by Josh Berk
HamburgerHalpin: holy crap!
Smiley_Man3000: Hey, did you see Planders on the news?
HamburgerHalpin: uh uh uh yeah uh uh uh
Smiley_Man3000: It all has to be related somehow. And it all has to be related to this murder.
HamburgerHalpin: i really don’t think so frank. i think the thing at jp’s just had to do with him wanting to protect his crop and the thing with prefontaine might mean something but i’m not sure what. maybe it’s just a coincidence. and hey i never asked you: why wasn’t jp at the grammar rodeo or whatever?
Smiley_Man3000: Oh yeah, I asked my mom. Turns out it is next weekend. Sorry about that.
HamburgerHalpin: apology not accepted. and what the hell were you doing with that gun?
Smiley_Man3000: It’s a dangerous world out there, Chet. Life isn’t really a Hardy Boys novel.
HamburgerHalpin: no but man it was a helluva day
Smiley_Man3000: You don’t know the half of it.
HamburgerHalpin: what do you mean?
Smiley_Man3000: Something else happened.
HamburgerHalpin: a girl talked to you and you didn’t run screaming from the room?
Smiley_Man3000: Hey, I’ve had girlfriends.
HamburgerHalpin: they all live in canada?
Smiley_Man3000: Same place yours live.
HamburgerHalpin: i had a girlfriend next county over. she went to my old school with me. her name was ebony and she was great. but who cares? what else happened today? don’t keep the fat guy in suspense
Smiley_Man3000: My dad told me … Swear you won’t tell anyone that I’m giving you confidential police information?
HamburgerHalpin: i swear on leigha pennington’s sweet little tush
Smiley_Man3000: They have a crazy new suspect in Pat’s case.
HamburgerHalpin: are they tied into the vast republican conspiracy?
Smiley_Man3000: No! It’s you!
HamburgerHalpin: u r kidding
Smiley_Man3000: I told them they are way off.
HamburgerHalpin: waaaaaaaaaay off
Smiley_Man3000: I know! LOL. But I guess in one of the interviews with Detective Hawley, someone mentioned that crack Pat made about you that day, how he said something to Miner Carl about ghosts being fat.
HamburgerHalpin: thanks for reminding me
Smiley_Man3000: Yeah, well, I guess some genius thought maybe you were the one who did it then.
HamburgerHalpin: i see
Smiley_Man3000: But I told my dad they are barking up the wrong tree.
HamburgerHalpin: arf arf
Smiley_Man3000: I wouldn’t worry too much. If there is nothing to the Prefontaine or Porkrinds angles, I still think the best bet is A. J. Fischels. That brings us to the next part of the plan.
HamburgerHalpin: do i seem worried?
Smiley_Man3000: I just mean–I didn’t even tell you this–right after that thing with Hawley, they were looking at me as a suspect!
HamburgerHalpin: rly?
Smiley_Man3000: It is so dumb. I guess someone told them about how Pat used to bother me and stuff. As if someone would kill over that nonsense.
HamburgerHalpin: too absurd
Smiley_Man3000: I think Hawley just has it in for my dad and is trying to take it out on me.
HamburgerHalpin: prolly
Smiley_Man3000: Oh, and also they found a long black hair on Pat’s body. They thought it was from my awesome ponytail.
HamburgerHalpin: you do shed like a nervous poodle. but why are they looking at me? i haven’t had long hair since my unfortunate mullet in 4th grade
Smiley_Man3000: It turns out it was dog hair. At first they didn’t realize.
HamburgerHalpin: did u tell them about ace?
Smiley_Man3000: Nah. I said, “He’s deaf, not blind.” Jerks! Saved you the trouble of having to deal with the cops again. Although maybe I should have let you have the chance to see your girlfriend Melody again.
HamburgerHalpin: damn u frank!
Smiley_Man3000: So, next part of the plan. We sneak into school tomorrow, check out the security camera footage of everyone being interviewed in Kroener’s office. You’ll read their lips, and we’ll know what everyone said!
HamburgerHalpin: there won’t be anything in those tapes the cops don’t already know about
Smiley_Man3000: Yeah, but they don’t know what we know. I bet we could get clues that they missed. I’m sure of it! It’s flawless!
HamburgerHalpin: i can think of about 47 flaws and i’m not even trying that hard
Smiley_Man3000: Like what?
HamburgerHalpin: like the fact that your last flawless plan resulted in a hail of gunfire
Smiley_Man3000: A minor miscalculation.
HamburgerHalpin: and how are we going to get in? how do we even know how to use the equipment? and do you have any idea how many hours it would take to lip-read and transcribe all those tapes?
Smiley_Man3000: For the first two points, just relax and trust in the Smileyman. I swear, I have a great plan this time. And to speed up the process, well, that’s easy: we bring backup.
HamburgerHalpin: what the hell do u mean?
Smiley_Man3000: You claim to have a certain ex-girlfriend who is a fantastic lip-reader. Unless you were lying about her existence.
HamburgerHalpin: ebony is real! unlike your canadian “girlfriend” that you wish you had
Smiley_Man3000: If she’s real, then let her know I’ll pick her up in the Smileywagon tomorrow. The building will still be open for in-service teacher training.
HamburgerHalpin: i can’t believe i’m doing this but fine i’ll ask if she’s up for it. i can’t make any promises though
Smiley_Man3000: Awesome! Flawless!
HamburgerHalpin: stop saying that. and leave the pistol at home will ya?
I still have Ebony as a “buddy” even though we haven’t chatted in a while. It didn’t end badly or anything—it was just a growing apart based to some extent on a (possibly stupid) dispute that led to me leaving the school and her behind. It might not make any sense if you’re not deaf. Allow me to explain anyway. Ebony is a lot like me. At first glance you might not think so, since she’s black and really cute, and I’m, well, not. But we both grew up with “problems with our ears” but could hear somewhat for most of our early lives. (That’s how come I can read lips and write so well.) But Ebony is sort of a political deaf person who agrees with a lot of “prelingually” deaf people. These people usually have sign language as a first language and sometimes don’t learn English at all. (And, yes, sign language is a totally different language from English, with its own grammar and everything. Technically, I’m bilingual, which is cool.) They also often have strong feelings about “deaf culture” and really like to harangue you in signed webcam diatribes if you are a postlingually deaf smart-ass who posts aberrant views on their message boards. I have a lot in common with them, like how I refuse to wear hearing aids and prefer sign language over speaking, but with me that’s not part of some grand political stance.
So Ebony and I were joking once about having deaf babies, which was definitely a joke, since we didn’t even get all the way to second base. (I guess you could say I got thrown out trying to stretch a single into a double?) I said something about how we’d have to look into the cochlear implant so our deaf baby could hear. Upon hearing this (hah), Ebony got seriously pissed. The cochlear implant is sometimes called the bionic ear, a device that is implanted in your head (or something, I’m not a surgeon) that lets deaf people hear. Any chance to be a bionic anything would be cool, but Ebony (and, to be fair, lots of deaf people) gets really mad about the idea that deafness is a disability and something you need to be cured of. People who are deaf should be damn proud of it, she said. More power to them, I said, but I’d want our baby to be able to hear if it was an option. This was so theoretical that I can’t believe we had a fight about it, especially since the baby, which didn’t exist, probably wouldn’t be a candidate for the bionic ear anyway, sin
ce you have to have a certain type of deafness, which neither Ebony nor I do.
So she got pissed, and we never got to make babies or even round another base. And then we broke up. And maybe we weren’t really “boyfriend and girlfriend” to begin with. We just chatted online a lot, goofed on everyone together, and awkwardly made out once in a shed.
Devon’s plan won’t work without another lip-reader. And Ebony is ridiculously good. She is the one who should have been in mainstream ed at CHS. But maybe she doesn’t care what other people think. And maybe she is onto something. Who wants to be normal anyway?
I check my buddy list and see that she is indeed online. Deaf people seriously love themselves some Internet.
HamburgerHalpin: what’s up you cretin?
Def4Life: omg, heapin’ halpin! i was just thinking about u!
HamburgerHalpin: i do have that effect on the ladies. i’m the hottest deaf guy since lou ferrigno
Def4Life: don’t flatter yourself–have u ever checked out how fine his ass was?
HamburgerHalpin: can’t say that i have
Def4Life: well, u definitely should. the hulk wore those torn little pants. damn!
HamburgerHalpin: shockingly i never noticed
Def4Life: i could talk about lou ferrigno’s ass all day, but that’s probably not why you messaged me. so what is up?
HamburgerHalpin: first why don’t u tell me why u were thinking about me?
Def4Life: since the other day–i was wondering if u were on that field trip where that public school kid died. u know–after u abandoned me.
HamburgerHalpin: yeah. that’s actually sort of why i wanted to talk to u
Def4Life: ?
HamburgerHalpin: i have this friend … he thinks we can solve the case
Def4Life: didn’t the kid just fall or whatever?
HamburgerHalpin: we r pretty sure he was pushed
Def4Life: !
HamburgerHalpin: yeah so my friend thinks we can figure out who did it if we break into the school and lip-read some surveillance tapes of cops interviewing the people at chs
Def4Life: and you need some blackup?
HamburgerHalpin: don’t u mean backup?
Def4Life: i stand by what i said.
HamburgerHalpin: so ummm yeah we could use your skills. your school is closed tomorrow for teacher in-service too right?
Def4Life: soooo, u come calling to the lip-reading champion. u admit that i’m better!
HamburgerHalpin: don’t flatter yourself. there’s just a lot of tapes and my friend thinks the only way we can get through them all is if–
Def4Life: i’ll do it.
HamburgerHalpin: wait what? u will?
Def4Life: sure! how exciting! it’ll be just like living out a nancy drew novel.
HamburgerHalpin: oh man u have got 2 b kidding me
Def4Life: what? i loved those books when i was little. what’s wrong with nancy drew? a lot of perfectly intelligent people like nancy drew!! even if she was a little racist …
HamburgerHalpin: sheesh. don’t wet yourself ebony. it’s just that this friend of mine devon smiley–he’s obsessed with the hardy boys.
Def4Life: it’s a real mystery! let’s go sleuthing!
HamburgerHalpin: yeah whatever. so we’ll pick you up real early tomorrow
Def4Life: i’m free in the morning, but i have karate in the afternoon.
HamburgerHalpin: why did u start taking karate?
Def4Life: to learn the best way to break the fingers of fat kids who try to stick their hands up my shirt. when did you get a car?
HamburgerHalpin: not mine. it’s devon’s
Def4Life: he’s got a car and is into daring hardy boys style adventure? seems like ur friend devon smiley is someone i def want to meet. c ya tomorrow, will halpin!
HamburgerHalpin: he’s not quite as cool as all that but yeah we’ll see ya at like 7 in the morning
I write back to Devon, who is already online too (he spends so much time on IM that, along with his skills at signing, I am thinking about making him an honorary deafie), and tell him Ebony is up for the plan. I have a few questions about the rest of his scheme, but all he will say is “Trust the Smileyman.”
I will go along with his plan. I have to. I want to see those tapes. I need to see those tapes.
Devon assures me that I don’t have to worry about the investigation into their “crazy new suspect,” but I feel the dance of nervous butterflies. I sit there thinking, breathing slowly, tapping on my keys, not really typing anything, just feeling the slick plastic beneath my fingers. Are we getting closer to the truth or further and further from it? Will I have to prove my own innocence?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Monday. We are off from school (one of those in-service days when teachers get paid for a day of work but just come to school to have a cocktail party in the teachers’ lounge—possibly?), but I have to get up early. Crime solving is inconvenient. I tell Mom we are going to school to participate in a vigil for Pat, a thing that actually is happening, although much later in the day.
I wait outside on the still-dew-moistened lawn for Devon’s beat-up former police car (aka the Smileywagon) to retrample Mom’s flowers. My notebook is out, and I am flipping through, rereading the notes I have accumulated on Carbon High. I also have my fake beard with me and am pulling it on just as Devon careens into the driveway. As expected, he mashes the mums. He gets out and tries to fix the damage, rescuing a damaged stalk and putting it in his pocket. He makes a face to let me know he is sorry about that. Then he starts cracking up and gestures for the pad and pencil.
“What’s up with the beard?” he writes. “This isn’t an undercover mission.”
I write back, “Oh yeah, I knew that.” Why am I wearing the beard? I shove it back in my pocket. Devon laughs. I force a weak grin. I had written out directions to Ebony’s place on a page in my notebook and flip to it, showing Devon the way. I spend most of the drive badgering Devon by breathing on the window to steam it up and then writing “WHAT IS THE FREAKING PLAN???” over and over again. Devon, unfortunately, has learned the sign for “Trust me.”
The Smileywagon pulls up to Ebony’s house. She is standing out front waiting for us, basically bouncing on her toes with excitement. Devon looks at her and then me and then her. He mouths, “She’s black.” I palm my cheek and act shocked. Devon shrugs and Ebony jumps in the back, waving happily to the both of us. I blow her a kiss. Devon still seems a little flustered by her unexpected blackitude. (Wasn’t the fact that her name is Ebony some sort of clue, Frank?) He obviously panics as he tries to remember the signs he had learned for the occasion. Then he signs, “Good morning! I am very happy to have us with you.” Nice try, Dev.
Ebony signs back very politely, “Nice ride,” even though it totally isn’t. The car lurches into drive, and we are off. Ebony notices the note I had written on the window. She taps Devon on the shoulder and points to it. Devon repeats his mantra: “Trust me.” Then he sideswipes a bush.
Since only teachers are in attendance, the school parking lot is sparsely populated. I can see that Ebony is confused by the fact that Devon parks at the extreme end of the lot near the soccer fields, past about a hundred closer spaces. I find myself thinking of Devon’s words from the Porkrinds mission and trying to convey in signs that it is to “secure our cover.” Oddly, Ebony actually seems to think this is a good idea. This must have been a maneuver in Nancy Drew in The Fat, Black, and Smiley Mystery.