“First of all, I would like to extend my apologies to all of you for having been placed in the terrible situation that occurred at the Portsmouth Museum of Historical Artifacts,” Principal Funkmeyer began. “It was a tragic case of bad luck that our school was attending a field trip at the museum when the disaster struck. Who could have predicted that a faulty gas line would erupt and ignite, causing the entire place to be destroyed? Yes, it was a terrible case of bad luck, indeed.”
At these words, Maria and Sara exchanged a knowing glance with one another. The Portsmouth Fire Department had theorized that the museum’s destruction had been caused by the failure of a gas line in the building’s basement level, which had resulted in an irreversible chain reaction of fires and explosions.
But the sisters knew better. They had been there, and they had witnessed the true cause of the disaster. There had been no faulty gas line. The museum had been brought down by the rampage of Pan Gu, once Jasper and Ebenezer had foolishly awakened the creature.
The fiends had quickly realized controlling the monster was far beyond their ability, and Pan Gu’s wrath had been unstoppable. The creature had torn the museum apart in its quest to escape. That, however, was a truth that was shared by precious few people.
“As your principal, I feel personally responsible for the health and well being of each and every one of you,” Principal Funkmeyer continued, glancing down at the notes that were scattered before him on the podium. “Therefore, I am deeply saddened that a decision on my part - to authorize the field trip - resulted in placing so many of my students in harm’s way. I stand before you today and humbly offer my apology.”
Principal Funkmeyer’s words were heartfelt, and his apology was sincere. However, the vast majority of students had enjoyed themselves on the exciting field trip, and no apology was required. The fact that the museum had exploded just made it an especially memorable occasion, as far as they were concerned.
“I’m so happy that none of you were injured, and we owe a special debt of gratitude to the dog known as ‘Nibbler’,” Principal Funkmeyer said. “For it was that furry fellow who bravely penetrated the fiery perimeter of the museum in its final, crumbling moments, when even the fire department could not do so. He located and escorted to safety two of our students, Sara and Maria, as well as a member of the museum staff, Evelyn Magellan.”
The sisters smiled sheepishly at the mention of their names. They attempted to slouch down in their seats as hundreds of eyes from their classmates turned in their direction.
“Countless, priceless artifacts were lost in the tragedy, but you, our students, are far more valuable - and we didn’t lose a single one of you! And though I’m extremely grateful that all of you escaped unscathed, I’m afraid to say that we did experience a loss on the day of the museum disaster,” Principal Funkmeyer said, redirecting the attention of the assembled students back toward him.
Sara grimaced, for she knew what was coming. From the corner of her mouth, she whispered to her sister, “I can’t believe he’s going to shed a tear for Jasper. That doorknob was responsible for the whole thing to begin with!”
“It is with a heavy heart that I report to you that our school janitor, Jasper Cragglemeister, has still not been found. He, along with museum staff member Eli Weatherbee, was still in the building when it succumbed to the flames and collapsed. Mr. Cragglemeister was serving as a chaperone for our field trip at the time, and he undoubtedly stayed behind in a valiant gesture, trying to ensure that all of our students, children he was responsible for protecting, were able to safely evacuate.”
The principal’s theory as to why Jasper had stayed behind was so far off the mark, the sisters were forced to bury their faces in their hands. They stifled their giggles, fearing that laughter would be perceived as insensitivity by the principal.
Jasper wasn’t a hero. He was the opposite, in fact - a villain, a fiend, a scoundrel. He was a lout, a goon, a galoot, and a great big meanie, to boot. He was, as the sisters had come to call him, a doorknob, meaning that while he might be quite smart on an intellectual level, he was remarkably clueless, in general terms.
Frankly, Jasper was giving janitors everywhere a bad name, and he was a very poor ambassador indeed for all those labored with broom and mop. He hadn’t stayed behind to help anybody - in fact, he would have gladly been the first to flee, were it possible.
He was a troublemaker who always put his own interests before those of others. In a fitting twist of fate, however, his diabolical scheming had backfired to the point where not only had his plans been thwarted, but so too had his escape.
“Why, these poor boys here have been without their father ever since the disaster,” Principal Funkmeyer said somberly, pointing toward the front row of the auditorium.
Jebediah and Cletus, Jasper’s sons, sat side by side. As far as middle graders went, they were hulking galoots, genetically endowed with unusual size for their age. As Principal Funkmeyer pointed toward them, the boys adopted sad eyes, shaking their heads remorsefully.
A low murmur rippled throughout the auditorium. The students had lived in fear of Jasper and his mahogany broom, and none of them missed the cantankerous janitor. Jebediah and Cletus were mean spirited bullies, and it was hard for anybody to feel sorry for them, even if they were currently without their father.
Principal Funkmeyer cleared his throat and continued. “The search efforts are ongoing, and we haven’t abandoned hope that Jasper and Mr. Weatherbee will be found alive among the wreckage. In the meantime, however, we must make every effort to pull together. The school is currently without a janitor, and Jasper’s absence is already obvious.”
This, the sisters grudgingly admitted, was true. Jasper was a first rate scoundrel, but there was no denying that he was one heck of an effective janitor. He was obsessed with cleanliness, and he kept the school in tiptop condition, swishing and swooshing with his broom as he moved about the hallways, scouring with rags and cleaning solutions, and brandishing a mop with surgical precision.
“The hallways, in particular, have been falling into a state of disrepair. There’s been some litter here and there, with things like scraps of paper, candy bar wrappers, and paperclips. And for some reason, there have been nuts and bolts and spare screws lying around on the floors of the hallways. I don’t know what that’s all about, but please see that it comes to an end,” Principal Funkmeyer said.
Upon hearing this odd piece of information, Maria and Sara scrunched their eyebrows and exchanged a glance of curiosity with one another. They had noticed this as well, and they wondered what such weirdness might imply.
“Please take care to deposit your trash in the proper receptacles, and do try to avoid scuffing the floor with your shoes - you know how Mr. Cragglemeister found those scuffs so irritating.” Principal Funkmeyer paused for a sigh before resuming his list of requests. “Finally, there is the subject of food fights in the cafeteria. With Jasper gone, it seems like some of you have taken it upon yourselves to start lobbing foodstuffs at one another willy-nilly.”
A wave of giggles erupted throughout the auditorium.
“Though there has been nothing quite as outlandish as the epic food fight that occurred recently with the vat of corn chowder…”
Maria and Sara shared a chuckle, recalling the food fight the principal was referencing. Neil and Jack had been beside them as they had utilized oranges, pears, and pudding cups, battling the enraged Cragglemeister Brothers.
Jebediah and Cletus had ended up covered from head to toe in frothy corn chowder, and they would never forgive that embarrassment. As the principal mentioned that particular food fight (accurately deeming it “epic”), the brothers shifted in their seats, glowering at any nearby students who were heard giggling.
“Please, students, this is no laughing matter. You must take the subject of preventing food fights seriously!” Principal Funkmeyer begged.
Shuffling through his notes for inspiration, he gathered his breath and was about to deliver
a lecture on cafeteria cleanliness.
But he didn’t have the chance.
With the suddenness of a flipped switch, the many lights of the auditorium went out, and the place was plunged into darkness.
Chapter Four
The Breeze You Feel
The Green Beans, Volume 5: The Phantom of the Auditorium Page 3