Dr. Critchlore's School for Minions

by Sheila Grau

“You went over my head?”

  “It wasn’t hard, seeing how your head has been buried in the sand!” At that Professor Vodum stood up straight, looking Dr. Critchlore right in the eye.

  Dr. Critchlore broke eye contact first, grabbing his skull in both hands. “Arrrr!” he screamed. “My head feels like a thousand fire ants are scrambling inside it!”

  “Derek,” Professor Vodum said, putting a hand on Dr. Critchlore’s shoulder, “the stress of the job has gotten to you. Clearly, you need a break. Temporary. I’ll take over until you feel better.”

  Dr. Critchlore shrugged off Professor Vodum’s hand. “Over my dead body,” he said.

  He raced to the elevator. Professor Vodum ran after him, using the stairs. I followed.

  I caught up as they continued their argument in Miss Merrybench’s outer office. I hid just outside and heard Dr. Critchlore’s voice: “… for decades. Your side of the family will not take control. This is my school!”

  “It’s the family’s land. The family’s castle. The family’s school. It’s not fair that you act like it’s all yours. It’s not faaaiiiiir.”

  “It would have been sold off to pay taxes if I hadn’t taken over when I did.”

  “Nobody is saying that you haven’t done brilliant work, Derek,” Professor Vodum said. “But times change. You might have been the best Critchlore to run the school before, but now it’s time for some new blood.”

  “I’m not stepping down,” Dr. Critchlore said.

  “The board of directors won’t give you a choice. One more ‘incident’ and they will force you out. Dead or alive.”

  I peeked in and saw Dr. Critchlore, his face twisted with pain and anger. “I have to do something.” Then, suddenly, his facial expression changed to worry. “But I need to find out if Tina’s going to leave Greg for Stephen on All Our Lives.” He shook his head violently. “No! That’s ridiculous. I have to act!” He threw himself against the wall. “But Tina can’t leave Greg. He loves her! Stephen’s just after her money.”

  It was like watching an intense battle between two strong foes who happened to be in the same body. My chest felt tight, like a giant had just snatched me up a little too roughly. What was happening to Dr. Critchlore?

  “Derek, let’s sit down,” Professor Vodum said, his voice calming. “We’ll watch your show, I’ll make you some tea. We’ll discuss this—”

  The bell rang. I startled, realizing I was late for Dance class. I’d have to warn Dr. Critchlore later.

  Two lines of minions stretched down the ballroom, with girls on one side and boys facing them on the other. There were two girls without partners: Bianca, a pretty girl minion, and Frieda, the ogre. I smiled at Bianca and she smiled back. Finally something was going my way. I was about to head over to take my place opposite her when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw I wasn’t the only tardy.

  “Please, dude,” Eloni said. “She doesn’t try to kiss scrawny guys.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to dance with Frieda. She was twice my size and not very nice.

  “Please,” he begged, smiling his blindingly white, toothy, infectious smile.

  “Oh, fine,” I said.

  “I owe you, bud,” he said, and then he ran to stand opposite Bianca.

  Scanning the rest of the line, I saw Rufus with Janet. Even though I knew there was no way she’d ever like a guy like me, it felt like a little bit of my heart fell into my stomach, landing with a queasy splash.

  They made a cute couple too. He was tall and good-looking. She was Janet Desmarais. She was such a good dancer—if she danced the tango, it would only take one.

  Fiona and Frankie, Jud and Syke, Darthin and Grace—the whole room was filled with properly sized couples. The music started up and the boys approached the girls, bowing as we reached them.

  “Good evening, Frieda,” I said. “May I have this dance?” I had to say that. It was part of the protocol.

  She curtsied, which was painful to watch. “Charmed,” she said in her low, scratchy voice. She looked far less than charmed, but she knew the protocol as well as I did.

  “You look lovely this evening,” I said. Yes, I had to say that.

  “Okay, cut the crap, Runt-boy. Let’s just get this over with.”

  I took her catcher’s mitt hand in mine, and we turned to promenade. Once around the circle I faced her again. I was supposed to twirl her, but that wasn’t going to happen without a ladder, so she turned while I held my arm in the air. I noticed that the other dancers seemed to be enjoying themselves, dancing and talking and laughing. I bet it wasn’t even from protocol either.

  We began a bit where we stepped away from each other, then approached with a spin. As I neared her I asked, “How’d you do on the last junior henchman test?”

  On the next approach, she said, “I got third. It was pretty easy. Rufus won again. Jud was second.”

  Step back, step back, spin. Step forward, step forward, spin.

  “Congratulations,” I said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “This school won’t be around long enough for me to graduate as a junior henchman.”

  My heart fell even further hearing this, but I had to admit it was probably true. We wouldn’t be getting any more minion recruits. Customers were already going elsewhere for their minion supply.

  On the final approach I put my arm around her back and took her hand in mine in the classic dancing position. We twirled together, walked a few steps, twirled again, and walked. I don’t think she meant to crush my shoulder with her heavy hand, but I felt like I was dancing on a tilt.

  “Frieda,” I said, “what will you do if the school closes?”

  “I have an offer from the Pravus Academy. I guess I’ll go there.”

  “They offered you a spot?”

  “With a scholarship. They want me for their boulderball team.”

  We parted and went back to our lines. Then the whole thing started again with the approach. It was difficult, but we managed to have a conversation.

  “I told them over the summer that I wasn’t going to transfer,” she said during one approach. On the next she added, “But I just saw Miss Merrybench throwing their recruiter out of the castle. They were probably talking about me.”

  “A Pravus recruiter was on our campus? How?”

  “Security’s a mess right now, what with all the investigations going on. Mrs. Gomes seems really distracted. He probably just walked in.”

  “What’d he look like?”

  “Scrawny,” she said.

  Hmm, that didn’t help. “Did he have brown hair? A goatee?”

  “Yeah. Did you see him too? Boy, they want me real bad. You know, I was first-team all-conference last year. That’s never happened for a second-year.”

  “I know,” I said, mostly because she said this every time I talked to her. “I saw the game against Vilnix Academy. You were brilliant. That move you put on their center. Wow.” I hadn’t seen the game, but she always talked about that play so it felt like I had.

  She seemed to blush, something I’d never seen in an ogre. It made me wonder. Maybe ogres brag so much because nobody compliments them. They have to do it themselves.

  The music was coming to an end. “You’re not so bad at tackle three-ball, Runt,” she said. “Even if it is a sissy sport.”

  “Thank you.”

  So Dr. Frankenhammer had met with a Pravus recruiter. He’d given him a sample of his work. I knew Frieda thought he was here for her, but Frieda was conceited and probably wrong.

  I had a feeling that the recruiter was here to steal something other than a gifted athlete. He was after our best scientific mind. We had an intruder, and this was the proof I needed to get Mrs. Gomes focused on the very real danger of more sabotage.

  Don’t count your minions before they’re trained.

  —THE MORAL OF THE FABLE GRANDOR’S MINIONS

  I ran to find Mrs. Gomes, expecting her to be near her tsunami wall. She wasn�
��t. She’d gone back to her office to check the website trackingkillerbees.EOCapproved.evl to see if they were heading our way. The workers told me that she had left muttering, “If only the Center for Disease Disbursement would set up trackers for swine flu, dragon pox, and the green plague, my life would be so much easier!” (One of the workers did a spot-on imitation of Mrs. Gomes.)

  I didn’t have much time. I had to convince her to guard the aviary no matter what. She could stop the sabotage and catch Pismo, I was sure of it.

  I reached the crossroad. The dormitories were in one direction; the security building was in the other, at the end of the road, near the perimeter wall. I had to run past the maintenance building and worker housing to get there.

  I could do this. I could warn her and make it back in time for my test.

  And then I heard someone cry for help.

  I couldn’t help but think of the old fairy tale, about the boy who yelled tiger. We studied fairy tales as children because they taught important lessons. Sometimes the lessons weren’t obvious. You had to really think about the story. Take, for instance, the story the “Three Little Sheep.” Lots of kids thought it was a lesson about laziness, because the two sheep who built shoddy houses were eaten by the dragon. But if you ask me, it taught us that family should stick together.

  “The Boy Who Yelled Tiger” taught me that, even if someone pretends to be in danger two times, it doesn’t mean he’s lying if he yells for help a third time. I just thought it was sad that a boy had to die in order for the villagers to learn that lesson.

  When I heard that cry for help coming from the forest, of course I thought it was the imps again. Then I realized that maybe this was my third time. Maybe this time the imp really was in trouble. Maybe this time he would die if I didn’t come to his aid.

  But another part of me thought that running into that forest would bite me in the butt, like a Veluvian butt-biting cat.

  I froze for a moment, unsure what to do.

  “Help me!” the small voice cried.

  “I’m coming!” I yelled as I charged around the maintenance building.

  And then I found myself trapped in a net, being dragged away by a team of giggling imps. They dumped me into a little trailer hooked onto the back of an electric golf cart. The maintenance workers used these carts to zip around the grounds. The trailer was usually filled with tools—and, by the smell of it, manure.

  They drove on a dirt service road that wound around the grounds, away from the buildings and people who could save me. Four imps held me down in the attached trailer. Six more packed into the cart. One of the imps held his stinky little hand over my mouth so I couldn’t yell. Not that there was anyone to hear me if I did. Everyone had gone to the party.

  The path briefly wound behind the Monster Minion Dormitory, and I saw Rufus hiding behind a tree, smoking a cigarette.

  I squirmed, trying to get my mouth free so I could scream. Imps aren’t particularly strong, but unfortunately neither was I. I did have something they didn’t, though. Desperation. And in my desperation I managed to free my mouth for a few seconds. Long enough to yell something important before we passed him.

  “Rufus! Don’t smoke! It’s so bad for you! And addictive!”

  Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Gee, Higgins, you’re going to be late for the last test. Pity.”

  Hands clamped down on my mouth again and we zipped away. I watched Rufus stomp out his cigarette and turn to leave. I struggled some more, but it was too late.

  Maybe I should have screamed for help instead of warning him of the dangers of smoking.

  Stupid imps.

  They took me to the edge of the lake. I kicked and thrashed, but they strung me up just like they’d done to Boris. I tried to get free, but nothing worked. Not pleading, or bribing, or threatening. They just laughed at me.

  I could see across the lake to Mount Curiosity, where bright flags waved in the breeze and the people looked like colorful dots. Except for the giants. From this far, they looked like tiny people.

  I pictured the junior henchman trainees lining up, listening to Coach Foley describe the final test. I bet it had something to do with strength and performance under pressure and bravery. And meanwhile, the birds were in danger. I couldn’t bear to think about something happening to Kibwe, or the doves, or any of the other birds. Even the blue jays. They were incredibly annoying, but they didn’t deserve to die.

  I covered my head with my hands.

  The imps sat under the tree, arguing about who was winning their “trapping other students” competition. Was that why they were doing this to me? For a measly point?

  I heard the crunch of gravel through the forest. It sounded like another golf cart was heading our way. Oh, please let it be Eloni, I prayed. Eloni could walk right through these imps, and they couldn’t do a thing to stop him. The imps stopped arguing and looked over.

  But it wasn’t Eloni. It was Pismo. The imps relaxed.

  “I’m tellin’ ya, Spanky, they have twenty-seven points,” one said.

  “Yer daft. Twenty-two, max.”

  “Runt!” Pismo yelled. “I heard Rufus laughing in his head about you being trapped.”

  “Pismo?” I said. “Don’t you have some sabotage to get to?”

  “I’m not the saboteur. I’ve come to free you so you can make it to your test.”

  Oh, so now he wanted to free me? “Pismo, the test doesn’t matter. You were right; I’m nothing but a runty little human. I’ll never be a powerful minion.”

  “Probably not,” Pismo said. “You’re extremely gullible and naive.”

  “Gee, thanks. Did you come all this way just to insult me?”

  “Just being honest, bro. Listen, Runt, the school needs you. Dr. Critchlore needs you. It doesn’t matter if you’re only a human; you have a passion for this school. Passionate people do great things. My dad is constantly telling me that. ‘Pismo, you have got to find your passion. You won’t succeed until you find it.’ Watching you, I totally see what he means.”

  I sighed. It sounded nice, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. I kept expecting him to say “Gotcha!” and then laugh at me.

  “Runt, I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” he said. He jumped out of the cart. “You were right, I was a jerk. I guess I feel the need to tease people before they tease me. At least, that’s what Mistress Moira was thinking about me when I passed her in the hall. I can see why you thought I was sabotaging the school. I’ve been acting strangely, and for some reason I always ended up where the sabotage took place. But that was just coincidence, I swear. I would never do something to hurt this school. Or you. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

  “You don’t treat me like a friend, Pismo,” I said. “Stealing my stuff, getting me detention, taking credit for my work—”

  “I know,” he interrupted. “I thought I had good reasons for all that stuff. You’d understand if you knew my secret. I just … I just haven’t been able to tell anyone.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not important right now. I came to find you because I overheard something when I was in the teachers’ bathroom—”

  “You were where?” The teachers’ lounge was completely off-limits to students.

  “They have a nicer bathroom and I really had to go,” he said. “But I didn’t make it.” He glanced down at his pants, which looked a little damp. “Anyway, I got stuck there when all the teachers arrived at the lounge for a pre-party meeting. All their thoughts came through the door. Runt, one of them is planning more sabotage.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. But during the test, something big is going to happen. The test is just a distraction.”

  “I knew it!” I said. “But who could it be?” Dr. Frankenhammer? One last blast before he defects? Or maybe Professor Vodum; then he’d get Dr. Critchlore’s job for sure. Or maybe some other person planted by Dr. Pravus? I was back to square one.

  “It could
be anyone. There were so many thoughts coming out of there, they were all scrambled up. Oh, there’s going to be a pop quiz in your Literature class tomorrow.”

  “I have to warn Dr. Critchlore, Mrs. Gomes, everyone!” I said.

  “They’re all at the party,” Pismo said, pointing across the lake.

  “Pismo, can you go get Eloni so I can get out of here?”

  “Who needs Eloni?” he said. He reached into the back of the cart and pulled out Little Eloni, Eloni’s giant club. The imps stopped arguing among themselves and stood up.

  “Did you steal Little Eloni?”

  “Kinda. I thought I might need it.” He strode right for the imps. One look at his face and I could tell he meant business. The imps just laughed at him.

  “He wouldn’t dare,” Spanky said, still laughing.

  “Pismo, you can’t hit another student,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can,” Pismo said. He walked right up to an imp and swung the club. The imp crumpled sideways, clutching his arm. “Anyone else wanna try and stop me?”

  The imps scattered, and Pismo got me down. I looked across the lake. Banners flew on the ledge where I’d freed Puddles. We could hear the trumpets announcing the start.

  The electric carts couldn’t do more than twenty miles per hour. We wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

  But then the trumpets abruptly stopped. I could hear Coach Foley talking through the music speaker system. His voice carried across the lake on the still air.

  “Dr. Critchlore!” he yelled. “Don’t jump! Dr. Critchlore!”

  I squinted and looked across the lake. There he was, on top of a ledge on Dead Man’s Peak.

  Dr. Critchlore was going to jump.

  Minions are power.

  —DR. CRITCHLORE, TO THE EVIL OVERLORD COUNCIL

  Dr. Critchlore stood on top of the cliff. The drop was sheer granite, broken up by a few trees. The shore of the lake was rocky.

  “We’ve got to save him,” I said. The rest of the school couldn’t get to him, because of the river between Mount Curiosity and Dead Man’s Peak. But if we circled back and went around the far side of the lake? No, that would take hours. “If only we had a boat!”