The Golden Whisper

The Golden Whisper

  Copyright 2014 A.C. Riggan

  Table of Contents.

  Chapter One: Pocahontas of Pickering

  Chapter Two: Vinnie and Smokes

  Chapter Three: To hear or not to hear

  Chapter Four: Plum Brum

  Chapter Five: Arts and Crafts

  Chapter Six: The Golden Whisper

  Chapter Seven: Rumble tumble

  Chapter One: Pocahontas of Pickering.

  Pocahontas Primary School of Pickering was buzzing with excitement. It was its final week of special projects and crafts, leading up to a big fund raising festival. Classes of children worked away like little elves making photo frames, friendship bracelets, and fridge magnets with hearts on them. “Get the kids to put “I love you” and “You’re the best, blah, blah, blah” on all that stuff. Appeal to the soppy boo-boo in all of the parents, and we’ll rake the money in,” said Principal Brum, his bald head shining under the lights, as he walked down the hallway to greet the subs for the day. An army of substitute teachers had been called in to keep the kids on track, while the teachers had meetings. Miss Franzipants was one of them, a new sub, and a bit of an odd ball to be honest. She was old, and very grey, a little bent over, but she moved surprisingly quickly. Her brown tights were laddered, her sweater was too baggy, and she wore galoshes. And her face was a bit of a mess. Her wrinkles couldn’t detract from the fact that her nose hair ebbed and flowed as she breathed. She squinted at the attendance sheet.

  “Rappunzella? Rappunzella Toth? Is she here?” she asked, lifting her glasses. As she looked around the room there was a sudden loud crack of laughter from the boy nearest to her, Samuel Bunkit. “Look at her eyes!” he yelled, as loud as a fog horn, and pointed right at her face. Giggles and cracks of laughter followed from the rest of the third graders, as the kids realized that Miss Franzipants had brilliant blue eyeshadow over only one eye. Franzipants popped her glasses back on her nose and sat down; she didn’t seem to notice the commotion. “Now children, Miss Primrose would like you to do your daily math and reading before your crafts,” she said as she handed out the workbooks. ”Page 39.” Her boots rubbed together and squeaked and flopped as she walked around the room. “There’s a special assembly during second period, so you won’t be having Social Studies.”

  “Yesss!” cried out Connor Evans, shooting up out of his seat, with fists clenched, eyes tightly shut, facing the ceiling, as if he had just won the lottery. “ I hate Social Studies!”

  “That’s ‘cause you’re a baby,” called out Nancy Velazquez.

  “You’re the poopy-diaper baby Nancy,” replied Connor with a snarl. All the children at once faced the confrontation, waiting to hear more.

  “Mama, pppffffttt, mama pppfffft,” added Samuel Bunkit making farting noises, and sticking out his bottom. The kids howled with laughter, and so did Samuel, who always laughed at his own jokes. His rather large belly showed under his short t-shirt as he wiggled, and he laughed so much that his gum fell out of his mouth.

  “Now students,” Franzipants called out. “I have cherry licorice for those who sit quietly and do the work.” Some of the kids faced forward and looked at their workbooks elbowing the others who weren’t listening. Licorice was the only good thing about having a sub. And Miss Primrose made sure that there was plenty in her supplies closet. Subs would have a terrible time, were it not for the licorice. Once a sub only had cheesy crackers to give to the students, and the situation turned ugly. That sub went home early, crying, with a headache, chalk on her face, and a shoe missing.

  At the end of the lesson, Franzipants disappointedly asked the students to put their books away and line up. She was disappointed because no work had been done. Explain as she might, the kids spent the whole lesson asking questions like, ”What did she say?” “What page are we on?” “Do we need our books?” “Who stole my pencil?, and “What are we doing?” She opened the door and prepared to lead the kids to the assembly room when suddenly, the strangest thing caught her eye. Down the empty hall, a man in very dirty clothes, carrying a shovel, was sneaking out of one of the rooms. He looked both ways before he took a step, and then suddenly a hand grabbed him from inside the room, pulled him back and slammed the door. There was some banging, and the sound of the shovel clanging on the floor, and then silence. Miss Franzipants barely had any time to think about what she had just seen, as a fifth grade class filed quickly by her followed by another sub. “How’s it goiiiiing?” asked the lady nasally.

  “Oh,” said Miss Franzipants, taken by surprise. “They’re fine, but they don’t listen very well.”

  “Oh, awesoooome!” replied the sub, obviously not listening. “You just have yourself a great daaay!” she said with a grin that didn’t seem to move, and quickly followed her class. When her students were more or less in a line, Franzipants lead them down the hall. As they approached the room that she’d seen the man come out of, she noticed that there was a dirty footprint on the floor where he had stepped.

  “What is this room, children?” Franzipants asked.

  “Oh, that’s the seeecret room, Miss,” replied Nancy Velazquez, with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “All our special treats and rewards for good behavior are in there. And there are iPods, games, and Nike stuff for the kids who get the yellow hat.”

  “The yellow hat?” Franzipants asked.

  “Yeh,” blurted Samuel. “Turning inappropriate behavior to appropriate behavior is what makes us yellow hat champions Miss Franzipants,” he recited.

  "But you can't go in there," whispered Nancy. "It's always locked!"

  Chapter Two: Vinnie and Smokes.

  The Brutticuli corner shop was located on Fifth and Cherry street, just across a small park from Pocahontas Primary School. It was a gaudy, two story shop, bursting with merchandise on both floors. The shelves were crammed from ceiling to floor with everything that anyone could ever need. There were boxed dinners, cans of a hundred kinds, diapers, toilet paper, headache pills, and engine oil. Toilet plungers stood next to the cereals, Hannuka candles next to the hot dogs, and a vertical line of wigs of different kinds hung in the middle of the baked beans section. Near the till was a fifteen foot fridge with glass doors, the pride of the Brutticuli brothers who owned the place. And pride was what this store was all about. The brothers, Vinnie and Smokes, had poured their hearts and minds into the corner shop. It was to be the ultimate store, “With all we’ve got bro’,” Vinnie would say, “we’re gonna take out the big names in town. Cause you know why?” he said, cracking his neck to one side, and not waiting for Smokes to answer. “Cause we got heart bro, you and me.”

  The brothers were not the brightest, but they were determined. Vinnie years earlier had wanted to join the army, but was turned down. He’d dreamed of battles in foreign lands, being a hero, and getting medals. Smokes, his younger brother, had a knack for finding things, you know, the kinds of things that fall off the back of a truck, or merchandise that magically appears. So they put their determination and skill together to form this empire of stuff, and wrapped it all in an Italian theme, the brainchild of Vinnie.

  Their great-great-great grandfather had emigrated from Italy, and how convenient that was for the brothers, because it made their store interesting. Not that they knew anything about Italy. They were about as Italian as a bagel. They wouldn’t have recognized a fettucine even if it had walked up to them and slapped them in the face. But the Italian style certainly brought in the customers. And because of this, they had gone to town with the Italian theme. Next to the front door hung a huge Italian flag, which was actually upside down, but they didn’t know. In the middle of aisle three, Vinnie and Smokes had cut out ten feet of shelves, and put in a fountain, in the
middle of which was a statue of Neptune riding giant sea horses. It was plastic, and wobbled and shuddered when the water sputtered out of the sea horses' mouths, but it was the glory of the Brutticuli store. Occasionally, a box of macaroni and cheese would fall off of the shelf next to the fountain because of all the vibrations, and would be found floating around near the feet of Neptune.

  Hanging on the walls above the shelves, were dozens of pictures of Italy, some in ornate, golden colored plastic frames, and others just stuck on with tape. There was the Colosseum, the leaning tower of Pisa, Venice, the amazing Dolomites, and a magazine shot of Gladiator chopping someone’s head off. They threw in the Egyptian pyramids and Big Ben as well, because really, who would know that they’re not in Italy, and who cares anyway? In front of the pictures, all around the room, were a collection of dusty stuffed birds of all kinds: pheasants, grouse, ducks, roosters, and a faded peacock. They had been ‘found’ by Smokes one day when he’d been dumpster diving behind a sporting goods store. They looked down silently over all the comings and goings of the shop: the customers, the deliveries, the threats, the way Vinnie switched labels, so popular items would sell for double the price, and how Smokes would sprinkle Neptune’s water on the day old doughnuts so they’d stay soft. If the birds could have spoken, they would have had a lot to say, especially about the goings on in the back room.

  Behind the shop, was a storage area that led to the backyard. One at a time, the brothers would disappear there for hours. There was always commotion and noise coming from the back, “Construction” Vinnie would say to his customers. Their guard dog, Ice, made sure that no one wandered into the back room. Neither did any one dare to come near the back yard, as he patrolled it constantly. Ice would walk into the store from the backyard with a muscular trot, right up to the counter where one of the brothers would give him a treat. He’d make the rounds of any customers who were there, putting on cute, big eyes to get petted, and back to the yard he would go. On the way, he’d look up to the stuffed birds and give a low growl, and then strut up to the back door and shove it open with his broad shoulder. This was the way it was in the Brutticuli empire, to sell, to expand, to reach out and take what wasn’t theirs. They were digging for their fortune, and only the birds knew it.

  Chapter Three: To hear or not to hear.

  As the students of Pocahontas Primary School filed into the assembly room, they were giddy with excitement. The little ones sprang up and down like lambs, and the older children shoved each other and joked about the teachers. “Woah!” could be heard from the classes, as they gazed around the room that was festooned with balloons and banners. The fourth graders were on stage, each wearing a yellow hat and holding a small flag that said ‘Festival’ on it. They were going to perform a song they had written for the fundraiser. Principal Brum, shushed the students and tapped his microphone. “Okay kids, who’s looking forward to the festival?” he called out, throwing his arms up, and beaming a smile at the first row of kindergarteners. “Me!” the kids thundered back.

  “Do we want new playground equipment?” he shouted.

  “Yes!” chorused the students.

  “Do we want computers that work?”

  “Yes!” came the reply again.

  “Do we want fresher veggies for lunch?”

  “Yes!”

  “And do we want a new carpet for the library?” A half-hearted “Yes” came back from the kids; they didn’t seem excited about the carpet or the library. The fourth graders sang their song and waved their flags, and then seven students were presented with giant yellow hats for improved behavior. They got to wear the hats all day, and whenever a teacher would see one of them, he or she was supposed to say, “Hello champion!” Franzipants wandered into the office to make photocopies while the assembly was going on. The secretary, nurse, custodian, and counselor were busy talking. “Well, I think the new recess schedule is nothing but a problem,” said the secretary Liz Marmouth.

  “I agree with you, as always Lizzy,” replied the custodian, Dan, leaning with one elbow on her desk and gazing misty eyed at her perfectly curled hair and mascaraed eyelashes. Miss Marmouth barely realized that he was there. “Hey, I finally got my business license,” he said, pointing through the window at his parked van that had ‘Dan’s Doggy Grooming’ written on the side.

  “What I’m saying isn’t nonsense,” scowled Liz, as she picked up a ringing phone.

  “I said license, my license, remember,” he said, trying to wake up her senses. He looked into her pretty blue eyes and whispered, “You’re beautiful Lizzy, would you like to walk with me after school today?” he blushed.

  “What?” she answered looking annoyed. She covered the mouthpiece and said, “I don’t want to go to the swimming pool! There’re some dirty footprints to clean up in hall 3,” she waved at him to leave, and he did so with his head down. “Footprints?” thought Franzipants. There were more? What on earth was going on in that secret room? She decided to take the photocopies back to Miss Primrose’s room, and on the way investigate. As the last few papers were printing, the counselor and nurse got into an argument. “I said the anti-bullying speaker for the 5th graders will be here at noon,” said the nurse.

  “Well, I wish you’d just tell me when he’ll be here,” replied the counselor, frustrated. “I said NOONA,” responded the nurse, leaning towards the counselor, her eyes extra wide.

  “Okay, okay, I thought you said ‘soon’! Well,” she said in a huff,” I just hope he doesn’t give them any ideas.”

  “What?” replied the nurse, “that’s why he’s here: not to give the kids ideas about becoming bullies, but about not becoming bullies.”

  “I just don’t understand you sometimes!” said the counselor as she walked off.

  Franzipants stacked the papers together and made her way to the secret room in hall number 3. As she turned the corner onto the hall, she saw Dan lock the door, clip the jangle of keys back on his belt, and start walking quickly down the hall, his head down as if he was deep in thought. He looked up suddenly when he heard Franzipants’ boots squeak, and without saying a word, fixed his dark eyes on hers, like a dog suddenly seeing a cat. He walked past her and quickly disappeared. Franzipants walked up to the door. The footprints were gone; there was not a trace of them. But why had Dan even been in the room? She slowly put her hand on the door handle. Suddenly, there was a deep, gravelly growl from inside the room, and the sound of sniffing. Franzipants’ heart jumped. Undeterred, she got down on her hands and knees and laid her head on one side, right next to the bottom gap of the door.

  She strained her left eye to see into the room. There was no light, nothing that she could see. But there was something else: a smell. It was a mix of garlic and soil, musty and pungent. It blew on her face, carried by a breeze from somewhere, as if a door to the outside had opened up on the other side of the room. “Well, this is most odd!” she said out loud. Instantly, there was a snarly, drooly growl right next to her eye, the hot breath of it made her blink. A loud scuffle took place, a dog yelped, and then a rumbling sound of heavy furniture moving shook the air and rattled the door. Franzipants got up quickly, stumbling against the door. She ran into Miss Primrose’s room, put the photocopies on the desk, and raced down the hall to the principal’s office, as fast as her boots could squeak.

  Chapter Four: Plum Brum.

  When she reached the office, both secretaries and the nurse were sitting stiffly and silently, their eyes wide, looking back and forth at each other, as if preparing for a shock wave of some sort. The noise of Franzipants rushing in, broke the silence, but the sub could see that something bad either had happened or was about to. The three ladies looked up at her, and did a double take. Franzipants felt suddenly self-conscious as she saw all three sets of eyebrows rise curiously and then frown in disapproval. She didn’t realize that lying on the floor to see under the door had smudged her blue eyeshadow up her forehead, her hair was flat on
one side where she had laid, her sweater twisted around her torso, and her glasses were hanging from her ear. “I need to talk to Principal Brum,” Franzipants said breathlessly. “I think something bad is going on in the secret room in hall three.” There was no response from the three on-lookers. “Um, I heard a dog, and there was a smell of garlic, and …um,” her confidence began to wane. “I heard…. heavy furniture moving around, ah, and footprints.” Still no response. Franzipants looked from one lady to the other, her eyes now as wide and exasperated as theirs. They hadn’t heard a word she had said. Were they deaf? Was she dreaming? The answer to those questions came in a sudden blast of yelling from the principal’s office. “How is it possible that so much donated merchandise can go missing every year?” thundered Brum from he next room. The ladies stiffened again; they certainly weren’t deaf. “And now the door is jammed shut, you say? How in tarnation did that happen, can you tell me!”

  The Principal’s door suddenly swung open and the figure of Dan could be seen backing out of the room slowly. In the room, on the other side of the desk was what looked like a giant, bright red plum on the shoulders of the man who had been Principal Brum. “How do you suppose I’m going to explain this to our generous donors, especially when our fundraiser is only two days away?” he steamed, thumping the desk and shooting up out of his chair, like a hot waffle out of a toaster. “Well sir,” replied Dan stammering slightly, “you know the l-l-lock’s always been iffy. And the teachers, God bless ’em, are always misplacing this and that, with them being s-s-so busy an’ all.”

  “So what does that make us, Dan?” thundered Brum, pronouncing every word slowly, and lunging angrily towards him. “The pathetic Pocahontas pansies who lose everything! For criminy's sake! Do I have to do everything myself around here to make us profitable, - I mean to make the kids successful?” he quickly corrected himself. He reached up to his head in a dramatic gesture of grabbing his hair, but as he didn’t have any, he simply made two fists on either side of his head, and shook them. Dan continued to back out of the room until he bumped into the nurse’s desk. Brum came hopping out after him, now more purple than red. In his whirling fury he grabbed a stack of Styrofoam cups that were next to the coffee machine, and threw them like a javelin across the office. They didn’t go very far. All eyes went from the scattered cups back to the volcano; would it erupt again? Franzipants stood in shock, her mouth open, speechless, her nose hair barely moving. Brum scanned the faces in the room like a robot of destruction, looking for its target. He saw Franzipants. “Yes!” he demanded acidically.