Dr. Critchlore's School for Minions

by Sheila Grau

  Miss Merrybench screamed.

  Puddles zoomed in on his target. He stretched out his neck and swooped underneath Dr. Critchlore, catching him just before he would have hit the trees. I grabbed hold of his arms as Puddles flapped upward.

  “Got you,” I said with relief. “Dr. Critchlore, I thought you were a goner.”

  “Hankbert, my boy, what a rescue!” Dr. Critchlore righted himself so he was sitting in front of me. He grabbed the harness, and I grabbed him. Puddles rose slowly, maneuvering up and away from the cliff’s edge.

  “Are you okay?” Miss Merrybench called.

  “Yes, fine, Miss Honeychair! Can you climb back up and get my gear? And I left my motorcycle at the foot of the trail. Thanks, you’re a dear.”

  Miss Merrybench didn’t look too pleased, but she began the slow climb back up the mountain. That was going to take a lot longer than rappelling down.

  “Dr. Critchlore,” I said as we swooped away, “I hope this will teach you to be more careful.”

  He laughed. “You must be joking. That was the most excitement I’ve had in years!”

  “But you could have died.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  Puddles flew us down to Coach Foley and Professor Murphy. Syke cheered as we passed her in the tree. The rest of the students stood there watching, mouths open in shock. I felt like a hero. Janet was smiling at me, and I had to look away, I was so embarrassed.

  Puddles, true to his name, relieved himself in the air before landing. Dragons are a fun mode of travel, but they are definitely not zero-emission vehicles.

  Dr. Critchlore jumped off, breathed in deeply, and spread his arms. “Fantastic!”

  I slid off and stood next to him in my best henchman pose—feet apart, hands on hips, look adoringly at the master.

  “Professor Murphy, Coach Foley,” Dr. Critchlore said, “Hollins and I just had an amazing ride!” Then he went on his way, back to the castle, dodging tree branches that seemed to swipe at him as he passed.

  I felt myself blushing, and I dropped my gaze down. When nobody said anything, I looked up at my teachers. They were frowning at me. That didn’t seem right. Professor Murphy looked like he’d just eaten one of Cook’s mystery stews. Coach Foley’s arms were crossed in front of his massive chest like angry snakes.

  “You threw the master to the dragon,” Professor Murphy said, tapping his tablet, where a video showed Jake cleaning up the stuffing around the hole. Coach Foley shook his head.

  “I needed Puddles to—”

  “I’m sorry, Higgins,” he continued. “But that’s the worst henchman failure I have seen in all my years at this school.”

  “Dropped him right to the dragon,” Coach Foley muttered, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. He couldn’t look at me. “And that boy is my junior henchman. I’m going to have to talk to someone in administration about assignments.”

  Opinions are unique, so don’t have them.

  Your evil overlord will tell you what to think.

  —DR. CRITCHLORE, IN A COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS

  I was reassigned to Mistress Moira, as fate would have it. Get it? ’Cause she’s the Fourth Fate? Or was. I wasn’t sure if her Fate job was still active. I did know that she was the school seamstress and chocolatier, and that she lived and worked in the top room of the castle’s tall tower.

  I climbed the circular staircase that wound up the inside of the tower. The climb was long, but it was worth it because Mistress Moira had the most amazing rooms in the castle. Walking into her parlor was like walking into a grassy meadow. The room was alive with nature—lush green everywhere, from the grass and wildflower carpet to the willow tree in the corner and the bushes all around. There was a pond at the base of a fountain. Birds sang, crickets chirped, and frogs croaked. Oh, they didn’t die; they made that croaking sound.

  I looked out wide windows thrown open to let in the birds and the breeze. I felt like I was floating in a meadow in the sky. I imagined this was how the gods lived.

  Mistress Moira sat on her couch in the middle of this splendor, wearing a billowy white robe that looked brilliant next to her dark-chocolate skin. She was sewing a button on a shirt.

  “Hello, dear Higgins,” she said. “Come. Sit.” She patted the couch.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m in the Junior Henchman Training Program. They’ve assigned me to you.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’ve never been assigned a junior henchman before, but I had a feeling it would happen. Nothing surprises me, as you know.”

  “So, what would you like me to do?”

  “Hmm,” she said. “I don’t really have anything for you to do. The sports uniforms are done. Since the term just started, the shape-shifters haven’t torn up all their clothes yet with accidental morphings. I can’t start a new batch of chocolate until the next delivery of cocoa arrives. Why don’t you help me with the yarn while I mend this shirt?”

  So I did. I sat next to her, winding yarn into balls, listening to the sounds of the meadow. It relaxed me. So what if I failed my junior henchman test? I’d saved Dr. Critchlore, and that was more important. Things were going to get better; they had to. I just needed to stay positive.

  “You and I have something in common,” she told me. “We were both cast aside by our families.”

  Well, that didn’t help.

  I didn’t believe my family had cast me aside. They’d left me with someone who could take better care of me. Because they loved me.

  “My sisters were jealous of me.”

  “Are they seamstresses too?” I asked.

  “You could say that,” she said. “We used to work together as a team. One spun the thread, another measured it, and a third cut it. I was the weaver. My sisters were jealous of my job. After all, I had all the fun, putting this thread with that one. Making some threads jealous, keeping some threads apart.”

  “Are we talking about string?” I asked.

  “The threads of life, dear heart.”

  “Can you still do that? Because Dr. Critchlore could use a new thread in his life.”

  “Alas, no. They took my power when they threw me out.”

  They took her power? Interesting. Maybe that was what happened to me. Maybe I’d lost some of my werewolf power when my family left me here, and that was why I had trouble morphing.

  “You and I will have the final laugh, though,” she said, standing. All at once her cheerful demeanor turned dark as she lowered her head and glared out the window. “Oh yes. We shall have our revenge.” I swear I heard thunder rumble in the distance.

  A breeze rushed in and ruffled her robe. I shivered.

  She turned to look at me; her expression changing from crazed determination back to warm and friendly. “But first, how about a cup of cocoa?”

  I left Moira to go to my History of Henchmen class. I wasn’t looking forward to it, after this morning’s failure at the test. But I wasn’t going to give up, and not just because Janet told me not to.

  Okay, maybe that was one of the reasons I wasn’t giving up. But who could blame me? She was so cute.

  I began the long climb down from Mistress Moira’s room. When I was a quarter of the way down, I heard a cry.

  “Help!”

  I stopped and tried to figure out where it was coming from.

  “Help. I’m stuck outside the window. On the ledge. Some imps tricked me.”

  I could relate to that. I went over to the window and leaned out. The ledge was about a meter below the window, but I didn’t see anyone on it.

  “Where are you?” I asked. I leaned out farther to see around the edge, but the ledge was empty as far as I could tell.

  “I’m on the ledge.” The voice came from around the side of the round tower wall. “Can you help me get back in? I’m too scared to move.”

  I swung my legs out the window and lowered myself down feet-first. The ledge wasn’t wide, and I felt a little dizzy when I looked down. I gripped the rough edge of the w
all and inched my way sideways.

  And then I saw the poor guy. A little imp named Fingers. He looked petrified. I held out my hand to him and he grabbed it.

  “Gotcha!” he said, climbing up my back and my shoulders and through the window.

  I looked up. Five imp faces leaned out the window, laughing at me. They closed the shutter, and I heard a bolt lock.

  Stupid imps.

  I heard laughter coming from inside. I edged around the tower, checking other windows, but they were all locked. I was stuck. The nearest thing to jump to was the roof of the castle, but that was three stories away, and I was sure I’d break every bone in my body if I tried to drop down.

  I was going to miss my History of Henchmen class if I didn’t get down soon. Not only that, but I’d get an unexcused absence, another detention, and probably a sunburn. Cat’s paws!

  I felt like punching something, but any movement might send me to my death, so instead I howled in frustration.

  As I paused for breath, I heard scurrying sounds from inside the tower. Then the window opened, and Moira peeped out.

  “I knew this would happen,” she said, reaching out for me.

  “Because you saw it in my fate?” I asked.

  “No, because those imps have been hanging around my tower for the past two days. It was only a matter of time before they pulled the ‘I’m stuck on the ledge’ trick.”

  She helped me in, and I gave her a hug. She was so warm and friendly; I just loved her. “Thank you, Mistress Moira.”

  “You’ll be late for class,” she said. She said that like it was a fact, but I hoped it was just a warning.

  I was late for class. As I opened the door, I saw twenty-seven faces turn my way, and I’m sure I turned an embarrassing shade of puce. I tried to squeeze in along the wall, but the bodies were packed tightly in the back, and I had to walk all the way to the front. Professor Murphy stopped his lecture as he waited for me to find a spot. For the first time in my life I wished I were smaller, so I could disappear.

  “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to join us, Mr. Higgins,” Professor Murphy said.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  I glanced at the board. Our names were listed there in the order in which we had finished. Rufus was at the top, of course—he’s such a beast at physical tasks. His werewolf buddy Lapso was just below. And there, at the bottom was me, Runt Higgins, with a big red DQ: Disqualified.

  I was going to have to kill the next two tests.

  Oh, who was I kidding? It was hopeless.

  “As a henchman, blatant insubordination is of course punishable by death,” Professor Murphy said, glaring right at me. “But there are other, seemingly less egregious mistakes a henchman can make that could cost him or her dearly. For instance, when Lord Vengecrypt came to power three decades ago, he decided to rename the months of the year after his family members—Edithary, Paulary, Madge, Bobary, … etc. A few months later he overheard a henchman misname a month, and he ordered him hung upside down from a flagpole for everyone to see. Evil overlords love making an example of people. It makes for an effective lesson in obedience.

  “Another instance: When Elvira Cutter came to power, she decreed that everyone endure the Seven Labors of Loyalty …”

  I zoned out. I knew all about Elvira Cutter. We all did.

  “Where’s your necklace?” I turned and saw Janet looking at me. I wasn’t sure she was talking to me, so I pointed at myself. “Yes, you, Higgins. Where’s the necklace you always wear?”

  My hand felt for it, but it was gone.

  I gasped.

  My wolf’s head medallion was gone. It was the only thing I had from my life before I’d come to Dr. Critchlore’s. I’d worn it every day for as long as I could remember. I never took it off. It was a part of me.

  And now it was gone.

  “I hope you didn’t lose it,” Janet whispered. “It’s a nice necklace.”

  Okay, my body was overloading with a strange combination of emotions. The stress and panic about my lost medallion combined with a wave of fluttery hope and happiness after hearing that Janet liked my necklace. I was stunned she’d even noticed it. Noticed me.

  Rufus was on her other side, listening in. He scowled at me. “Necklaces are girly,” he said.

  “No, Runt’s is really cool,” Janet said. “With all those mysterious symbols on it and that wolf’s head in the center. Very manly.” She blinked her eyes at me, and I nearly fell out of my chair.

  “I think Fingers took it,” I said, remembering my time on the ledge and the way the imp crawled up my back.

  Rufus laughed. “Then you’ll never get it back. Fingers is psycho. Nobody knows where he stashes all the stuff he steals.”

  “Quiet down,” Professor Murphy said.

  “I have to get it back,” I said. “It’s all I have from … from my before time.”

  Janet pouted in sympathy.

  One evil overlord shall be my master, until such time as I am laid off or downsized to a foreign evil overlord.

  —FROM THE MINION’S OATH

  I’d failed my test, gotten another tardy, and lost my necklace. Thinking positively was doing nothing to help my cursedness.

  At lunch I looked for the imps, but there was no sign of them anywhere. I decided to try to find Coach Foley. Sure, he’d gotten rid of me as his junior henchman trainee, but I wanted to tell him that the zombies only responded to whining. I was hoping to impress him and get back on his good side, if that was possible.

  I couldn’t find him either, but I did see Pismo. Most kids relaxed out in the quad after lunch. It was right outside the cafeteria, and there were benches and trees and a long, low wall next to a grassy ledge where the cool kids sat. As I came back from the sports fields, I saw Pismo running toward the cemetery, his backpack flopping against his back.

  I decided to follow him. I would have to be stealthy, because I didn’t want him to know I was following him. This may sound mean, but the kid was kind of a twerp. He’d probably make fun of me if he caught me.

  I ran up the path and then hid behind some bushes. I peeked out and saw that Pismo had slowed to a walk. And then something else caught my eye. Directly across from me, fifteen zombies swayed my way.

  “Higginsbrains, Higginsbrains,” they chanted.

  Oh, great.

  They crossed to my side. “Sorry, no brains,” I said. I sprinted away from them and hid farther up the path.

  Pismo veered to the right when the path split. Yep, definitely heading for the cemetery. Again. But why?

  “Higginsbrains, Higginsbrains.” The zombies chased after me.

  When they got close, I ran away again, this time whining, “I don’t have any brains.” We continued like that—the zombies slowly chasing me, me racing away when they caught up, and the zombies following, chanting. They weren’t listening to me, not even when I whined.

  Soon I lost track of Pismo. I leaned against a tree and the zombies surrounded me.

  “Higginsbrains.”

  They looked really determined. I checked my watch. I still had thirty minutes left in my break. Maybe I could sneak down to the dungeon and snatch a tray of brains for them. I knew there was a secret entrance to the dungeon over by the lake.

  “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s get you some brains.”

  “Higginsbrainshigginsbrainshigginsbrains,” they chanted excitedly. They had a bit more spring in their steps as they followed me.

  You’d think, being surrounded by zombies as I was, that nothing would startle me. But you’d be wrong, because I nearly leaped out of my skin when Pismo jumped in front of me from behind a tree.

  “What’cha doing?” he said.

  “Pismo, jeez,” I said. “You scared me half to death.”

  “That takes you one step closer to your friends, then,” he said, laughing at his joke. All at once he turned serious. “Were you following me?”

  “What?” I said. “Me? Following a twerpy first-y
ear? I don’t think so.” He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me, so I added, “Somebody thinks an awful lot of himself.”

  “Yeah, you’re about as subtle as a punch in the face. Then, what are you doing?”

  “I’m—I’m going to get some brains,” I said. “For the zombies.”

  “Isn’t the lab that way?” He pointed to the castle.

  “Shows what you know,” I said. “There happens to be an entrance closer to Dr. Frankenhammer’s lab over here. But it’s a secret, so run along, first-year.”

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “Like I’m not gonna follow you now. Secret entrance, you say?”

  Oops.

  “No—uh—actually, I was following you.”

  “I know,” Pismo said, smirking, “but I still want to see that secret entrance. Is it by the cemetery?” He stared at me like he was trying to pull the information from my brain. “No? The lake? Aha!” he said, pointing at my face like I’d just given it away, which maybe I had. “It’s by the lake. Hmm, there’s a boathouse …” He pointed at me again. “It’s in the boathouse, I can tell. Thanks, Runt. Let’s go check it out.”

  Schnauzers, the kid was annoying.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said. “You’ll just get me into trouble.”

  “Aw, lighten up.” He looked at me. “I can help you carry the brains.”

  “Fine.” I strode past him and headed for the lake, followed by fifteen zombies and one really annoying kid.

  The boathouse was dark inside, just a few streams of light edging through the dust on the windows. Canoes hung along one wall, and a couple of trunks filled with life vests sat on the floor. Over in the corner was a box that could be pushed aside to reveal the secret entrance.

  “Zombies, wait here. I’ll bring you brains,” I whined. Surprisingly, they all sat down. One of them pulled out a deck of cards and began dealing.

  Pismo followed me down a ladder built into one side of a long circular tube. It felt like climbing down a well. Our steps echoed in the enclosed space as we clanged down the metal rungs. A cool, fresh, earthy smell breezed up from below.