by , Sammy J;
He felt six years of high school stretch out before him, and a new, fierce determination to prove his parents wrong.
He felt the air getting hotter as he arrived at the top of the tower, where ancient gears moved ancient hands around an ancient clock.
He felt his left hand grip the rail as his right hand held his lucky pawn over the edge.
He felt his fingers unfurl as his chess piece dropped into the machinery.
And he felt the wooden staircase tremble beneath him as his lucky pawn landed between two cogs, jammed the gears, and caused the entire mechanism to grind to a halt.
Then Justin Monaghetti dashed down the stairs and hurried to class.
As far as chess games went, it was a pretty bold move.
Confession time: Mount Willow's mountain contained precisely zero willow trees. It did, however, contain the grave of Lord Flugenheim, the homesick British explorer who named it in the first place. He’d harboured grand dreams of a forest of willows covering the mountain, but hadn’t counted on the harsh Australian climate, and his saplings soon wilted in the sun. Undeterred, he built a small cottage on the hill and lived there until his eighty-third birthday, when he got up early to see the sunrise. Halfway to the summit he noticed a large wombat hiding behind some bushes. He stepped forward to examine it, realised it was just a wombat-shaped rock, then got squashed by a falling gum tree.
In life, as in chess, one small move can have major consequences.
Justin arrived at his final class of the day to find the entire group chattering loudly and munching on chocolate cake. He slipped in quietly and approached Miss Granger.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he whispered, ‘I had a bowel complaint.’ Justin had used this fictional excuse regularly at primary school, and was pleased to see it was still devastatingly effective.
‘Say no more,’ said Miss Granger, sympathetically. ‘Lucky for you, there’s still some cake left!’
She handed Justin a plate.
‘Now, if you can guess what percentage of the cake your slice is, you get to eat it!’
Justin looked confused. Maths and cake didn’t usually go together. ‘Five per cent?’
‘That’s close enough. Well done, Justin! Now, who wants a second piece?’
Hands shot up amid general agreement that Miss Granger was definitely the Most Excellent Teacher on Earth.
Justin took a seat and chewed his percentage cake. Around him, his sugar-filled classmates were getting louder, but all he could hear was the tick-tick-tick of the plastic clock on the wall. Justin felt a sudden rush of nerves. What if his plan didn’t work?
‘So, how did you go with the principal?’
As always, Eliza had appeared out of nowhere.
Justin hesitated. ‘Not very well. It seems that Wade is un-punishable.’
‘But there’s only twenty minutes until the bell goes!’ whispered Eliza.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Justin. ‘I’ve accepted my fate.’ He felt a strange sense of calm wash over him.
Eliza peered at him. ‘Justin? Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah? Why?’
‘You just seem … different?’
Justin shrugged. ‘We’re all just cogs in a machine, Eliza. No point fighting it.’ He took another bite of his percentage cake.
Eliza pulled a face. She looked disappointed.
Oh dear, thought Justin. She’s mistaken my gifted battle plan for an existential crisis.
Miss Granger interrupted them. ‘Excuse me, Eliza, but I haven’t received your extracurricular activity form yet?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Eliza with a wry smile. ‘I’ll bring mine tomorrow.’
‘So will I,’ added Justin.
‘Actually, Justin, no need for you to bring yours,’ said Miss Granger. ‘I’ve signed you up already. You’ll be joining the Athletic Muscle Bus.’
Justin frowned. ‘I didn’t see that on the list?’
‘It’s a new activity. I think it’ll suit you.’
Justin’s muscles disagreed. So did his face.
Miss Granger looked around the classroom, then knelt beside Justin. ‘Cheer up,’ she said reassuringly. ‘I know you’re upset about your detention, but rules are rules. Trust me – your week will get better.’
‘Athletic Muscle Bus?’ whispered Eliza, once Miss Granger had gone. ‘This place gets worse and worse.’
‘Lucky for you, the bell’s going soon,’ said Justin.
Eliza paused. ‘I can walk you to detention if you want?’
‘I’ll be okay. Thanks anyway.’
Justin glanced at the plastic clock. Five minutes to go. He looked around the classroom. A few desks away, the curly-haired boy with glasses was wrapping some cake up in a tissue. He caught Justin’s eye and smiled sheepishly.
‘It’s my mum’s birthday today,’ whispered the boy. ‘We’re going out for pizza. I thought she’d like some cake.’
Justin felt a pang of guilt. There was still time to fix things. If he dashed now, he might make it back up the bell tower …
His guilt was interrupted by a piece of cake flying past his head. Justin turned to see Wade Turner smirking. He decided to stick with the plan.
At 3.44 pm, Miss Granger addressed the class.
‘Well, it’s nearly the end of our first day, and I hope you’ve all had as much fun as I have!’ She smiled, and her class smiled back. ‘But of course, you are in high school now, so I’m afraid I do have to set some homework.’
The class fell silent.
‘And tonight’s homework is – watch TV, relax, and enjoy yourselves!’
The class erupted into spontaneous applause as Miss Granger cemented her reputation as The Most Awesome Teacher in History and Probably the Future as Well.
‘Who wants to join in the countdown?’
With all eyes fixed on the plastic clock, the class began to chant: ‘TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!’
There was a pause.
The bell didn’t ring.
Miss Granger’s brow furrowed.
‘Hmm – perhaps this clock is a little slow,’ she said. ‘But it should be any second now …’
The class waited in silence.
‘Strange,’ said Miss Granger. ‘It normally rings right on time.’ She walked to the window and looked up at the bell tower clock, whose ancient hands were stuck at 3.15 pm.
‘Can we go anyway, Miss?’ asked Wade. ‘I’ve got stuff on tonight.’ The class murmured their agreement.
‘I don’t see why not,’ said Miss Granger. Her comment was met with overwhelming approval. The Smirk flew out of his chair, leaving a cloud of deodorant in his wake as he raced to the exit.
But Justin had already beaten him there, and was now standing between Wade and the door handle.
‘Move it, loser,’ said Wade, towering over Justin.
Justin gulped. This was his moment.
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ he said.
Eliza looked at Justin with a puzzled expression. The rest of the class did the same.
‘Let me out,’ snarled Wade.
‘But that,’ replied Justin, ‘would be against the rules.’ His heart was pounding.
Miss Granger glared at him. ‘Justin, what are you talking about?’
Justin licked his lips nervously. ‘Rule 7 of the Mount Willow Student Handbook. “No student may leave school until the final bell has rung.” The bell hasn’t rung, so you’re not allowed to release us.’
Miss Granger rolled her eyes. ‘Thank you, Justin, but that’s just a guideline …’
‘Rules are rules,’ said Justin, gaining confidence.
The class stared at Miss Granger expectantly.
‘Even so,’ she said, ‘on this occasion I’m choosing to
release you. Class dismissed.’
The class surged forward and gathered around Justin, who continued to block the door. Students began jeering and yelling at him to move.
The fact that Justin had already humiliated himself several times that day suddenly gave him strength. A more popular boy might have retreated in order to preserve his social status, but Justin had no social status left to preserve.
‘Rule 127!’ he shouted.
The class paused. ‘What’s that?’ asked Miss Granger, looking increasingly baffled.
‘Rule 127,’ continued Justin, ‘says that every teacher has a duty of care to their students. So if you let us leave and one of us gets hurt, you could go to jail.’
The class fell silent. Miss Granger’s eyes darted around the room. Her popularity hung in the balance.
‘Well then,’ she said. ‘Ah … if it’s okay, we might all just stay here a little longer, until we hear from the principal.’
And with that, Miss Granger officially became the Meanest, Nastiest, Most Overrated Teacher in the History of High School.
The stunned students drifted back to their desks – all except Wade, who loomed over Justin, fuming.
‘But Miss,’ said Wade, ‘doesn’t this loser need to go to detention?’
Justin stared straight back at him and gave a tiny smirk. ‘Rule 91: Detention can’t start until the bell goes.’
Miss Granger sighed. ‘He’s right, Wade. Let’s all just wait here for a moment.’
Wade shot Justin a foul look, then stomped back to his seat.
Justin’s head was spinning. What on earth had he just done?
He slinked back to his desk and sat down beside Eliza.
‘Guess I’m not going home just yet,’ she said forlornly.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Justin. ‘I just—’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Eliza. ‘It’s not your fault the bell broke.’
Justin felt another twinge of guilt. ‘I’m sure they’ll fix it soon,’ he mumbled.
‘I hope so. Until then, looks like you’re free and I’m trapped.’ Eliza chuckled. ‘But it was worth it to see the look on Wade’s face.’
Justin felt ever so slightly proud of himself.
‘Now tell me,’ said Eliza, ‘how did you know all those rules?’
Justin grinned. ‘I learned from the best.’
At 3.59 pm, Dr Featherstone announced over the PA system that there was a problem with the school bell, and that he was calling a bell tower expert immediately.
At 4.25 pm, he announced that the bell tower expert was at a Swiss Clock Convention in Copenhagen and was unavailable to help.
At 5.03 pm, he asked the whole school to make their way to the hall for an emergency assembly.
Swarms of confused teachers and students began walking across the quadrangle. Nobody seemed quite sure how to feel. Some kids looked amused; others looked alarmed. Justin saw the curly-haired boy with glasses make a dash for the carpark where all the parents were gathered, only to be intercepted by Mr Atkins and sent back to the hall.
Justin and Eliza sat with the Year Sevens towards the front. The roar of jumbo jets again filled the space as several hundred students took their seats.
Soon, Dr Featherstone marched onto the stage.
‘Boys and girls, as you are no doubt aware, for the first time in over one hundred years our bell tower has stopped functioning. I wish to make it very clear that we, the teachers, would all prefer to be going home as well. However, as per the rules, I am unable to release anybody until the chiming of the bell.’
Howls of protest filled the hall.
‘Please,’ continued Featherstone, trying to speak over the jet engines. ‘We must remain disciplined! I am currently looking into alternative bell-ringing techniques. In the meantime, please stay seated for a special movie presentation.’
The howling turned to cheering.
‘The movie will be Frozen.’
The cheering turned to booing.
‘Or you could all return to class.’
The booing turned to silence.
Halfway through the movie, Eliza turned to Justin.
‘This is stupid,’ she whispered. ‘Why didn’t Elsa just tell her sister about her special powers to begin with?’
Justin shrugged. ‘I guess she wanted to keep it a secret.’
‘But they’re meant to be friends!’
‘Maybe Elsa was worried she’d scare Anna away?’ said Justin. This didn’t feel like the right time to tell Eliza that Frozen was one of his favourite movies. It also didn’t feel like the right time to admit he’d single-handedly destroyed the clock and was personally responsible for keeping her at school.
Justin twisted around to see the other students lit up by the screen’s reflection.
The Year Sevens were all watching the movie with huge smiles on their faces. Many were singing along.
The Year Eights weren’t smiling, but were obviously enjoying it. They just didn’t want to be seen to be enjoying it.
The Year Nines weren’t enjoying it, but they had difficulty expressing their feelings, so they just sat there looking confused.
The Year Tens were hating it, and were competing over who hated it more by yelling offensive things at the characters on screen.
The Year Elevens weren’t even watching it. They were too busy telling the Year Tens to shut up.
The Year Twelves were neither enjoying it nor hating it. They were just wondering why they had to spend the first night of the most important year of high school watching a kids’ movie.
By now, the hall was awash with rumours.
‘Featherstone broke the bell,’ whispered one girl. ‘He wants to turn the school into a juvenile prison.’
‘Nuh-uh,’ said another. ‘The government did it. We’re probably at war.’
‘Well, I heard there was a kid in the bell tower.’
Justin’s ears pricked up. He listened as one of the Year Tens spoke in a hushed whisper.
‘Years ago some kid got locked in there. Up where the clock is. They reckon he might have died up there.’
‘What, so we’re being forced to stay at school by a ghost?’ said another.
‘Would you shut up!’ snapped a Year Eleven girl.
Justin swivelled back in his seat.
On screen, Elsa had just frozen her entire town.
In real life, Justin had just frozen his entire school.
For the first time in forever, he felt in control of his destiny.
In the middle of the troll song, the screen went blank. A roar of approval went up from the crowd.
Dr Featherstone arrived back on stage, looking weary.
‘Boys and girls, I have just been reviewing the school rules. As you know, these rules state that the bell must ring before you can leave. Sadly, access to the bell tower is limited by the presence of broken glass, which will require a health and safety report, as per Rule 97. Unfortunately, health and safety officers are only allowed to attend the school during normal business hours, as per Rule 97 (b).’
Featherstone paused, then cleared his throat.
‘Therefore, it is my solemn duty to inform you that we will be spending the night here at school.’
Seven hundred jet engines roared in disbelief.
‘Your parents have been notified, and arrangements are being made to ensure your safety. This is a great challenge, but I have confidence in the Mount Willow school community. We will see this through together. Now, please enjoy the remainder of your animated film.’
A choir of complaints filled the hall.
Justin sat quietly as the gravity of what he’d done hit him.
He’d successfully avoided detention, forced his bully to stay at school, and was now watching his favourite movie with his new b
est friend.
He had no idea what was going to happen next.
But there was no turning back the clock now.
If you were given three minutes to raid the canteen, what would you take first? Lollies? Cake? Then again, you could just take the cash register. Then you could afford lollies and cake for life.
At 7.12 pm, the students were sent to the canteen and told to select one item for dinner.
The Year Twelves took all the pies.
The Year Elevens ate all the chips.
The Year Tens scoffed all the ice-cream.
The Year Nines cleaned out the chocolate bars.
The Year Eights polished off the soft drink, the muffins and the carrot cake.
By the time the Year Sevens were allowed in, the canteen resembled a wartime rations office. They picked through mouldy fruit and muesli bars, glumly searching for anything that looked edible. At one point James Clarke found a Caramello Koala, but he foolishly announced his discovery aloud, causing a frenzy of Year Sevens to pounce on him like rabid dogs.
Justin managed to salvage three sultanas.
He followed Eliza outside and they perched together on a bench overlooking the quadrangle. Though the sun was setting, the air still felt warm. Around them, other kids were playing tiggy and doing cartwheels. All in all, it was quite a pleasant atmosphere.
‘There’s certainly a bit of frisson to it, don’t you think?’ said Eliza, munching her bruised apple.
‘What’s that?’ asked Justin.
‘Frisson is a feeling of excitement. Like when things happen that are out of the ordinary.’
‘Well then, this is definitely frisson,’ said Justin. He glanced up at the bell tower, still frozen at quarter past three. He thought of his lucky pawn, wedged in the machinery. It wouldn’t take a clock specialist long to find it. And it wouldn’t take Featherstone long to trace it back to Justin. He wondered what his punishment would be. Ten detentions? Expulsion? Perhaps they’d bring back the cane?
There was nothing for it but to enjoy it while it lasted.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Miss Granger smiled as she sat down. ‘Here – don’t tell anyone, but I found this in the kitchen.’ She handed Justin a brown paper bag. He looked inside to see a steaming hot sausage roll, drenched in tomato sauce. It looked delicious.