Brass Monkeys

by Terry Caszatt

  As Haggerty went around the group shaking hands, I could see the edginess leaving. He seemed to be coming back from some distant place. When he came to me, he actually patted me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry for that comment about trumpets,” he said. “I like trumpets, truly. And your name is?”

  I told him.

  A shadow of worry passed over his eyes. “I’m guessing by your firm expression you’ve come here for a very serious reason, have you not, Mr. Bumpus?”

  “I have.” I held up the book with the red cover. “I’ve come all the way from Grindsville, Michigan, to give McGinty his book.”

  Haggerty’s eyes widened in amazement and his old lips trembled.

  “So, our friend Webster escaped after all and he sent you back, did he?”

  I nodded. “He sent me back to find McGinty so he can save my friends and lead us all out of this place. And I’ve got Webster’s map to help us.”

  Haggerty bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, all according to plan. And you! What a splendid lad, risking everything to bring the book to McGinty. What adventures you must have had! It sounds like the makings of some good old-fashioned storytelling. Perhaps later we can sit down—”

  “Look,” Jack cut in, “we don’t have time for a lot of old-fashioned anything. What Bumpus is trying to say is this: the Big Lady is going to graduate his friends tomorrow, and we need McGinty and his weapon and I mean right now.”

  I glanced at Jack in surprise. For the first time he actually sounded as if he meant to help us.

  “Yes, of course you need him,” said Haggerty. He looked confused. “You obviously do need McGinty and his, ahem … weapon.”

  “So where is he?” I blurted out. “Please, just take us to him.”

  Haggerty nodded. “I will.” But strangely, he leaned over and kissed the top of the head of one his goats. “Old Tommy boy,” he muttered. “Good old lad.” Haggerty turned and started around the house. “Better come with me,” he said.

  Jack and I exchanged a puzzled look, but we all fell in behind him.

  We came around the back of the house, and for a moment I didn’t see it. Harriet must have, because she gasped and put her hand to her lips. Lilah suddenly put her arm around me.

  Finally my eyes focused and I saw it too.

  A fresh grave had been dug in the books, and a wooden marker had been placed at the head of it.

  57

  the young shall ride unicorns

  “He died just two days ago,” said Haggerty. He glanced around vaguely as if his own words mystified him.

  I was too stunned for words. I saw Jack brush his hand across his forehead as if clearing away cobwebs. There was a silence that seemed to go on for years.

  “What happened?” Harriet finally said in a small voice. “How did he die?”

  “You ask how?” Haggerty gestured off helplessly. “Oh my goodness, I suppose it was his heart. I went in to wake him that morning and he was … gone. I think he simply wore himself out from all the chasing around down here. And, of course, he was working day and night on his project and that didn’t help.”

  Harriet and Ray turned to me, waiting for me to say something, but words had deserted me. I felt like stone.

  “The project? You mean his secret weapon, right?” said Ray. He seemed to be the only one who could still focus.

  “Yes,” replied Haggerty. “He brought it here for me to work on and we spent hours on it. It’s done now, but quite useless I feel.”

  “Useless?” Jack’s voice sounded strangled.

  “How can that be?” added Lilah, who was getting all this from Teddy.

  “For heaven’s sakes, it must have some value,” insisted Teddy.

  Haggerty sighed. “You don’t understand, I’m afraid. But in a moment we’ll go inside. I’ll show you the ah … weapon, and then I think you’ll know what I mean.”

  Ray, who was standing closest to the grave, kept shaking his head in a strange way. “I guess I’m not very bright,” he began. “Well, I mean, I know I’m not sometimes, but there’s something kind of strange here.”

  “What’s that, my boy?” asked Haggerty.

  “The name on the grave,” said Ray. “How come it doesn’t say his name? I mean, his real name?”

  I peered closer at the wooden marker. “Yeah, you’re right, Raymondo.” I turned to Haggerty. “It says John Ashford.”

  “It does for a fact,” cried Teddy. “That’s odd.”

  “But not odd at all,” said Haggerty. “That’s his real name.” He stared at us. “Oh, my gadfreys, wait. I can see you haven’t been told.”

  “Told what?” asked Lilah.

  “McGinty’s real name,” replied Haggerty. “It’s always been John Ashford.”

  “And McGinty is some kind of honorary name, isn’t it?” said Harriet.

  “There you go! My goodness, young lady, you’re a bright one! McGinty is simply a title, a name that Adjana gives to a teacher who is a great leader, somebody who’s going to shake up the world and make things better for schools across the country. Adjana gave the title to John several years ago and, of course, he’s more than lived up to it.”

  I shook my head bleakly. “So what. He’s gone. Dead. Now there’s no one who can get my friends out of Ming’s school. There’s no one who can read the map in the book, and that means we’ve come all this way for nothing.” My voice had a weary, lifeless sound to it.

  “Less than nothing,” snapped Jack. Some of his old bitterness rang out again.

  Lilah said, “Look, maybe it’s not as bad as we think. Let’s be positive, for heaven’s sakes.”

  “Now there’s the right attitude!” cried Haggerty. “Of course things look a bit dim and discouraging at the moment.” He cleared his throat.

  “Very discouraging, actually, but there’s always a light on in some room, however hard it is to find that room. Perhaps we’ll all discover it together!”

  Jack made a disgusted raspberry sound. “So where’s the big-deal weapon? That’s got to be something of value.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps the weapon isn’t the place to turn for value,” said Haggerty. “But we have to face that hard fact sooner or later. So, on to the weapon.”

  We trudged wearily around to the front entrance. Well, I should say most of us trudged wearily. Lilah and Harriet seemed more upbeat for some reason.

  Just before we got to the front door, Harriet leaned over and whispered, “The mystery goes on, doesn’t it? I think fate is stepping in again.”

  “I don’t see it,” I replied gloomily.

  Haggerty opened the front door and led us inside. Normally I would have been interested in the interior of this ingenious little house. The walls were decorated with pictures taken from magazines. In the corner a small stone fireplace blazed cheerfully. An upright piano sat in the center of the room with instruments strewn around it. Even those last details didn’t stir my emotions. I was too devastated by the news of McGinty’s death and what it meant for all of us.

  I slumped down in a chair made entirely of church hymnals.

  “So where’s the weapon?” asked Jack. There was an icy sharpness in his voice.

  Haggerty nodded sadly. He walked to the piano, picked up a folder of paper, and handed it to Jack. “This is it, I’m afraid.”

  Jack stared at him with a dumbfounded look. “What, this bunch of paper?”

  Haggerty sighed and looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid so.”

  The others crowded around Jack. He shuffled through the paper. “I don’t get it. This is crazy. This is music of some kind.”

  “Yes, it’s the music that John thought might destroy Mingley’s empire,” said Haggerty. “He wrote part of it in the Shimmering Pines’ ruins and part of it in the Grotto, inspired by Adjana and her work there. It’s called—”

  “‘The Young Shall Ride Unicorns,’” I said suddenly. I sat up, feeling a tiny ping of interest.

  Haggerty glanced at me with a surprised l
ook. “You know it? It’s a wonderful piece that has all the magic of Adjana and the Grotto, and he took it and added a great deal more. And now, the piece has this mysterious Spanish flavor.”

  I got up quickly. “Spanish? Really?”

  Harriet’s eyes glowed. “Because they hate Spanish music, don’t they?”

  “Exactly, my dear,” replied Haggerty, his eyes widening in surprise. “Very clever of you to know that. They’re totally frightened by it.”

  Harriet turned to me. “Remember the trouble you got into when you played ‘Midnight Scholars’ and made it sound like a Spanish bullfight?”

  “Yeah, big-time trouble,” I said.

  Jack was staring grimly at us. “Somebody want to explain to me how you think Spanish music could hurt the Stormies? This is a new one to me.”

  “I know how silly it sounds,” Haggerty said quickly.

  “Silly?” put in Jack, dryly. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Improbable, ridiculous, I know,” added Haggerty. “And I was dubious myself. But apparently McGinty, who once taught with Mingley, saw her fall to the floor in some kind of screaming fit when she heard just a few notes of a flamenco guitar.”

  Lilah, who had been getting all this from Teddy’s frantic signing, cried out excitedly, “I know why!” She signed the rest to Jack.

  He frowned as he tried to follow her flashing hands. “You think it’s the atmosphere of … Wait! Slow down. You’re saying they can’t stand the passionate spiritual power of Spanish music?”

  Something about Lilah’s excitement seemed to temper Jack’s anger and he laughed. “No, c’mon, that’s too crazy for me.”

  “It’s not crazy,” I said. “Lilah is right on the money. Passionate and spiritual. That’s it. That’s exactly what Ming and her friends hate.”

  “It’s true,” added Harriet. “They hate anything that has light and hope.”

  “Lilah, you’ve been right about so many things,” I said, and I watched her dark, intelligent eyes while Teddy signed it. “I mean, you’ve understood why Ming and her Stormies play ‘Midnight Scholars’ all along, haven’t you?”

  “I know it destroys our fire,” she said. Then she signed something more to Jack and I could see his whole attitude change. There was no way he was going to laugh at her.

  “Lilah says it darkens and kills our spirit,” he said.

  “That was McGinty’s belief right from the beginning!” cried Haggerty. “He thought the only way to destroy Mingley’s power was to create music more powerful than that awful stuff they play every day.”

  “But even if he was right about this,” said Jack, “how on earth could you use music to defeat Ming? I mean, come on people, think about it.”

  “Well, exactly, there’s the practical aspect.” Haggerty frowned and scratched his chin. “And this is where we got stuck. McGinty—John, I mean wanted to make a tape of the music and try to sneak it inside Ming’s school and play it on her intercom.”

  Jack waved this off impatiently. “Forget it. Getting in and out of that joint is dangerous enough without hunting around for the main office and the intercom.”

  “Then we had the idea we might be able to pirate one of her music boxes,” Haggerty went on. “The kind Devos liked to drop, and put our music inside that.”

  “That wouldn’t work either,” said Ray. “I’ve fussed with the insides of those boxes, trying to get them to play ‘These Boots Are Made for Walking,’ but they’re rigged to play the same old stupid song.”

  That was when I got my bright idea. I guess you could say that out of all the wild things I had proposed since arriving in the underworld, this was the wildest. And just about the dumbest.

  “Why don’t we just go down to her school and play the music?” I said.

  58

  the oompah band practices

  For a moment they just stared at me.

  “Oh, my Aunt Petunia,” murmured Ray.

  Lilah got what I said from Teddy and she nodded. “What have we got to lose?”

  Harriet’s eyes flashed. “I agree. We can’t live up here forever. It’s do or die.”

  Haggerty clapped his hands with a vigorous pop. “By gadfreys, I have the score ready to go,” he said. “That’s why John came up here to begin with, so I could arrange the piece. And of course I’ve got all the instruments.”

  Jack shook his head at me in wonder. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He glanced over at Lilah, and again something happened—just a split-second something between them—and whatever it was, that did it.

  “Why not,” Jack said, grinning. “It fits right in with all the other crazy stuff.”

  At that, Haggerty gestured at the instruments strewn about. “Then pick your favorite,” he cried. “Let’s practice!”

  That’s how I spent my second night in the underworld. Last blink came very soon, but we went doggedly onward.

  At first we sounded terrible. I guess part of the reason had to do with our instrument selection. Jack was on piano and Lilah, who could play several instruments, settled on the cello. Harriet was on the clarinet and Teddy sawed away on the violin, while Haggerty played a big old tuba. Naturally Ray was on sax and I tooted away on the trumpet. As Jack put it, we sounded like the “worst oompah band” in the world. I said I thought we needed a director.

  That’s when Teddy suggested Lilah. Haggerty hemmed and hawed at this, and even Jack seemed doubtful.

  “Why the heck don’t you just give her a chance?” Ray finally yelled out.

  “I suppose we could do that,” said Haggerty, stiffly. “No need to yell.”

  Lilah picked up a pencil and smiled at us. “Right from the top,” she said. “And let’s pick up the tempo, especially in the lower brass.”

  Haggerty stiffened at that and said “Hmm,” in a grumbling way.

  Lilah lifted the pencil, then gave us the downbeat. Like magic, things smoothed out. I’m not saying we sounded great, but suddenly the music had power and we were certainly enthusiastic.

  “It sounds wonderful,” cried Haggerty. “So vigorous and robust.”

  Jack cocked an eyebrow at me. “Vigorous and robust? Hey, just what we need to knock down those ten-ton doors on Mingley’s school.”

  We must have practiced for hours. Finally Haggerty called a break and suggested we get some sleep. That got no argument from anyone. Harriet and I curled up by the fireplace, and it seemed I had just shut my eyes when Jack began shaking me awake.

  “Mom, is it time for school?” I asked groggily.

  Jack laughed. “Yeah, in a way you could say it’s time. But I’m not Mom.”

  A few minutes later I joined the others at the breakfast table for hot cocoa and toast. “All courtesy of Mingley’s stacks of stolen goods,” cried Haggerty. “She and her Stormie fools steal from cafeterias across the country, then haul it down here. To survive, I’m forced now and then to … well, borrow things.”

  While we ate, I noticed a detail I had missed the night before. The door to the library was open, and on the back of it, hanging from a peg, was a white sport coat.

  “McGinty’s coat, right?” I asked Haggerty, pointing it out.

  “Yes, my boy, indeed it is. The badge of honor. And that makes me think. According to what I’ve been told about it, Adjana always puts the name of the next McGinty in the pocket of the coat. But since John died so far from the Grotto, I’m sure that won’t hold true now.”

  Harriet frowned thoughtfully. “But maybe we should check it anyway. It’s all very mysterious.”

  “Let’s look,” Lilah added. “I’m curious. And there’s something very strange about the coat. Don’t you think?”

  She gave Jack a look and he kind of nodded in an uneasy way. You could see that he liked her a lot and was struggling to put aside his attitude.

  “I guess you could say strange,” Jack began, but then this came out. “But a white sport coat! I can’t imagine any teacher wearing something like that
in the classroom. The kids would laugh him out of town.”

  “Well, holy crow,” piped up Ray, “why don’t we look in the pockets? I’m getting kind of curious myself.” He turned to Haggerty. “Is it all right to do that?”

  “Of course,” said Haggerty. “By all means, check the coat.”

  Ray went over to it and checked the outside pockets first. “Nuttin,” he said. He rummaged in the inside ones. “Big nuttin,” he added with a grin. “No, wait! Here’s something.” He pulled out a slip of paper. “Yahoo, got some writing on it, too. It says …” He looked over at Jack. “It’s got your name on it.”

  “What?” Jack looked dumbfounded. “Don’t joke around, Ray. Give me that. It probably says ‘Dry Clean Only’!” Ray handed the slip to him.

  Jack looked at it and grew pale. “There’s got to be a mistake here.” He stared at us. “Someone put this in the coat, right? Haggerty?”

  Haggerty looked indignant. “Not on your life! I would never presume to do such a thing! Entirely out of character.”

  Jack looked around at us. “It’s a mistake,” he said. “Has to be.”

  “I don’t think it is,” said Lilah.

  “Me neither.” Harriet gave Jack a level look. “I think it has to be you.”

  Jack blinked, then ran a hand through his blond hair. “It’s not me.

  And we don’t have time for this. We’ve got to get loaded and head for the school.”

  He turned abruptly and went outside. The rest of us quietly gathered up our instruments and started loading Haggerty’s sleigh. Finally, Jack came back to help us load a small piano, but he was silent and didn’t say a word to any of us. It took a few more minutes for the goats to be harnessed to the sleigh, and one in particular kept kicking and wouldn’t get into position.

  While this was going on, Jack turned to us abruptly and said, “I’m not the person for the job! I’m not leading anyone anywhere!” He was breathing hard. “So I’m not putting on any stupid coat. And that’s the end of that!”