Fantastic Schools, Volume 3

by Emily Martha Sorensen

  “Yucky!” shouted Bounder.

  Clumsy grabbed his arm. “Shhh! Not so loud.”

  “Hello, my friends!”

  The man on the ladder was another of the club members. Clumsy was eager to know what he was doing.

  “What does it look like? I’m scaling this wall.”

  “I can see that. But why?”

  “To get over it.”

  “That’s evident. But why do you want to do that?”

  Yucky came back down.

  “I can’t hold a conversation while I’m on a ladder,” he said.

  Then in a loud whisper he explained that one of his favourite rugs had flown out of his house, and he had followed it here.

  “I went back to get a ladder, and so here I am.”

  “Our rugs also went missing.”

  “I wonder if the same thing is happening everywhere?”

  “Maybe it is. I don’t know.”

  “I bet it is,” said Yucky.

  Clumsy scratched his head. “If we climb over this wall together, that’s one of the things we might find out.”

  Bounder nodded. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Supernatural things often are.”

  They considered the wisdom of this statement for a few moments, and then Clumsy frowned at Yucky.

  “There’s something different about you tonight.”

  “I thought so, too,” said Bounder.

  Yucky smiled and patted his head. “I’m no longer bald. I didn’t want the moonlight shining on my smooth scalp to give away my position to anyone inside the building.”

  “Ah, you are wearing a wig! Where did you get it?”

  “It was my grandma’s.”

  This raised new questions, but Clumsy decided not to ask. They had to climb the wall as quickly as possible. The longer they stood around here talking, the more likely they were to be noticed. One at a time, they went up the ladder and dropped over the wall. It was a long drop, but the ground on the other side was extremely soft.

  Yucky frowned and asked, “How will we get out?”

  “I didn’t think of that,” admitted Clumsy. “We should have pulled the ladder after us. Too late now…”

  “This grass is so luxurious and springy,” said Bounder.

  “Yes, it’s very lush indeed.”

  They walked over the spongy ground towards the impressive building that stood at the centre of the enclosure. It was a large mansion with more windows and chimneys than they could count. Every time Clumsy tried to count them, he lost count and had to start again from the beginning. There were gables and gargoyles and several entrances, and the whole thing was quite eerie in the moonlight. Most of the windows were pitch dark, but on the ground floor, a series of windows were dimly lit. The friends crouched very low as they approached them.

  “Take a peep inside,” Clumsy urged Bounder.

  Bounder said, “I think Yucky should go first,” and Yucky sighed and raised his head over the windowsill.

  “It’s very old fashioned,” reported Yucky.

  Bounder was next to take a look. “There’s a man in there but I can’t hear what he’s saying,” he said.

  Clumsy took a turn, too.

  Through the thick pane of glass, he saw a long chamber illuminated by flickering lamps. There were rugs in neat rows on the floor, rugs of many kinds and in a variety of conditions, and at the far end of the chamber on a raised platform stood a tall man.

  He noted that this tall man, who was also very thin, held a stick in his hand and he was waving it around like a wand and talking at the same time.

  “He seems to be teaching them a lesson,” he whispered.

  And this was true. The tall thin man was obviously a lecturer but what sane person will lecture a room full of rugs? That makes no sense at all. Was he talking for his own benefit? If so, then why?

  “Did you recognise my rug?” asked Bounder.

  “Or mine?” added Yucky.

  “I don’t know what your rugs look like, but I think I saw my own near the middle of the front row.”

  “We ought to go inside and demand them back.”

  Clumsy was dubious.

  “I am an investigator of the supernatural,” he said, “and I am getting a creepy feeling from this. That tall thin man isn’t someone we can reason with. I don’t know why I think he is so dangerous, it’s just a hunch, but I always rely on my intuition and—”

  “Your intuition is mostly wrong,” said Bounder.

  “That’s the blunt truth,” confirmed Yucky.

  “Well, what shall we do?”

  Yucky said, “I don’t believe that tall thin man is such a threat, thus I suggest we try to get inside anyway but quietly and sneakily. Maybe one of the side doors is unlocked, or possibly we can climb onto the roof and from there slide down a chimney.”

  Bounder looked up at the roof but Clumsy gripped his arm. “People get stuck in chimneys,” he warned.

  “Let’s find an open door then.”

  They circled the building, testing the doors one by one. All were shut and locked. At last, they came to a door at the rear of the mansion with a cat flap set into it. Yucky nodded.

  “People get stuck in cat flaps too,” said Clumsy.

  “Let’s try it anyway.”

  Bounder went first, Yucky close behind, then Clumsy got down on his hands and knees and pushed himself through the narrow gap. Halfway to the other side he became wedged fast.

  “Pull me through,” he said.

  Yucky and Bounder tugged at his head.

  “Not by the ears please!”

  “Why not? They are just like handles.”

  “They might come off.”

  “Relax your muscles,” advised Bounder, and after ten minutes of work, Clumsy passed right through the cat flap with a loud plopping sound. The three friends froze and strained their ears. Clumsy’s ears were sore, and he groaned inwardly as he struggled to listen for sounds inside the building. But no one came to apprehend them.

  “Which way to the hall of rugs?” asked Yucky as he dusted himself down and gazed about. Clumsy pointed to a low arch and so they passed beneath it through a series of rooms of various sizes and shapes. It was almost impossible to see anything.

  But most of the rooms were empty, and there was no furniture to bump into on this journey. This made the building seem even more mysterious. It wasn’t a home for anyone, that much was evident, but in that case, what was it? At least, it was easy enough to move silently through the chambers because of the soft carpets underfoot.

  In one room, the moon shone through a window directly onto the floor, and Clumsy pointed at the shape it revealed.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Look at the pattern! It’s a large crimson bird.”

  Bounder and Yucky understood.

  “Yes, the same pattern that was on our rugs when they were escaping through the air. What does it mean?”

  Clumsy didn’t know, but he noted that the carpet here was roughly the same size as his own missing rug.

  It was not feasible to check if the other carpets had the same pattern, but it seemed probable that they did. They pushed on through the gloom. At last, they came to the bottom of a spiral stairway. There was no other way to go. Bounder turned to retreat.

  “Where are you going?” asked Clumsy.

  “This is clearly the wrong way. Let’s go back to the beginning and try a different route,” he replied, and Yucky added, “We were foolish to trust your sense of direction,” but he didn’t say it in a nasty or exasperated way because Clumsy’s errors of judgment were something he was used to. But Clumsy began walking up the stairs.

  Bounder and Yucky watched him in disbelief.

  “Where are you going?”

  “This way is as good as any other,” he said.

  “No, it isn’t. The hall with the tall thin man and our rugs can be found on the ground floor, not up there.”

  “I have a positive feeling a
bout these stairs.”

  “Come back down!”

  But Clumsy kept going without heeding their objections. Soon enough, Bounder and Yucky were forced to follow him. The stairway twisted very sharply, and at the top, it deposited them in a narrow and long passage with a solid wall only on one side.

  On the other side was a very low railing and beyond the railing empty space. It was a kind of balcony that looked down into the large hall where the tall thin man was lecturing the rugs. He was still waving his wand, and his words could now be heard.

  Yucky said, “I think I know what this place is.”

  “Tell us,” said Bounder.

  “A school,” answered Yucky.

  “I don’t see many pupils,” said Bounder.

  “Yes, you do. Look down.”

  They all leaned over the railing. They felt a little dizzy as they did so but curiosity proved more powerful than vertigo. Now it was apparent the rugs were the pupils, and the tall thin man was the teacher. “He is giving them a lesson on flight,” whispered Clumsy.

  “How can they hear him?”

  “They are only rugs!”

  “Yes,” said Clumsy, “and rugs don’t have ears. I know that. But I told you something supernatural was afoot.”

  “Whose foot?” Bounder strained to catch his words.

  “Shhh!” hissed Yucky.

  “I’m sure that one there is my rug,” said Clumsy.

  “Poor little thing.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, it’s so worn and thin, clearly maltreated.”

  Clumsy grew indignant. “I’ll have you know that I bought it on one of the best holidays of my life.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “It was years ago, and I have regarded it with affection ever since; and it’s not my fault that wear and tear—”

  “Keep your voices down!” squealed Yucky.

  But it was too late.

  They had attracted the attention of the tall thin man.

  He stopped talking and looked up.

  And saw them leaning over the railings of the balcony.

  “Intruders!” he roared.

  Then he waved his wand in a different way and added, in a terrible voice, “Bring them to my office.”

  “Who is he talking to now?” cried Bounder.

  “I have no idea,” said Clumsy.

  But it didn’t take long before they found out.

  Flying rugs began converging on the three friends from all directions, from up the spiral stairs and along the passage from both directions, also from the open space beyond the railings.

  The friends ran one way, then turned and ran the other. But there was no escape. Finally, they stood still and hugged each other. A large carpet floated gently over the railings and quickly flung itself around them and rolled itself up tight with them inside.

  “I feel like a note stuck in a flute!” yelled Clumsy.

  The carpet rose and hovered.

  “Remove your elbow from my face,” said Yucky.

  “My apologies,” said Bounder.

  Struggling and pleading, the friends were carried off by the cylindrical flying carpet down the corridor, under archways, through rooms, then up flights of steps and along more corridors. There were so many bends and turns that Clumsy began to feel nauseous.

  At last, the carpet unrolled, and they tumbled over each other, coming to rest on the bare floor of a small room, their arms and legs all tangled together. The carpet retreated but remained hovering near the door of the room, preventing them from leaving.

  Clumsy, Bounder and Yucky stood and waited nervously.

  The tall thin man reached the entrance of the room, and with a rippling movement, the carpet floated aside to let him in. He strode past the friends and took a seat behind a wide desk.

  “This is my office, and I’m the headmaster,” he said.

  The three friends said nothing.

  “You have been very naughty indeed. This is a private school, and you are spies,” the tall thin man snarled.

  “Oh no, sir,” protested Clumsy.

  “We just followed our rugs here,” said Bounder.

  “When they flew away,” added Yucky.

  The headmaster arched his eyebrows and scrunched up his face into a grimace, and because his face was already sinister, this scrunching actually made it more pleasant, but not very much.

  “Flew!” he roared. “Your pathetic little rugs don’t know how to fly. I brought them here to teach them that.”

  “You are teaching our rugs to fly?” blurted Clumsy.

  “That’s what I said. What else!”

  “What else what, sir?”

  “What else do you expect me to teach rugs?”

  They pondered the matter. There didn’t seem to be too many subjects that a rug could ever want to learn.

  “But we saw them fly,” objected Clumsy.

  “No, you didn’t. I ordered them to be kidnapped. That’s what you saw, and there’s a big difference. I arranged for rugs that already know how to fly to enter your houses and slide under your rugs. Then they were able to lift your rugs on their shoulders.”

  “Do rugs have shoulders?” asked Bounder.

  “Metaphorically, I mean.”

  The headmaster finally let his eyebrows down and continued with his explanation. “My rugs abduct other rugs. That’s how this school acquires new pupils. The rugs in the upper grades find rugs that can’t fly and bring them here. I teach them to fly.”

  “But why do you do that?” pressed Yucky.

  “Because this is a school for flying carpets!” bellowed the headmaster as if the answer ought to be obvious.

  “Yes, I see,” said Clumsy.

  “And you teach them by yourself?” asked Bounder.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”

  “There are no other teachers in the school?”

  “Not one. I am alone.”

  “Then why is the school so large? One classroom would be enough, I should think. Don’t you agree?”

  The headmaster sighed. For the first time, his expression softened, and it was plain that, beneath his stern exterior, there were sentimental feelings that had been repressed for too long.

  “Yes, you are right. But I wasn’t always alone. Once, there were many teachers working for me. Every room in this mansion was occupied by a teacher, and a class of rugs at various levels of flying education. But time passed, and customs changed. People no longer wanted flying carpets, and no one sent their rugs to be educated here. Teachers began leaving to find jobs elsewhere, and eventually, it seemed the school would have to close. That was when I had the idea of kidnapping rugs against the will of their owners. This is the best school of its kind, and I couldn’t bear for carpets to be stuck on the ground all the time.”

  “There are other schools like this?” asked Clumsy.

  “Not now. That’s why this is the best one. But the world has moved on, and there’s no place for me anymore. I know this, but I resist the truth. I don’t want to retire just yet.”

  “I have a few more questions to ask, sir.”

  “Ask them quickly!”

  “How can anyone, no matter how clever, teach a rug to fly? Surely a rug can’t hear your lessons?”

  “Exactly! That’s why they need to be taught how to listen first. But in order to listen, they need to be taught how to think. Rugs are non-sentient objects when they arrive at my school, but when they graduate they have excellent minds. Think, listen, fly!”

  “That is the school motto, I suppose?”

  The headmaster nodded.

  “Rugs are quick learners,” he said.

  Clumsy asked, “What is the meaning of the crimson bird?”

  “You mean the pattern on the rugs?”

  “Yes, the big bird.”

  “It is merely the school symbol.”

  “Is it stitched onto all the carpets in your care?”

  “Whe
n they can fly, yes.”

  “Is it a phoenix?”

  “Not quite. That would be a fire hazard. It is the outline of a mythical bird from the fabled east that has grace and wisdom. When rugs graduate from my school, they should also have those qualities. That is my aim, and I am proud of my achievements.”

  “Are you also from the fabled east?”

  The headmaster refused to reply to this question, and Clumsy assumed the answer was yes. His next question was, “But have you been abducting rugs for a long time in this town?”

  “No, because I only arrived recently. I have kidnapped perhaps eighty or ninety new pupils since then.”

  “You are new to our town?” gasped Clumsy.

  “Yes I am. I notice that you have stopped calling me ‘sir’. I’ll make a note of that. It might go against you.”

  “Sorry, sir! But I am intrigued. If you are a new arrival, what was this building before you turned it into a school? Was it abandoned and empty? How did you claim it as your own?”

  “It has always been my school,” said the headmaster, but he declined to elaborate on this cryptic answer.

  Then he announced, “One final question!”

  Clumsy and Bounder exchanged glances. Bounder and Yucky did so, too. Then Clumsy and Yucky took their turn. They all wanted to ask the same question but were scared to do so because the answer might not be to their liking. Clumsy took the plunge.

  “What do you intend to do with us now, sir?”

  The headmaster rubbed his hands together. He stood up and grinned a horrid grin. “I don’t plan to kill you because I am not really a villain. But I can’t let you go because you would be sure to report me to the police. I will order one of the larger and more experienced carpets to carry you to a remote island in the middle of the ocean and leave you there. You will be castaways and unable to return.”

  “Don’t roll us up like you did earlier please! I had difficulty breathing inside that tube!” begged Clumsy.

  “Very well. You shall balance on top. But don’t blame me if you fall off. It will be a long journey.”

  And he waved his wand, and a very large carpet eased itself through the doorway and slid itself under their feet. They fell down onto it while it reversed direction and raced along corridors at a frightful speed. The headmaster hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye! Now they clung onto the fringe of the carpet as they stretched full length on it. The speed was really remarkable. Out through a broad open window, they rushed with barely any clearance on either side.