by John Michael
Savani strolled over to him, took the bell and rang it three times.
He then passed her the scroll, which she unfurled and started to read.
“Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye! After very careful consideration, I, Savani Vivian Godfrey, have decided on my partner for the Great Quiz. It wasn’t an easy decision by any means. In all honesty, there were a number of worthy contenders but I refuse to work with anybody but the very best and there could only be one winner.”
The group of debaters stood motionless and expressionless − it was difficult to gauge from their appearance whether they were excited or if they had eaten some bad brabbensack curry for lunch. It couldn’t be easy having Savani as their leader.
“Fellow students, I give you Penelope Victoria Abercrombie.”
The gang of debaters politely applauded as a tall and graceful girl stepped forward from within the group. Penelope’s grey eyes flitted from person to person as she smiled and nodded. She was wearing a mauve tunic top with a kneelength pleated skirt and her blonde hair was tied into a neat ponytail. She had an air of eloquence about her, like she would know the difference between a dinner spoon and a soup spoon.
“Penelope has a brilliant mind, outstanding speaking skills, tremendous discipline and diligence. She was born and raised just outside of Quockingpoll Flats; a little town called Hawkesbury Heights. She has excelled in literature, history and mathematics, winning the student of the year award at her previous school. Penelope is fluent in Ancient Greek and Latin and has been awarded the prestigious Acutus Crustulum Award for languages. Furthermore, she has been in the winning team of the Hawkesbury Heights Trivia Championships three years running. Without further ado, I give you the one and only, Penelope Abercrombie!”
As Penelope walked over to Savani, I recognised her as the new student who had joined our Art class at the beginning of the term − she sat two rows in front of me and was quiet and unassuming but, when asked to answer a question, was always precise and articulate with her response.
Savani put her hand on Penelope’s shoulder and all the debaters offered another round of applause. Penelope responded with a slight curtsey but her gaze remained directed downwards.
Savani strolled up to me and looked me straight in the eye.
“Pretty impressive isn’t she Sootfell?”
I looked over at Penelope and despite the fanfare I got the feeling that she was somewhat embarrassed by all the attention.
“Um yeah... Penelope seems quite nice,” I uttered.
“Huh! Nice? Is that all you’ve got Sootfell?”
“There’s no ‘nice’ in this competition... we’re going to wipe the floor with you and your partner!”
“Well... I think that you might be in for a bit of a -”
“By the way... who is your partner?” queried Savani.
“My partner? Ha! You’re just dying to know... aren’t you?”
I quickly looked around and realised there weren’t too many options. The band of debaters had grouped together in a defensive huddle and I had the feeling that if I walked up to them, they would charge at me like threatened lemmings. On the left side was the squareheaded squat kid with the little brass bell but I couldn’t really ask him since I didn’t even know his name. Then there was Penelope, but let’s face facts, Savani had already snapped her up and boy, did she look smart! Bummer! The only other person left was Barney, who was standing to the side with his finger in his ear... he must have got some food caught in there. It seemed that I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I thought as I watched Barney shift his focus from his ear and start picking at his teeth with his fingernails. At least, as my best friend, Barney wouldn’t humiliate me in front of Savani and her gang by saying no. But then again, he might just turn me down flat! This was a tough call. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place! In this instance, the rock was 'an annoying Savani' and the hard place was 'an uncouth Barney.'
“Sootfell!” yelled Savani. “Do you have a partner or not?”
“Of course I do!”
“Well? Who is it?”
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to commit with my Barney choice but, in the end, it was a simple rule of mathematics − I had eliminated everybody else and there was only one person left standing. I just stood there dumbstruck, like a cow staring into the distance, dreaming of greener pastures.
“Sootfell! Don’t play hardball with me! According to the Queensbury Rules, regulation number 2.3 states...”
Savani clicked her fingers towards the square-headed squat fellow and he quickly ran towards her as he pulled a small black book out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. She quickly flicked through the pages and started reading.
“Regulation number 2.3 states that all participant’s names shall publicly be proclaimed or risk full forfeiture, and face the penalty of the stocks and shall be pelted with rotten turnips.”
“That’s a bit over the top isn’t it? Rotten turnips? I mean... that’s going to leave a sting. Someone’s gonna lose an eye! Rotten tomatoes I can understand... perhaps some mouldy mushrooms... or maybe even a bell-pepper or two... but rotten turnips? It just doesn’t seem -”
“Sootfell! Are you going to answer the question or are you going to bore us to death with your foolish drivel?”
Savani could sure be annoying, it wasn’t only what she said but also the way she said it. She had a real knack for rubbing you the wrong way.
“It’s Barney okay!” I blurted out.
“You’ve picked Tweedledum?” gasped Savani as she let out a boisterous laugh. Her debating troupe joined in and they cackled and guffawed for a good five minutes. Finally, Savani was able to compose herself and she reverted back to her sourpuss expression.
“No seriously?” she retorted.
“Of course I’m serious,” I replied as I looked over to Barney for reassurance.
Barney’s face, however, looked like someone had smacked him with a sack of spuds. He then sidled up to me and whispered in my ear. “Are you crazy?”
“C’mon Barn! It’ll be fun!”
“Fun? Yeah about as much fun as using toilet paper made out of sandpaper.”
“Yes, it’ll be... Huh? What are you on about?”
“My Uncle Louie is a real cheapskate and buys low grade toilet paper and –”
“Eeew! Never mind that. Think of it as an adventure Barney... we’ll be like the three musketeers, all for one and one for all!”
“Huh? With my Uncle Louie?”
“Uncle Louie? What? The toilet paper guy? No!”
“But there are only two of us,” whimpered Barney.
“Whatever! We’ll be the two musketeers then!”
“Aw... I dunno.”
“Come on buddy! We’ve gotten through worse than this − look at how we managed to beat Corporal Punishment.”
“But that was all you... all I did was rip my shorts and everyone saw my underwear and –”
“Yes but you believed in me... and you gave me support.
“Well, I guess that’s true... I did help you a little.”
“And what’s the worst thing that could happen? No one expects us to win anyway!”
“The worst thing? Well how about Savani ridiculing and mocking us for the rest of our high school years?”
“Hmm... good point Barney but won’t she be doing that anyway?”
“Well I guess so... but I don’t want you thinking that I’m going to answer any questions or anything like that!”
“Don’t you worry Barney. I don’t see that happening.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
“Okay... I guess I’ll do it,” responded Barney somewhat hesitantly.
We stopped whispering to each other and faced Savani and her gang.
“Ahem...can I borrow that bell please?”
The squat boy was somewhat reluctant to hand it over and I had to yank it out of his pudgy litt
le mitt.
“Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye! After very careful consideration, I, Howard Milton Sootfell, have decided on my partner for the Great Quiz.”
I looked around at the group of debaters who, I must say, looked as enthused as a pack of brabbensacks being herded into a slaughterhouse.
“It was a very easy decision and in all honesty, there were no other worthy contenders as I refuse to work with anybody but my best friend and, hence, there could only be one winner.”
I could feel an uneasy tension in the crowd. Savani, in particular, looked like she was constipated but it was difficult to determine whether this was her usual face or not. Penelope was the only individual who seemed supportive as she offered a slight smile.
“Fellow students, I give you Barney....um, Barney...”
It was at that moment that I realised that I didn’t know Barney’s middle name.
“Um... just a moment everyone.”
I quickly turned to Barney and whispered, “What’s your middle name?”
“Huh?”
“Your middle name?”
“No!”
What do you mean no? Come on Barney! This is embarrassing!” I uttered through clenched teeth.
“Well... alright... ah... it’s... Cuthbert.”
“It’s what?”
“Cuthbert, okay!”
“Did you say Cuthbert?”
“Yes, that’s right − Cuthbert!”
I had never heard of any guy called Cuthbert before but this wasn’t the time nor the place to make fun of Barney... I was going to do that later.
“Yes alright. Got it. Thanks.”
I recomposed myself and continued with my speech.
“I give you Barney Cuthbert Barwick.”
There was some ill-mannered snickering from Savani’s group of debaters but I ignored them and forged ahead.
“Barney has an open mind, outstanding eating skills, tremendous ability in, um, tying his own shoelaces. He was born right here in Quockingpoll Flats, up the road at Quockingpoll Flats Hospital in fact. He has been exposed to literature, history and mathematics during class time, and he has often been able to sit in a chair behind a desk in class for extended periods and he has even received a ‘satisfactory attendance’ award at our school. Barney is somewhat fluent in English and has been presented with a ‘participation’ award numerous times. Furthermore, he has been the undefeated lunchtime klonkers champion two months running. Without further ado, I give you Barney Barwick!
Savani and her band of debaters all stood there stone-faced and the square-headed squat kid snatched his bell back from my hand.
Barney had a big smile on his face. “Thank you Howie... they were some of the nicest words anybody has ever said about me!”
Savani took a few steps forward and looked at both of us like we were something she had dug out from underneath her toenail.
“I am going to squish you like a bug Sootfell!” she vowed, spitting out each syllable with vigour.
Savani then turned to Barney. “And you... you I’m going to squish like a slug!” She then proceeded to stare at Barney... a cold unwavering stare. She was using psychological warfare and it was working. Barney began to blink excessively, then he started to sweat and, finally, he started to tug at his ear... perhaps there was still some food in there.
At that point in time I decided to step in and salvage Barney’s dignity. “Okay Savani... we get the message... bug and slug and lots of squishing.
“That’s right Sootfell! And don’t you forget it!”
“Don’t you worry Savani... we’ll be ready and waiting!”
“Today will be your day of reckoning Sootfell! The Great Quiz will separate the sheep from the goats, and you shall meet your doom! See you at 2pm in front of the Royal Pavilion and don’t be late!”
Savani cackled an evil laugh and then strutted back to her group with an air of victory in her stride, as if she was Boudicca* who had just conquered the Romans. That Savani sure oozed arrogance and was full of herself, she was getting too big for her britches and would stop at nothing to get her way.
“Savani gives me the whim-whams,” muttered Barney, “and she’s given me indigestion as well!”
“Yeah... I know what you mean.”
A thought suddenly struck me like a bolt out of the blue. Savani was the trophy thief! It all made perfect sense! All this posturing and swaggering was just an intricate ploy to throw others off her scent. It fitted well with her psychology, an overachiever, and she was certainly intelligent enough to pull off such a heist, with her overbearing sense of self-worth and delusions of grandeur, and there were definitely signs of emotional shallowness. She was the type who always had to be a winner − whatever the cost! Savani could now have access to that trophy any time it tickled her fancy. She probably had it hidden in some secret compartment in her room and every night she would take it out so that she could cuddle with it − it all made perfect sense.
This performance today was all a ruse − she must have thought that I’d never accept her challenge. Well she was wrong! Dead wrong! Ha Savani! Ha! Ha! In your face! And she probably stole the money to make it look like an opportunistic grab for the cash, to mask the true motive of the crime. Quite clever Savani! But not clever enough! Well, well, well! Let’s see how all this pans out! I’ll see you at 2pm alright, and then afterwards! I’ll see you in gaol! That’s right! Savani was in my sights and she was going down.
I felt like Daniel who was about to slay Goliath... and that was a darn appropriate metaphor! Well... except for the fact that Savani was no giant, actually she was a bit of a shrimp... hmm... but that’s still okay! On a figurative level, she was a giant! That’s right... ha ha... a giant pain in the butt! And I was Daniel... I had similar traits... I was plucky and daring and brave... I mean I couldn’t use a slingshot... but you can’t have everything in life. All that mattered was that I was going to take Savani down! Yes! Savani was about the face her reckoning − some angry chickens were coming home to roost.
Then suddenly, the cogs started to whir, slightly at first but then with greater vitality. Ha! My revelation was about to come through. Yes! An affirmation of Savani’s guilt... but I was about to be greatly disappointed. Instead of Savani behind prison bars, I saw images of the familiar doors and splinters and smells and footprints floating in my mind. It was all a stark reminder not to jump to conclusions. Firstly, there was the whole thing about breaking down the foyer doors. I mean, Savani was feisty but there was no way she’d bust through those solid oak doors. Then there were the shoe prints − Savani’s feet was so small that she must have got her shoes at a toddler store. And then there was that pungent odour − sure, I didn’t like her but she smelt more of books and pencil shavings.
Damn! I guess I had let my own bias cloud my judgement. It looked like she was off the hook... well, at least for now. Bummer! And double bummer!
I turned to Barney. “Are you okay?”
“Ha ha... don’t you worry about me,” he answered timidly. “I can handle a little squirt like Savani.”
“Yeah well... I don’t think she likes you.”
“It could have been worse,” stated Barney.
“How?”
“At least she didn’t slap me with her glove.”
“Touché!” I responded.
“Howie... which are we supposed to be, the sheep or the goats?” asked Barney.
“I’m not too sure but I guess we’ll find out soon enough!”
“So 2pm at the Royal Pavilion?”
“That’s right Barn... we’ve got a date with destiny!”
“It’s worse than that Howie... we’ve got a date with Savani!”
Chapter fourteen
the great quiz
We arrived at the Royal Pavilion just before 2pm. We would have made it earlier except that Barney got into a heated argument at the hammer game with one of the other students about purple-sprinkled or blue-sprinkled donuts and which ones tasted bette
r − the operator had to come in and break it up. Savani and her gang of debaters were already in attendance and, altogether, a sizeable crowd had gathered to watch the Great Quiz.
I could tell that Barney was on edge; first the squabble at the hammer game and now he was anxiously tugging on his t-shirt. To be honest, I was feeling a little jittery myself and, on top of that, I was getting the sniffles as well. I attempted to lighten the mood with a joke but couldn’t think of anything even remotely funny. I racked my brain... nothing − nix, nada, nought. This wasn’t a good sign... if I couldn’t come up with a simple joke, how was my brain going to fare in this quiz? The prognosis was not looking good. Bummer! I was going to make a fool of myself and that Savani was really going to rub my nose in it.
“Okay... calm down Howard,” I told myself. “You’ve got this!”
I closed my eyes and concentrated and finally, something came to me. In my mind’s eye I could see a chicken, a road, and a bagel. Huh? I didn’t get it − what was I supposed to do with this?
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it wanted a bagel? No, no, no! I was going to have to have to come up with something a little more humorous. It didn’t have to be smart or witty, after all, Barney’s idea of humour mostly consisted of ‘pull my finger’ gags, but the joke did have to make sense, even for Barney.
“Try something different Howard,” I demanded. “You’re better than this! How about a riddle?”
I closed my eyes and concentrated harder. At first everything was a blank slate but then a few images started to form − a porcupine, a pineapple, and a mop. What did all of this mean? I was completely stumped.
What looks like a porcupine, smells like a pineapple, and cleans like a mop? Without a doubt, this was the worst riddle ever. It was even worse than the chicken joke. It was as if my brain had vacated the premises and I was ready to stick a ‘for lease’ sign on my forehead.