“But we weren’t there,” put in Boots quickly. “We were still on campus.”
“How admirable,” said the Headmaster sarcastically. “No doubt Miss Burton and Miss Grant were joining in the festivities. I don’t suppose you’d care to furnish a list of the other merrymakers.” There was dead silence. “I thought not.”
“So it’s pretty straightforward,” Bruno concluded. “Miss Scrimmage caught Mr. Carson and was taking him over to your place. So we were going to confess, but Miss Scrimmage thought we were a street gang and passed out.”
“And the sunglasses?” Mr. Sturgeon prompted.
“Oh, right. Well — remember Elmer’s Manchurian bush hamsters? The ones you wouldn’t let him keep in the dorm? They got lost, so Elmer gave us infrared goggles so we could look for them in the dark.”
The Headmaster sat forward in alarm. “And did you find them?”
“Well, no. Miss Scrimmage messed everything up. But we’ll keep looking.”
“Do that, Walton,” sighed Mr. Sturgeon, feeling rather uncomfortably that this was his fault. “Please tell Drimsdale that I shall notify the local authorities to be on the lookout for them as well. You are dismissed.”
Gratefully Bruno and Boots scurried off.
* * *
The Warriors had the afternoon off, so Kevin Klapper travelled to Toronto to take his family to the zoo. Klapper had been away for some time and was making a concerted effort to spoil his children, as he had missed them very much. Any food, toy or souvenir they wanted was instantly theirs.
Marjorie Klapper watched the family reunion fondly. She was used to her husband being out of town so often and was grateful to him for making the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Toronto to visit her and the children.
Finally Karen and Kevin, Jr., ran ahead into the monkey house, leaving the two parents alone.
“Kevin,” Marjorie began, “I’ve been getting some strange phone calls from your boss, Mr. Greer. What exactly are you doing at this Macdonald Hall?”
“My job,” said Klapper absently. “I don’t talk about it, because I know how much it bores you.” He pointed into the monkey house. “Look at Karen in front of the orangutan cage.”
“But Kevin,” Marjorie persisted. “Mr. Greer says you’re not supposed to be at Macdonald Hall anymore. And he says you don’t answer his phone calls.”
He looked surprised. “I’ve written him twice to tell him exactly what I’m doing. What’s wrong with the man?”
His wife looked worried. “Mr. Greer said your last letter barely even got to him. He said it made no sense, and most of it was covered with food. He’s very anxious about you, Kevin.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Everything is fine, Marjorie. I’m really enjoying my work at Macdonald Hall. Look at me. Have you ever seen me so relaxed and happy? I’ll straighten everything out with Greer. I’m sure it’s a simple misunderstanding. He has a very important job, you know, and he’s under a lot of pressure. Now, come on. Let’s grab the kids and go get some cotton candy.”
* * *
“Fihzgart,” said Coach Flynn at Monday’s practice, “I’ve talked to Miss Hildegarde, and she says there was never anything wrong with you. It’s been over two weeks now. Are you on the team or what?”
“Of course I’m on the team,” growled Calvin, whose arm was still taped up and bent at the elbow in the pillowcase-sling. “I’m just on the mend, Coach.”
The coach threw his hands up in exasperation. “What about our next game? Are you playing?”
Calvin patted his wounded arm gingerly. “You know I want to, Coach. But if I get hit hard before my compound fracture heals all the way, it could be a career-ending injury.”
Mr. Carson called everyone together for a team meeting. “Men, we’re on the road this week against Kingston Junior High. We’re going to drive to Kingston in the morning, play the game and stay overnight in a motel near the school.”
Bruno and Boots exchanged looks of pure agony. An uneasy murmur passed through the team. Would they have to play another game without Cathy?
“I know the bus ride is a pain,” put in Klapper, “but that’s football.”
“We’ve got mostly home games because ours is one of the best stadiums,” Mr. Carson added. “It won’t kill us to go out of town this once.”
As they headed for the clubhouse, Boots sidled up to Cathy. “Now what?”
“There is no way I’m missing this game,” replied Cathy’s voice from behind the frames of Elmer’s glasses.
“Maybe she could stow away on the bus,” mused Bruno thoughtfully.
“Are you crazy?” cried Boots. “What if one of the coaches saw her?”
“Maybe we could tell them the truth, and they wouldn’t mind,” suggested Bruno. “They know how great she is.”
“If you guys are finished …” said Cathy sarcastically. “How about I convince Miss Scrimmage to take the cheerleaders to Kingston?”
“She’d say yes?” asked Bruno in disbelief.
“Of course not,” Cathy replied. “But when the whole school lays a guilt trip on her because of the game we lost, she might change her mind. It’s worth a shot, anyway. See you.” She ran off into the clubhouse.
Boots watched her jog away. “She really runs that school,” he commented in awed respect.
Bruno nodded. “Oh, yeah.”
* * *
As soon as it was officially announced across the road that Miss Scrimmage intended to take The Line of Scrimmage to Kingston for the game, Bruno and Boots went to see Elmer Drimsdale.
Bruno knocked politely on the door of room 201. “Hi, Elm. It’s us. Can we come in?” He pushed the door open, and he and Boots entered.
The room was a sea of boxes. Elmer had crated up all his experiments and machines and stacked them in small pyramids around the room. The chemistry lab was gone, too, replaced by a huge carton bearing labels reading DANGER: KEEP AWAY FROM HEAT, DANGER: CORROSIVE and DANGER: DO NOT AGITATE. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t in some type of box, besides Elmer’s school books, was the battered empty cage that had once held the bush hamsters. It was at this that Elmer was staring, seated on his bed, the picture of despair.
“What hit this place?” Boots blurted out.
Elmer looked up from the cage. “I haven’t had any interest in my other experiments ever since the bush hamsters disappeared.”
“Come on, Elm,” argued Bruno. “What’s one little foul-up? Think of all the great stuff you’ve done!”
Elmer shook his head. “I could make machines and chemicals do what I wanted them to, but when it came time that an endangered species needed my help, I let them down.”
“Not true!” insisted Bruno. “Those bush hamsters took off on you, remember? You didn’t open up the cage and say, ‘Hey, rats, hit the road!’ Besides, you’ll have them back any time now. The Fish told the police and put notices in all the local stores, so the whole countryside’s looking for them. And all the guys are, too, because Dave told the Blabbermouth.” Elmer looked unconvinced. “Anyway, Elm, we can’t think about that now. Another crisis has come up, and Macdonald Hall needs your help.”
“What kind of help?” asked Elmer suspiciously.
“Well,” began Boots, “the football team —”
“A-ha!” screamed Elmer. “From now on I’m having nothing to do with your football team. If it wasn’t for that team and its victory party and its zucchini sticks, my bush hamsters would still be here today!”
“But you haven’t even heard what you have to do yet,” Bruno protested.
“I’m not interested. All year you’ve needed my help, and all year I’ve been miserable.” He folded his arms in front of him. “No.”
“But Elmer, it’s important. Miss Scrimmage thinks she’s bringing ten cheerleaders to Kingston. The extra one is Cathy —”
“I’m not listening,” interrupted Elmer.
“So on the field there’ll only be nine, because Cathy will be p
laying. And Miss Scrimmage may not be too bright, but she can count. And let’s face it, Elm. You have nothing to do during the game, so I just thought —”
Elmer pointed a long, bony finger right into Bruno’s face. “You want me to be a cheerleader!” he accused.
“A wig, maybe a little makeup, and nobody would know the difference,” Bruno reasoned. “It would fix everything. Because if Miss Scrimmage sees only nine cheerleaders and thinks she’s lost a girl, she’ll raise a big stink, and we’ll get found out.”
Elmer’s face turned purple. “I am bowed down with disbelief! The fact that you could ask me to do this proves that you are not a human being!”
“Elmer, I’m pleading! Look! I’m begging!” Bruno got down on his knees. “Do this one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything again as long as I live!”
Elmer looked disgusted. “If I thought you meant that —”
“I do! I do! Boots is our witness! Honest! Never again!”
From his desk, Elmer produced a sheet of Canadian Horticultural Society stationery, and wrote:
I, Bruno Walton, hereby certify that upon completion of prescribed cheerleading duties by Elmer Drimsdale on November 7 of this year, I will never again ask said E. Drimsdale to help me or anyone or anything else, nor try to recruit him for any purpose, so long as we both shall live.
Bruno signed readily, and Boots gave his signature as a witness. Elmer took the paper and clutched it to his heart.
Bruno looked annoyed. “Remember, if you chicken out on us, it’s a breach of contract.”
Boots grabbed his roommate by the collar. “Shut up, Bruno. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.”
* * *
The bus carrying the Macdonald Hall Warriors left at eight o’clock Saturday morning. The trip was a lively affair. Elmer was in great spirits the whole way, laughing and joking and showing off his contract with Bruno.
“Favouritism,” muttered Wilbur darkly. “Why can’t I get one of those?”
“Keep your voice down,” said Bruno irritably. “If the Blabbermouth finds out about this, we’re dead.”
“I’ve never seen Elmer so happy,” remarked Pete.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a theory about that,” said Boots worriedly. “When the bush hamsters disappeared, I think he went a little nutty. Do you know he packed up all his experiments?”
“I didn’t mean to let those bush hamsters loose,” said Sidney, who had felt horribly guilty ever since the incident. “It was an accident.”
“No one’s blaming you, Sidney,” said Larry soothingly. “Any damage you cause goes down as an act of nature, like an earthquake, or a tidal wave.”
They arrived at eleven-thirty. Miss Scrimmage’s group was already there, since the Headmistress drove the school minibus personally, averaging 140 kilometres per hour the whole trip. The Kingston Junior High Kings played in a local high school stadium, not nearly as modern as the Macdonald Hall facility, but with seating for over a thousand spectators.
The Warriors were warming up and stretching, and the cheerleaders were setting up for their opening routine when the tenth member of The Line of Scrimmage took the field.
“Ohhh!” groaned Dave Jackson. “Those cheerleaders are embarrassing! They’re terrible! Check out the red-haired one with the bow legs. She looks like she can’t even see where she’s going!”
Boots grinned nervously. “Look closer, Dave.”
Dave squinted at the redhead and goggled. “It’s Elmer! Elmer without his glasses! Man, he makes an ugly cheerleader!”
Elmer, dressed in a Line of Scrimmage uniform, a gaudy red wig that positively glowed in the chill November sun, makeup and eye shadow liberally slopped on his face, was barrelling wildly around the sidelines. Without his glasses, and wearing shoes a size and a half too tight, he was out of control, bouncing off the other cheerleaders as though he were caught amidst the bumpers of a pinball machine, pom-poms flailing wildly.
“Elmer, calm down!” ordered Wilma Dorf, the head cheerleader.
Elmer couldn’t hear her over the sound of his own voice screaming, “Yay, team, go, team, go!” He was fiercely determined to be the best cheerleader on the field, so that Bruno could never say he had failed while under contract.
The start of the game was delayed because the Kings were bowled over in amazement, and the Warriors were laughing too hard to kick off. Bruno and Cathy in particular were half collapsed in hysterics by the 30-yard line, holding onto each other for support. Boots stood near them, saying, “Sure. Go ahead and laugh. What are we going to do if he kills somebody?”
“Wow!” exclaimed Mr. Carson as Elmer blindly decked Ruth Sidwell and continued his rampage on the sidelines. “Who’s that?”
Mr. Klapper shook his head. “I wish we had her for the defence.”
Finally the game began, and the other cheerleaders managed to quiet Elmer and sit him down. Soon, though, the Kings fumbled, and Macdonald Hall recovered, and Wilma hauled Elmer to his feet so the cheerleaders could do their usual celebration.
“Way to go, team! Number one! Yes!” He began a mad dance, darting around like a grasshopper in a jar. An errant hand clouted Wilma on the jaw, and the other cheerleaders dropped to the ground to avoid his flailing arms.
“What are we going to do?” one referee asked the other.
The man shrugged helplessly. “Is it legal to penalize a cheerleader for unnecessary roughness?”
Stepping on Wilma’s leg, Elmer staggered out onto the field. The crowd rose to its feet in a standing ovation, and Bruno and Boots grabbed Elmer and dragged him to the sidelines. There was a loud chorus of booing from the stands.
“Elmer, you’ve got to mellow out!” Boots exclaimed frantically.
Elmer rubbed his eyes, smearing his mascara into large black rings that made him look like a raccoon. “I can’t see anything! And my shoes are too tight!”
“Try not to be so violent,” coached Bruno. “And don’t yell so loud.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” said Elmer belligerently. “You’re trying to make me do a bad job so you can tear up the contract!”
“Just cool it!”
They led Elmer back to the other cheerleaders, amid tumultuous applause, and jogged back toward the play.
The first half of the game turned out to be a defensive battle, with neither side able to produce a touchdown. Cathy had thrown several perfect passes, but the Macdonald Hall receivers were having a tough day, dropping almost everything that came their way. As the half neared its close, with the score still 0–0, the crowd became bored and restless.
Suddenly someone started to chant, “We want the redhead!” until it caught on, and soon the whole stadium rang with, “We want the redhead! We want the redhead!”
In a panic, Boots nudged Bruno. “They’re calling for Elmer!”
His red wig a fiery blur, Elmer rocketed off the cheerleaders’ bench to a huge ovation. He opened his mouth and bellowed:
“Two-Four-Six-Eight!
“Whom do we appreciate?”
“YOU!” the crowd roared back.
Macdonald Hall used its last remaining timeout to get Elmer off the field.
In the second half, the Kings came out flying, taking the lead 14–0, and things were looking grim indeed for Macdonald Hall.
“I hope you’ve got a speech to explain why this is a positive experience!” groaned Coach Flynn to Kevin Klapper as Dave Jackson let a pass slip right through his extended hands.
“All we need is one big play,” said Klapper anxiously. “Then everything’s going to start clicking. I can feel it.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than an unlikely hero emerged for Macdonald Hall. With an offhand remark about Gerald Hoskins’ chronic bad breath, Myron Blankenship jogged onto the scene and kicked an almost impossible long-distance field goal.
From that moment, the Zucchini Warriors took over. Cathy threw two touchdown passes to make the final score 17–14 in favour of Macdonald Hall.
The Warriors were ecstatic, and even the Kingston fans were not disappointed, as they were treated to the sight of Elmer Drimsdale’s victory dance, which brought the house down.
* * *
There was no Mr. Zucchini outlet in Kingston, so the team feasted on a victory dinner of hamburgers while the community newspaper interviewed quarterback Elmer Drimsdale about his two spectacular fourth-quarter touchdowns. Mr. Carson sent them to bed early.
“There,” said Bruno, adjusting the hotel room thermostat with the edge of his lucky penny. “The knob part’s broken off, but it’s okay now. Hey, Boots, what’s eating you?”
The two were preparing for bed in their tiny room at the Olympiad Motel, not too far from Kingston Junior High.
Boots was seated on his bed, looking unhappy. “It’s Elmer. You saw him today. He was like a Mexican jumping bean with lipstick! Think about the Elmer we know — dull, quiet, meek. I think we pushed him too far and messed up his personality.”
“I know what you mean,” said Bruno thoughtfully. He threw on his jacket over his pyjamas. “So let’s pay Elmer a visit — you know, to see how he’s doing. Just watch out for Hank the Tank.”
Barefoot despite the cold autumn night, the boys padded past the ice machine to the room Elmer was sharing with Pete Anderson. They knocked softly and entered.
The entire Kingston Junior High cheerleading squad sat cross-legged on the floor with Elmer, sharing a huge pepperoni-and-mushroom pizza. Elmer was in the middle of a play-by-play description of his brilliant field generalship, while Pete sat on his bed, staring in amazement.
“Hey, Elm,” said Bruno. “What is this?”
“A few people who appreciate good football and fine Italian food,” said Elmer.
In the background, Pete shrugged expansively.
“You’re the greatest quarterback in the world,” one of the girls told Elmer. “But you’ve got to get rid of that redheaded cheerleader. She’s got legs like a piano.”
“And she’s crazy!” added another vehemently.