The Amazing Wilmer Dooley

by Fowler DeWitt

  “And now he’s destroying that girl’s stuff!” screamed a tall boy in a lab coat, pointing to Harriet.

  “Actually, that’s my stuff,” croaked Wilmer.

  “He’s a fake,” said Claudius, pointing at Wilmer. “A vicious fraud! He didn’t find the cure to the Mumpley malady last year. I did!”

  “You did not!” protested Wilmer.

  “Who are you going to believe?” Claudius asked the kids in the room. “Me, or the guy who just smashed all my stuff for no reason?”

  “But he did cure the school,” whispered Harriet, her voice cracking. “Didn’t you, Wilmy?” Her eyes watered.

  “Everyone settle down,” pleaded Wilmer as the students neared. “Everything’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay with me,” snarled Lizzy.

  “And it’s not okay with me,” stormed Tizzy, thwacking a ruler against her leg.

  Wilmer took three steps closer to the door. “But I did find the cure. Knocking over their stuff was an accident. Claudius and Vlad are hatching some horrible plan. I know it!”

  The kids in the room stomped forward. These weren’t normal, everyday scientists. They were scientists thirsty for blood. Wilmer’s blood!

  A crackle announced that the loudspeakers were about to blare. The other students came to an abrupt halt. Wilmer pushed in his earplugs just before the distorted voice shot across the room. Harriet put hers in too. Claudius and Vlad tugged their ears.

  “Attention, dear, dear students,” rang the eerie, altered voice. “We hope everyone is enjoying their activities. Just remember to donate your birthday gifts to charity, and mice need love too!” And the announcement ended with a squeak.

  “I always donate gifts,” said Wilmer, “but I’m not sure about loving mice, to be honest.”

  No one moved. A few kids dribbled spit from their mouths. Everyone wore vacant expressions, almost as if their brains had been emptied and needed to be refilled. Everyone, that is, but Claudius, Vlad, Harriet, and Wilmer.

  “Tell me it isn’t true, Wilmy,” Harriet muttered. “Tell me you’re not a fraud.”

  “I’m not! It’s them!” Wilmer yelped, pointing to Claudius and Vlad. “They’re the troublemakers.”

  And I’m amazing! They’ll pay for doubting me!

  Wilmer blinked. Now why did he think that?

  Some kids were now blinking too, losing their empty looks. They appeared even angrier, if that was possible—their brows were furrowed, their foreheads crinkled with fury, their fingers curling into fists.

  Claudius screamed, “Down with the fake! Down with Dooley!”

  Wilmer, backing up, smashed into Dr. Dill, who was walking back into the room, still on his phone. “A serious case of Fanny Packs? Horrors! You need to grab . . . Oomph.” Dr. Dill dropped his phone when Wilmer collided with him.

  “Er, sorry,” said Wilmer.

  Dr. Dill leaned over to pick up his phone. Wilmer sidestepped him and dashed out the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dear Journal,

  Everyone’s supposed to attend a brief seminar about the Science Night Hike, but I’m not going. I can’t face anyone after this morning’s disaster. I wonder if I can just hide here in my hotel room the rest of the weekend, like an ostrich with its head in the sand.

  Ostrich: Struthio camelus

  But why should I? I’m no ostrich! Let them all hide their heads from me! How dare no one believe me! Let Claudius and Vlad blow up the hotel or carry out whatever scheme they’ve crafted. It would serve everyone right.

  What am I thinking?

  I’m thinking I’m better than everyone else.

  No, I’m not.

  Yes, I am.

  No, I’m not.

  Well, it doesn’t matter. They’ll all come groveling to me when they see I was right and they were wrong.

  No, they won’t.

  Yes, they will.

  What’s going on? My brain feels like it’s swirling with dust clouds. A scientist must be clearheaded. A doctor must be that way too! I’ll need to concentrate harder on staying alert.

  No, I won’t.

  Signing off,

  Wilmer Dooley

  At lunchtime Wilmer finally went downstairs, his stomach murmuring with hunger, but tingling with a mix of rage and self-pity.

  As he sat down in the cafeteria, he didn’t see Claudius or Vlad. Like usual, they were probably off somewhere lurking.

  Wilmer grabbed a slice of pizza and soaked up some of the grease with his napkin. He missed his creamed spinach—its healthy assortment of vitamins would make him feel better.

  Harriet sat next to Wilmer. She put her hands on his shoulder and leaned in, smiling. Her hair looked even more moppish than it had earlier. “After you left the workshop, I made some spectacu­lar crystals. How are you?”

  “Leave me alone,” grumbled Wilmer.

  Harriet looked down, her eyes watering. “Wilmy, I’m sorry I doubted you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Something came over me. I haven’t been myself. Can you forgive me?” She clutched his arm and gazed with pleading eyes. “Please?”

  Wilmer nodded. He knew exactly what she meant because he didn’t feel like himself either. It was as if a small kernel of outrage remained lodged in his brain.

  Ernie sat on the other side of Wilmer. He was quiet and seemed distracted. He picked up the pizza on his plate and gnawed at the crust.

  “How was your video game class?” Wilmer asked.

  Ernie didn’t respond.

  “Ernie? Hello?” repeated Wilmer.

  “What?” said Ernie, as if emerging from a fog.

  “I was asking about your class,” repeated Wilmer.

  “We did thumb exercises,” said Ernie, flexing his thumb up and down and up. “I’m ready for video games and hitchhiking.” For good measure, he added, “As if you care.” He seemed on edge too.

  “I do—” Care, is what Wilmer meant to say, but he was interrupted by a brief announcement from the loudspeaker. Wilmer’s brain momentarily clouded as he fumbled for his earplugs. He inserted them into his ears just before the speaker spoke. Harriet put her earplugs in too.

  “Attention, dear, dear students. Enjoy your meal, and always use an umbrella—a dry day is a happy day!” That was the entire announcement.

  Wilmer popped out his plugs. “I do like dry days. Rainy days make me angry!” He snarled, and then gasped at his unprovoked fury. He took a deep breath. “What do you think, Ernie? Ernie?”

  Ernie stared forward without blinking. So did most of the kids in the room.

  Wilmer looked at Harriet. Harriet looked back at him.

  “What are you looking at?” Wilmer grumbled.

  “What’s it to you?” she growled.

  Then, just as suddenly as it began, the group trance ended. Kids began to eat again. Wilmer took a deep breath. Where had that anger come from?

  “Sorry,” he said to Harriet, remembering his harsh words.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said, with meaning.

  “Look, there’s Wilmer Dooley,” muttered Lizzy, walking behind him. “Claudius Dill told me that Dooley takes credit for other people’s work because he’s so full of himself.”

  “That makes me so mad,” said Tizzy. “And Claudius Dill told me . . .”

  Wilmer didn’t hear the rest of their conversation as they receded into the crowd. But it wasn’t true! People are only full of themselves if they think they’re great and they aren’t. Wilmer was great, so he was just being honest about himself.

  How dare they doubt me!

  Wilmer shook his head, trying to clear the outrage from his brain. What was going on with him?

  Roxie sat down across the table. She wasn’t wearing her earphones and didn’t have her tape recorder with her.

  “Hey, Roxie,” said Wilmer. “Did you speak with Mr. Sneed or Elvira about the radio show?”

  “Yes, and I’m not giving my show, okay?” she said with a grunt. “Are you happy now? Just leave
me alone.”

  Wilmer bit his lip. Roxie’s harsh words were more hurtful than everyone else’s comments put together. “I don’t like this,” Wilmer whispered to Harriet. “I just wish I knew Claudius and Vlad’s plan. Do you think it has something to do with the loudspeakers? Have you noticed how everyone stares blankly after each announcement? And everyone seems angry. I’m angry! And it’s getting worse.”

  “That’s a dumb idea,” muttered Harriet. She gasped. “Did I just say that? Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a connection. I just don’t see how Claudius and Vlad could possibly—”

  “It’s Claudius and Vlad,” insisted Wilmer, with conviction. “They’re making these announce­ments.”

  And they’ll be sorry they messed with me!

  “But didn’t an announcement go off during the crystals workshop?” asked Harriet. “They were standing right near us.”

  “I’m always right!” screamed Wilmer. He gasped at the harsh sound of his voice. “I didn’t say they weren’t clever,” he continued, taking a deep breath. “Maybe they played a prerecorded message. Or they’re ventriloquists. That’s it! Vlad is the ventriloquist and Claudius is the dummy.” He snorted. “But they can’t fool me. Science is about persistence and forcing your opinions on others.”

  “But I thought science was about observation,” said Harriet. “You said—”

  “Forget what I said. Claudius and Vlad are guilty. They’d do anything to win this science fair, even if it means fogging everyone’s brains and blowing things up.”

  “You know best, Wilmy. As you say, Vlad and Claudius have been planning this for months. They’ve somehow rigged up an elaborate loudspeaker system and are doing something for some reason so they can win the science fair or maybe explode things.” She nodded her head. “That makes complete sense. The Amazing Wilmer Dooley has done it again.”

  The loudspeaker chose that precise time to squawk. This was Wilmer’s chance to be a hero! He’d show them all just how amazing he was. He jumped out of this seat. “Quick! Everyone cover your ears!” he shouted while putting in his earplugs.

  Kids looked at Wilmer like he had lost quite a few marbles and they were rolling all over the ground. Some shot him dirty looks. Many sneered and hissed at him.

  No one covered his or her ears.

  “Hurry!” Wilmer demanded. “The loudspeakers are making your brains fuzzy! Save yourselves!”

  No one tried to save anyone.

  “Attention, dear, dear students,” rang the garbled voice on the loudspeaker. “We hope you’ve enjoyed lunch. Please head to your afternoon activity. And hug a dolphin. And remember that a clean cuticle is a happy cuticle.” This was followed by a cackle—maybe a maniacal one, it was hard to tell with all the distortion—and then another loud chirp and then silence. Ernie and Roxie stared forward, drool dripping from their chins. Throughout the room many kids stared, some with their tongues hanging out.

  Dr. Dill walked past. He didn’t stare or drool. In fact, he acted completely normal. Was he behind whatever was going on? He was Claudius’s father. Evil could run in the family.

  Dr. Dill is guilty! He’s rotten to the core! I must stop him!

  Wilmer tightened his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He took a deep breath. He needed to get a grip. Dr. Dill couldn’t be like that. He was the World’s Greatest Doctor. Doctors swore to help others, not to hurt them. Wilmer needed to get his anger under control. “Dr. Dill!” shouted Wilmer, swallowing a growl. “Help! The loudspeakers are making kids space out and drool!”

  “Drool? Why, that’s horrible!” agreed Dr. Dill. “We should do something!” The music of Beethoven trickled from his pants pocket. He quickly dug out his phone and answered it. “This is Dr. Dill, I can’t talk and . . . What? An epidemic of Borscht Belt? Are you joking . . . ?” He hurried out without another word to Wilmer.

  Wilmer felt like jumping up and tackling the doctor. He needed his help.

  But then Roxie blinked, as did Ernie. Slowly, all the kids began to move again. Wilmer felt relieved, and his anger died down just a bit too.

  “Are you okay?” Wilmer asked Ernie.

  Ernie growled at Wilmer.

  Harriet leaned close to Wilmer and slipped her arm around his. “I still think you’re amazing.” Suddenly, she snarled. “And the thought of anyone thinking differently makes me so mad I just want to tear their hair out!”

  Ernie held up the menu of activities and jabbed his finger at a class on building miniature rocket ships. “Class is starting,” he snapped. “Are you coming?”

  Before Wilmer could respond, Harriet squeezed his hand and yanked him out of his chair. “Wilmer and I have more important things to do,” she said. “There’s a class on scientific love potions that looks perfect.”

  “Love potions?” asked Wilmer with a gulp.

  “Let’s go,” said Harriet, roughly pulling Wilmer behind her. “If we hurry we can get good seats.”

  “But—” began Wilmer.

  Harriet gnashed her teeth. “I said we’re going to love potions. Don’t mess with me!”

  “I’ll see you later, Ernie, okay?” shouted Wilmer. “Ernie?”

  Ernie stomped away while Harriet pushed Wilmer toward the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dear Journal,

  I’m glad I brought you to class. I need something to distract me. It’s pretty crowded here in the love potions workshop. The room is filled with three dozen girls and me. I guess girl scientists are much more interested in love than guy scientists. At least in middle school.

  You’d think everyone would be all lovey-dovey in a love potions class, but no. Harriet is snarling at me. Most of the girls are arguing with each other. Lizzy just stomped on my foot.

  The workshop started with a discussion about pheromones. Those are chemicals that animals secrete to attract mates. Male cockroaches are loaded with them. Rodents, too. Harriet seemed really interested and took a lot of notes, but I’m not sure why she would want to attract cockroaches or mice. We also learned about online mah-jongg.

  Oh yeah, Mrs. Padgett is teaching the class. Twice she’s told me to be quiet, but I haven’t said a word. I guess I’m writing too loudly.

  I should be spying on Claudius and Vlad and not wasting time in here. They could be up to anything, anywhere.

  But without proof of their evil plot, I’ll just be ignored again, especially since Claudius has been telling everyone I’m a fraud. People believe what they want to believe, I guess.

  I have to admit, arranging an elaborate loudspeaker system to cloud two hundred middle-school scientists’ brains seems like a lot of work just to win a science fair, even one as prestigious as this. But I know better than to put anything past Claudius. If he put half as much energy into science as he does into sneaking and plotting, he might actually do some good.

  Ow! Harriet is nudging me. No, she’s plucked a hair from my head. Maybe this next potion needs a human hair. I better start paying attention.

  Maybe I can learn a few things and slip a love potion to Roxie. My heart still belongs to her, even if she can barely stand me anymore. If only I had called her this summer like I promised! If only I wasn’t such a wimp!

  An amazing wimp, though.

  Ow, again. Harriet just pinched me. No, she grabbed a piece of dead skin and is putting it into a beaker. I’d better go.

  Signing off,

  Wilmer Dooley

  During dinner there was only one loudspeaker announcement, and Wilmer and Harriet popped in their earplugs as the horribly familiar wave of disturbing blankness spread over the room. Wilmer felt a surge of anger, but he managed to keep it from frothing out.

  The empty stares lasted longer this time. Ernie was completely vacant for one minute and twenty-two seconds, according to Wilmer’s estimate. Again, Claudius and Vlad were nowhere to be seen.

  Roxie wore her headphones and was fiddling with her tape recorder the whole time. Good. If the loudspeakers were rigged,
as Wilmer suspected, then her headphones had likely protected her.

  But soon the kids in the room began acting normal again. Well, somewhat normal. Wilmer heard arguments erupt from tables. A small fight broke out.

  “Dear children, are you excited for the night hike?” Elvira asked Wilmer and his friends. She had been walking around, cheerfully chatting with the students. Wilmer nearly fell off his seat in surprise; he hadn’t seen her behind him.

  “Sure,” said Wilmer, spinning around on his chair. “But have you noticed everyone’s angry?”

  She giggled. “Oh, I’m sure they’re just nervous about the fair. Competition can make people cranky. Studies show that stress can decrease serotonin levels, which increases crankiness. But I’m a hotel manager, not a scientist, so what do I know?”

  “But it seems to go beyond just crankiness. . . .” insisted Wilmer.

  “Nonsense!” Elvira interrupted, smiling.

  “But—” continued Wilmer.

  “She said it’s just competition crankiness!” growled Ernie.

  “But then why are you cranky?” asked Wilmer. “You don’t want to win.”

  “Because I can’t win? Is that what you think?” challenged Ernie.

  “No, it’s just that—”

  “Arguing kids are so cute!” Elvira giggled. “Well, good luck tonight. I hope a bear doesn’t eat you!” She turned to chat with the kids seated at the next table over.

  Ernie glared at Wilmer. Wilmer hoped the fresh air of the night hike might clear his best friend’s head. And his own head, too.

  “Darling students, please go to the front of the hotel for the night hike!” announced Elvira. “I love you all!”

  Everyone began to push and bang their way out of the cafeteria. Ernie grabbed a cupcake and crammed it into his jacket pocket. It was a glowing orange Marmalade ChocoBUZZZZ! cupcake—one of Wilmer’s dad’s most popular sellers. “In case I get hungry,” he muttered. “And you can’t have any!” he added with a snarl to Wilmer.

  They were split into small groups. Wilmer was teamed with the Mumpley kids: Ernie, Harriet, Roxie, Claudius, and Vlad. Good. The cousins couldn’t do much mischief under Wilmer’s observant eyes. He could keep an eye on Ernie, too; his friend seemed more irritable than anyone else.