t even tell us your real name!” Spencer said to the head janitor.
“We often use false names to protect ourselves from the enemy,” Walter said. “I have been using the alias of John Campbell for several months now, but I assure you, my real name is Walter Jamison, as you’ve already discovered. Please,” he continued, “allow us to explain.”
He waited for the kids to calm down, then said, “Garth Hadley has filled you full of half-truths in order to make me into an enemy. He wants the hammer and nail for himself.” Walter held up his hand. “I should start at the beginning.” He looked down to gather his thoughts.
“The United States was founded in 1776,” Walter began. Spencer instantly hoped that this speech would have nothing to do with Samurai exile. “But even before the nation was formed, many colonists came from Great Britain.”
“The pilgrims,” Daisy said. “We know.”
“All right. Once the American colonies were thriving and schools were established, a certain threat was discovered. Three types of creatures, or Toxites, began to reside in the schools. Pests of the worst kind. You’ve heard of termites, or dust mites? Well, Toxites are far worse. The winged one is called Rubbish, the furry one Filth, and the slimy one they named Grime.
“Three women spotted the creatures first. Their natural ability to see Toxites marked them as witches. They quickly discerned that, to everyone else, the little pests were invisible. These three witches discovered a correlation between the Toxite population and the learning curve. In other words, if there were more creatures in a school, students did poorly. Determined to fix the problem, the witches set about ridding the schools of Rubbish, Filth, and Grime.”
“How’d they do that?” Daisy asked, her gullible side already absorbed by the story.
“Well,” Walter said, “they tried sweeping them up, but the Toxites were resilient to ordinary brooms. So the witches developed new brooms that enabled them to crush the critters.”
“And let me guess,” Spencer said sarcastically. “Then the witches flew off on their brooms.”
“Exactly. The magic in the Toxites is indestructible. For example, if a Filth is crushed by a witch’s broom, the body turns to dust and the magic goes into the broom that destroyed it. When brooms are powered with Toxite magic, they gain the ability to defy gravity. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” answered Spencer. “I just don’t buy it yet.”
“Let him finish,” Daisy said.
“The witches knew they couldn’t live forever, but they needed to keep the schools Toxite-free. They developed a way to expose other people to the Toxites’ existence. The secret was carried on from generation to generation. When the United States was formed and the country began to expand, the need for Toxite-fighting janitors increased. The Bureau of Educational Maintenance was founded and the secret was kept between those of us in the BEM.”
“Those of us?” Spencer asked. “You’re part of the BEM too?”
“All school janitors are. But only about 50 percent know of the Toxites. You see, the creatures don’t live in high schools. Even some junior high schools are bad environments for them.”
“Why?”
“Many years after the witches, we discovered that the Toxites inhale active brain waves and exhale waves that interfere with the growing mind. They are most dangerous to younger students. In fact, by the time kids reach high school, the Toxites can’t stand to be around them. To the creatures, it would be like breathing in really stinky air compared to the fresh air of the younger schools. It might even make some of them sick.”
There was silence in the storage/office while Daisy and Spencer pondered the prospect of Toxites. Finally, Spencer said, “What does this have to do with Garth Hadley and the bronze hammer?”
“Right,” Walter said. “You’re very on task, Spencer. I like that.” He held up three fingers. “There are actually three bronze hammers, each with a nail. Before dying, the witches transferred their knowledge and power into the hammers. I have Ninfa. Had Ninfa, I should say. Garth Hadley has her now.”
“Why a hammer?” Spencer asked. “It’s not like janitors use hammers for cleaning stuff.”
“Janitors do more than clean things, kid,” Marv said. “If something breaks in the school, who do you think fixes it?” Marv gestured at himself by jabbing a thumb into his chest. “Janitors use hammers all the time.”
“Hammers represent the strength and hard work it takes to build something,” Walter said. “The three witches were the builders and founders of everything magic. They left their legacy and power in the bronze hammers and nails.”
“So, does having the hammer make you a witch?” Daisy asked.
“Well, in my case, a warlock, actually,” Walter Jamison answered. “Witches are women. Currently all three hammers are held by men.”
Daisy glanced at Spencer, her eyes wide. Gullible Gates had no problem accepting the idea that the school janitor was a magic warlock.
“It’s like this.” Marv took over. “Each warlock needs a place to do his experiments. He sets it up by pounding the nail into a building. Once the nail is secure, that building becomes the warlock’s domain—the only place for him to experiment.”
“What are these experiments?” Spencer asked.
“Well, the witches made special brooms to kill Toxites. In our day, the warlocks have developed many new tools to do the job—vacuums and mops, for instance. The three warlocks who hold the hammers receive small shipments of raw magic so they can continue experimenting.”
“But you stole one of the hammers from a warlock and set up your own domain here! Didn’t you?” Spencer stared into Walter Jamison’s hard eyes.
“Yes, I did,” the warlock answered. “I had to. Over a year ago, the BEM started withdrawing support from the schools. They instructed all Toxite-fighting janitors to step down and let the creatures take over. I felt strongly that we should continue our war against Toxites, and many other janitors shared my belief. I was able to steal Ninfa and establish myself as a warlock.
“I worked undercover at an elementary school in Arkansas. As a warlock, I received the shipments of raw magic. I began experimenting and creating equipment to kill Toxites. We started an underground operation, distributing Toxite-fighting supplies to janitors who still wanted to protect the kids.
“Unfortunately, our success betrays us. The harder we work, the more our schools excel. Toxite-free students typically do 75 percent better on tests than students that are exposed to the creatures. That’s the whole
reason the BEM is supposed to exist—to protect education.”
“But the BEM’s given up.” Marv pulled a face, looking as if he wanted to spit. “It’s up to us now. Up to the Rebel Janitors to save education.”
Walter nodded. “We’ve been doing our best to keep Welcher Elementary Toxite-free. The best schools in this nation, the schools where kids can still learn, all have janitors from the Rebel Underground. The BEM is tracking us down and firing us one by one. But most of all, they’ve been looking for me.”
Walter rubbed his forehead. “Now, without the hammer to drive the bronze nail, I can’t set up my magical domain. I can’t experiment. I can’t create new Toxite-fighting equipment. I’m a sitting duck. Now all the BEM has to do is wait. It’s only a matter of time before our equipment breaks down. Once it does, Toxites will run wild with no one to stop them.”
“And if no one controls the Toxites,” Daisy said, “all the kids will get stupid?”
“Education will take an irreversible dive.” Walter leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Imagine a future without education. No one can do math. Businesses are crumbling. No one understands science and industry. Progression is halted, and then gradually gives way to digression. Things break and no one can mend them. The computer gives way to pen and paper, the automobile to the horse. No one can read. Laws are forgotten but weapons are not. No doctors, no police, no teachers. Terror and chaos reign. Disease, invasion, war. A base and futile fight for survival. That is the future the BEM is creating. That is the future without education.”
The image was vivid in Spencer’s mind. It didn’t seem possible that the Bureau of Educational Maintenance could throw the nation into ruin.
“But,” Spencer said, “Mrs. Natcher will teach us. She won’t forget how to read.”
“Teachers will teach,” said Walter, “but the Toxites will be too strong for the kids to learn anything. Once the older generations die, this nation will fall into the hands of today’s uneducated youth.”
Spencer thought of little Max and shivered. By the time his brother was in school, the BEM’s plan would be in full force.
“Why?” Daisy asked. “Why would they destroy the future?”
“We don’t know why,” Marv said. “Could be revenge. Maybe they’re tired of cleaning up kids’ messes, year after year, without so much as a thank you.” Marv’s face contorted in a disgusted expression. “Don’t much care about their reasons. It just makes me sick. If the BEM won’t give us equipment to kill the Toxites, then it’s up to us.”
“We have to fight back and maintain the ideals that the Founding Witches believed in,” said Walter. “These are corrupt times.”
Spencer tilted his chair back on two legs. The janitors were either telling the truth or they had just fabricated the most elaborate lie in the history of lies. Spencer wanted to believe them, but it didn’t seem possible that the Bureau of Educational Maintenance had gone evil and was letting kids’ brains rot. Walter’s picture of the uneducated future was frightening, but could it be trusted? One glance at Daisy revealed that she had fallen for the janitor’s story, hook, line, and sinker.
“You’re going to have to prove it,” Spencer finally said.
Marv stepped forward. “Read the numbers, kid. Education is falling apart. What more do you want?”
Walter Jamison held up a hand. “Your concern is admirable, Spencer. You’ve been tricked once and you don’t want to fall into another pit. I’ve told you everything and shown you all the proof I can. Just look at the evidence and trust in your feelings.”
Silence filled the storage/office. Silence that became stifling and uncomfortable. After a moment, the warlock continued. “Hadley asked you to do some pretty extreme things: sneak out of class, create a giant mess, break into locked parts of the school, steal objects from the janitors. How did it make you feel to do those things, Spencer?”
Walter had hit a sensitive subject. Nothing about last week seemed right. Everything Garth Hadley had asked him to do had ended in disaster. Now he was in detention, nearly suspended. All on account of the BEM representative.
“All right,” Spencer said, ending his guilt-wreaking chain of thoughts. “If I say I believe you, what do I have to do?”
“Do?” cried Walter, a grin spreading across his face. “You don’t have to do anything. That would make me as bad as Hadley, recruiting kids to perform dangerous tasks. No, Spencer. We’re here to help you, to keep you safe.”
Walter stood, his hands clasped tightly. “The BEM has tried a forbidden tactic—exposing children to the existence of Toxites. There’s no telling what else they might do, which is why I think you should prepare yourselves for the worst.”
“What do you mean?” Daisy asked. Walter walked across the room. A high stack of boxes leaned against the back wall. Grabbing the boxes, he slid the stack sideways on a hidden metal runner and a door appeared. Painted on the door was the symbol of a large silver ring with at least a dozen keys dangling from it, splaying outward like rays from the sun.
“Boss,” Marv whispered, his face nervous. But Walter merely smiled and unlocked the door. Spencer and Daisy stood up and came a few steps closer, trying to peer into the dark room beyond.
“The Toxites are real,” Walter said. “And they’re not going anywhere. You kids still have a lot of learning ahead of you. If you wish, we can teach you to fight the Toxites and keep yourselves safe from the BEM.” Walter motioned for the kids to approach. “There’s a whole world of skills to learn. But we’ll just start with a closetful.”
Walter Jamison flicked on the light.
Chapter 25
“Take a look, but don’t get too close.”
The room behind the hidden door was as large as the storage/office and had a low ceiling with exposed pipes and naked lightbulbs. The huge concealed closet smelled of sulfur and chili powder.
There were several long tables littered with pieces of janitorial equipment. Mops and brooms hung on one wall. The opposite wall was lined with vacuums: some upright, others little canister vacuums with long hoses. There were racks of spray bottles organized in rows of colors: pink, blue, green, yellow. And there was much more, but Spencer was distracted by a steaming vat in the center of the room.
Spencer took a step toward it, but suddenly, Marv’s bearlike body moved to intercept.
“Get back,” he grunted.
“Marv’s right, Spencer,” Walter said. “That container holds a small amount of raw magic. We call it Glop. Take a look, but don’t get too close.”
Spencer and Daisy peered over the rim of the vat and saw gray goo, swirling and bubbling as though it were alive. The closet’s unique smell definitely came from the Glop.
“That’s the stuff?” Spencer said. It looked like someone had mixed pancake batter and concrete and then tried to carbonate it with dry ice.
“With the bronze nail in the wall, this entire school was my domain. Within the walls of Welcher Elementary, I was free to handle and experiment with the raw Glop. Since the nail was pulled, my domain has crumbled.”
“What would happen if you touched the Glop now?”
“No one but an established warlock can handle the Glop. If any of us touched the raw magic now, we’d likely mutate into a Toxite.”
“There is one exception,” Marv said, shutting the closet door. “If Glop is diluted enough—one part Glop to five hundred parts of something else—it can be used to expose newcomers to the world of Toxites.”
“So the pink soap was just super-diluted Glop?” Spencer asked. Walter nodded. “It sure made my face tingle.”
“You’re lucky it was a proper batch. A small error can be fatal when diluting Glop.”
“I’m glad you did a good job,” Spencer said.
The janitors looked at each other. Finally, Walter spoke. “The pink soap
didn’t come from us, Spencer. Someone else put it in the boy’s bathroom that day. Who? We’re not sure yet.”
“Dez,” Spencer suddenly whispered. “He was in the bathroom before me. Maybe he put it there.”
“That’s a possibility,” Walter answered. “But he wouldn’t have done it on his own. There must have been outside influence.”
“Garth Hadley gave it to him,” Spencer mused.
“If that’s true,” Marv said, “then we’d better get this Dez down here right now. Is he in your class?”
Spencer shook his head. “He just got suspended for the week.”
“We’ll check into it when he returns,” Walter said. “Thanks for helping us figure that one out. We regret not contacting you two sooner, but things were hectic as we prepared for the BEM inspections. I was out of town for a few days. When I returned, Marv told me of his suspicions about you. By then it was too late. We found this message in the pocket of a recess aide’s vest.”
Walter took a small paper from a filing cabinet and handed it to Spencer.
Get Spencer out of the boys’ bathroom by the gym. Others may be with him. Take a vest and borrow keys from the janitors.
—S.B.
The note was handwritten in black ink. Spencer studied the penmanship. There was something peculiar about it. Something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He handed the note to Daisy so she could read it. When she was done, Walter placed it back in the filing cabinet.
“Who’s S.B.?” Spencer asked.
“We were hoping you could tell us,” Walter said. Spencer and Daisy glanced at each other, but the only BEM worker they knew was Garth Hadley.
“When we found that note, we knew you were really involved with the BEM,” Marv said. “We wanted to find you on Monday, Spencer, but you didn’t come to school. By the time we saw you at the ice cream social, the ball was already rolling.”
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