The War With Mr. Wizzle

  Bruno and Boots left the office and crossed the campus, not daring to speak until they were safely inside room 306.

  “I don’t understand how The Fish always seems to know exactly what we’re doing!” exclaimed Boots, still trembling.

  “Yeah,” said Bruno. “Hey, we’ve got to get together with our department heads and talk about how we’re going to marry off Wizzle.”

  “But Bruno,” protested Boots, “we promised The Fish we’d disband The Committee!”

  “Oh, this isn’t The Committee,” explained Bruno reasonably. “We’re working with Scrimmage’s now. It’s kind of a coalition. Yeah, that’s it. It’s The Coalition. You didn’t hear The Fish tell us to disband The Coalition, did you?”

  “Well, no,” said Boots, “but it’s the same thing. And we’re not allowed to bug Wizzle.”

  “We’re not bugging him,” said Bruno righteously. “We’re arranging for his lifelong happiness. Someday he’ll thank us for it.”

  “We’re not going to get away with this, you know, Bruno.”

  “Of course we are! We’re The Committee — I mean, The Coalition! Right now let’s get over to The Coalition Lines Department. We’ve got some work for them. And tonight we’ll have to consult with Cathy and Diane to figure out our strategy.”

  * * *

  It was just after midnight. Bruno and Boots climbed up the drainpipe, and Cathy and Diane helped them into the room.

  “Hi,” Cathy greeted them. “Glad you could make it. We’re really excited about joining The Committee.”

  “Sorry,” said Boots, “The Committee doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “You’ve stopped The Committee?” asked Diane in surprise.

  “Sort of,” said Bruno. “Actually, we’ve just changed the name. You can’t join The Committee, but you’ve already joined The Coalition.”

  “We have?” asked Diane.

  “Sure,” said Bruno. “You have to join. Without you it’s not a coalition — it’s a committee. Anyway, we came over here to have a conference. How do we get Wizzle and Peabody to the altar?”

  “We’ve been talking about that,” said Cathy, “and we’ve drawn a blank. Wouldn’t life be simpler if we could just give them a love potion?”

  “Forget it,” laughed Boots. “Even Elmer Drimsdale couldn’t concoct a potion like that!”

  “What a drag,” said Cathy. “Well, then, we’ll just have to convince Peabody that there is no one more handsome, more debonair, more devastating or more sexy than Wizzle.”

  “Right,” grinned Bruno. “And we’ll convince Wizzle that there’s no one more beautiful, more graceful, more charming or more desirable than Peabody.” He made a face. “How are we going to do that?”

  “Little gifts, big hints,” said Cathy. “Just remember to be subtle. I’m sure you two Romeos will be able to figure it out. After all, you’re The Committee.”

  “The Coalition,” Bruno corrected.

  “Yeah, well anyway, Peabody was out this afternoon and that gave us a chance to raid the kitchen, so we’ve got some food. Care for a sandwich? We’ve got lots of leftover turkey.”

  They were in high spirits and discussed the wedding plans as they ate.

  “I assure you that Peabody will be the joy of Wizzle’s life in no time at all,” promised Bruno as he and Boots climbed out over the sill. “Same here,” said Cathy.

  The two boys climbed down the drainpipe and jumped to the ground.

  “Freeze!” came an earsplitting voice. Miss Peabody bounded onto the scene and was upon them in seconds. She grabbed them by their shirt collars and lifted them from the ground. “Aha! The troublemakers from Macdonald Hall! I’m going to make you sorry you showed up here tonight!” She turned her face upward. “Burton, Grant, is that you?”

  “Yes,” came Diane’s small voice from above.

  “No,” Cathy called down. “We don’t know who those two guys are. You woke us up, Miss Peabody.”

  “Balloonjuice!” bellowed the Assistant Headmistress. “Get your track shoes on and get down here! The four of you are going to run laps!”

  “Laps?” echoed Bruno.

  “Yes, laps. We’re going to show you pampered babies from Macdonald Hall how discipline is enforced.”

  “But it’s dark,” protested Bruno.

  “Don’t worry. Burton knows the track.” She looked up at the window. “Come on! Move it!”

  Cathy and Diane disappeared for a while and then came out the front door to stand beside Bruno and Boots.

  “Miss Peabody,” said Cathy plaintively, “we ran laps all afternoon.”

  “And you’re going to run laps all night! All right, you four, move!”

  * * *

  Mr. Sturgeon and his wife were driving home from the city late that night after spending the evening with Mrs. Sturgeon’s sister and her family.

  “Mildred,” grumbled the Headmaster, “the next time we go visiting your relatives remind me to take my earplugs. Your brother-in-law didn’t shut up from the time we arrived until we left. Who cares about the ins and outs of the plumbing business?”

  “I thought you did, dear. You listened raptly.”

  “I was asleep, Mildred. And the children and grandchildren are worse. You know I cannot bear being called Uncle Willie.”

  As he approached the driveway to Macdonald Hall, his headlights illuminated a number of figures on Miss Scrimmage’s athletic field.

  “William, what on earth — It’s one o’clock in the morning!” Mrs. Sturgeon squinted in the darkness. “Four children — and two of them are boys!”

  Mr. Sturgeon hit the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. He leapt out and hit the road running. Sailing over the orchard fence as if it did not exist, he ran onto the athletic field.

  “Walton — O’Neal — come here this instant!”

  Bruno and Boots ran over, panting. Miss Peabody stormed after them and they scrambled quickly to stand behind their headmaster.

  “Sturgeon, this is my campus and I’m the boss here! No one interferes with my punishments!”

  “Indeed,” said Mr. Sturgeon icily. “These two are my students and no one punishes them but me.”

  “They were on my territory after hours,” said Miss Peabody. “I’m seeing to it that they won’t return. Come on, you two. Back to the track.”

  “Do not move a muscle,” commanded Mr. Sturgeon.

  “Miss Peabody, can we stop running now?” came Cathy’s voice.

  “No! Keep going!”

  “Come along, boys,” said Mr. Sturgeon coldly. “We’re leaving.”

  Miss Peabody moved to block their way.

  “Young woman, kindly remove yourself from my path.”

  “You have no right to come over and undermine my authority on my own ground!” said Miss Peabody angrily.

  Mr. Sturgeon’s face flamed red. “If you do not move out of my way, you will regret it, madam.”

  Miss Peabody grinned. “What are you going to do — sic your sissy Board of Directors on me?”

  Mr. Sturgeon glared at her menacingly. “Suffice it to say, madam, that you are not the only person in this world who knows jiu-jitsu. Now stand aside.” Mr. Sturgeon led the boys around her and headed for the highway.

  * * *

  “Gee, Mr. Sturgeon,” said Bruno admiringly, “I didn’t know you knew jiu-jitsu.”

  “Shhh, Walton. Keep walking.”

  When they reached the highway, the Headmaster turned to the boys. “Be in my office tomorrow morning at eight. We’ll have this out once and for all.”

  Chapter 14

  A Man in Love

  “I suppose it will come as a great surprise to you,” said Mr. Sturgeon sarcastically the next morning, “that Miss Scrimmage’s school is off limits to the boys of Macdonald Hall.”

  Bruno and Boots dropped their heads a little to avoid the Headmaster’s gaze.

  “Boys, I want to know right now if that nocturnal escapade had anything to do with the late
Committee.”

  Bruno brightened. “Oh, no, sir. It had nothing to do with The Committee. We disbanded that when you told us to.” He did not feel it prudent to mention The Coalition at this time.

  “Well,” said Mr. Sturgeon, “thank goodness for small mercies. I should think that you boys would know better than to go over there in view of the furor raised when Miss Scrimmage’s student body paid us an unscheduled visit so recently. No doubt Miss Burton and Miss Grant figured in this in some way.”

  Bruno and Boots studied the floor.

  Mr. Sturgeon stood up and began pacing. “You two have been called into this office a number of times in the very recent past. If you are called here again, I shall have no choice but to suspend both of you. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” It was barely a whisper.

  “Fine. In addition, you are confined to your room after dinner until further notice. You are dismissed.”

  Bruno and Boots opened the door.

  “And stay away from Scrimmage’s!” shouted Mr. Sturgeon. It was out of his mouth before he could modulate his tone.

  “Ah, Walton, O’Neal,” said Mr. Wizzle. “I heard about your deplorable activities last night. Ten demerits each.” He was shaking his head as he took out his notebook. “Walton — eighty demerits! Five hundred and fifty lines! O’Neal — three hundred lines from you. Now run along.”

  Mrs. Davis walked into the Headmaster’s office. “Mr. Sturgeon, I’ve never heard you shout like that. What on earth could have happened?”

  “I’m not sure exactly,” said the Headmaster, still agitated, “but in extricating those two from their difficulties, I may have threatened a lady with physical violence!”

  * * *

  “Bruno,” said Mark Davies in disgust, “if you get one more demerit, we in the Lines Department are going to resign from The Coalition, The Committee and everything else!”

  Bruno grinned apologetically. “Okay, you guys, the first meeting of the Macdonald Hall Chapter of The Coalition Department Heads will come to order.”

  Boots moaned. “Not so loud, Bruno! If The Fish gets wind of The Coalition, we’re cooked!”

  “Don’t worry,” said Bruno. “I would like to explain the one and only aim of The Coalition — Operation Matrimony. We’re going to take Wizzle and marry him off.”

  “Don’t be silly,” mumbled Wilbur, his mouth full of pizza. “Who’d be stupid enough or desperate enough to marry Wizzle?”

  “Miss Gloria Peabody,” announced Bruno grandly.

  Chris Talbot choked.

  Elmer Drimsdale looked perplexed. “I don’t understand the logic. If they marry, how is it going to help us? They’ll still be here, presenting a united front.”

  “Not quite,” said Bruno. “If they’re in love, then they’re going to be paying all their attention to each other. That means they’ll have less time to cook up miserable things for us. Then, of course, they’re bound to take a long honeymoon. And if we really play it right, they’ll go off together to start their own school. Larry told me he’s heard Wizzle say that Macdonald Hall is only a jumping-off point in his career. With Peabody at his side, maybe it’ll give him the confidence to take that big step. Then we’ll be rid of both of them. Great plan, eh, guys?”

  There was a stunned silence.

  “Bruno,” said Wilbur, “I’ve always suspected it, but now I’m sure — you’re crazy!”

  “Well,” grinned Bruno, “if you’re not interested, Hacken, we can get someone else to help.”

  “I’ll help,” muttered Wilbur.

  “Bruno,” said Larry, “there are some things you can do and some things you can’t. You just can’t control how people are going to feel about each other.”

  “Sure we can —” began Bruno.

  “Yeah,” interrupted Boots sarcastically. “We’re The Committee.”

  “The Coalition,” corrected Bruno. “Now listen carefully. Here’s what we’re going to do …”

  * * *

  Mr. Wizzle was in his office preparing a memo to all staff on scheduling more psychological testing when Larry Wilson’s voice wafted in through the half-open door.

  “Boy, Bruno, I wish I was at Scrimmage’s! I could just sit and look at her all day!”

  Mr. Wizzle looked up from his memo.

  “I know what you mean,” came Bruno’s voice. “Miss Peabody sure is gorgeous. I wish I was Mr. Wizzle.”

  Larry sighed. “Yeah, she’s sweet on him all right. And he doesn’t even seem to know it.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet he knows it,” said Bruno. “He’s just playing it cool.”

  Larry sighed again. “Gee, she’s beautiful!”

  Inside the office, Mr. Wizzle stared perplexedly at the crack in the doorway. Miss Peabody was sweet on him?

  * * *

  Miss Peabody was walking down the hall of the dormitory when Diane Grant’s voice reached her from around a corner. “… and with those glasses, he’s just so cute!”

  “Oh, I know!” squealed the voice of Cathy Burton. “I dreamed about Mr. Wizzle last night. I was held prisoner in this castle and he programmed the computer to slay the dragon and get me out. He’s adorable!”

  “But he’s too old for any of us,” lamented Diane. “Besides, anybody can see he’s crazy about Miss Peabody.”

  “And she’s playing hard-to-get,” added Cathy.

  “Boy, if it were me, I’d grab him in a minute. He’s so —”

  “All right, you!” roared Miss Peabody, swooping down on them from around the corner. “Why aren’t you doing your homework?”

  “Oh, we finished it, Miss Peabody,” said Cathy. “We were just doing a little — wishful thinking.”

  “Well, don’t,” snapped Miss Peabody. “Get back to your room or I’ll have you both running the track.”

  The girls scurried off.

  Miss Peabody stood for a moment, frowning. Wizzle was crazy about her? Since when?

  * * *

  Alex Flynn, athletic director of Macdonald Hall, was rummaging through the equipment room. He had decided to start the senior phys. ed. classes on a program of Manchurian toe-ball, but he couldn’t find any wickets. He was just making a mental note to order some when he came across a gigantic brown bag behind a stack of mats. It was tied shut with twine, and on it was scribbled Wizzle.

  Flynn snorted in annoyance. If this belonged to Wizzle, what was it doing cluttering up his equipment room? He picked the heavy package up, left the gymnasium and began walking across the campus to Mr. Wizzle’s cottage.

  There was no answer to his knock. He turned and looked back towards the Faculty Building. There were still lights on. Wizzle was probably working late on his latest software innovation. Flynn tried the door. It was unlocked. He deposited the bulky package on the bottom shelf of Wizzle’s hall table and left the house, shutting the door behind him.

  As he walked back across the campus towards the gym, all thoughts of Mr. Wizzle’s parcel left his mind. Now, where was he going to get those wickets …

  * * *

  It was almost lights-out when Bruno and Boots answered the knocking at their door. Chris and Elmer stood there, chalk-white and trembling.

  “Hi, Chris, Elm. What’s the matter?”

  “Bruno!” gasped Chris. “The balloon! It’s —”

  “Oh, the balloon,” Bruno interrupted. “That was strictly a Committee thing. The Coalition doesn’t need it. I’m sorry about all your hard work.”

  “Bruno, listen to me!” Chris insisted. “The balloon is gone! It’s disappeared!”

  “What do you mean, ‘disappeared?’” squeaked Boots. “Where is it?”

  “We don’t know!”

  “It was in the equipment room of the gym,” explained Elmer, “behind some mats. It was there yesterday, but today it’s gone.”

  “Was it finished?” asked Bruno.

  “Almost,” said Elmer. “Chris finished the painting and tonight we were going to connect the remote control to the
inflater.”

  Boots brightened. “What a relief! Then it won’t go off!”

  “Not exactly,” said Elmer. “If roughly handled, it could accidentally inflate.”

  “You mean,” finished Boots, all the colour draining from his face, “that any minute now, from we-don’t-know-where, a ten-metre Wizzle balloon might suddenly whoosh into being in the middle of the campus?”

  Bruno grinned. “Boy, would that ever be funny!”

  “No it wouldn’t,” said Boots positively. “We’re not allowed to bug Mr. Wizzle, and if a ten-metre balloon isn’t bugging him, I don’t know what is! Bruno, The Fish is going to kill us!”

  “Don’t worry,” soothed Bruno. “It hasn’t happened yet. And it’ll probably never happen.”

  “But where is it?” moaned Chris. “It didn’t just walk away! What could have happened to it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Bruno. “It’s a Committee balloon, and as members of The Coalition, we don’t have to worry about it. We’re just going to ignore it and continue convincing Wizzle that Peabody’s gorgeous. So why don’t you guys go to your rooms and get a good night’s sleep. It’s after lights-out.”

  Unconvinced, Chris and Elmer straggled off.

  “Bruno,” said Boots, “you know The Fish has threatened us with suspension. If that balloon floats up from somewhere, we’ll be blamed for it. We’ll be lucky if we’re just suspended. Expelled would be more like it. Probably shot, too. Bruno, I love being at Macdonald Hall. Macdonald Hall with Wizzle is better than no Macdonald Hall at all. And also, my folks would kill me.”

  “Really, Boots,” said Bruno earnestly, “there’s nothing to worry about. Pretty soon Wizzle and Peabody will be married and a thing of the past. And then it won’t matter if the balloon turns up because no one will be offended. The Fish will just laugh it off when we explain that it was all built way back before he ordered us to disband The Committee. So let’s just go to bed and forget about the whole thing.”

  Bruno and Boots got into their pyjamas and climbed into bed. Boots glanced over at the remote control button for Elmer’s low-frequency sound generator. “At least we haven’t been giving Wizzle any earthquakes recently.”