The Lornea Island Detective Club
Gregg Dunnett
For Grubby
Forever ‘The Best Dog In The World’
Sadly missed, fondly remembered
2007 - 2019
One
I know I'm in trouble. I'm just not sure what for.
I'm sitting outside the school principal's office. Lined up against the wall on a hard plastic chair. Just opposite is the school secretary, sitting at her desk and glowering over her glasses which hang from a chain round her neck. It's like she's wondering if I'm the type that might make a run for it.
The thought has crossed my mind. Principal Sharpe has a super scary reputation. But there's nowhere to run. Besides, I’m curious to know why I'm here, and if I run away I won't find out. And anyway, I'm not the running away kind.
I'm serious about Principal Sharpe’s reputation though, everyone’s afraid of her, not just the students. Once I was doing biology with Miss Jones, and we had to label the parts of a praying mantis in our work books. And because I was sitting right at the front of the class, I heard Miss Jones muttering when she saw the picture how it reminded her of Principal Sharpe. I don’t think she meant the principal looked like one, she was talking about the way the females trap and eat the males after they’ve mated with them.
"Excuse me Mrs. Weston," I ask the secretary. "Will I have to wait here much longer?"
Mrs. Weston stops typing and frowns at me.
"The Principal will call you when she's ready."
"It's just I was in my math class you see, and math is very important..."
"When she's ready."
She gives me a death stare so I give up. Then when she looks back at her computer I glance around at the little alcove where she's sitting. She doesn't get a proper room, but she's tried to make it nice anyway. There's a big yucca plant on the floor next to her, and as I'm looking at that I notice a gecko sitting half way up the trunk. I assume it's a gecko, it's definitely not any of the local species of lizards we have here on the island, and it has really big toes. I lean in closer, only stopping when I hear Mrs. Weston stop typing and peer at me. I wonder where it came from. Maybe someone kept it as a pet and it escaped? Maybe it lived in the plant and no one’s ever noticed. Or maybe Mrs. Weston keeps it as a pet?
I’m suddenly interrupted by a loud commotion from the other end of the corridor. I look up to see Mr. Richmond marching another student towards me. He's pushing a girl, and he’s got one of her arms behind her back like he's the police and she's been arrested. He looks super mad. But actually, if anything, the girl looks madder.
"Sit down here and don't move." Mr. Richmond hisses at the girl when they get level with me. For a moment I think she's going to disobey him, but then she drops down into a chair, leaving her legs splayed at awkward angles. Unfortunately for me it's the chair right next to mine.
It's my fault too. There's only three chairs here, and if I'd been smarter I'd have sat in one of the end ones. Then, if someone had come along, they could take the other end chair and there'd still be another chair empty in the middle. But I'm not used to coming to see Principal Sharpe, so I didn't think of that.
I do my best not to look at the girl. I watch Mr. Richmond instead, as he talks to Mrs. Weston. I suppose he's telling her what the girl's done, but I don't hear what it is because he's talking in a very quiet voice. Then he turns to go. As he does so he notices me, and he gives a little surprised start. That's probably because I'm a really good student and he wasn't expecting to see me here. I get ready to explain to him that there's been some sort of mistake, but Mr. Richmond doesn't actually ask me anything, he just gives me a disappointed look and then he goes away. Then Mrs. Weston goes into Principal Sharpe’s office, presumably to tell her she's got another student to deal with as well as me. I take advantage by moving to the other end chair so that I don't have to sit right next to the girl. It's better too, as I'm closer to the yucca. Maybe I can identify what type of gecko it is.
"Do I smell or something?"
That’s the girl speaking.
"What?"
"I asked if I smell.”
"What? Oh. No. Well I don't know..." The truth is I didn't notice. But I’m not going to lean over and sniff her, that would be weird.
"I don't think so."
She stares at me for a long time, then flicks her head like I'm not worth her time. I feel quite relieved by this and go back to watching the gecko. I'm not sure what they eat. I suppose flies and stuff, but maybe they actually eat yucca plants. I'll have to look it up later on...
"Well this is bullshit. Isn't it?" The girl interrupts again.
I don't answer. I try to keep my mind on the gecko. I think I read somewhere that you can find them anywhere in the country now, because of Global Warming and also the way bananas are transported...
"So what you here for?" It's the girl again. I drag my mind back.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know how you don't know?"
I think about this for a second.
"No."
She glowers at this, then flicks her head again.
"Actually I don't know either. Except it's all fucking bullshit."
I turn to look at her. I get that she's mad about being dragged here, but I don’t think that swearing in front of the Principal's office will help her case, whatever it is. I consider her for a second, while she’s glaring at the opposite wall. She's a bit older than me, and dressed mostly in black. She’s wearing massive Dr. Martens boots, and I guess her dark hair must have been dyed blue, because it doesn’t look a very natural color to me. I don’t get the chance to see anymore because then she turns back to look at me. I look away, but for a long time I can feel her staring at me.
"You're that kid aren't you?"
I don't answer at first, but there's no point denying it.
"Yeah."
The girl doesn't say any more, but I sense her continuing to stare at me. I'm almost relieved when Mrs. Weston comes back out.
"Billy Wheatley? Principal Sharpe will see you now."
Two
Principal Sharpe is sat behind her desk, writing on some papers. She doesn't look up.
"Close the door." She’s still not looking at me, but I do what she says, then stand there, waiting.
"Sit."
There's one hard chair in front of her desk, and then a couple of comfy chairs by the window. I take a guess and sit on the hard one. Still she doesn't look at me, she just keeps writing. Finally she stops, then puts the pen down. Then she does look at me. Right at me. It’s hard but I do my best to look right back.
"I'm sure you know why you're here?" She asks, and one of her eyebrows goes up in a sharp arch. I feel a strong urge to nod, but the problem is, I really don't know. All I know is the teacher in my Math class had a message I had to see Principal Sharpe right away. It didn't say why.
"I have to say I am incredibly disappointed in you Billy. What were you thinking?"
I'm hoping these are all rhetorical questions, because I don't how to answer them. She’s still looking at me so I lower my gaze to the floor. But then there's silence, and I end up glancing up again. I think Miss Jones is wrong, she's not really like a praying mantis at all. She's more like a bird of prey, settling on its favorite post.
I guess they were rhetorical questions, because then she goes on.
"Billy. I'm aware you are one of the more unusual personality types in this school. I understand that." She stares right at me. "But that does not give you the right to take liberties."
I blink back at her n
ow, trying to work out what she's talking about. In the end I have to say something.
"Yes."
“And as I'm sure you're perfectly aware, there are robust and clear procedures to deal with any..." she hesitates, and for the first time she looks away, just for a moment.
"With any issues you feel you may have at the school." She’s back to staring.
There's a very long silence.
"OK." I say.
I'm beginning to wonder if I might get through the entire conversation without knowing what it's about. She shakes her head and continues.
"And ironically, in the circumstances, some might consider that what you have done constitutes bullying." She tips her head on one side and falls silent again.
But this time I have a sense of what this might be about. It was that word 'bullying', and the way she said it, stressing the 'ing' part. I open my mouth to reply, but then change my mind. I bite my lip instead.
This time both her eyebrows go up.
I bite my lip again.
"Oh," I say in the end.
"Oh indeed," Principal Sharpe says, then she shakes her head.
"I'm actually confused Billy. Did you somehow think this wouldn't come to my attention? Did you think I wouldn't find out? I'm genuinely curious. Because surely you can't have thought it was a good idea. I give you more credit than that."
Before going any further I want to be sure I've got it right – the reason she's angry I mean – so I interrupt her, just a little bit.
"Is this about the Kickstarter idea?"
Principal Sharpe sighs sharply. "Yes Billy. This is about your Kickstarter idea."
There's another silence.
"In which you publicly accuse several students of this school of bullying behavior, and identify this school as having a significant bullying problem."
I try to remember. It was quite a few weeks ago and I've forgotten exactly what I wrote. I haven’t forgotten the idea, because it was a good idea. And I wanted to act on it quickly, because sometimes when I have a good idea, a few days later I forget about it, and I didn't want that to happen this time. No, I've just forgotten the exact words I used.
"I'm probably not actually going to make it now. The invention I mean."
She opens her mouth to reply, but then closes it again. She looks a bit frustrated.
"That isn't the issue Billy. The issue is how you've named students on a public forum when they have no right to reply. And how you've attacked the reputation of this school." She lets out a slow sigh.
"I'm just grateful it was brought to my attention before one of the boys involved happened upon it. Or their parents."
I'd better explain. Especially since Principal Sharpe just called Kickstarter a forum, which it isn't. But then she's a grown-up, and lots of grown-ups don't really understand the internet very well. You see, Kickstarter is a website for making good ideas actually happen. You post your idea – like for a new invention, or a book or a film – and then if enough other people agree it's a good idea, they give you the money for the idea to get made. It's nothing like a forum. They're places where people talk online, though I don't think anyone uses them these days.
"I'm very disappointed in you Billy. You’ve a good reputation in this school. You're not a troublemaker, but to undermine the school's good name like this... To accuse your fellow pupils. It's quite outrageous."
Principal Sharpe has a computer on her desk and she angles the monitor so I can see it. To my surprise she's got my Kickstarter web page on the screen. I see the logo I made at the top, with the words 'BullyTracker' in red, next to a little picture of a radar tower with little circular radio waves coming out of it. I thought it explained the technology behind BullyTracker really well actually, you see the idea is to get all the bullies to wear this special tracker device – probably it would be an ankle bracelet that they can't take off – like the ones criminals wear, and then everyone who wants to keep out of the bullies' way can use their cell phones to see exactly where the bullies are in real time. You could even set up a little alert so people get a message when the bullies are getting too close. It's clever isn't it?
"While I appreciate the sentiment behind this idea, to name these boys is quite wrong. I just hope we can get it down before I get a call from their parents."
"I think they're probably bullies too."
"What?"
"Their parents. At least, they certainly look like bullies. Just grown up..."
"Billy! I've not called you in for a discussion on this matter!"
I hesitate for a second.
"Well why have you brought me in?"
Principal Sharpe looks away, like a small bird just flew past the window and she thought about catching it. Then she turns back to me.
"The issue is that none of these boys has any opportunity to refute your 'claims'. And the way you're misrepresenting the school is extremely damaging."
"But it's not misrepresenting the school if it's accura..."
"The reason I called you in Billy is because you're going to delete it. Right now."
She shouts loud enough that Mrs. Weston can probably hear her outside. And that girl too. It shuts me up though.
She slides the keyboard towards me now, but it's not a wireless one, and it gets stuck when the cable isn't long enough. She has to fight for a few moments, to free up more cable. Finally she gets it in front of me.
"I assume you can log in from here?"
I can feel my forehead crunching up in a frown. I told you how lots of adults don't understand the internet. I've got a copy of the whole thing at home anyway, so even if I delete it here it won't mean anything. I glance up at her, wondering if she really doesn’t know that. But she stares right back at me, her face white with veins sticking out of her neck. So I don't say anything. Instead I type in my log-in details. Then she keeps watching me, so I have to curl my arm up over the keyboard to stop her seeing my password from the keys I press. From the other side of the desk I hear her sigh.
"I'm not actually sure how to delete it," I tell her, while the page loads. "I haven't ever deleted a Kickstarter before."
"You're a smart boy Billy, I'm sure you'll find a way."
I don't answer, but turn my attention to the screen. Actually it's really easy. Moments later the screen says:
Are you sure? This Kickstarter has been backed!
I didn't know that. I look up to tell her.
"It's actually been 4.2% funded."
I expect her to be at least a little bit impressed by this, but she doesn't say anything.
"I set it for 50,000 dollars, which means it's actually raised 2100 dollars..."
"I'm well aware of how Kickstarter operates." Principal Sharpe replies. Even though she isn't, since she just called it a forum. Her voice is ice-cold, but I persevere. After all this is important.
"So it only needs another 48,900 dollars and it will get made. You know I really think this system could help lots of people..."
She sighs again. "Billy, have you done any work on it? On actually creating the device? Or the software that would operate it?"
"No. But that's why I put in the bit about the school. I thought maybe if someone at Google saw it they might want to build it. And they'd want a place to test it, once it was made. So they could do it here. At Newlea High School."
"And you didn't think to check that with me first?" she snaps. "The school principal?"
I don't answer at once. Maybe I should have checked.
"I didn't think you'd mind," I say. "You're always saying how you won't tolerate bullying and everything?"
Now Principal Sharpe sighs really loudly.
"Billy. It's my job to ensure that Lornea High School is a safe and welcoming environment for all students..."
"But it isn't. There are bullies everywhere. And no-one ever does anything about it."
She gasps at this, like this is somehow shocking.
"Billy... Billy that's... That's simply not the case.
There are procedures in place.... Rigorous procedures..." She composes herself before going on.
"Billy, if you feel you are being targeted by bullying you only need to speak to your class tutor, or to any teacher. Or you can come direct to me."
I don't answer. If that worked I wouldn't have needed to invent BullyTracker, would I?
"Are you experiencing problems with bullying? Billy?"
I take a long time to reply. I can't help but think about what Dad's always telling me. How we just have to ignore it. To keep our heads down and not make a big deal. How things will get better. Eventually. Even though they never do.
"No."
She looks exasperated and rubs her forehead. "Well. . . Well then I suggest we simply delete this and we'll put this episode behind us."
I look at the screen again. The funding amount is displayed in big green letters. $2100. I don't have a copy of that at home. It seems such a shame to lose it. But I don't have much choice.
I press delete.
Three
She gives me one after-school detention. Just one. Actually I get the sense it's a token punishment, like she has to do something, but knows that I didn't really do anything wrong. Or maybe she realizes that detentions won't have much effect on someone like me who actually likes doing school work. It must be hard for teachers when they have extraordinary students.
I don't get my usual bus home. Instead I sneak onto the Holport bus that goes down the west side of the island. I've been doing that for a while now, since Dad got his new job down there.
When we get into Holport I run down to the harbor. Dad works near the big square basin where all the fishing boats unload their catches. There's these little cranes where they hoist up the plastic pallets of fish and load them on trolleys, before a fork-lift pulls them into the warehouse. But all the boats are finished for the day, so there's no one about right now. As I look around my feet crunch through piles of dried fish scales that look like snow. Everything smells of fuel oil and fish gone bad in the sun.
The Lornea Island Detective Club Page 1
