Spin the Golden Light Bulb

by Jackie Yeager

  “I don’t know how we can convince Seraphina that we’re telling the truth,” says Jillian.

  “She might think we’re making it up because we don’t like him,” Mare replies.

  “I told you guys, we have to find proof,” says Ander.

  “But what?” asks Jax. “There aren’t any video cameras in the shed.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “I checked while we were working in there one day.”

  “Why?” asks Ander.

  “I was curious.”

  “This is so frustrating,” says Mare. “Why can’t we think of a way to get proof? I want to see him cry and run away when we tell him we know what he did to us.”

  “You know, I was just thinking,” says Jax.

  “What?” asks Jillian.

  “After we tell Seraphina and confront Gregor, what happens after that? Will he still be our preceptor?”

  “I guess that’s up to Seraphina,” says Jillian. “Or Master Freeman.”

  I’m listening to my friends talk and all the while my brain is pounding my skull. I know there’s an idea in there. I can feel it. Why can’t I figure this out?

  “It really stinks that there weren’t any video cameras in that shed,” says Ander. “Everything he did to our Ghost Gallery would have been recorded. That could have been the proof we needed.”

  Jillian sighs. “We’re supposed to be so smart. Here we are at Camp Piedmont and none of us can think of a way to prove he did it.”

  “What if we trick him into confessing?” suggests Ander. “We can say it was actually a good thing that someone smashed our Ghost Gallery. Then maybe he’ll admit it. You know, take credit for it.”

  Jillian raises an eyebrow. “He might even brag about it.”

  “I don’t know,” says Mare. “I don’t think he’ll fall for it.”

  The pressure in my head gets worse. Video cameras weren’t watching Gregor but someone had to see him. My head thumps. Recordings . . . Gregor bragging . . . Talking on the phone about recordings . . . Wait a second. That’s it. He was talking to someone about this on the phone! “Wait! I got it.”

  “Shhh,” says Jillian, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

  “What?” says Ander.

  “The Ancestor App!”

  “What about it?” asks Ander.

  “We can get proof from the Ancestor App!”

  Jax nods his head.

  “How?” asks Jillian.

  “You mean his phone recordings?” asks Mare.

  “KK, that’s it. The Ancestor App is even better than a Russian Spy!”

  “We have to get a recording of his phone conversation from earlier today,” says Jax. “That will be the proof we need.”

  “Grab the air screen,” says Mare.

  Ander is already out from under the blanket and pulling it away from the wall. He moves it towards us and bumps into the table. “I’m okay!”

  “Shh,” says Jillian.

  Ander mouths the words, “I’m sorry,” and motions for us to gather around the screen. He types in Gregor Axel, New York. Two Gregors appear on the screen. One is very old. The other is the Gregor we’re looking for. “There he is,” whispers Mare, “with that stupid smirk on his face.”

  “What do we type in?” I ask.

  “Try phone records,” says Jax.

  Ander types the words and the Ancestor App searches for the calls. A swirl covers the screen, but then fades. A list of dates and times appear in its place.

  “The one at the top is from twenty-three minutes ago,” I say.

  “Yeah, it looks like the creep is still awake, talking on his phone,” says Mare.

  “Let’s check that call,” says Adam.

  “No,” says Jax. “That’s not the call we heard.”

  “So?”

  “We can’t listen to all his calls. They’re private,” says Jillian.

  I move closer to the screen. “We need to find the call he made right before we picked up our scores.”

  “When was that?” asks Mare.

  “Our scores were ready at 6:07 p.m.,” says Jax. “Check the call before that.”

  “There’s a call at 5:35 p.m. Let’s try that one,” I say.

  Ander taps the air and a document appears on the screen. “This is it. It’s the whole conversation.”

  We squish together and read the whole thing.

  224-271-2805:

  Hello, this is Gregor.

  585-809-4532:

  How do you think they did? Do you think they were good?

  224-271-2805:

  Yes.

  585-809-4532:

  Do you think they made it? Were they able to pull it off?

  224-271-2805:

  I do think my team was able to pull it off.

  585-809-4532:

  Did they look professional? Did they look like winners?

  224-271-2805:

  Yes. They had a very well put together presentation today.

  585-809-4532:

  Do you think the judges will score them high for their play?

  224-271-2805:

  They will certainly score high for creativity.

  585-809-4532:

  Was it creative enough?

  224-271-2805:

  That’s not the portion I was concerned with.

  585-809-4532:

  Yes, I know. You made that clear right before you destroyed the first project.

  224-271-2805:

  It was the task solving portion.

  585-809-4532:

  The ghost boxes weren’t good enough.

  224-271-2805:

  I agree. Their original solution was amateur at best.

  585-809-4532:

  Well, I hope you’re happy you got rid of it.

  224-271-2805:

  Of course I’m happy I got rid of it. Their revised solution was a great improvement.

  585-809-4532:

  Well, I hope it worked. We have a whole town here thinking I’m the greatest principal the town has ever seen. Will you find out tonight if they make it to the Finals?

  224-271-2805:

  Yes, the scores should be ready soon. I hope the judges think their solution was as good as I think it was.

  585-809-4532:

  Call back when you find out.

  224-271-2805:

  You’ll be hearing from me soon.

  Jillian’s mouth hangs open. “That was Principal Bermuda!”

  “Are you kidding me?” says Ander. “He was in on it too!”

  “But why?” I ask. “That makes no sense.”

  “I don’t know, but we could look up more phone records and listen to all the things they said to each other,” says Ander.

  “Yeah,” says Mare. “Let’s do it.”

  “No,” I say. “We’re going to ask him ourselves and give him a chance to explain. Sometimes people do bad things for a good reason.”

  “I don’t care what reason he has,” says Mare. “He’s awful.”

  “KK, you have a good point,” says Ander.

  “No way,” says Mare. “We should just report him to Andora or Master Freeman or at least Seraphina.”

  We all stare at Mare. I feel like we’re back in Meeting Room Twelve trying to convince her to do a play.

  She stares back but then shakes her head. “Fine. I’ll give him a chance to explain, but just because we’re a team, and I want to get this crap over with.”

  I smile at Mare. On second thought, this doesn’t feel anything like that day in Meeting Room Twelve. This feels like my team has solved another task, just like the human pretzel.

  SPARKS

  It’s early in the morning when my
teammates and I leave for Piedmont Coliseum. We’ve barely reached the college square when Ander starts bouncing on his toes. “Does everyone know what they’re doing?”

  “Yes,” says Mare. “We’re going to walk into the practice room, and when we see Gregor, we’re going to jump on top of him, grab his legs, and twist them over his head.”

  “Mare!” Jillian scolds.

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot that’s not the real plan—just my plan.”

  “Mare,” I say.

  “I’m just kidding.”

  We march into the building and down the hallway. Ander’s talking even faster than we’re walking. “We’re going to go in there and act normal. When Seraphina tells us to rehearse, we’re going to run through our performance like we always do. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I say. “Then, when it comes time to play the videos on the Ancestor App, we’ll play the recording of Gregor’s phone conversation instead.”

  “That’s when I’m going to ask Gregor to come up for a closer look,” says Mare. “I’ll say, ‘Gregor, do you recognize that voice? Well, you should. It’s you and Principal Bermuda talking, isn’t it? Isn’t it?’ I’ll point my finger at him too.”

  “He won’t be able to deny it,” says Ander.

  “No,” says Jax. “It’s clearly his voice and his phone number.”

  “And then we watch the fireworks,” says Mare. “Seraphina will get all fired up at what he did and tell him that she’s reporting him or whatever. It’s going to be great.”

  “Well, let’s hurry up,” I say. “I want to get this over with.”

  The hallways are crowded with kids from other teams walking to their own rehearsals. My stomach flutters as we approach our practice room, 1026.

  Seraphina stands in the doorway. “Hi, guys, come on in. I have more information about the competition this weekend.”

  Our Circle Spinner, costumes, and other props are piled against the back wall. The other side of the room looks like a mini theater with a bunch of theater seats. Gregor is sitting in the front row. His spiky hair is flattened down. “Hello, everyone.”

  “Hi,” we say, but none of us looks him in the eye.

  “So,” says Seraphina, “We found out yesterday that thirty-two teams scored enough points to get into the Finals.”

  “That’s better than all fifty,” I say.

  Ander nods. “Not bad odds.”

  Seraphina laughs. “Not as bad as they could have been.”

  “What about Witch Girl’s team? Did Michigan make it?” Ander asks.

  Seraphina looks on her list. “Yes, they did. I don’t know their score but they’re in.”

  “Ick,” says Mare. “Figures.”

  “What about Pennsylvania?” I ask. “They’re the ones with the green cat suits. We saw them in the Prep Room.”

  “Yes, they’re in too, but don’t worry about the other teams. You’ll have your hands full practicing your own solution for the Finals and finishing up some details. We also know there will be an Opening Ceremony to kick off the competition. It will include a procession of each team. You’ll walk in, along with all the other teams, dressed in costumes or shirts that represent your state.”

  “Where we do we get the costumes?” asks Jillian.

  “We still need to work on that.”

  I bite my pinky nail. Then I remember I don’t bite my nails anymore.

  “Should we set up our Circle Spinner now?” asks Jax.

  “Sure,” says Seraphina. “Let’s get to work.”

  Ander looks at me, and we head to the back wall so we can put the Circle Spinner in place. My heart beats into my throat. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve never accused anyone of anything before—especially not a grown up.

  “Wait just one moment,” says Gregor. “Please come back over here. I’d like to say something first.” He motions for us to sit down. I’m not sure what’s going on, but we do as he asks and sit cross legged on the carpet. Gregor presses his hands together standing before us like a giant. He’s probably going to squash us like bugs. Right here on the floor. Splat. That’ll be the end of us and Seraphina will never know what he did.

  “Jax, Ander, Kia, Mare, Jillian, I would like to speak to you before we make final preparations for the National Finals.” He’s talking so slowly, my heart thumps with his every word. “It is important for me to tell you something.” He looks down at his shoes and then back at us. “I was the person who destroyed your Ghost Gallery.”

  Ander and I look at each other. Seraphina’s hand flies up to her mouth.

  “I apologize for my actions. I am not proud of what I’ve done.”

  Seraphina makes a strange face. “What are you talking about?”

  “It was me. I did it.”

  Seraphina’s eyes are wild. “It was you?” She covers her face with her hands, but then takes them away. “Why? Why would you do that to them?”

  “I am ashamed of my actions.”

  “Ashamed of your actions? You should be ashamed of your actions! What is wrong with you?”

  Gregor doesn’t look up. “I wanted them to win.”

  None of us says a word—not even Mare.

  “That’s unbelievable. Unbelievable! Winning is not the most important thing! These kids worked so hard for so many weeks. How could you wreck their whole project? What did you do, sneak out to the shed in the middle of the night and take a hammer to it?”

  Gregor cringes at her words.

  Mare stands up and glares at him. “We already figured it out, you know.”

  Seraphina turns around. “What? You knew?”

  “We figured it out last night,” says Ander. “With the Ancestor App. But we don’t know why you did it.”

  Gregor sits down next to Seraphina.

  “Well,” she says. “We’re waiting.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen exactly.”

  “So it was an accident?” Mare asks.

  Gregor runs his hands through his hair and walks over to the Circle Spinner. “Ander, could you please set up the Ancestor App? You should see this first hand.”

  Ander slowly pulls the Circle Spinner away from the wall. The rest of us shift in our places. He presses the air buttons on the screen. The swirl spins against the Golden Light Bulb, and then the screen turns into a blank canvas of blue.

  “Can you find the phone call I received around 9:00 p.m. on July 21st?”

  Ander pushes more buttons, his fingers bending and poking into the air.

  A link appears as the swirl disappears. Ander presses it and a transcript of the phone call pops onto the screen.

  “You should be able to find a video attached to this call.”

  “Where?” Ander asks. “Oh, there.” He selects a square box marked “Visual.”

  “I imagine this will be a video I took and the recording of the call I received from your principal.”

  “Their principal? Why were you talking to him?” Seraphina asks.

  “That’s who he was talking to when he admitted to destroying our Ghost Gallery. That’s how we knew,” Mare says with a smirk.

  “Principal Bermuda had been calling me throughout the summer, insisting that I provide him with progress reports of the team.”

  “Why?”

  “According to Principal Bermuda, our New York team is a very big deal in the town of Crimson Heights.”

  “Yes, of course,” she says. “That’s their home.”

  “He demanded to know how the team’s solution was coming along. He ordered me to take videos to show him their progress.”

  “What does that have to do with you destroying their Ghost Gallery?”

  Gregor takes a deep breath. “May I?” he asks Ander.

  Ander steps aside and Gregor pushes start on the video. Our Ghost Gall
ery appears as Gregor’s voice speaks:

  “Principal Bermuda, I present to you, my team’s Ghost Gallery.”

  Silence follows as the video shows our Ghost Gallery at all angles. It looks so good—and sturdy. I feel sick looking at it like that, knowing what happened to it.

  “This is the team’s main prop for their play about where people go after they die. It also acts as the movable object required in their task. It will start in the first position, turn three times and ultimately end up at the original position. You can see the gallery of choices, the coffin, the cremator oven, and the spaceship as well.” The video shows all sides of the Ghost Gallery as Gregor turns the crank.

  Principal Bermuda shouts on the recording. “That’s what these smarty pants kids have created?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There must be something more.”

  “Yes, there are costumes, a script, and an original language.”

  “You promised me these kids would invent something incredible. You promised me you’d get these kids to the Global Championships. This isn’t good enough to get them to the county fair competition. Crimson will be the joke of the country.”

  “Principal Bermuda, we don’t know what the other teams have prepared. It doesn’t matter what we think of their solution. It matters what the judges deem to be the best and most creative solutions.”

  “And you think this could be the best? Don’t be ridiculous! I will be the laughing stock of Crimson Heights. We have not one kid but five in this competition. We have been all over the news. This town, this whole state is expecting great things from them!”

  “Sir, this is their solution, not—”

  “You haven’t delivered what you promised. What kind of preceptor are you?”

  “What would you have me do? I cannot influence their solution in any way.”

  “Then you will find a way to make them rethink their solution.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will make them see this solution is a piece of junk.”

  “I don’t know if I can—”

  “You will do it. In fact, you will turn their solution into a piece of junk.”

  “Principal Bermuda, I can’t do anything to their solution.”

  “You can and you will. I want you to break it apart. Smash it into a million tiny pieces—force them to start over.”