Dweeb

by Aaron Starmer

  This was the first thing Wendell had liked the sound of in a while. There was just one issue. He looked at Eddie sheepishly.

  Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever,” he said. “If he can help.”

  “I might be able to,” Wendell said.

  “In theater club,” Bijay started explaining, “Mr. Gainsbourg always tells us to play to our strengths….”

  • • •

  As Bijay described it, the plan was simple enough. Denton was to be the talker, the charmer. Wendell would serve as the technician. Eddie’s speed and agility would once again be put to the test. Elijah was going to write a rousing speech. And Bijay had to act. He had to pretend.

  They spent the entire day working out the details, and in the evening, they sent Eddie out for supplies. Wendell wasn’t sure any of it would work. But it was better than any game he could ever play. And he was starting to realize that sitting in that room and waiting things out wasn’t going to solve anything.

  He had to have faith—in the guys, and in himself.

  Chapter 18

  DENTON

  It was early on Thursday morning. Denton sat on the edge of his bunk. He stood up and walked quietly to the door. Looking back, he could just barely see Wendell’s hair poking out from the edge of his blanket. He turned away and lifted up the small device that Coach McKenzie had given them nearly a week before. Press the red button, an alarm will sound, and McKenzie will come running—that was what they’d been told.

  He clenched his teeth and pressed the button. Nothing happened at first, and he worried it might not be working. He looked nervously at the bunks.

  “Come on, come on,” Denton whispered, looking back and forth.

  Then he heard the footsteps down the stairs. He hurried to the door and leaned against it.

  As the door swung back, Denton swung with it, falling into the arms of a bleary-eyed Coach McKenzie.

  “What in the …,” McKenzie grumbled.

  “Shh!” Denton said hurriedly. “We can’t wake them. We can’t allow them to know that we’re keen to their mutiny.”

  “Mutiny?” McKenzie said, pushing Denton up and peering through the darkness to the bunks, where sounds of light snoring crept up from the frozen lumps beneath the blankets.

  “An insurgence,” Denton whispered. “You can’t imagine what they have planned. Give me some privacy and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Kensington,” McKenzie said, “don’t think I’m about to let you out. Step aside and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “But they’re traitors, Coach. And they want to escape and stop the pep rally. They’ve got this place booby-trapped like a pharaoh’s tomb. I’m lucky I’m not strung up in a net as it is.”

  McKenzie looked to the ceiling, where a series of bed-sheets dangled in some elaborate contraption. Then he pulled Denton out to the landing and shut the door.

  “Speak,” McKenzie said forcefully.

  Denton managed to keep his cool, even though it seemed the coach was about to explode.

  “You walk through that door and you’ll be hanging by your ankles in less than a second. They were up all night setting a trap for you. And it really works. They tested it.”

  “Is that so?” McKenzie said.

  “I’m afraid it is,” Denton said plainly. “The plan was to trap you, and all five of us were going to walk out the door.”

  McKenzie stared at Denton. He motioned to him to sit on a small plastic chair that was set in the corner, then stood in front of him, hands on hips.

  “And you tell me this … why?” McKenzie said.

  “Because I hate them,” Denton said, a bead of sweat surfacing on his forehead. “They don’t listen to me. They’re like everyone else. They tease me. And I’m fed up with it.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to stop them from getting through the door. I don’t want them to succeed.”

  From behind the door, the sound of a buzzer went off. It lasted a few seconds and then went silent. It was followed by low, mumbling voices.

  “They’re awake,” Denton said.

  “And you’re gone,” McKenzie said. “What are they gonna think of that?”

  “Honestly, I don’t care,” Denton said. “Heck, if you want to hand me over to Snodgrass, go ahead. I’m just hoping those guys are scared right now. After all the mischief they’ve been up to, they deserve it. They don’t respect authority. They don’t follow instructions. They have no concept of the importance of wisdom.”

  “Is that so?” McKenzie said, taking a seat on one of the steps leading down to the landing. There would be no sneaking past him—he blocked the entire stairwell.

  Denton looked across the landing at him. “What do you expect from a gang of dweebs?”

  The coach eyed him suspiciously. “They’re good guys, you know,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve spent six days in there with them,” McKenzie said. “And you still can’t see that?”

  “I see where I am right now,” Denton said. “And it’s exactly where I need to be.”

  Chapter 19

  WENDELL

  The light from the desk lamp in Snodgrass’s office reflected nicely off Wendell’s bald head, redirecting itself to the darkened window. The sun would be up soon; Wendell had to work fast. He carefully sprinkled flour on the computer keyboard, just a light dusting that was barely noticeable in the dark.

  He ran his hand over his head. It was so weird to feel stubble where his hair used to be.

  Wendell stood up and walked across Snodgrass’s office. He opened the door to the closet and stepped inside. As he pulled the door shut, he stepped into a bowl of water. A bowl of water? A dog’s bowl?

  • • •

  Only one hour before, he had been back in the room sitting in a chair.

  “Why do we have to shave my head again?” Wendell had asked Bijay, who was standing behind him with hair clippers poised.

  “If we glue your hair to the fake heads, then it will be more convincing,” Elijah explained as he stuffed lumps of clothes under some blankets. He then placed a volleyball wrapped in papier-mâché on a pillow. Wendell could see that in the dark, the setup might pass for a group of sleeping boys.

  “And combined with the tapes of snoring, the alarm clock, and the debate club you connected to the timer,” Bijay went on, “it should be enough to trick McKenzie.”

  “Then it’s up to me,” Denton said, his voice wavering more than Wendell had ever heard. “I just have to chat him up for, what … three hours?”

  “You’ll do fine,” Elijah said confidently.

  There was a sound at the door. As it swung open, they all stopped. Eddie emerged from the darkness on the other side. Stepping into the room, he held the Sudoku puzzle in the air and said, “Open sesame! The codes work. Every single door, even Snodgrass’s office. Thanks to Nurse Bloom, we’re in business.”

  Now in the closet in Snodgrass’s office, shaking water off his foot, Wendell was where he needed to be.

  “In position,” he whispered into the microphone he had rigged up to a homemade headset.

  “In position,” he heard Bijay’s voice echo back. Then he heard Eddie say the same thing, and then Elijah.

  They were ready.

  Wendell waited in the silence for a few minutes, until he heard footsteps in the hall and someone opening the door to the office.

  The sun was now coming up, and there was enough light angling through the window and a big enough crack in the closet door for Wendell to watch Snodgrass slink to his desk.

  “The snake is in the grass,” Wendell whispered into his microphone.

  Snodgrass carried himself like a man who had total control. Like a man of purpose, a man of confidence. A foolish man, for he did exactly what Wendell wanted him to do. He sat down at his computer and typed in his user name and password. The screen lit up, displaying his desktop wallpaper—an absur
d photo of Snodgrass with his thumb at his chin as if he were contemplating the deepest of thoughts.

  Wendell tapped his microphone three times, the signal.

  Not more than a second later, there was a rattling noise in the hall.

  Eddie.

  Snodgrass stopped, stood, and walked cautiously to the door. He craned his neck around and into the hall. Wendell knew it would be empty, and Eddie would be hidden up in the ceiling, shaking a maraca he had borrowed from the music room.

  When the sound came again, it was farther down the hall, but loud enough that Snodgrass stepped out of the office.

  Perfect.

  Quietly, Wendell emerged from the closet and headed straight to the computer. He set his watch down next to the keyboard and turned on its light. The flour he had sprinkled on the keys glowed. He could easily see Snodgrass’s fingerprints.

  He grabbed a pen off the desk and wrote the letters on his hand: E R O A S D G L X N.

  Then Wendell blew lightly across the keyboard, sending the flour into the air like pollen. He snatched up his watch and backed into the closet. He knew Snodgrass would return at any moment.

  His prediction was right. Snodgrass stepped into the office, a look of annoyance on his face. “Lousy old pipes,” he grumbled.

  He hurried to his desk, where he sat down, lifted up the phone, and dialed a number.

  “Hello, sir…. Yes, it’s me again…. Tomorrow, day of reckoning…. Yes, sir…. You have my guarantee…. We shall see, oh, we shall see…. What can I say, other bidders, others with uses for it…. Understood, and it’s one of many generous offers…. And to you as well.”

  He placed the phone down, smiling to himself. Then he hunched over his computer.

  Through a crack in the closet door, Wendell tried to see what was on Snodgrass’s computer screen. He had no idea what kind of wickedness the vice principal could be up to. Was he e-mailing his coconspirators at Mackers? Or plotting more evil to unleash on Ho-Ho-Kus Junior High? Or covering his tracks, framing more people, disguising what actually happened to Nurse Bloom?

  After what seemed like an eternity of silence, a cackle like machine-gun fire suddenly burst from Snodgrass. He doubled over in his chair.

  “Priceless,” Snodgrass said between his hideous giggles. “Xerxes has got to see this one!”

  Over Snodgrass’s curled back, Wendell could finally spy the computer screen. A short video was playing on a loop, over and over again. It started with a small cat sitting in front of a short fence. The cat eyed it for a moment, then jumped. But he didn’t quite clear the fence. His stomach struck the edge of it, sending him into a flip and landing him on his back on the other side. It was an uncharacteristically clumsy move for a feline, and had made Wendell laugh the first time he saw it. But that was two years ago, and he hadn’t laughed nearly as hard as Snodgrass.

  “Stupid stinkin’ cat!” Snodgrass bellowed, spinning around in his chair like a child. He gave a high-pitched, satisfied sigh and said, “Oh, Xerxes will love it!”

  Then Snodgrass was on his feet. He hurried to the door, and before Wendell could figure out what exactly was happening, the door was closing.

  “The snake is slithering. The snake is slithering,” Wendell said into his microphone. “Is it almost time?”

  “Almost there,” Eddie’s voice came back.

  “Someone’s here,” Elijah said, a clanging sound in the background, then a crash.

  “Elijah?” Wendell said. There was no response.

  The only other thing Wendell could hear was muffled talking. He figured Bijay must have placed the microphone in his pocket. Bijay was out of contact too.

  It did no good to worry about the others. He looked at the letters written on his hand: E R O A S D G L X N. He could use them to spell Snodgrass. Then he was left with E, L, and X.

  “What’s Snodgrass’s first name?” Wendell said into the microphone.

  Eddie was the only one to respond. “Nurse Bloom called him Lionel.”

  Of course! It was all so simple.

  Wendell burst through the closet door. He was still alone in the office, but this was a big risk—Snodgrass could return at any moment. That darn user name and password had been haunting Wendell for the last couple of days. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

  He hefted himself into Snodgrass’s chair and pulled up to the computer. The screen was blank except for the security panel. He typed slowly, careful not to make any mistakes.

  USER NAME: LSNODGRASS

  PASSWORD: XERXES

  Welcome to Ho-Ho-Net! Administrator access granted.

  The first bell of the day rang out. Homeroom would be starting in a few minutes.

  Chapter 20

  ELIJAH

  Elijah stood in front of a mirror in the girls’ locker room. He wet his fingers in the sink and then ran them through his hair. It always surprised him how long his hair could get when it was wet. His dripping bangs hung down as far as his chin. He wiped his wet hands over the large H on the polyester shirt he had just pulled on.

  He had been there for what seemed like hours when he sensed something moving through the room. My imagination, he thought. I’m just tense.

  Though he couldn’t help wondering if the growling beast was close by. He couldn’t help but worry that Coach McKenzie had sniffed out Denton’s ruse, and was now back in the gym searching for him. From his pocket, he pulled out the speech he had written. He whispered the words to himself. By this point, he had it memorized, but the repetition set him at ease.

  A series of metallic clangs invaded the darkness. It sounded as though someone was running their hand across the locks and locker doors. And there was nothing imaginary about it.

  Elijah stood up from the bench and walked backward slowly. When he reached the wall, he slid along with his shoulders pressed against it until he was in the darkest corner of the room.

  “Someone’s here,” Elijah whispered into his microphone.

  Before he could make out who it was, a person came running at him and slammed him up against the lockers. His earbud popped out of his ear and the microphone fell to the floor. Two eyes locked onto his. He was now nose to nose with Tyler Kelly.

  Neither of them said a word to each other until the first bell rang out.

  “Hey, old buddy,” Tyler said. “You’re gonna be late for homeroom.”

  Tyler’s breath stank. His hair was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot.

  “Uhhh …”

  “Jeez, JK Scowling,” Tyler said. “I thought you’d be happy to see your pal Tyler.”

  Elijah gulped and responded, “Just surprised is all.”

  Tyler took a deep breath, and it almost looked as if he was going to cry. Then his voice suddenly got serious. “What’s happening to me?” he said.

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  Tyler eased his grip on Elijah’s shirt. “There was a room,” he said. “And you guys were asking me questions. I wasn’t really thinking about what I was saying. The words were just coming out.”

  “Yeah?” Elijah said.

  “And when I got home and went to bed, there was something I just couldn’t get out of my brain. We were friends, you and me. You know, back when we were kids.”

  “We still are kids,” Elijah corrected him.

  “You know what I mean,” Tyler said. “Anyway, I was thinking about our prank phone calls. And I was remembering all the crazy stuff I’ve done. And I started to feel a bit bad about it all. Now I always feel a bit bad about it all. But on Monday, I hadn’t felt bad, I hadn’t felt good. I hadn’t felt anything all day. I hadn’t felt real. You get me?”

  “I think so,” Elijah said softly.

  “I realized I needed to feel real. So the next morning, I forced myself to remember more things. And the more I remembered, the more I realized that something was wrong. So I’ve been skipping school. I’ve been hanging out in the woods behind the football field during the day. Principal Phipps hid his car
back there, and I’ve been just sitting in it. Whenever my head starts feeling less real, I just get in the backseat and try to remember things until … it gets real again.”

  “Phipps’s car is in the woods?”

  “Listen!” Tyler snapped. “I’m not finished. My head is still all over the place. And everyone in school is acting crazy. But you seem fine. All I want you to do is tell me if I’m going to feel, you know, completely real again.”

  “Have you been eating Mackers?” Elijah asked.

  “Not for days,” Tyler said. “I really want to, though.”

  “You’re stronger than most. It’s the Mackers that’s doing it,” Elijah said. “And I bet you’ll keep feeling better if you stay away from that garbage.”

  “You think?”

  “I hope.”

  It was at that moment that Elijah remembered when he had met Tyler. It was on the first day of the first grade. They had been sitting at the same lunch table. They didn’t say much to each other as they ate, but Elijah remembered the look on Tyler’s face. It was best described as devastated.

  “What’s the matter?” Elijah had asked.

  “I had ice cream money,” Tyler had whispered. “But I accidentally threw it out with my lunch bag.”

  Elijah had reached into his pocket and pulled out four quarters. He had slid them across the table to Tyler, and the next thing he knew they were friends.

  Tyler had that same devastated look on his face right now. It clung there for a moment, then fell away as he finally looked Elijah up and down. “You’re dressed like a girl,” he said. “Why are you dressed like a girl?”

  “Because I’m … we’re … going to make things how they were,” Elijah said confidently.

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” Tyler said. “Let me ask you this, though. Do you know how I came to school this morning?”

  “No idea.”

  “You will, Eliza. All of them will.” Tyler took a step back, winked, then gave Elijah a gentle shove against the lockers.

  “Oh, there they are,” Tyler said, looking down and reaching into a trash can in the corner and pulling out a handful of papers. “Right where the note said they would be.”