Homerooms and Hall Passes

by Tom O'Donnell

  “I have a sense of humor,” said Vela.

  “And I am notoriously quick to laugh at the weakness of my foes!” said Thromdurr.

  “Foes?” said June.

  Thromdurr caught himself. “Er, other honor students who . . . seek the math award.”

  “Speaking of laughter,” said Vela, gazing out across the lunchroom, “what do you suppose they find so funny?”

  Nicole and her clique were giggling, apparently at something Sorrowshade had said.

  “I don’t know,” said Albiorix, “but it does make me a tad nervous.”

  “Eh, you should be happy that Sorro—that Melissa has actually made some new friends,” said Devis. “I mean, we all know what she’s like, right?”

  The Bríandalörians were quiet for a moment.

  “Her personality is highly abrasive,” explained Thromdurr.

  “Yeah, no, I definitely got that,” said June.

  “Anyway, enough about us,” said Devis. “What’s your deal, June?”

  “Yes,” said Vela. “Tell us of the great city that lies beyond Suburbia.”

  “Oh, hmm. Well, it’s kind of loud there. But you can get around on public transit, which is cool,” said June. “And I guess there are fewer chain restaurants.”

  “Again I must ask,” said Thromdurr, “why would anyone want to eat a chain?”

  June tactfully chose to breeze right past his question. “Mainly, I just miss all my friends at my old school.”

  “I see,” said Vela, putting a hand on June’s shoulder. “You feel as though you are an exile, cut off from your true home.”

  “Uh, sure?” said June. “I mean, I still text with them a lot—”

  “You swore an oath,” said Vela, “but sometimes it seems that oath no longer makes sense here. You are highly capable, yet the customs of this strange new land demand things of you that seem impossible. Such as delivering the morning announcements . . .”

  “Guys, I think your friend is, uh, going off on her own thing,” said June, looking around for help.

  “Valerie!” said Albiorix. “No need to frighten June about J. A. Dewar, a great place to learn. Gooooo, Titans.”

  Vela shook herself. “Sorry,” she said. “You’re right, A.”

  “A?” said June, looking at Albiorix. “That’s a weird nickname.”

  “That’s what I said!” said Stinky.

  “Hang on,” said June. “I somehow must have missed the part about how you guys all know each other?”

  Yet before anyone was forced into an awkward lie, the bell rang. And so the brave adventurers journeyed forth from the cafeteria to room 207, where they endured another social studies class, with many more names and dates to commit to their already overstuffed memories. Earth sciences came next, and they fared no better than the day before in discerning the mysterious origin of the rocks. In art class they painted their papier-mâché heads whatever color they wanted, which was nice. And so the last bell mercifully rang, and another day of middle school did come to a close. Though they were weary, the heroes’ spirits were buoyed by the prospect of their academic underperformance soon coming to an end under the wise tutelage of June Westray.

  As the hall filled with departing students, they discreetly reconvened in their secluded alcove.

  “Oof. I yearn for the sweet relief of the big recliner at my home,” said Thromdurr. “I shall lounge like a king and let the soothing infomercials wash over me. How is doing this more exhausting than fighting monsters?”

  “Too much soup,” said Devis. “I think I need more solid foods to keep my energy up. That’s why I’m sneaking these home.” He had apparently filled his pockets with hamburgers and fish sandwiches.

  “My day is far from done,” said Vela, shaking her head. “I’ve got French Club and then band practice for the concert band recital tomorrow. Can any of you teach me how to play the flute?”

  “I play a little lute,” said Devis. “Does that help?”

  “Not in the least,” said Vela.

  “I can’t believe I’m a bestie now,” said Sorrowshade.

  “I didn’t want you to make a scene in the cafeteria,” said Albiorix. “But if Nicole makes you uncomfortable, perhaps you could delicately remove yourself from her social circle.”

  “You told me to go sit with her,” said Sorrowshade. “I thought I was supposed to make friends with all the humans.”

  “I know, I know,” said Albiorix. “Just be careful, okay?”

  And so the party once more split up to make their way to their respective homes. Albiorix took up his familiar hiding spot in the third-floor boys’ room and began to leaf through his H&H sourcebooks in search of a new sanctuary. Room B-3 was out, but the wizard soon found an even better place to take refuge.

  After all the clubs and teams had gone home for the day, while Mr. Driscoll was mopping the east side of the second floor, Albiorix again crept down the opposite staircase. He stealthily made his way to the gymnasium. According to the books, there was an equipment closet full of balls and jump ropes and other commonly used equipment. And then there was what everyone at the school simply called “the other closet.”

  Albiorix found an old door with painted-over windows, luckily unlocked. He opened it to see piles of dusty athletic equipment that only rarely saw the light of day—a moth-eaten parachute, a stack of old scooter boards, boxing gloves from a time when that was apparently allowed in middle school. This was the other closet.

  “Perfect,” said Albiorix.

  And so the intrepid wizard created a makeshift bed out of gymnastics mats with a partially deflated dodgeball as a pillow. And Albiorix passed a peaceful night dreaming he was a dwarven princess trying to solve a particularly daunting linear equation. He awoke rested, his secret redoubt undiscovered. And after a breakfast of onion rings and fruit chews from the vending machine, Albiorix had made his way toward the eighth-grade lockers, when a bloodcurdling scream shattered the air. . . .

  Table 106b: Random Middle School Locker Contents

  To determine the contents of a student’s locker, roll five times on the following table:

  1 to 3: Social studies textbook

  4 to 5: Calculator (dead batteries)

  6 to 9: Notebook, repeatedly inscribed with the name of a crush (roll on Table 290f: Random Student Crush)

  10: Petrified cheese sandwich

  11 to 12: Hidden cache of Halloween candy

  13: Live guinea pig . . .

  —Excerpt from The Hall Master’s Guide

  “IT’S GOOOONE!” CRIED REUBEN Huang, looking around in a panic.

  “What’s gone?” said Albiorix.

  “My tablet,” said Reuben. “Somebody stole it right out of my locker. That thing is worth four hundred and fifty dollars. And it’s not even mine, it’s my brother’s.” Reuben moaned and buried his face in his palms.

  “Hang on, your locker got broken into too?” said Sherri Rios, running up to them, wide-eyed. “Somebody took twenty-three dollars and a new pair of sneakers out of mine.”

  “Aaaagh! My Agent Helios, Marksman of G.U.N.N. (Limited Edition Gray Battlesuit) action figure is gone,” cried Saul Graham. “My Agent Helios, Marksman of G.U.N.N. (Limited Edition Gray Battlesuit) action figure is gone!”

  “What about you, New Kid?” said Reuben. “Did your locker get broken into?”

  “Hmm. Well, I don’t really have a locker, as such,” said Albiorix. “But it probably would have . . . if I did.”

  Reuben, Sherri, and Saul now stared him with naked suspicion.

  “Who are you, anyway?” said Sherri.

  But before Albiorix could answer, a powerful hand grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him aside. It was the school custodian, Mr. Driscoll.

  “Uh, hi,” said Albiorix. “Hello.”

  “You lied to me,” said Mr. Driscoll in a furious whisper. “I checked around online and there’s no Armando Boort on any middle-school hockey team in the Edmonton metro area!”


  Albiorix was dumbfounded. You could find something like that out using a computer? They really were powerful.

  “Okay, yes, that’s true,” sputtered the wizard, “because back home I played on a team that was so elite it was actually kept secret—”

  “Stop lying,” said Mr. Driscoll. “Ms. Rhee says there’s been a rash of locker break-ins. You were here, in the school, when Sam Keller’s shark-tooth necklace got stolen.”

  “Okay, maybe,” said Albiorix, “but—wait, you don’t think I did it, do you?”

  “Lying? Skulking around the school after hours? Of course I do!” said Mr. Driscoll. “That’s why I’m turning you in to Vice Principal Flanagan right this minute.”

  “But—but won’t you get in trouble too?” said Albiorix.

  Mr. Driscoll paused.

  “You know,” said Albiorix, “for not saying anything when you found me asleep in the basement yesterday morning?” The wizard knew he was on dangerous ground here, but what choice did he have?

  Mr. Driscoll somehow looked even angrier than ever. His voice fell to a whisper. “Are you trying to blackmail me or something?”

  “Absolutely not!” said Albiorix. “I’m trying to help you.”

  Mr. Driscoll gritted his teeth, as he apparently considered this. “I’m going to give you one chance,” he said, “Return the stuff you stole and . . . we can forget this ever happened.”

  “I didn’t steal anything,” said Albiorix. “But I will track down the culprit and all the stolen stuff. Sure, I may have been, ah, slightly exaggerating my hockey credentials, but trust me: where I come from, solving problems like this is pretty much all I do.”

  “You have until end of day Friday,” said Mr. Driscoll, “or I’m dragging you straight to Flanagan’s office, and he can expel you for all I care.”

  And with that, Mr. Driscoll turned and walked away.

  “Yikes,” said Devis. “What was that all about?”

  The other Bríandalörians had witnessed the exchange from a little ways down the hall.

  “I do not like to see our wizard being intimidated,” said Thromdurr, placing an affectionate hand on the top of Albiorix’s head. “’Tis far too easy for bullies to prey upon the weak.”

  “Thanks, I think?” said Albiorix. “Anyway, we might just have a quest on our hands.”

  “A new adventure?” said Vela, her eyes lighting up. “A problem to solve? A wrong to right? An evil to confront and vanquish?”

  Albiorix nodded. “If we don’t get to the bottom of these locker break-ins, I’m going to get blamed, and very likely expelled.”

  “Did we not just save you from such a fate?” said Thromdurr.

  “Yeah, you just keep getting into trouble, Magic Man,” said Devis, clucking his tongue. “Is it out of some sick need for attention?”

  Before Albiorix could protest. Vela put a hand on his shoulder. “Do not fear,” she said. “We shall bring this locker villain to justice. I swear it by all that is good and righteous!”

  In total, it turned out that thirteen lockers had been burgled, fourteen counting Sam Keller’s two nights ago. Each of the victims filled out an official report with Ms. Rhee. Rumor had it that hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars’ worth of items had been stolen. Principal Greene took over morning announcements to address the incident (mercifully sparing Vela from the job). Greene urged the culprit to come forward immediately and promised that the school would temporarily be ramping up security until things had been sorted out.

  Between classes, the Bríandalörians asked around for clues among various social groups. Thromdurr questioned the Nerds. Vela took the Overachievers and Jocks. Stinky went for the Class Clowns and Gamers. Sorrowshade worked the Loners and, paradoxically, the Populars, who had recently embraced her thanks to her new affiliation with Nicole Davenport.

  For his part, Albiorix discreetly paged through The Cyclopedia of Students, searching for likely suspects. He was looking for students with criminal tendencies and a high enough Cunning attribute to have pulled off the thefts. According to his entry, Mitchell Harrington had once stolen a candy bar from a convenience store when he was eight. On the other end of the spectrum, Cassie Bloom regularly shoplifted electronics from big-box stores. Both of them went on the list, along with twenty-nine other suspects that he and his companions had identified. Yet for Albiorix, one name kept jumping out at him: Evan Cunningham.

  Evan had received three days of in-school suspension for the shoelace incident in Computer Applications class the day before. Albiorix felt bad about that, since Evan was innocent. (But not too bad because you could only muster so much pity for a guy like that.) Evan had no particular history of stealing, but Albiorix thought that perhaps robbing over a dozen lockers was a grand act of revenge against the school for his unjust punishment? Revenge was a very common motivator back in the real world of Bríandalör, and it explained the grandiose plots of many a villain. Revenge didn’t quite account for Sam Keller’s missing necklace the night before, but maybe that was unrelated.

  At lunch, Sorrowshade was once again summoned by Sophie Sorrentino to serve as a bestie. The gloom elf gritted her teeth and took her place at Nicole Davenport’s right hand. Meanwhile, the other adventurers decided to do some investigating.

  Derrick Day sat at a table of other middle-school ne’er-do-wells, lesser acolytes of Evan Cunningham. In Evan’s absence, it looked as though Derrick might be trying on the ringleader role for size. The others laughed at his jokes and hung on his every word.

  “Greetings, Derrick Day,” said Thromdurr, sitting down heavily beside him.

  “Why are you sitting here, dork?” said Derrick.

  Derrick’s buddies snickered.

  “I am told I cannot crush you,” said Thromdurr. “So perhaps we can be friends?”

  “Crush me?” said Derrick, “Are you out of your mind, Dougie? I eat nerds like you for breakfast every single day. I am a stone-cold—”

  “Greetings, Derrick,” said Vela, sitting down on the other side of him. “Is the sloppy joe to your liking? I pray it is as flavorful as your daily breakfast of nerds?”

  “What is this, quiz bowl?” said Derrick. “Both of you dorks get lost! Now!”

  This got a weaker laugh from his cronies. Especially considering neither Vela nor Thromdurr moved an inch.

  “Derrick, if I may,” said Devis, who had somehow been sitting at the table the whole time. “You already used ‘dorks.’ A different insult might have gotten a stronger response. You know, sometimes how you’re communicating is just as important as what you’re communicating.”

  At this, there were a few grunts and nods of agreement from the remaining members of Derrick’s crew. A few of them stood up to move to another table.

  “Where you going?” said Derrick. “Don’t listen to this little chucklehead. Look at him, he’s a total d—”

  Derrick stopped himself from saying “dork” yet again. Devis clucked his tongue. Derrick was losing control of the situation, and he knew it. He was no Evan Cunningham, after all. More of his friends got up and left.

  “Ooh, room for one more?” said Albiorix, taking a newly empty spot.

  “No!” said Derrick. “Go back to wherever it is you came from, New Kid.”

  “Believe me, I’m trying, Derrick,” said Albiorix.

  “So tell us about these locker thefts,” said Vela. “And be honest. Lies cannot save you.”

  “How should I know anything at all about that?” said Derrick.

  “Your liege, Evan Cunningham, is responsible,” said Thromdurr. “You can admit it.”

  “Liege?” said Evan, throwing his hands up. “Dude, nobody talks like that. Why are you such a huge—”

  “Don’t say dork,” said Devis.

  “I wasn’t going to!” said Derrick.

  Derrick stood up to leave, but Thromdurr put a meaty hand on his shoulder and slowly forced him back down into his seat.

  “Take heed,” said Thromdurr to his com
panions. “I did not crush him. It was merely a firm smooshing motion.”

  “I’ll allow it,” said Albiorix.

  “This is so unfair,” said Derrick. “Anytime anything bad happens, people blame Evan! Just like the shoelace thing. Nobody ever gives him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Perhaps he arouses no sympathy because he is a spiteful person who revels in the misery of others?” said Vela.

  “Exactly!” said Derrick. “I mean, no, wait, what?”

  “Present the evidence that exonerates Evan,” said Vela, steepling her fingers, “or face the swift hammer of judgment.”

  “Evan didn’t do this, because his own locker got broken into,” said Derrick. “They stole a laser pointer and a pair of headphones from him. You can ask Ms. Rhee.”

  The Bríandalörians all looked at each other.

  And lo, what Derrick Day, loyal toady of Evan Cunningham, said was true. Ms. Rhee, the lawgiver of the school, confirmed the tale. And Albiorix’s list of suspects shrank from thirty-one to thirty. He truly had no idea who it could be, as the rest of the school day passed in a timeless haze of academic failure, save the class of art, where the students began to experiment with the form of collage. And so the final bell rang, bringing their misery to an end, albeit a temporary one. Though school might be over, their studies were not. For this was their first day of private tutelage.

  “Hi, guys,” said June as she answered the door of the house at 410 North Rush Street. “Welcome to Castle Westray.”

  “Ha!” said Thromdurr. “This small, indefensible house would quickly fall to any attack. Where is the moat? Where is the boiling oil? You don’t even have any arrow slits, June!”

  “What Douglas means is, you have a lovely home,” said Albiorix, nudging past Thromdurr into the door.

  “In exchange for your tutelage, we have brought you a gift,” said Vela, bowing. “Though we may never truly be able to repay you, please accept this humble gesture of gratitude.” Vela handed June thirty-five dollars’ (in magic coins) worth of snacks from the school vending machine.

  “Wow, that’s . . . that’s a lot of individually wrapped peanut-butter crackers,” said June as she accepted the load. “You know, I do already have food at my house.”