School for Nobodies

by Susie Bower

  ‘No, there’s… there’s something up the chimney! A ghost!’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. But I shivered. I had the strangest feeling—as if someone, or something, was watching us. I shrugged the thought away. Sonia always said I had an Overactive Imagination.

  Twenty minutes later, Rule Boy came back from his interview with Mr Gold.

  ‘What did he s-say?’ said Custard.

  ‘Who? Krusty?’ said Rule Boy, pulling out a book from the shelf and opening and shutting it with a bang.

  ‘Why do you call him Krusty?’ I said.

  ‘Don’t you know anything, Antsy?’ said Rule Boy. ‘He used to be a clown.’

  ‘A c-clown?’ said Custard. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘It’s obvious,’ said Rule Boy. ‘There’s a big circus poster on his study wall, and he’s on it—dressed as a clown, balancing on another clown’s shoulders.’

  Mr Gold a clown in a circus? I tried to imagine him, with his sad eyes and his limp, as a clown, but I couldn’t. Rule Boy must have been making it up.

  ‘How can you tell it’s a picture of Mr Gold?’ I said. ‘Clowns wear wigs and make-up.’

  ‘Because,’ said Rule Boy, ‘it says “The Gravity-defying Gold Brothers” on the poster.’

  Custard took her thumb out of her mouth. ‘What shall we d-do now?’

  ‘I know—we’ll find out about one other,’ said Rule Boy. He picked up a ruler. ‘This can be our Talking Stick.’

  ‘It’s not a stick,’ I said. ‘It’s a ruler.’

  ‘Duh, Antsy! Like I don’t know that? But we can pretend it is.’

  ‘What’s a Talking Stick?’ said Custard. ‘Sticks c-can’t talk.’

  Rule Boy rolled his eyes at her. ‘Talking Sticks were used by the Native Americans when they had meetings. Whoever holds the stick is the only person allowed to talk.’

  He walked up and down in front of us, waving the stick about.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ he said. ‘I won’t tell you my name, cos that’s against the rules, but miss didn’t say we couldn’t tell each other about ourselves and how we came to be here. I got sent here because my dad went away. He couldn’t look after me any more.’

  ‘Where did he go?’ I asked.

  ‘Shut up! You’re not allowed to talk while I’m holding the stick,’ said Rule Boy.

  ‘So, I’m going to be the greatest violinist there has ever been. I’m going to be world famous and make loads of money. I started playing when I was four and I’ve already done my grade eight. I got a distinction.’

  I knew about exams. Sonia had made me take them on the piano. I’d just scraped through grade one.

  Rule Boy offered the stick to Saddo. ‘You’d better have your turn—you’ve got to go and see Krusty any minute.’

  Saddo blushed and took the stick.

  ‘My sister was looking after me,’ he muttered. ‘Only she went off to university.’

  He tossed the stick back to Rule Boy and set off for his interview with Mr Gold.

  ‘She probably got sick of his moaning,’ smirked Rule Boy. ‘And eating them out of house and home.’ He threw the stick to me. ‘Your turn, Antsy.’

  ‘I am an orphan,’ I said, standing up. ‘I got sent here because I ruined a painting.’

  I looked at Custard and Rule Boy. Could I trust them enough to tell them about my twin? It was my biggest secret, but I’d need help to find a way to get over the wall to the Academy, and Rule Boy seemed pretty clever. I made up my mind and took a deep breath.

  ‘I’ve got a twin. And she’s at the school next door so I’ve got to find a way to get there—’

  At that moment, a wild flapping sound came from the chimney, and more soot dropped into the hearth, along with a long, black, oily feather. A terrible smell swirled around the room—a smell so horrible that it made me want to be sick.

  Custard shrieked and backed away. ‘It’s the g-ghost! I knew it! I knew it!’

  Rule Boy smirked. ‘A ghost, eh? Let’s see.’

  He marched over to the hearth, got down on his knees and cautiously gazed up the chimney. ‘Cor, it stinks up there. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.’

  I put my arm around Custard. ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts.’

  ‘My m-mum says there is. G-ghosts and bogies.’ Custard’s teeth were chattering.

  A cold blast of air swept down the chimney and the horrible smell seeped into our nostrils.

  Rule Boy ran a hand through his black curls, dislodging flakes of soot, dusted down his knees and stood up.

  ‘Anyhow,’ he said, turning to me, ‘what makes you think your twin’s at the Academy?’

  ‘Never mind,’ I said. I didn’t want to talk about the messages—they’d never believe me.

  I passed the stick to Custard but she shook her head.

  ‘I c-can’t.’

  ‘Scaredy-cat!’ said Rule Boy.

  ‘I’m n-not scared. I just d-don’t want to,’ said Custard. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and pulled her yellow blanket tightly round her shoulders.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to.’ If her mum was in hospital and her dad was dead, no wonder she was frightened and shy.

  ‘Well, if you won’t talk, we’ll have to play another game.’ Rule Boy suddenly reached out and grabbed Custard’s blanket.

  ‘Stop it!’ screamed Custard.

  But Rule Boy, smirking, dangled the blanket just out of her reach.

  ‘Give it b-back!’ Custard jumped up and down to reach it.

  ‘Say please,’ taunted Rule Boy, raising the blanket a little higher.

  ‘It’s m-mine,’ quavered Custard.

  ‘Here, Antsy,’ said Rule Boy. ‘Let’s play piggy-in-the-middle.’

  And he suddenly threw the blanket towards me, over Custard’s head. It wasn’t a very good throw, and I just managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

  ‘C’mon,’ said Rule Boy with a snigger. ‘Throw it back to me, Antsy.’

  Custard’s face was white and her eyes were full of tears. I walked over to her and held out the blanket. She grabbed it and wrapped her arms around it.

  I turned to Rule Boy. ‘Leave her alone, all right?’

  Rule Boy snatched the stick from me and twirled it round in his fingers, grinning.

  ‘It was just a bit of fun. Anyhow, what’s so special about it? It’s only a ratty old blanket.’

  ‘It’s not!’ whispered Custard. ‘It’s special.’

  ‘Huh,’ said Rule Boy. ‘Who says?’

  ‘It is special,’ said Custard. ‘My m-mum gave it to me. She said it’d keep me safe when I was scared. And it d-does.’

  ‘Your mum lied to you,’ said Rule Boy. ‘How can a stupid blanket keep you safe?’

  ‘Stop being so mean!’ I said.

  Rule Boy grinned. ‘You going to make me, Antsy?’ And he reached out and grabbed Custard’s blanket from her again. Custard tugged back with all her might, but Rule Boy was stronger. He jerked it away and began to dance about with it.

  That Feeling began to bubble in my tummy.

  ‘You think you’re so smart,’ I said, ‘don’t you? But you’re not. You’re… you’re nothing but a bully and a thief.’

  ‘You’ll g-go to prison if you’re not c-careful!’ shouted Custard.

  Rule Boy threw the blanket back at her and glared at me.

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ he said. ‘Don’t you EVER call me a thief.’

  At that moment, the door opened and Miss Cruet walked in.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  Rule Boy pointed at me. ‘She called me a thief, miss!’

  ‘Only b-because you stole my c-cuddly!’ said Custard.

  Miss Cruet looked at each of us, her eyes sharp and cold.

  ‘Stealing and name-calling will not be tolerated at this school. There is a room here where children are sent to consider their behaviour.’

  She grabbed Rule Boy by the ear. ‘One hour in the
Room of Reflection!’ she snapped, then turned to me. ‘And as soon as he comes out, you will go in for an hour.’ And with that, she dragged Rule Boy out of the room.

  THE ROOM OF REFLECTION

  ‘Your turn next for the Room of Reflection,’ Miss Cruet snapped at me.

  Rule Boy, back from his hour in the room, made a disgusting face at me behind Miss Cruet’s back.

  ‘But I’ve got to see Mr—’

  ‘Silence!’

  Miss Cruet set off down the corridor. She led me upstairs, past the floor where the dormitories were, and up another flight of stairs, which led to a narrow corridor. We swept past a door marked: miss e. cruet—strictly no entry!!! Then another marked: mr f. gold.

  What would Mr Gold say when I didn’t turn up for my interview with him? I’d be in even more trouble.

  At the end of the corridor, a flight of spiral stairs wound up, narrow and dark. Round and round we climbed until we came to a final door with a big metal bolt on it. Miss Cruet turned the handle and the door swung open into darkness.

  ‘The Room of Reflection,’ announced Miss Cruet. ‘Here you will spend one hour alone to reflect upon your actions.’

  Then she pushed me inside and bolted the door.

  It was pitch black. My heart thumped. Would I have to stay here, alone in the dark, for a whole hour? Cautiously, I ran my hands over the wall behind me until they found a switch. I clicked it on. A single bulb hanging from the ceiling glowed dimly. The attic room was so long and so badly lit that I couldn’t see where it ended. It was empty. Not a chair or a carpet or a picture or a window. I took a step inside.

  And froze.

  Something was moving in the shadows at the far end of the room. I stood stock-still. It too stopped moving. I screwed up my eyes and peered into the shadows, but all I could make out was a shape. Had it seen me? In slow motion I edged backwards towards the door. The Thing was moving again. I grabbed the door handle and rattled it.

  ‘Let me OUT!’

  My voice echoed round and round the room, but there were no answering footsteps on the stairs. I spun back to face the Thing. It was still moving about, but it hadn’t come any nearer.

  What should I do? I couldn’t get out of the room. There was nothing for it—I’d have to face the Thing. I swallowed. My throat was dry and I could hardly breathe. Slowly, my legs shaking, I began to move towards it, and it began to move too.

  ‘I’m not afraid!’ I whispered. But I was.

  Then, as I got closer, I saw that the Thing was wearing a sweatshirt and trousers, just like me. It had curly red hair. I raised my hand in the air, and the Thing did too.

  I laughed out loud with relief. How could I have been scared by my own reflection?!

  On the far wall—the wall the School for Nobodies shared with the Academy—hung a full-length mirror. I walked up to it. Its wooden frame was carved in the shapes of mermaids and dragons. Its glass was dusty and there were black spots where the surface had worn away. It was so dark in the room that I could hardly see my burn, and I looked like a normal girl. Then I saw something else.

  Behind me, in the mirror’s reflection, stood a black cabinet.

  Had it been there before? I was sure it hadn’t. Maybe I was imagining it, like I’d imagined that my own reflection was some kind of monster.

  I turned to look, half expecting the cabinet to disappear. It didn’t. It stood against the wall, about the same height as me, on long, spindly legs. A key gleamed in its door. I had the strangest feeling: that if I opened it, my life would change forever.

  Slowly, I walked towards the cabinet and reached out to turn the key.

  A sound came from inside. A shuffling, whispering sound, as if something was breathing very heavily, or shifting about very slowly.

  ‘Open me, Flynn,’ said a croaky voice.

  I hesitated, my fingers grasping the key.

  ‘Open me,’ said the voice again. ‘I dare you…’

  I thought quickly. Who was in there? Would it be safe to open the door? Whoever it was, it knew my real name. And if it knew my name, maybe it knew other things. I had to find out.

  I turned the key, and the door swung open.

  The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was just the same as the smell in the library chimney—rotten eggs, dirty drains, poo and a whole lot else. Then, in the darkness at the back of the cabinet, something moved. The Thing was black, and I couldn’t make it out, except for a gleaming, yellow pair of eyes. I stepped backwards.

  As I did so, the Thing shuffled towards me. It was a bird, but nothing like the soft, grey dove that had helped me free the balloon. It was large, with oily black feathers, a hooked beak and withered claws. It waddled to the edge of the cabinet and stared at me, its head on one side. Then it opened its beak and spoke.

  ‘Well, Flynn,’ it croaked, ‘you finally got here.’ And it slowly closed one of its yellow eyes in a wink.

  ‘How do you know my name?’ I whispered.

  The Bird gave a rasping chuckle.

  ‘I know all about you,’ it said. It raised one of its claws and scratched at the side of its head. A black feather floated to the floor.

  ‘What do you mean?’ My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it. ‘How do you know about me?’

  The Bird gave a hoarse chuckle.

  ‘I watch, Flynn,’ it whispered. ‘I listen. I know. More than you can ever imagine.’

  If this creature knew my name, and if it really knew all about me, then maybe it knew what happened to my parents. Maybe it could even tell me how to get to the school next door and find my twin.

  ‘You have questions,’ croaked the Bird. ‘If you want answers, then you must come closer to me.’

  The closer I got, the worse the smell. I pinched my nose between my fingers. When I was near enough to touch it, the Bird opened its beak, revealing a stubby black tongue, and cackled again.

  ‘What is your question?’

  My fingers crept up to my burn. ‘What happened on the day my parents died?’

  The Bird rummaged among its feathers as if searching for fleas. After some time, it said: ‘That is a secret.’

  ‘You said you would answer my questions,’ I said.

  ‘I said that if you want answers, you must come close. They may not be the answers to your questions.’

  Then, with a terrible flapping, the Bird jumped out of the cabinet and into the air.

  The next thing I knew, it had landed on my shoulder. Its sharp talons dug into my skin. I tried to brush it off, but its claws dug in even deeper.

  ‘Oh no, missy,’ it croaked. ‘I have things to tell you, and tell you I will.’

  The smell was so bad that I turned my head away.

  The Bird bent its beak to my ear and began to whisper, so I could barely catch the words.

  ‘If you remain at the School for Nobodies, you will become a Nobody. You do not belong here. You are different. You have a special gift.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I couldn’t think of anything special about me.

  The Bird gave a horrible chuckle. ‘Don’t you wish you were next door, Flynn? At the Academy? There’s a pool, you know, with water slides and a wave machine… a cinema… a gym with trampolines and swings… Imagine yourself there. Imagine the food you will eat… pizzas and hot dogs and Easter eggs all year long… ice cream and chocolate fountains…’

  It pressed itself closer to my ear and I tried not to shiver.

  ‘You must escape this place at all costs, and get to the school next door.’

  ‘How?’ I said. ‘Over the wall?’

  At that moment, footsteps came creaking up the stairs.

  The Bird stretched its neck and stared right into my eyes.

  ‘Someone is waiting for you there. Someone you long for with all your heart.’

  ‘My twin?’ I said, hardly daring to breathe.

  The Bird closed its watery eye in a slow wink.

  ‘How?’ I whispered. ‘How can I get to h
er?’

  I could hear Miss Cruet muttering on the other side of the door as she pulled the bolt back.

  ‘I will give you your answer when we meet again,’ croaked the Bird.

  Then it flapped its wings, launched itself into the air and flew into the cabinet. At the same moment, the door behind me swung open and Miss Cruet came in. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and sniffed the air.

  ‘What,’ she said, ‘is that appalling smell? When did you last wash?’

  ‘It’s not me. It’s—’

  ‘Disgusting!’ snapped Miss Cruet. ‘You will proceed immediately to the shower. And don’t forget to scrub your teeth thoroughly. Go!’

  And she pushed me out of the door.

  DO YOU BELIEVE ME?

  I was glad to scrub away the smell of the Bird. But I couldn’t wash away its words.

  ‘You have a special gift… You must escape this place at all costs, and get to the school next door… Someone is waiting for you… someone you long for with all your heart…’

  I was sitting on my bed, pulling on my socks and thinking about all this, when Rule Boy walked in.

  ‘You’re in Big Trouble,’ he said, looking extremely pleased about it. ‘Krusty’s looking for you—he’s hopping mad. He’s probably going to punish you properly for calling me a thief. A punishment much worse than the stupid Room of Reflection.’

  I stopped. Rule Boy had been in the room just before me—had he seen the Bird too?

  ‘What did you do in there?’

  Rule Boy shrugged. ‘Nothing, of course. What can you do in an empty room? I just sang my music to myself.’

  ‘Didn’t you see—?’ I said, then stopped.

  ‘See what?’ Rule Boy looked innocent.

  ‘Forget it,’ I said. He must have been pretending he hadn’t seen the cabinet or the mirror or the Bird.

  Rule Boy turned to go. ‘I’d better say goodbye now, and good riddance—cos when Krusty finds you, he’ll probably expel you.’ And he disappeared out of the door.

  ‘I hope he does,’ I muttered, returning to my laces. ‘I hope he expels me today. Then I can go to the Academy and—’

  ‘And what?’ said a voice.

  Mr Gold was standing in front of me. His rusty hair was wilder than ever.