The Word Eater

by Mary Amato

  She had made a horrible mistake deleting Ripper. It was absolutely wrong to delete something living. She definitely was not going to go through with the Attackaterrier experiment.

  The bus rumbled over a pothole. Sharmaine turned around and looked at her. For a second, Lerner thought she was going to declare herself a SLUG. But then Sharmaine looked away.

  Reba moved to an empty seat next to Lerner. “So, where did you get all those Nutty Munches yesterday, SLUG?”

  The bus turned a wide corner, rolling on and off the curb with elephant-like thumps. She turned to Reba calmly and said, “My name is Lerner, not SLUG.”

  Lerner saw Sharmaine smile.

  “I have an excellent idea,” Reba went on. “Why don’t you open your backpack and let me see if you’ve got any more candy in there.”

  “Forget it.” Lerner pulled her backpack in. “You’re just mad because I gave them to SLUGs. You can’t tell me what to do, Reba.”

  “I’m just worried about you, Lerner. I think you might have stolen those candy bars and I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  The bus rumbled over another pothole. Lerner kept quiet, hoping Reba would go back to her seat.

  “So, where’s neighbor boy?” Reba asked.

  “I don’t keep track of Bobby.”

  Reba glared. “There’s something going on. We think both you and Nitz are in on it. You have both been acting strange. And we’re going to find out what it is. Just wait till you see what we have planned for Nitz.”

  The bus pulled into the school parking lot. What did they mean they have something planned for Bobby, Lerner wondered. Now what?

  At 8:45 A.M., the Mack Technical School on Bellitas Island was ready. The children were sitting at their tables, penmanship books open on their desks, newly sharpened pencils poised. Fake test scores were taped onto the bulletin board. Boris, the bodyguard, was sitting on a stool at a large chalkboard pretending to be a teacher, scratching under his collar as if his fancy suit gave him hives.

  Mr. Mack surveyed the scene. The FBI investigator was due to arrive any moment. There was only one thing left to do, Mr. Mack thought, get rid of that skinny girl with the big mouth.

  As if she could read his mind, Lucia spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be writing something in these notebooks?”

  Boris looked at Mr. Mack. “She got a point, Boss.”

  “Fine. Fine,” Mr. Mack said, as he walked the floor. “Write ‘See Spot Run’ on the board and everyone can copy it.”

  Lucia went to the board and wrote:

  Frio Re Bampas.

  Anybody who speaks Bellitan knows that Frio Re Bampas does not mean See Spot Run. It means: Free the Children. And when Lucia wrote the revolutionary statement on the board, all the children in the room straightened up in their seats.

  Lucia looked out at her friends with a stone face, willing them to keep their cool. She could see the questions in their eyes: What was she up to? Would Mr. Mack catch on?

  Mr. Mack was staring hard at the writing, unwilling to admit that he didn’t know Bellitan. “Write it in English, too,” he finally said.

  Underneath the Bellitan words, Lucia wrote:

  See Spot Run.

  “Does that look right?” Mr. Mack whispered to Boris, who shrugged. Mr. Mack walked over to the youngest kid in the factory, a baby-faced eight year old. “Is that right?”

  Lucia stared at the boy, praying he wouldn’t crack. To his credit, the little boy nodded and smiled.

  Mr. Mack told all the children to copy the letters in their books, and he grabbed Lucia’s arm. “You come with me.”

  She rooted her feet to the floor and scrutinized his face with unblinking eyes. “Where to?”

  “You little—” Mr. Mack swallowed the scream rising in his throat, realizing that it wouldn’t do to get angry. “I found a box of books we should be using. You can distribute them.”

  Lucia pulled her arm away and followed him out the double doors. As they walked down the long hallway, Lucia kept her eyes peeled, suspicious. They stopped at a door labeled:

  “Here we are,” Mr. Mack said. He punched a code into a small box on the side of the door, and the lock clicked open. “You’ll find a box of books to the right of the door. Just bring it back to the factory.” He smiled, and before Lucia could object, he pushed her inside.

  The door slammed shut, and Mr. Mack laughed. He pulled the fake sign off the door and stuck the real one back on.

  Lerner had five minutes before the first bell rang, so she ran to the sanctuary of the library. There was Bobby Nitz hunched at the computer. He had obviously come to school early, probably avoiding the whole bus scene. She was relieved to see that he was okay. Overnight, she’d dreamed up some terrible scenarios in which he was driven away by his angry father. Anyway, it was all her imagination. He looked perfectly fine—his feet jiggling under his chair as usual.

  She stood for a moment noticing his mud-caked shoes, his untied laces, and saw how alone he was. To be a SLUG was bad enough, but to be Bobby Nitz had to be the worst. At least SLUGs had the potential to make friends with other SLUGs; nobody wanted to make friends with Bobby. He was the first one everybody suspected of doing something wrong. Because of her, the MPOOEs were planning something against him. It wasn’t right. It was like his dad blaming him for Ripper’s disappearance. She should warn him about the MPOOEs. That was the right thing to do. So how come she wasn’t doing it?

  “Good morning, Cookie.” Mrs. Popocheskovich emerged from her office holding a cup of coffee and a stack of newspapers. “How’s that worm book?”

  “Not too helpful,” Lerner said. “I think the worm I found hasn’t been written about yet.”

  Mrs. Popocheskovich smiled. “You maybe discovered a new species, eh?”

  Lerner nodded. An idea was worming its way into her mind. Maybe it was the guilt, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Bobby. He had nothing. She didn’t exactly have a hundred new friends, but she did have Marie to write to. And at home, there were her parents and good old Martha. Every person should have something good in his life—even Bobby Nitz. She wished that instead of getting rid of Ripper, she could have made him less vicious.

  That was it!

  “Mrs. Popocheskovich,” she said with growing excitement. “Do you know how Attackaterriers become Attackaterriers?”

  Mrs. Popocheskovich set her papers down. “From worms to dogs. Lerner, what is sitting on that brain of yours?”

  “Haven’t you ever noticed the ads?” Lerner picked up a newspaper and leafed through it until she saw an Attackaterrier advertisement. “See!” She pointed to the ad. “They get mean by some ‘Attacka’ method. So what if you could take the ‘Attacka’ out of Attackaterrier. What would you have left?”

  “Terriers?”

  “Yes! And that would be great, wouldn’t it?”

  “Well, I must admit I feel bad for those dogs. They don’t look like they’re having so much happy, if you know what I’m saying.”

  Lerner grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. Popocheskovich!”

  “You’re so much welcome,” the librarian smiled. “But for what did I do?”

  Lerner hurried past Bobby to her carrel in the back. She pulled out her experiment notebook and wrote a new experiment.

  She set Fip down on the letter A. “Here’s a little breakfast,” she whispered, and then thought to herself that it wasn’t little at all.

  Lucia was hit with blinding sunlight and a horrible stench at the same time. She blinked, covering her mouth and nose. She was outside. But where? And why did Mr. Mack push her out here?

  She looked down. That’s where the smell came from! She had stepped right into a pile of dog poop. A sick feeling crept into her stomach. She looked up, her eyes adjusting to the light.

  Twenty pairs of eyes met hers. Yellow eyes. Attackaterrier eyes.

  Every muscle froze. She knew where she was. She was inside one of the large Attackaterrier pens in the back of Mack Industries. Behind t
he dogs was a tall chain-link fence. Behind the fence was an empty field. No one was in sight.

  “Nice doggies,” she said, her voice trembling.

  The dogs, all twenty of them, growled.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby watched Lerner, or rather, he watched her feet jiggling under her favorite carrel in the back. In the middle of the night, he had remembered that Lerner told Ripper she had a surprise named Fip. Now he was determined to find out what it was all about. He’d searched on the Internet under every possible spelling of the name. Fhip. Fip. Fipp. Phip. Fhiph. Fiph. All he learned was that FIP stands for Feline Infectious Peritonitis, which was some kind of virus that cats get. He was just about to give up when Lerner had arrived, looking like she was going to pop.

  The bell was about to ring. He crept around the Fiction section to the very back of the library. The XYZ shelf ended right behind Lerner’s carrel. He crept over to the Zs. Lerner’s back was to him. He stood on a footstool and read her experiment over her shoulder.

  Slowly, the pieces began to fit together. He didn’t have all the pieces, so the picture wasn’t seamless. But he figured that Lerner had some magic creature called a Fip that ate words and made things disappear. Things like Ripper. Now she was going to do something with Attackaterriers. Bobby didn’t really care for Attackaterriers, but he knew right away that the Fip creature was an incredible find.

  He climbed down from the stool. He had to get that Fip.

  In the hot and brilliant sunlight, Lucia Torrez broke into a sweat. Stay calm, she told herself. Maybe they’ll think you’re too skinny to eat. Then she remembered dogs like bones.

  She took a step backward. The dogs took a step toward her.

  “Nice doggies,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Please, for once, be nice doggies.”

  Lerner’s forehead was damp with sweat. What was Bobby Nitz doing behind her? He probably didn’t see anything, but it made her nervous. She watched Fip’s body as he munched. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

  Fip tried as hard as he could, but the letters were stickly in his throat. It was hard to eat with her alarm chemicals blasting.

  Fip had eaten A-t-t-a-c. Hurry up, Lerner thought. The bell is going to ring.

  The dogs began moving toward Lucia as if they were of one mind, their white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

  Without turning around, she tried turning the doorknob. Locked. Three dogs led the pack, their eyes pinned to Lucia, their tongues hanging out, their stubby tails vibrating like electric drills. Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

  Lerner could feel Bobby Nitz creeping up behind her. Closer and closer. He had seen Fip! Fip was almost finished eating, but she couldn’t wait. She’d have to make a run for it.

  The bell rang. Lerner jumped up, knocking Bobby to the floor, and ran out the door, holding her notebook in front of her like a tray. She ran down the hall and ducked into the girls’ rest room and looked at her experiment. Fip had done it! He had eaten Attacka!

  Lerner grinned and put him in his bottle. “Good going, Fip!” she said. “Now we have to find out if it worked!”

  Lucia screamed. The dogs leaped for her, giving off some kind of strange, shimmering light. She crouched and closed her eyes, expecting to feel the pounce of nails and teeth.

  Instead, a wet tongue licked her cheek.

  She opened her eyes. All around her, terriers were panting and wagging their tails!

  Lucia didn’t move. One of the dogs nuzzled her shoulder.

  “Nice doggies?” she whispered.

  “Yip! Yip!” barked the dogs, cheerfully.

  With his dazzling smile, Mr. Mack was answering the questions of Ms. Ferret, the FBI official, as they finished the tour of the “Mack Technical School.”

  Suddenly, he stopped. A little shiver went up his spine and tingled his brain. He gasped.

  “Something wrong?” asked Ms. Ferret. She was a petite, unsmiling woman wearing a wrinkled khaki suit and dark green sunglasses.

  Mr. Mack blinked. What had just happened? It felt as if his brain had gone a little numb. He couldn’t explain it.

  Ms. Ferret continued with her questions. “How does the Attacka method work?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Your advertisements say it’s top secret. But this is the FBI you’re talking to, Mr. Mack. Besides, it may help with the thumbtack investigation.”

  Archibald Mack racked his brains. He knew that he was the creator of the secret Attacka method. But what was the secret? He couldn’t remember.

  “Do you have something to hide, Mr. Mack?”

  The investigator’s voice snapped him to attention. He did have something to hide. Those children that Ms. Ferret had just seen writing “Frio Re Bampas” were his workers. If the FBI discovered that, they’d throw him in jail. He had to concentrate. He had to avoid any more questions and get rid of her.

  “Well, thank you for flying to the island. I’m so glad you had the chance to see my school in session. Of course, I didn’t need to start a school. But the local school is poor. And I adore children.” He smiled and escorted her out. “Please call if you have any more questions, my dear.”

  At the word dear, a vein popped out on Ms. Ferret’s temple. “The name is Ferret.”

  They walked out, and Ms. Ferret stopped short. She stared at the large holding pen for outgoing dogs that stood to the right of the main gate. Twenty cute terriers were playing and wagging their tails inside the pen.

  “Isn’t that odd? Those same dogs growled at me on my way in,” Ms. Ferret said. “Aren’t they always vicious?”

  Mr. Mack stared. Those were the dogs that were ready to be shipped out. Yet, it looked as if they hadn’t been trained!

  If the thumbtacks and the Attackaterriers were gone, then he had nothing! Well . . . at least he still had the children to work for him, he thought. As soon as this bag of sand named Ms. Ferret was gone, he’d make the children work harder.

  Ms. Ferret said good-bye and zoomed off in her rental car. After driving a mile or so, she picked up the car phone and called FBI headquarters. “I don’t have any news about thumbtacks, but I think there’s a deeper mystery here. I copied down a clue from the classroom.” She held up her notebook. “Frio Re Bampas. Can you ask our translator to tell me what it means? I have a feeling it doesn’t mean ‘See Spot Run.’ ”

  Lucia popped up from her hiding place in the backseat. “That’s Bellitan. It means: Free the Children!”

  Lerner waited until the hallways were quiet, then she hurried to her locker. Keeping Fip in her locker seemed less risky than carrying him around. She couldn’t wait to find out if anything happened with Attackaterriers. Although late for class, she stopped at the pay phone and called Kenneth’s Kennel.

  “I’m interested in Attackaterriers,” she said. “Do you have any for sale?”

  There was a pause on the end of the line. “Well, I gotta lotta terriers. Cute dogs. Nice pets.”

  “You have no Attackaterriers, but you have terriers?”

  “Yeah. I did have Attackaterriers. But somehow they . . . well, changed.”

  “How could that be?”

  “I gotta admit, I’m stumped,” Kenneth said.

  Lerner hung up. Ha! Fip took the Attacka out of Attackaterriers!

  By the time she got to class, Mr. Droan was already taking roll. Bobby Nitz ran in, breathless, just after Mr. Droan had closed his grade book.

  “Ah. The guest of honor arrives,” Mr. Droan said. “So glad you’re joining us, Nitz.”

  Bobby slid into his seat.

  Oh, go pick on someone your own size, Mr. Droan, Lerner said to herself, or I’ll have Fip eat your grade book.

  “As you people know, I gave you all detentions until the return of the photosynthesis exams,” Mr. Droan began. “Well, there seems to be a development.”

  Reba and Randy grinned at each other.

  Mr. Droan pulled a note from his desk drawer. “I found this on my desk this morning.
It reads: ‘Look for the tests in Nitz’s locker. Signed, Anonymous.’ ”

  “That’s a lie!” Bobby shouted.

  The room hushed.

  “Well, if you didn’t do it, then you won’t mind if we search your locker.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Mr. Droan smirked. “I already did!” He heaved a stack of tests onto his desk.

  Bobby was so shocked, he couldn’t even protest.

  “Looks like the mystery is solved,” Mr. Droan said. “Bobby, you’re going to the principal’s office.”

  Lerner caught Reba smiling at Randy and realized that they had framed him. They had reproduced the tests, which was easy to do because they were sample tests from the book. Then they put them in Bobby’s locker.

  The joy she had felt in taking the Attacka out of Attackaterriers evaporated. She was the one who had deleted the tests, and now Bobby was getting framed for it. The right thing to do would be to speak up now. But if she told the truth, then she’d get into more trouble. And what would happen to Fip? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “I’m escorting Bobby to Mrs. Norker’s office,” Mr. Droan said. “Nobody move a muscle until I get back.”

  As soon as they were gone, the class erupted.

  “You put those tests in Bobby’s locker, didn’t you?” Lerner yelled at Reba. “That’s what you were plotting yesterday after school and this morning on the bus?”

  Reba grinned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But isn’t it excellent?”

  “You SLUGs should be happy,” Randy said. “Now we don’t have after-school detention.”

  “She’s not happy,” Reba teased, “because she’s in love with Nitz.”

  Lerner reddened. “I am not! I just don’t think somebody should get in trouble for something he didn’t do.”