Chapter Six
Jasper Blows a Fuse
“Don’t be hoodwinked by these deceptive little sneaks, Ms. Magellan,” Jasper advised in his gravelly, grumbling voice. His eye narrowed to a hateful crescent as he peered down at Maria and Sara, and his corncob pipe shifted between his teeth as he spoke. “They’re nothing but miscreants! Mischievous, little punks, filled to the brim with gumption. Gumption, I tell you!”
When they had seen their friends in trouble, Neil and Jack had begun to approach this confrontation. Now, they came to stand just beside Jasper. They were as yet unnoticed, since the hulking janitor’s peripheral vision was sorely lacking, thanks to his missing eye.
“Mr. Cragglemeister, are you really sure that you’re up for this chaperone duty?” Neil asked. “You look a tad under the weather, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Startled by the words, Jasper leaped straight up in the air, as if he had been goosed by nothing short of a flaming poker. His face contorting with outrage, he glowered down at Neil, who stood beside his elbow. “Confound it, boy! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry, Mr. Cragglemeister,” Neil responded politely, as he peered up at the broom-wielding behemoth. He adjusted the cap on his head, which featured the logo for the Green Beans baseball team, and scratched at his sandy hair. “But I got to tell it to you straight, sir – you don’t look so hot!”
“Maybe you should go home and take the rest of the day off,” Jack suggested, from beside Jasper’s other elbow.
At this, the janitor once more leaped in the air, startled yet again. He was not accustomed to children standing so close to him, and quite frankly, it made him a bit nervous. It was a completely new experience for him. Generally speaking, children would stay as far from him as possible… and that was exactly where Jasper liked for them to be.
“Codswallop and hickory sticks! Why are the two of you sneaking up on me?” Jasper demanded. “You had best respect your elders!”
“We’re just standing here,” Jack pointed out. “There’s not a whole lot of sneaking going on, as far as I can tell.”
“Are you giving me lip, boy?” Jasper asked, his voice rich with disdain and outrage. “Do you really think I want, or need, advice from a couple of mischievous, rabble-rousing, ten-year-old punks?”
“We’re only concerned about your well-being, sir,” Neil assured him. “You look much the worse for wear! I’m sure you’ve noticed that big bandage wrapped around your noggin. And you’re limping about quite a bit, not to mention that your arm’s in a sling. And, say – did you notice those scrapes and bruises on your face?”
Jasper spun about to glower once more at Neil, causing his ring of keys to jingle and jangle at his hip. He uttered an inarticulate sound of exasperation at the irrepressible fifth graders who were causing him such grief. His face was slowly turning redder, and Neil had a suspicion that the janitor’s ears were on the cusp of emitting streams of smoke. Finally, Jasper turned to Evelyn.
“Do you see what I mean?” he asked. “They’re full of gumption and backtalk! It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, I tell you! The amount of guff I have to take from this unruly lot defies all reason. It used to be that children respected their elders. They shouldn’t speak unless spoken to, that’s what I always say. But these four – they’re a miserable, misbegotten lot, if ever I’ve seen one.”
“Maybe you should have taken a sick day,” Neil suggested, in what he thought was a most helpful manner, despite Jasper’s continuing glower and clenched teeth. “To help you recover from your recent injuries, sir.”
“Never you mind my injuries, boy!” Jasper bellowed, pointing the bristles of his broom at Neil. “I’m the picture of perfect health!”
“I’m not so sure about that…” Jack said, as he rubbed at his chin in thought.
Jasper pointed at Maria’s backpack, which had come partially open when her sister had grasped it. “Why, look at what’s spilling out of that bag – she’s got all kinds of inappropriate stuff in there! I spot one… two… three baseballs, along with her catcher’s mitt, not to mention whatever else might be crammed in there. Why would anybody ever need to bring baseballs to a museum, much less three of them? She could break something!”
Evelyn, having silently observed the exchange between Jasper and the children, finally spoke. “Interesting,” she said with a flat voice. “I would have assumed a field trip chaperone would have less difficulty keeping his charges in order.”
Jasper initially looked abashed by her words, but this emotion was quickly redirected into anger toward the Beans. “Hmph,” he grumbled. “I should punish them. That’s what I should do. Severe discipline, that’s what this situation calls for!”
“I assure you, Mr. Cragglemeister, I have little interest in such trivial matters.” Evelyn’s eyes swept over the class of schoolchildren, and her expression was one of casual dismissal. “We’re already behind schedule, and the tour must recommence so that I can see to my other responsibilities.”
“But… but…” Jasper seemed genuinely flabbergasted by Evelyn’s words. “But there’s always time for punishment!”
“Perhaps on your schedule, but not on mine. My time is precious, and I’m quite confident that we’ve already wasted more than enough of it on this near disaster.”
“But… but…” Jasper stammered, looking down at the demure woman who stood before him. He vaguely waved his broom in the direction of the Beans, wordlessly attempting to express his exasperation.
“And there is no smoking in the museum, Mr. Cragglemeister!” Evelyn added.
Standing on the tips of her toes, she deftly snatched the corncob pipe from Jasper’s teeth. The Beans were astounded by this act of the plucky Ms. Magellan – rarely was the occasion when an adult stood up to Jasper!
Evelyn’s head only came to the height of the behemoth’s chest, he was so much bigger than her. Yet, she stood toe to toe with the janitor, not in the least intimidated by his daunting presence.
“Oh, come on,” Jasper protested. His voice was as close to a whine as the Beans had ever heard it. “There’s nothing in it, and I wasn’t actually smoking. It’s just from force of habit that I carry it around.”
Evelyn was unmoved by Jasper’s argument, and she showed no indication of reversing her decision to seize the contraband. She held the pipe pinched between her index finger and thumb, eyeing it as if it might be an item of unequaled foulness. It was by her side, but she was careful to keep it at a safe distance from her fine clothing.
Furtively looking around at the schoolchildren, Jasper leaned toward the woman and lowered his voice to a whisper. “To tell you the truth, I, um… I feel a bit naked without my trusty pipe.”
Though Jasper had done his best to keep his words between himself and Evelyn, the Beans had been able to hear him. At his strange admission, they burst into giggles.
“I see. You’re a bit old for a security blanket, aren’t you?” Evelyn asked.
This only made the Beans laugh harder. Jasper swiveled his head, glowering at each of them in turn. Then, with what must have been a monumental effort for him, he slowly twisted his lips into a smile. It was a visible struggle to do so, and the expression looked uncomfortable and ill-placed on his face, which was perpetually cast into a surly scowl.
“Um… please?” he asked, and the word seemed to almost get wedged stuck in his throat, as if it were something he had not had very much practice at saying in the past.
Evelyn was not impressed by this poor attempt at humility, and she did not return the pipe. “Keep it up, Mr. Cragglemeister, and I just might have to take that fancy broom of yours, too.”
At this declaration, Jasper looked positively aghast. He gasped in horror at the very notion of losing his broom, and he reflexively clutched it closer to his chest.
Quickly stepping back from Evelyn, he gave the Beans a final glower, and then departed. He limped away, muttering dark sentiments beneath his breath, his black
boots thundering across the tile floor.
“Aw, lighten up, will ya, Jasper?” Jack called out to the janitor’s back as he stomped away.
“Why is everybody always telling ol’ Jasper to lighten up?” the janitor could be heard grumbling, his face as red as a basketful of tomatoes.
He was so furious, the Beans hoped to catch a glimpse of smoke pouring from his ears, or perhaps even a spark or two. Sure, it was implausible (Jasper wasn’t a robot, after all), but he was really steamed. He looked like he had blown a fuse, as Neil’s dad, Coach, liked to say.
The Beans were a bit disappointed that nothing came shooting from Jasper’s ears, but they reasoned that they could certainly try harder, the next time they went about exasperating the cantankerous janitor. Though it was true that, in some regards, he possessed a genius intellect, in other ways, he was nothing short of a bumbling, ill-tempered buffoon – a doorknob, as Uncle Lefty called him.
“You know something?” Neil whispered to Jack. “She’s a bit scary, but I think I really like this curator.”