Treasure Fever!

by Andy Griffiths

  ‘No,’ said Mr Brainfright, ‘we can do something much more fun with it. Let me demonstrate.’

  Mr Brainfright placed his banana peel carefully on the floor in front of his desk, yellow side up, and went to the door. Then, without warning, he ran and jumped on his banana peel, skidding about three metres before losing his balance and falling against the blackboard with a whoop of joy.

  Just when we thought we’d seen everything, we saw something new.

  We saw a teacher skidding on a banana peel.

  And not by accident, either.

  This was deliberate.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Mr Brainfright, ‘that wasn’t a very good one. What if I put the banana peel closer to the door and then took a run-up from the corridor? That would give me a longer ride.’

  ‘Should I measure it?’ asked Fiona.

  ‘Great idea,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Let’s do this properly.’

  Mr Brainfright repositioned the banana, went out into the corridor, and bent down in a crouch.

  ‘Count me down, Class 5C!’ he said.

  We were only too happy to oblige.

  ‘TEN!’ we yelled. ‘NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!’

  Mr Brainfright took off explosively. He burst through the door and jumped onto the banana peel and sailed right across the room, this time without falling over.

  He punched the air.

  We cheered.

  ‘Three and a half metres!’ announced Fiona, tape measure in her hand.

  ‘That’s more like it!’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Who thinks they can beat that?’

  Of course we all put up our hands.

  The next ten minutes was the most fun any of us have ever had in a classroom. We threw down our banana peels and started skidding.

  We experimented with placing the banana peel right side up compared to upside down. Long run-ups versus short run-ups. Yelling as you ran compared to quiet runs.

  There were a lot of collisions, sure, but we learned more about skidding on banana peels in that ten minutes than most of us had learned in the last ten years.

  The skidding only lasted ten minutes due to the fact that Mrs Cross appeared in the middle of it all.

  She was cross.

  As cross as I’ve ever seen her.

  Maybe even crosser.

  If that was possible.

  But not as cross as she was about to get.

  38

  Mrs Cross gets REALLY cross

  ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ she yelled.

  ‘Skidding on banana peels!’ said David.

  ‘Do you want to have a turn?’ asked Fiona. ‘You can borrow mine if you like. I’m not actually skidding. I’m recording the results. I’m going to make a graph.’

  ‘Where’s your teacher?’ Mrs Cross demanded.

  ‘Outside on the steps,’ said David. ‘He wanted to get a really good run-up to break his own skidding record.’

  ‘What are you talking about, you silly boy?’ said Mrs Cross.

  At that moment we heard the sound of heavy footsteps.

  ‘Here he comes!’ said David. ‘You’d better move out of the way! I’ll explain later.’

  But it was too late.

  Mrs Cross, dumbfounded, just stood there gaping as Mr Brainfright charged into the room.

  She continued to stand there gaping as Mr Brainfright launched himself onto his banana peel and skidded heroically across the floor towards her.

  She was still standing there gaping when he slammed into her.

  Then she wasn’t standing there anymore, although she was still gaping.

  She was also flying through the air.

  Flying through the air—and then flying out the window!

  39

  Mrs Cross gets even crosser, maybe even the crossest she’s ever been

  Mr Brainfright crashed heavily into his desk and then fell down.

  ‘Ooof!’ he said as he lay there sprawled on the floor. ‘Somebody please tell me that I didn’t just bump into Mrs Cross and knock her out the window.’

  The class was silent.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mr Brainfright, getting up and rubbing his head. ‘So I did just bump into Mrs Cross and knock her out the window.’

  We nodded.

  Mr Brainfright went to the window.

  We all followed him.

  Poor Mrs Cross. I knew just how she felt.

  She was lying on her back in Mr Spade’s freshly dug flowerbed, looking up at us.

  ‘I suppose you all think this is funny!’ she shouted.

  ‘No, of course not, Mrs Cross,’ Mr Brainfright called down. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Cross, picking herself up out of the dirt, ‘but you’re not going to be by the time I get through with you!’

  ‘Please don’t hurt me, Mrs Cross,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘It was an accident! It could have happened to anybody.’

  ‘I’m not going to hurt you, Brainfright,’ said Mrs Cross. ‘But I am going to report you to Principal Greenbeard. I’ll see to it that you never work in this school ever again!’

  And with that, Mrs Cross stormed off across the playground towards Principal Greenbeard’s office.

  Mr Brainfright came away from the window and shook his head. ‘Work?’ he said. ‘What’s she talking about? I’ve never “worked” a day in my life. Especially not with this class. This is what I call fun!’

  40

  The talk

  After we’d picked up all the banana peels and put all the desks and chairs back into order, we took our seats.

  ‘What do you think is going to happen to Mr Brainfright?’ Jenny whispered to me.

  ‘Nothing will happen,’ I whispered back. ‘Mrs Cross will blow off a bit of steam in Principal Greenbeard’s office, cool down, go back to her class, and everything will go on as usual. It’s not the first time she’s been cross with Mr Brainfright, you know.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, Henry.’

  Mr Brainfright was in the middle of drawing a large banana on the blackboard when there was a knock on the door.

  It was Principal Greenbeard. He saluted Mr Brainfright. ‘Sorry to interrupt you in mid flow, but I wonder if you wouldn’t mind dropping anchor for a moment and accompanying me into the gangway?’

  ‘Certainly,’ said Mr Brainfright, quickly finishing his drawing of a banana. ‘Copy this picture into your workbooks, please, 5C. And then I want you to write fifty words describing what your banana tasted like. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Mr Brainfright and Principal Greenbeard left the room.

  The class was silent.

  I could see Mr Brainfright’s and Principal Greenbeard’s heads as they stood and talked in the corridor, but despite how quiet everyone was I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

  Every now and then, though, Principal Greenbeard would raise his voice and I caught a few words, like ‘not acceptable’, ‘shape up or ship out’, ‘review your position’ and ‘stay on course and stick to the program . . . or else.’

  Mr Brainfright came back into the room.

  ‘Close your workbooks,’ he said quietly.

  ‘But I haven’t finished drawing my banana,’ said Fiona.

  ‘Or me,’ said David.

  ‘Never mind that now,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Apparently it is very important that we stick to the program. Can anybody tell me what you would normally be doing at this time of the week?’

  ‘A spelling test,’ said Fiona.

  The rest of the class groaned.

  Mr Brainfright sighed. ‘A spelling test,’ he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. ‘Of all the amazing things we could be doing . . . but . . . no . . . must stick to the program. Very well, a spelling test is what we shall have.’

  ‘Will we be tested on that?’ asked Fiona.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘I’m no expert, but I believe that’s the general idea of a spelling test.’

 
‘Here’s the book,’ said Fiona, handing him her copy of Spelling is Fun. ‘We’re up to test number twenty-two.’

  ‘Spelling is fun,’ said Mr Brainfright, reading the title aloud and then repeating it as if he was trying to convince himself of its truth. ‘Spelling is fun. Spelling is fun. Spelling is fun!’

  It was sad to see Mr Brainfright like this.

  One minute he was teaching us how to skid on a banana peel, the next he was conducting a spelling test.

  I glanced at Jenny. She was right to have been worried.

  Whatever Principal Greenbeard had said to Mr Brainfright, it had sure taken the wind out of his sails.

  ‘Is everybody ready?’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘The first word is “jumper”.’

  ‘Can you spell that for us?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Nice try, Jack,’ said Mr Brainfright, ‘but I think the idea of a spelling test is that you try to spell the word yourself.’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct,’ said Fiona.

  ‘Can you put it in a sentence for us?’ said David. ‘Mrs Chalkboard always did.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Mr Brainfright, looking out the window. ‘Jumper. It was cold so I put on my jumper.’

  We all wrote the word down.

  ‘The next word is “picture”,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘That is a nice picture on the wall.’

  I wondered if he was talking about the picture of the human digestive system or the picture of the inside of a decayed tooth. Neither seemed that nice to me.

  ‘Eager,’ said Mr Brainfright, stifling a yawn. ‘I am eager for this spelling test to end.’

  There was laughter. That was more like the Mr Brainfright we’d come to know and love.

  ‘Pyramid,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘I was involved in the archaeological dig that uncovered the lost pyramid of King Aha!’

  ‘Is that true?’ asked Gretel.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘I’ll never forget the pyramid of King Aha! It had a curse on it. I didn’t believe in curses then. I do now, though.’

  ‘W-what happened?’ said Newton.

  ‘I was part of a major international expedition,’ Mr Brainfright explained. ‘We had been digging for many weeks and then one day I accidentally uncovered the entrance with a single pick swing. The ground underneath me gave way and before I knew it I’d fallen through an intricate system of corridors right into the central chamber of the tomb. King Aha! wasn’t too happy, I can tell you!’

  ‘King Aha! was still alive?’ said Jack.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Mr Brainfright, ‘he’d been dead for over three thousand years . . . but his mummified remains were lively enough! The mummy came at me across the chamber like a freight train. Headbutted me right in the stomach. Knocked me on my back and completely winded me. It was attempting to smother me when I drew my dagger and reduced the mummy to a pile of harmless bandages.’

  ‘And that was the end of it?’ asked Jenny. ‘The physical end of it, yes,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘But the mummy still visits me regularly in my dreams to finish what it started and fulfil the curse. Not that I mind too much. It keeps me on my toes and my dagger skills are second to none. It’s a vicious beast, though. If I don’t turn up at school one day, you’ll know that the mummy has finally got the better of me.’

  We all just stared at Mr Brainfright.

  Well, all except Newton, who had his eyes shut tight.

  The last bell rang.

  We all jumped.

  Newton screamed.

  ‘Class dismissed,’ said Mr Brainfright.

  We left the class slowly, our heads full of rampaging mummies.

  41

  Meeting

  ‘Do you think he was telling the truth?’ said Gretel, as we stood at the lockers.

  ‘Probably not,’ said Jack. ‘But it was a great story. Really freaky.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Newton. ‘I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. Or tomorrow night. Probably all week.’

  ‘It must be true,’ said Jenny. ‘He’s a teacher. Teachers don’t tell lies. Well, they’re not supposed to.’

  ‘They’re not supposed to fall out classroom windows, either,’ said Gretel. ‘But he does. What do you think, Henry?’

  ‘I think we should ask him to help us find the treasure,’ I said.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ said Jack. ‘He’s a teacher. He’s on their side. He won’t let us keep it.’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr Brainfright isn’t like the other teachers,’ I said. ‘Even when he tries to be, he can’t do it for long. And don’t forget, despite all our effort, we don’t even have the treasure. And there’s no guarantee we’ll ever get it, either. Mr Brainfright has been on an archaeological dig. He discovered a whole tomb! He’s our best chance.’

  ‘You’re right, Henry,’ said Jenny. ‘And Skull Island’s not going to be ours forever. Sooner or later Fred will realise we’ve given him a fake map, and then he’ll be back.’

  ‘And mad,’ said Newton with a shiver. ‘Maybe even madder than King Aha!’s mummy!’

  ‘I agree with Henry,’ said Gretel. ‘All in favour of asking Mr Brainfright to help us find the treasure, raise your hand.’

  Everybody raised their hand except Jack.

  ‘Sorry, Jack,’ said Gretel. ‘You’re outvoted.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he said.

  42

  Ask an expert

  Gretel, Jenny, Newton, Jack and I went back into the classroom.

  Mr Brainfright was sitting at his desk, staring into space.

  ‘Are you okay, Mr Brainfright?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘I’m just listening.’

  ‘Listening to what?’ said Jenny.

  ‘To everything!’

  We listened.

  ‘I can’t hear anything,’ said Jenny.

  ‘Listen more carefully,’ said Mr Brainfright.

  ‘I can hear a car,’ said Gretel.

  ‘And a bird,’ said Newton.

  ‘Wind,’ said Jack.

  ‘A dog barking,’ I said.

  ‘Very good,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘There’s always something new. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

  ‘We need your help,’ I said, ‘with something very old.’

  ‘Only too happy to help,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Can you keep a secret?’ I said.

  ‘Of course,’ said Mr Brainfright.

  ‘Cross your heart and hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?’

  ‘Well, I’m happy to cross my heart,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Not so keen on the dying . . . or the needle, for that matter.’

  ‘All right,’ I said, ‘we’ll let you off that. It’s about treasure. Buried treasure.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Very interesting. Where is this buried treasure?’

  ‘That’s the trouble,’ I said. ‘We don’t know exactly. But we do know it’s buried in the school grounds.’

  ‘Any idea where?’ asked Mr Brainfright.

  ‘Somewhere on that hill,’ I said, pointing out the window.

  ‘I see,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Well that narrows it down to quite a manageable search. But tell me, how did you find out about this treasure?’

  I told Mr Brainfright the whole story. I told him everything that Principal Greenbeard had told me and about our efforts to locate the treasure. I even showed him the key.

  At the end of my tale, Mr Brainfright’s eyes were shining. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Leave it to me. If there’s treasure there, we’ll find it . . . or my name isn’t Thaddeus Harold Brainfright!’

  43

  Preparation

  The next morning Mr Brainfright was not wearing his purple jacket.

  Or his orange shirt.

  Or his purple tie.

  He was wearing a khaki shirt and shorts, a pith helmet and a pair of dusty brown boo
ts.

  At the front of the classroom was a large pile of spades, picks and shovels. Next to these there were a few bundles of thin wooden stakes and some balls of twine.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Fiona. ‘Looks like Mr Brainfright has got treasure fever too.’

  ‘Good morning, 5C,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘I hope you’ve all had a good breakfast because we have a big morning ahead of us. How many of you have been on an archaeological dig before?’

  We all shook our heads.

  ‘Does digging for buried treasure count?’ said David.

  ‘It could,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘But often what archaeologists are looking for is not what we think of as “treasure”, but very ordinary everyday objects that allow us to build up a picture of how people lived in the past. In this sense, a piece of what you might at first think of as junk, such as a piece of chipped pottery, could be regarded as a great treasure.’

  ‘I’d rather find treasure than dumb old bits of chipped pottery,’ said Clive.

  ‘The point is, though,’ said Mr Brainfright, ‘that you never know what you’re going to find. That’s what makes it so exciting. Now, I know you’ve all been looking for buried treasure this week so I thought it might be an ideal opportunity to teach you some of the tricks of the trade. What do you think?’

  The class nodded enthusiastically.

  Not that anybody wanted to find bits of chipped pottery.

  We all had one thing on our minds.

  Buried treasure.

  Proper buried treasure.

  The only person not nodding enthusiastically was Jack. ‘I knew we shouldn’t have told a teacher!’ he said. ‘Now we’ll have to share the treasure with the rest of the class.’

  ‘Well, they were all looking for it anyway,’ said Gretel.

  ‘Yeah, but not in the right spot,’ said Jack. ‘They were never going to find it.’

  ‘Neither were we,’ I said. ‘Sharing something will be better than not having anything to share at all.’

  ‘Henry’s right, Jack,’ said Jenny. ‘Let’s not be greedy. Besides, if this treasure is half as valuable as we think it is, there’s going to be more than enough to go around.’