Pick Your Poison

  ‘She hired you, didn’t she?’

  ‘Only because there was no one else.’

  ‘You’re saying you don’t trust anyone to back you?’ said Clancy.

  Ruby looked down at her arm, the words written by Del in that most permanent of permanent markers were still there and she sort of half smiled, half sighed. ‘I guess I need to wake up and smell the banana milk. I’m all alone in this and no one’s gonna get me out of it but me.’

  She stared into the darkness, there was nothing to see, no moon, no streetlights … It was hard to believe a city existed beyond her room.

  What Ruby hadn’t told anyone, not even Clancy, was that she was going to the Twinford Mirror building that night, following the location and date on the last bottle.

  RULE 11: BE PREPARED, she told herself.

  Ruby hoped it would be an in and out sort of job, but she couldn’t count on it. She thought she knew where the bottle would be and there shouldn’t be too much trouble getting into the Twinford Mirror building since newspapers worked through the night. Being spotted was going to be the problem.

  She got changed into the jumpsuit Hitch had given her, the one that was not only super warm, should one decide to scale a two-hundred-foot wall, but also had glider wings concealed inside the back zip. It was thanks to these glider wings that she hadn’t gone splat when Lorelei von Leyden dropped her off the hotel roof.

  She glanced in the mirror and saw she looked not unlike some kind of schoolgirl superhero. The jumpsuit was cooler than the usual stretchy stuff they made superheroes wear – one thing you could say for Spectrum: they knew style.

  She pulled her coat on over the jumpsuit and grabbed her backpack, opened the window and slipped out into the night.

  She ran most of the way through the city, her parkour skills coming in handy for propelling her over walls and onto roofs, leaping alleyways and stairways, taking shortcuts, her feet barely touching the ground.

  She arrived at Gödel Avenue, snuck down a side alley and slipped into the Twinford Mirror building through a restroom window, her small frame easily wriggling through the tiny opening. She hadn’t gone more then a few yards down the corridor when she saw it.

  The bottle stood on top of a vending machine just to the left of the doors that led to the canteen. She reached up, checked the lid was on securely and popped the Taste Twister in her backpack. Nothing to it. No grizzling baby, no giveaway tell-tale beepers or squeakers or bouncing pacifiers – piece of cake.

  She went straight home and once inside the door climbed the stairs to her room.

  She twisted the lid off the bottle and sniffed the liquid: acidic.

  She tasted it: and spat it out immediately.

  Geez. Cabbagey. It reminded her of something, a drink she had smelled before. She could almost hear Consuela’s voice urging her to drink it. This was the unmistakeable bitter flavour of kale. Mixed with … something salty? And maple syrup?

  So: kale, salt and maple syrup.

  In other words:

  Bitter, salt, sweet.

  In digits:

  (1,0,1,1)

  She ran back down to the guest bathroom, stepped up on the toilet and searched the map on the wall. She traced her fingers along the grid until she identified the location.

  It was the city’s movie museum on Fibonacci Street. Twinfordites often referred to it affectionately as The Bodice Ripper Museum on account of the Twinford motion picture industry, which was famed for making a huge number of romantic costume dramas back in the day. The museum had a lot of monster costumes as well, zombies, vampires, mummies and the like – the thriller genre had been big business too.

  She checked the date on the bottle top. The date was three days away.

  The time for collection: 1am.

  She just needed to hold her nerve.

  THE NEXT MORNING RUBY LEFT FOR SCHOOL JUST LIKE ALWAYS, but when she made it to the bus stop she just kept on walking. There was a payphone next to the subway steps, she pushed in her quarter and dialled the school secretary.

  ‘Oh Hello, is that Mrs Bexenheath? It’s Sabina Redfort here, proud mother of Ruby … I wonder if you could advise, I do so value your experience with all things disease … I may be wrong, but Ruby is exhibiting all the signs of possible pink eye and I don’t wish to teach you how to suck eggs since I am sure, given your daily interaction with children, you could write a book on conjunctivitis, but I believe pink eye is highly contagious … I want to keep her home today and see what transpires, but you know Ruby, she’s all about the learning and is just insisting on making her classes today despite the doctor warning me that she might be a walking bacteria bomb, so I guess what I am asking is, should she come to school and perhaps start an epidemic or should I keep her at home? … I quite agree … thank you, Mrs Bexenheath, I will … and if we’re wrong you will see her tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy tailed … thank you! You have put my mind at ease … what would we parents do without your knowledge on these gruesome matters!’

  Then she skipped down the subway steps and rode the train to Chinatown and the Yellow Wind-Dragon dojo.

  She practised until 2pm.

  At 2.30pm she arrived at the Twinford council offices, changed into some orange overalls (much too large) and was issued with a roll of plastic sacks, a pair of thick gloves and a trash grabber.

  ‘OK Redfort,’ said the guy doling out the community service tasks, ‘you got your first three hours today, you got your instructions, you know what do.’

  She headed off to Oakwood and the place where the whole sorry event had taken place.

  She had been working for about two hours, sweeping up trash and shovelling it into sacks, and had just begun her next task, which was to plant a sapling – a replacement for the one that had been damaged in the fight – when she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘Rube, is that you?’

  Ruby looked up to see Elliot. ‘Does it look like me?’ she asked.

  ‘Kind of,’ said Elliot. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ said Ruby.

  Elliot shrugged. ‘Shovelling dirt around a tree?’

  ‘Or as we gardeners like to call it, planting stuff,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Looks like hard work,’ said Elliot.

  ‘Beats picking up garbage,’ said Ruby.

  ‘So what do you have to do once you’ve planted the tree?’ asked Elliot.

  ‘Pick up more garbage,’ said Ruby.

  Elliot made a face. ‘Can I help?’

  Ruby smiled up at him. ‘That’s really nice of you Elliot, but unless you happen to be assigned one of these orange jumpsuits then I’m afraid you’re out of luck.’

  Elliot peered into the huge bag of trash. ‘Did you find anything interesting?’ he asked.

  ‘A lot of lone sneakers,’ said Ruby. ‘Who are these people who go about losing single shoes?’

  ‘Beats me,’ said Elliot, ‘but let me know if you find anything interesting, OK?’

  ‘I’ll keep it for you,’ said Ruby.

  It was when she was nearing the end of her final half hour on trash collection that she did find something interesting. Not that it would be possible to hand it to Elliot; it wasn’t something you could take home. It was lying under a pile of junk in the small paved seating area to the side of Sunny’s Diner. As she was levering up an old car tyre, she discovered a brass plaque set into the paving. On it were the words:

  SITE OF THE FIRST

  TWINFORD LAW COURTS.

  Amazing what you discover when you pick through the garbage, she thought.

  When she got home, she showered and had another go at trying to scrub away the permanent, permanent marker pen words, but the scrubbing made her arm sore. It would go eventually, she thought. By the time I’m sixteen it will probably be almost invisible.

  The phone was ringing when she stepped out of the bathroom.

  ‘Twinford garbage control, you drop it, we pick it up.’


  ‘Hey Ruby, it’s Del. How about I buy you table time at Back-Spin, throw in a milkshake?’

  ‘Why would you wanna do that?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Just to, you know, show my appreciation. I bumped into Elliot; he said you were picking up trash on account of the whole community service thing.’

  ‘It was easy,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Still,’ said Del, ‘tomorrow after school?’

  ‘You got yourself a deal.’

  THE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL BEGAN IN THE USUAL WAY FOR EVERYONE BUT RUBY. She had decided to devote another day to Yellow Wind-Dragon kung fu.

  While Ruby was perfecting her movements, Del Lasco was sitting in the hot seat again. In fact, she had been in Principal Levine’s office for almost an hour and, although Del Lasco often found her way into the principal’s office and so this alone wasn’t unusual, what was strange was that she had no idea what had brought her here.

  ‘I’m truly sorry sir, but I have no idea what you are talking about.’

  The principal gave her one of his hard stares.

  ‘Vapona Begwell’s behavioural science project was found in your locker. What can you tell me about that?’ he said.

  But Del had nothing to say. What could she say? She was as surprised as anyone to find Vapona Bugwart’s behavioural science project in her locker.

  ‘You’re telling me that you have absolutely no clue as to how another student’s work came to be inside your locked locker?’ said Principal Levine.

  Del shrugged. ‘Beats me, I mean why would I even want Bugwar— I mean, Vapona’s project? I’m not judging or anything, but I mean, Vapona’s work isn’t exactly Nobel Prize material.’

  Principal Levine took out a file and dropped it onto his desk. ‘Del, I’m not suggesting that you have any interest in Vapona’s work. What I am putting to you is that you have an interest in messing with her life.’

  Del tried to look outraged, thought about it and decided it wasn’t really going to fly. The file Principal Levine had in front of him told the whole story. Vapona and Del had a long-running feud – a feud that had brought them both to this room more times than a few.

  ‘OK, sir, you’re right, Bug— Vapona and I don’t always see eye to eye.’

  The principal raised an eyebrow.

  ‘OK, Vapona and I aren’t friends.’

  Again, the principal’s eyebrow got mobile.

  ‘OK, it’s no secret, we hate each other’s guts. The Atlantic Ocean will probably freeze over before she stops being a royal pain in the butt.’

  Del caught Principal Levine’s expression. ‘Sorry, anyway, I might not like her, but I wouldn’t touch her stupid project and I wouldn’t stuff it in my own locker so I would get caught. If I was gonna take it then I would most probably throw it in the Twinford River …’ Principal Levine coughed. ‘I mean, but I never would.’

  ‘So how are we to explain that the project was in your locker?’

  Del shrugged. ‘How should I know, man— I mean, sir. I guess someone is trying to set me up … Maybe Bugwart put it there herself?’

  ‘And why would she do that?’

  ‘Like I said, to get me in trouble.’

  ‘But with no behavioural science project, wouldn’t she be the one to find herself in trouble?’

  ‘She tipped you off, she told you to break into my locker, this way she causes me a whole lotta grief and gets to hand her project in.’

  ‘I think that’s unlikely somehow.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because Vapona’s been off school for the last couple of days.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I regret that until I have some solid answers from you, I have no alternative but to send you home. As of now (he looked at his watch) you are suspended.’

  ‘You are totally not serious.’

  ‘I regret, Ms Lasco, that I am – totally serious.’

  Del rolled her eyes and exhaled. ‘Man!’ And as she walked through the school secretary’s office she continued to mutter, ‘This is totally not fair and totally not in the interest of truth and freedom.’

  Ruby, who had missed the day’s drama, was waiting patiently at Back-Spin.

  While she waited, she used the time to fill in the blanks in Clancy’s French homework. Most of it was blanks, but the essay she wrote was really pretty good, though not too good – she made sure there were plenty of mistakes.

  ‘You doing your homework?’ asked Sal.

  ‘Clancy’s homework, actually – just killing time until Del shows.’

  ‘You’re some friend,’ said Sal admiringly. ‘There’s no way I’d do another kid’s homework.’

  Ruby waited a little longer, looked at her watch more than a few times and eventually realised that perhaps Del Lasco was not going to show.

  She went over to the counter where Sal was chatting to Danny Jupiter. Del would be annoyed to miss him, she had a thing about Danny Jupiter. Ruby couldn’t see it herself.

  ‘Hey Sal, if Del comes in could you tell her I got better things to do than wait around for her?’

  ‘Sure Ruby, I’ll tell her,’ said Sal.

  ‘See you around,’ said Ruby.

  When Ruby got home she realised what she’d forgotten. Darn it, Clancy’s homework! It was still sitting on the table in Back-Spin. She called the table tennis cafe.

  ‘Sal, could you do me a total favour and give Clancy’s book to Danny and ask him to put it on Madame Loup’s desk tomorrow?’

  ‘No problem,’ said Sal.

  That taken care of, Ruby made herself a sandwich, poured a glass of banana milk and went up to her room. She found Bug waiting for her. He looked pleased to see her and got to his feet, tail wagging.

  Ruby flumped down on the beanbag, reached for a yellow plastic chicken and dialled Del’s number.

  ‘Yeah?’ came Del’s reply.

  ‘Hey, Lasco, where were you? I thought you wanted to play table tennis?’

  ‘You haven’t heard?’

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘I got busted, is what. Levine sent me home – suspended for the duration, I guess, and now majorly grounded too.’

  ‘How come? What have you done?’

  ‘It’s a mystery to me. Apparently I stole Bugwart’s behavioural science project and stashed it in my locker.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Because I’m a duh brain,’ said Del.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t do it, dope!’

  ‘So what happened?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Someone framed me, that’s what happened.’

  ‘But why?’ said Ruby. ‘Why would anyone do that?’

  ‘You don’t believe me?’ said Del.

  ‘Of course I believe you,’ said Ruby. ‘What I’m saying is, if you want to find out who set you up then you need to think why.’

  ‘I don’t need to know why,’ said Del. ‘I just want to find out who it is, and when I do, I’m going to punch their lights out.’

  ‘It’s weird though, isn’t it?’ said Ruby. ‘I mean apart from Bugwart, who’s got a problem with you?’

  Del was silent.

  ‘OK stupid question,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Look Rube, I appreciate your concern here, but if you don’t mind, right now all I wanna do is turn my stereo up real loud and eat my corn dippers.’

  THE NEXT DAY TWINFORD JUNIOR HIGH WAS ABUZZ WITH THE DEL LASCO PROJECT THEFT. Turn any corner that Friday morning and someone was talking about it.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Ruby. ‘I mean why does anyone think Del would do something that means she’s bound to get caught? Sure, she can be dumb sometimes, but this is off the idiot scale.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Clancy, ‘it’s not her style. She’s a lot of things, but she’s not a planner.’

  ‘It’s not a very good plan,’ said Mouse.

  ‘Good plan, bad plan, that’s not the point,’ continued Clancy. ‘What I’m saying is, she hasn’t got the patience for a plan.’ r />
  ‘No,’ agreed Elliot, ‘she’s strictly sock you in the nose and ask questions later.’

  It was during that morning that the whole sorry incident was explained. It didn’t make the least bit more sense than it had yesterday, but it did get Del Lasco off the hook. Fortunate for Del, less fortunate for the poor schmuck who was about to take the blame.

  Ruby had gone off to the City Library; she needed a particular translation of a book she was studying for music class, Sounds and Furies in E Minor, and she had been granted a couple of hours off campus.

  Clancy, meanwhile, was in his behavioural science class, standing up front explaining why and how he had come up with the idea for his project and the lengths he had gone to collecting the evidence.

  ‘I set this camera up in the main corridor that leads to the lockers. I wanted to prove that the locker areas are invaluable to students.’

  Vapona yawned.

  Mr Cornsworth said, ‘Put a sock in it, Miss Begwell.’

  Clancy continued. ‘My theory is that it is important for students to gather, talk, hang out, and the lockers are instrumental in strengthening bonds between individuals. Students migrate to the lockers not only for practical reasons but also because it helps bring about natural collisions and allows people to engineer social interaction without fear of losing face.’

  Vapona was cleaning her ears with a pencil and generally making a big display to her friends about how bored she was. Gemma Melamare was checking her nose in the mirror of her compact.

  Mr Cornsworth was trying to look encouraging. Not every student put so much effort into the projects he set, so he was appreciative of Clancy’s hard work.

  ‘OK,’ said Clancy, ‘you can run the tape.’ Mr Cornsworth switched out the lights and everyone stared at the screen. The film flickered on and students began walking up and down the school corridor. Clancy had sped up the playback so several days’ observation could be covered in just a few minutes.

  It was during the very last section, the final frames of the film, that something peculiar happened.

  A slight girl with long dark hair walked down the corridor to the bank of lockers. She was wearing a pair of jeans, Yellow Stripe sneakers and a short sleeved T-shirt with the word Bozo printed across the front.