The Unusual Suspects

by Michael Buckley

  “Good night,” she whispered, but her sister said nothing. Sabrina snatched a copy of The Blue Fairy Book off the night-stand and opened it to page one. Maybe there was something in the book, some kind of magic she could use to find their parents.

  Once the house was quiet, Sabrina grabbed her set of keys up from under the bed, snatched a book off her nightstand, and headed to Mirror’s room. When she walked through the portal, she found him with a reflective silver card under his chin and a tanning lamp shining in his face. On a nearby table he had a pitcher of margaritas and a bottle of suntan lotion. When he saw Sabrina, he smiled and flicked off the lamp.

  “Just in time, kiddo,” the little man said. “I’m roasting over here. How was your first day of school?”

  “Oh, the usual. The kids made fun of me, I punched a bully, and a teacher was murdered by a monster,” Sabrina replied.

  “Sixth grade isn’t how I remember it,” Mirror said, reaching over to a table and pouring himself a fresh drink. “Sorry, I’d offer you one but you’re a bit young. How about a Shirley Temple?”

  “No thanks,” Sabrina said.

  “I remember my school days. It wasn’t easy for a shy talking mirror, but I managed. Trust me, starfish, it gets better the day after.”

  “The day after what?”

  “The day after you graduate,” Mirror said. “Are you feeling OK? You look flushed.”

  “I think I’m getting sick,” the girl said, holding her hand to her forehead to check for a fever. “I’ve been getting headaches all day and I’ve been a cranky jerk to almost everybody.”

  “Sounds like puberty to me. If you think school is tough now, wait until you start getting zits.”

  “So, you’re sure I’m not sick?”

  “Completely, kiddo. I remember when your dad went through it. He was in a fistfight every day for two weeks. I remember one time he got your grandfather so angry the old man chased him up a tree.” Mirror laughed.

  “So, this is normal,” Sabrina said. “I thought I was going crazy.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t going crazy,” the little man responded. “I just said you were growing up. The two are not mutually exclusive. So, did you just come to chat or are we going on a magic hunt again tonight?”

  Sabrina sheepishly held out a book about King Arthur’s powerful wizard, Merlin.

  “Come on, kiddo,” Mirror said, sounding resigned, and Sabrina followed him down the hall.

  Early the next morning, Sabrina awoke to a thundering racket, followed by a series of thuds and crashes that knocked a picture off her bedroom wall. Something was going on at the end of the hallway that sounded like a fistfight and Sabrina knew there could be only one source of the chaos—Puck. She eyed the clock and saw that it was only five a.m. and her blood began to boil. Five a.m. was too early for his nonsense.

  Of course, Daphne slept through the noise, snoring away as if nothing was happening. The little girl could sleep through World War Three. The only thing she wouldn’t sleep through was breakfast.

  Sabrina leaped out of bed and marched down the hallway. The day before had taught her not to just barge into his room, so she banged on the door angrily instead. After several moments, she realized that the tremendous noise she heard wasn’t coming from inside Puck’s bedroom, but from the bathroom down the hall. Fearing her grandmother had fallen in the tub, Sabrina rushed to the bathroom door, grabbed the knob, and flung the door open just as a nearly naked eleven-year-old boy ran past her.

  “Puck!” Granny Relda cried. “Come back here!”

  Mr. Canis leaped to his feet and rushed past Sabrina, chasing the boy, who had fled downstairs.

  “What’s going on?” the girl asked, as she peered into the bathroom. It was a complete disaster. The bathtub was surrounded by a dozen empty bottles of shampoo and what looked like the wrappings of at least twenty bars of soap. The inside of the tub was filled with an oily black sludge that slowly spiraled down the drain. On the toilet basin was a plate where four fat worms, several dead beetles, a hand grenade, and thirty-six cents in change had been collected.

  “Puck is having his bath … his eighth bath,” Granny Relda said, partly exhausted and partly annoyed. “You’ve let him out and now he’s probably in the woods rolling in who knows what … again!”

  “He’s taking a bath?” Sabrina said. Puck hadn’t taken a bath since he’d moved into the house and his unbearable stink had ruined many a meal for the girl. One whiff of his nauseating aroma was all anyone needed to realize that the Trickster King and soap were bitter enemies.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but why is he taking a bath?” she asked suspiciously.

  “We felt it was necessary, under the circumstances,” said Granny Relda. Sabrina noticed the old woman was wearing plastic gloves to protect her hands.

  “Circumstances? What circumstances?”

  But Granny’s explanation was interrupted by Mr. Canis, who stomped back up the stairs with the boy in his arms. Puck squirmed and kicked the entire way.

  “This is rubbish!” he shrieked as the old man dragged him back into the bathroom and wrapped him in a clean towel.

  “The tub is clogged again,” Granny Relda said. “I suppose we could try another round on the teeth while it drains.”

  Sabrina eyed the bathroom sink where four worn-down and abused toothbrushes had met their doom. Several tubes of toothpaste littered the floor. Each had been thoroughly emptied of all its cavity-fighting protection.

  “Will someone please tell me what is going on in here?” Sabrina demanded.

  Puck turned and smirked at the girl. A devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes and he temporarily ceased his indignant protests.

  “Guess what, piggy! I’m going to school with you today!” he shouted as he kicked the door closed in her face. “I’m going to be your bodyguard!”

  “Yes, you absolutely do need a bodyguard.” Granny Relda argued with Sabrina as she tried to pat Daphne’s hair down with her hand. The little girl had molded her still glue-soaked locks into a pointy Mohawk that stood about a foot and a half above her head. Finding little success, Granny gave up and turned her attention to serving each girl glow-in-the-dark waffles for breakfast. “We’ve got two monsters running around in the hallways.”

  “But why him?” Sabrina cried. Her own hair had become super curly after her multiple shampoos, producing an almost perfect globe shape, like a big yellow tennis ball. “Why don’t you come?” she said to her grandmother. “You could use a fairy godmother wand to change yourself into a kid.”

  “I’d look like a kid, but I’d still be an old lady,” said Granny. “This way if something happens, then at least there’s someone around who can fight.”

  “Actually,” Daphne said, shoveling half a glowing waffle into her mouth, “I think it’s a great idea. He’s our age and none of the kids will know who he is.”

  Sabrina shot her sister a betrayed look, but the little girl didn’t see it. She was obviously still angry and refusing to make eye contact with her.

  “Oh, no! They won’t notice him at all until he turns into a monkey and throws his own poop down the hallway,” Sabrina said. “And it’s not like the kids aren’t going to notice the fifteen layers of crud he has under his pits. He smells like Coney Island after a clam-eating contest.”

  “Excuse me?” Puck inquired. The boy had slipped into the room without anyone seeing him. Sabrina turned to give him her usual nasty look, but when she saw how he had transformed, she dropped her fork. Puck was clean, shiny, and blond. He’d been scrubbed from head to toe. His leaf-infested, raggedy hair was neat and combed and his teeth sparkled like diamonds. Even his ever-present ratty green hoodie and jeans had been retired and replaced with black cargo pants, a striped baby blue rugby shirt, and brand-new sneakers.

  “Puck! You’re … you’re …” Sabrina stammered.

  “You’re a hottie!” Daphne shouted.

  Sabrina hated herself, but she had to agree. Puck, th
e shape-shifter, the royal pain-in-the-rear, had transformed into a cute boy. Sabrina couldn’t help but stare, even when he caught her.

  “Yes, it’s true,” he said as he took a seat. “Please, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

  Granny placed a plate of waffles in front of him and he shoved them into his mouth with his bare hands. Whatever spell he had cast on Sabrina quickly faded as she watched him pour some maple syrup down his throat and take a bite out of a stick of butter.

  “Puck,” Granny Relda groaned as she wiped syrup off the boy’s face. “Use a fork. You don’t want to have to take another bath, do you?”

  “So you ran the garden hose over him. What about the insanity on the inside?” Sabrina asked, still doing her best not to look at him. Puck grinned at her and his big green eyes made her want to cry. She couldn’t like Puck! He was disgusting! He wasn’t even a real boy!

  “Don’t worry, old lady,” he said with a grin. “I’ll behave. Besides, who’s going to notice me with these two and their hair?” Suddenly, his head morphed into a donkey’s head. He brayed and laughed and spit all over Sabrina.

  “Puck, sweetie, no shape-shifting at the table,” Granny Relda lectured.

  “Just getting it out of my system,” the boy said, transforming back to normal. Sabrina wanted to die. Even when he was being disgusting, he was cute.

  Puck looked over at Sabrina, who was wiping his spittle off her face. “Hey ugly, is that your face or did your neck throw up?”

  Sabrina was horrified. Did he think she was ugly? Why would he say such a horrible thing in front of everyone? And then it dawned on her—this beautiful boy sitting across from her was still Puck the Trickster. He was the boy who had dumped her in a tub of goo and put a tarantula in her bed. Puck was still Puck, even after a makeover.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said. “You’re sending him because of all this Scarlet Hand message business, when we all know he’s the one who did it.”

  “You think I made all those handprints on the house?” Puck asked.

  “Who else?” she cried. “You’re the so-called Trickster King. You were pretty mad when Granny sent you to get the Widow. You decided to get your revenge by scaring us. Why not add a little terror to your bag of pranks?”

  “I think the glue and buttermilk is seeping out of your hair and into your itty-bitty brain,” the boy snapped.

  “I believe him,” Daphne declared. “He always admits when he does stuff. He’s proud of it.”

  Sabrina turned to her and fumed. Once again, her own sister had taken Puck’s side against her.

  “Well, I’m pretty proud of my right hook,” Sabrina shouted, returning her attention to Puck. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show it to you.”

  “Lieblings!” Granny shouted. The children spun around to face the old woman. Her face was flushed and her little button nose was flaring. “Enough with the shouting!”

  “He started it!” Sabrina shouted.

  “She started it!” shouted Puck.

  “Puck is going to school with you,” Granny Relda said firmly. “End of discussion.”

  Everyone sat silently for a moment, staring down at their breakfasts.

  “By the way, marshmallow,” Puck said to Daphne, breaking the silence. “How many warts did you find this morning?”

  The little girl rolled up her sleeves and showed the boy her arms. “Not one!”

  Puck sighed. “That’s a shame.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if you were going to have little ones they would have already shown up. You could put some cream on them and they’d go away in a day or two. But the really big ones take a couple days to show. Those are the kind that end up on the tip of your nose or growing out of your neck. You have to have surgery to get rid of those.”

  Daphne shrieked and jumped from her seat. In no time she was running up the steps to the bathroom again.

  “You better scrub harder this time!” Puck shouted to the little girl.

  “How is Captain Maturity going to keep an eye on both of us at the same time?” Sabrina asked. “Daphne and I aren’t in the same grade.”

  “Puck is there to watch you, Sabrina. Daphne will be safe with Snow White,” Granny replied. “Snow’s a good friend and has volunteered to keep her eye on your sister.”

  “Don’t worry, old lady,” Puck crowed. “I’ll keep this one out of trouble.”

  Granny Relda, Canis, and Puck headed off to meet with Principal Hamelin about enrolling “his majesty” into the sixth grade. As Puck was an Everafter, Granny decided an Everafter should take care of his enrollment and bypassed Mr. Sheepshank entirely. Sabrina was fairly sure the boy was a moron, so she wondered what Granny had planned if the principal decided Puck should be in kindergarten.

  Sabrina had assured her grandmother that she could walk to homeroom alone, but regretted the decision when someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the girls’ restroom. When she spun around, ready to sock her attacker, she found Bella with a brush and some hair spray in hand.

  “You need some serious help,” the blond girl said, ushering her over to the mirror, turning her around, and going to work on her hair with the brush. “How did you get your hair this way?”

  “It’s a long story,” Sabrina said sheepishly.

  Bella tugged and pulled with her brush, coated Sabrina’s head with hair spray, and then tied the unruly mane up with a pink rubber band. To Sabrina’s surprise, Bella had done something in seconds that Sabrina had been trying to do for herself for two days. She had made Sabrina look normal.

  “It’ll hold until lunch,” Bella said, handing Sabrina her brush and can of hair spray. “After that, well, we may have to call in a professional.”

  Sabrina was so happy she could have cried. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Bella said. “You have the seat in front of mine in science class and with that head of hair there was no way I was going to be able to see the film strip.”

  Sabrina laughed. It felt good when Bella joined her. Just then, the bell rang.

  “We better get to class,” the blond girl said. “Old battle-ax will be mad if we’re late.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Sabrina said. “Our teacher was killed last night.”

  “I think the fumes from the hair spray are affecting your brain. I saw her walking down the hall just a couple of minutes ago.”

  “Her? Our teacher was a him,” Sabrina said.

  But Bella had already rushed out of the restroom.

  Sabrina walked down the hallway and prepared herself for the sadness and confusion the other students would be feeling when they discovered Mr. Grumpner was dead. She assumed there would be a ceremony to honor their murdered teacher. The school had probably brought in some grief counselors to console them and answer questions. Everyone would make a giant condolence card and sign it for Mr. Grumpner’s wife and family. But when she stepped into the classroom, there were no tears running down faces, there were no confused, brokenhearted kids, there was not a single sad face.

  In fact, the kids acted as if nothing had happened at all. Like the day before, they were sleepy and bored. Sabrina was shocked. Sure, Mr. Grumpner had been a bitter pill to swallow but he was still a human being and he had died a horrible death. Didn’t anyone care?

  Bewildered, Sabrina went to her seat, sat down, and scanned the room for anyone who might need someone to talk to. Across the room, Bella smiled and gave her the “thumbs up” gesture.

  Has the world gone insane? Sabrina wondered to herself. A man died in this classroom less than twenty-four hours ago and they’re acting like it’s just another day!

  A roly-poly woman lumbered into the room and set a handful of books down on Grumpner’s desk. She had flaming red hair, done up in a bouffant, and a makeup job that looked as if it had been applied with a paintball gun. Something about her seemed oddly familiar.

  “Good morning, class,” she said. “Yesterday we were tal
king about transitive verbs. Let’s pass your homework forward and see how you did at identifying them.”

  Sabrina was dumbfounded. Homework?

  “Grumpner didn’t assign any homework,” Sabrina said to the sleepy girl next to her.

  “Who’s Grumpner?” the girl asked, taking out her assignment and handing it up the aisle.

  The teacher glanced around the room, absorbing the faces of her students. When she spotted Sabrina, her smile suddenly dissolved and was replaced with a bitter scowl. It was then that Sabrina recognized her. Sabrina had seen her when she and Daphne had snuck into the Ferryport Landing Ball—the Queen of Hearts.

  “Grimm,” she snapped. “A word, please.”

  Sabrina reluctantly got up from her desk and joined the woman at the front of the room. She had never actually met the queen, but after reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Sabrina was familiar with her notorious disciplinary tactics. More than a few citizens of Wonderland had lost their heads when the queen lost her temper. Looking into the woman’s face, it seemed to Sabrina that her own head might be next on the chopping block.

  “Child, I know what you are up to,” the queen said in a low voice.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You’ve come here to spy on me,” the woman said. “Well you can tell that old busybody grandmother of yours that she’s wasting her time.”

  “I’m not spying on you,” Sabrina said. How dare the woman accuse her of such a thing? The queen didn’t even know her.

  “I know it drives you Grimms crazy that there are Everafters working around human children.”

  “I swear I’m not here to spy. I’m eleven. I have to go to school. It’s the law,” Sabrina snapped. She looked around the room and noticed that even some of the drowsy kids were listening to their conversation. She flushed with anger and embarrassment.

  “A likely excuse, but I’m watching you, child. You step out of line just once with me and it’s …”

  “It’s what, off with my head?” the girl interrupted as anger flooded over her. She realized she was shouting, but she couldn’t help herself. “You’re a paranoid old kook. If you want to start off like this on your first day, be my guest!”