Dr. Critchlore's School for Minions

by Sheila Grau

  “Follow me,” Pismo said. He ran into the lake and dived in. I chased after him. He popped up and turned to me. “Swim in and grab my shoulders,” he told me.

  I did as he said, because a good minion always obeys orders. When I grabbed his shoulders, he dived underwater. He pulled away so quickly I almost lost my grip. I couldn’t believe how fast we were going. I looked back and saw that he had a tail, like a dolphin.

  When we rose for air, I said, “You’re a mer—” and then we were under again. Once above I said, “Merperson?”

  “Yes, I’m a flipping merman,” he said. For some reason, I could hear him speak, even when we were underwater. We were moving so fast! Diving down and bursting into the air.

  “Do you get it now?” Pismo asked.

  I did. He was embarrassed about being a mermaid, er, merman.

  “Why didn’t—” I said on an upswing, and then we were under; once up again, I finished, “—you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want anyone to know, obviously. And you don’t have to talk with your mouth. I can read your thoughts when we’re underwater. And you can read mine.”

  This last bit didn’t sink in right away, because the next thing I thought was, Mermaids, mermaids, what do I know about them? Let’s see, they are incredibly stupid.

  We are not! Pismo’s voice exploded inside my head.

  Oops. They were half fish. All the time.

  We can use a spell to become human, Pismo said. But I have to submerge myself in water every eight to ten hours.

  Of course! That explained why Pismo ran off before the first explosion—he wasn’t running to the cemetery to plant a bomb, he was running to the lake! And in the dungeon—he wanted to find the grotto!

  And I was shooing the zombies away from the lake because I didn’t want anyone following them out there and seeing me, he said in his mind.

  We were going as fast as a speedboat. Pismo kept leaping out of the water so I could breathe, and when he did, it felt like we were flying.

  “Pismo—” I said as we surfaced for air, but then he dived back down, so I thought the rest in my head. None of us would have cared that you’re a mermaid. “I think it’s cool,” I yelled as we surfaced.

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “I’ve heard all the jokes. And they put me with the Class 5 minions—bodies, no brains. Everyone thinks merpeople are dumb.”

  I’m really sorry.

  It’s not your fault. It’s the sirens. They’re so jealous of us, since they’re stuck on shore and we can breathe underwater. They’re the ones that made up that stupid creation myth, and all the dumb mermaid jokes. The Siren Syndicate is so powerful, they can say whatever they want, and people believe them.

  Growing up in landlocked Stull, I had no idea of this rivalry.

  Will we make it in time? I thought.

  I don’t know.

  How much farther? I asked, because I couldn’t see anything through the spray of water.

  We’re almost there. I stashed my merman battle gear at the bottom of the lake. I need my slingshot.

  Slingshot? I didn’t even pause to figure out what he meant by that. My brainpower was focused on Dr. Critchlore. I knew I could talk him down from the cliff. I had just the thing to tell him. I’d been thinking about it since the first day of school, when I’d found him crying because he doesn’t have any children.

  I’m going deep, Pismo thought at me.

  We went down, down, down. My ears hurt from the pressure, but still we went down. I held my nose closed with one hand and blew out to equalize the pressure. I had no idea the lake was so deep.

  I was surprised to realize that my lungs weren’t burning. In fact, I felt like I could stay underwater forever. It was so cool. Mermaids really were magical creatures. I might have actually thought that in my head, because Pismo’s next thought exploded in my brain:

  You don’t know the half of it!

  We reached the bottom. Don’t let go of me, Pismo thought. I kept my grip on his shoulders. He grabbed one hand and spun me around to face him while he attached something to his back.

  We use these to attack things on land. The harness nearly reached the bottom of his tail, and at the top was a bow that lay across his shoulders, stretching far beyond them. It was a giant crossbow, and he was wearing it on his back.

  We call them slingshot crossbows, he thought at me. Pull the pocket down until it clicks into the lock.

  I did. The pocket was big enough to hold a cannonball.

  Grab my shoulders and put your feet in the pocket.

  It just dawned on me what Pismo planned to do, but we were swimming up before I could organize my thoughts into a scream of NO!

  When I breach, I’m going to launch you. You’ll fly right to Dr. Critchlore!

  I could picture what Pismo meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to fly through the air at a wall of jagged granite. And how did he know I’d hit the ledge? Did he have some special mer-power that enabled him to hit a target like that?

  I had to believe that he did have that kind of power. I felt Pismo working his tail furiously. We were going so fast. At last we broke the surface, and Pismo and I flew into the air like a missile.

  We were more than twenty feet high when Pismo yelled, “Firing!”

  I was flung from his back so fast I couldn’t breathe. I felt like the human cannonball from the circus.

  I soared upward. I could hear screams coming from the crowd across the river. They’d seen me too.

  The wall of granite got closer. I could see the ledge. I held my arms out straight in front of me, like Superminion, the caped superhero. I could see Dr. Critchlore’s eyes widen at the sight of his minion flying right at him. Maybe he would catch me in his arms and all would be well.

  He didn’t.

  He stepped back as I impacted on the side of the ledge. My arms scrambled to find something to hold on to, but it was too gravelly, and I fell backward. And down. I tumbled down the face of the cliff that Dr. Critchlore had been about to jump from.

  I hit a rock with my side and heard the crowd moan, “Ooooh.” Then I ricocheted off a tree, and I heard an “Owwww.” A bush, “Ooooh”; another thump into a tree, “Owwww.” I was a human pinball.

  My feet and hands tried to slow my fall, but still I fell. Down, down I went, the rocks and bushes slicing up my arms and legs. At last I thumped down on a boulder and lost my breath.

  I looked up and saw Dr. Critchlore leaning over the ledge. “Hinklebert! Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I blinked a few times. I raised one hand and made the “okay” symbol with my fingers.

  “There! Look!” Dr. Critchlore shouted at the crowd. “He’s giving us the ‘okay’ sign! He’s okay!”

  The crowd cheered. I smiled as I lay there in incredible pain. They liked me. They really liked me.

  Dr. Critchlore turned around and climbed down to me, finding toeholds I’d missed. My lungs relaxed and I breathed in deeply, but I was afraid to move. Afraid that I’d be hit with a wave of pain that meant I was seriously injured.

  “There, now,” he said when he reached me. He put a hand on my chest. “You’ll be fine.” A pinecone hit him in the head. “Stupid trees,” he muttered. Then he shouted, “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

  I sat up. It hurt. Everywhere.

  “Dr. Critchlore,” I said, “were you going to jump?”

  “I was,” he said. “But after seeing you fall down the slope, I realized it would be a very painful way to go. I’ll think of something a little easier. A stampede of animals, maybe. Or jumping into the Pit of Fire. Oh! Cook has threatened to poison anyone who tells that little cursed orphan boy he’s not a werewolf.”

  “Dr. Critchlore, don’t kill yourself,” I said before that last part sunk in. “Wait, what did you say?”

  “Hmm?” He looked down at me, and then his eyes widened. “Um, nothing.”

  I had to stay focused, so I took a deep breath and said th
e words I’d wanted to tell him ever since I found him crying in his office. “I think I know what’s been getting you down. I noticed it the first day of school—how sad you were when watching that commercial with the father and daughter on TV. You’re depressed because you don’t have children of your own. And you’re hoping that all these new hobbies will hide the pain of not having children. But Dr. Critchlore, you do have children!”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  I took another breath. My side hurt like crazy, but I put it out of my mind. This was too important. “All of us,” I waved a hand at the minions across the river. “We’re your children, Dr. Critchlore. All five hundred and twenty-six of us. The school is our home, and you’ve raised us with your lessons. But someone is trying to destroy our home. It’s your job to protect it, to protect us. We’re all counting on you.”

  I had him convinced, I knew I did. Now he was going to see the truth and get back to work.

  “The students are my children,” he repeated, looking out over the lake. Then he laughed. “What a ridiculous notion! As if I would send my child to a school for minions. The very idea. Oh, Hagforth, you slay me.”

  He turned serious. “My family is filled with backstabbing, traitorous megalomaniacs. The last thing I want is more family.”

  “Really?” How could I have been so wrong? How could anyone think family was a bad thing? If a loving family wouldn’t keep Dr. Critchlore from jumping, I wasn’t sure what would. “Dr. Critchlore, we need you. Please don’t kill yourself.”

  “I’m afraid I have to kill myself,” Dr. Critchlore said.

  “What?” I wanted to strangle the man. “Why?”

  “I was given a choice,” he said. “I can’t remember the exact words, but I had to do something completely repulsive, or I had to kill myself. I can’t remember …” He left the thought unfinished.

  “Who told you that?”

  “A voice in my head. I’m not sure. I’m feeling very confused and a little dizzy, and I have a craving for a cream puff.” His legs started twitching.

  Suggesterol!

  “Did Professor Vodum give you something to drink?” I asked.

  “Yes. He chased me to my office and told me to calm down so we could discuss things. He made me a cup of tea,” he said. “But I can’t remember anything he said. Honestly, if he weren’t family, I’d fire him. He’s an insufferable bore.” He shook his head. “I sent him down to the dungeon with my trapdoor, ha! Third time, that was. You’d think he’d learn.”

  “Was it after you drank the tea that the voice told you about the choice?”

  “I think so.”

  “Dr. Critchlore,” I said, standing up. “You’ve been given a potion. Suggesterol. I think Professor Vodum is trying to get rid of you.”

  “Get rid of me? Why?”

  “So he can take your place. That’s why he met with the board. He thinks he can do a better job than you.”

  I grabbed Dr. Critchlore by the shoulders and looked him right in the eye. Maybe I could make a suggestion of my own. “You do not have to kill yourself. We are going to climb down and get in that boat.” I could see Miss Merrybench at the front of the pontoon boat coming to save us. Pismo stood next to her, in human form. He looked worried, so I gave him a thumbs-up. Tootles stood at the helm, beneath the sunshade roof, with Syke next to him. She was smiling and shaking her head.

  “We are going to climb down to the boat,” Dr. Critchlore repeated. “I do not have to kill myself.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  It took us a little while to climb down. I know it wasn’t very minion-like, but Dr. Critchlore was obviously still under the power of the Suggesterol, so I decided to make a few more suggestions.

  Tootles angled the boat sideways to shore so we could climb on. Miss Merrybench helped Dr. Critchlore aboard and then found a blanket to drape around his shoulders. I was pretty sure Dr. Critchlore was fine. I, on the other hand, was bleeding from five or ten or sixty open wounds. I climbed on and sat next to Syke as Tootles steered us back toward the dock.

  “Oh, Derek,” Miss Merrybench said. “I ran to the dock as soon as I saw you on the other side of the waterfall. I insisted that Tootles take me to come save you, but he made me wait for these … children.” She sneered at Pismo and Syke.

  “They looked like they needed help too,” Tootles said. “The boy was soaking wet, and Syke thinks there’s something wrong up at the party.”

  Syke gazed up at the mountain, and a look of confusion, or sadness, replaced her smile. “I can’t hear the trees up there.”

  “Huh?”

  “There’s something wrong with the trees. It’s like they’ve gone to sleep. Or they’re dead.” I’d never seen Syke look so nervous, so scared.

  “There’s definitely something wrong up there,” Tootles said. “It’s too quiet. I’ll check it out as soon as I drop you all off.”

  “I think Dr. Critchlore needs to go to the infirmary,” I said. “He’s been drugged with Suggesterol.”

  “Nobody cares what a stupid little third-year thinks,” Miss Merrybench whisper-hissed at me. Louder, she said, “I’m going to take care of him.”

  “The boy’s right,” Tootles said. “The man needs to be looked at.”

  Miss Merrybench scowled, but agreed.

  We reached the dock, and I was surprised to see Darthin, Frankie, Eloni, and Boris standing there, waiting for us.

  I jumped off the boat, followed by everyone else, and rushed over to them. Every muscle ached and protested, but I felt good.

  “Why aren’t you at the party?” I asked.

  “We were looking for you,” Darthin said.

  Even though I was bleeding and sore and cold, hearing those words made my whole body fill up with warmth.

  “I have to find Mrs. Gomes and tell her to arrest Professor Vodum. He just tried to kill Dr. Critchlore. And he’s going to sabotage the aviary.”

  “Mr. Higgins.” I turned and saw Miss Merrybench standing with Dr. Critchlore. Tootles and Syke stood behind them. “I forgot to tell you something important. Before all the excitement, I was looking for you myself.” She smiled down at me. “To tell you that your parents are here.”

  A man is known by the minions he keeps.

  —THE MORAL OF THE FABLE MAX AND HIS MINIONS

  I felt like I’d just tumbled down the mountain again. “What?”

  “Yes. They’re back. They’ve come back for you,” she said. “Tell him, Dr. Critchlore. Tell Higgins that his parents are waiting in your office to see him.”

  Dr. Critchlore looked from Miss Merrybench to me. “Higgins, your parents are waiting in my office to see you.” He looked toward the building. All was quiet as this information sunk in.

  My parents had come back?

  “Come with me, Mr. Higgins,” Miss Merrybench said. “Tootles, why don’t you take Dr. Critchlore to the infirmary. The rest of you children go and join the party. Go on. There’s cake and punch.”

  I turned to my friends. They were all smiling at me. “Go on, Higgins,” Darthin said. “We’ll find Mrs. Gomes.”

  “Yeah, we got it covered,” Eloni said.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Syke added. “You idiot.”

  Boris, Frankie, and Pismo waved me off too. I had to jog a little to keep up with Miss Merrybench’s rapid speed walking. I still couldn’t believe it. My parents had come back for me! And not only that, but the school was safe now. Mrs. Gomes would arrest Professor Vodum, Dr. Critchlore would get fixed up in the infirmary, and the school could get back to normal.

  I was going to miss my junior henchman test, but I didn’t care. I’d found my parents, which was the only reason I wanted to be a junior henchman in the first place.

  I followed Miss Merrybench into Dr. Critchlore’s private elevator. She kept her gaze forward. I wanted to ask her a million questions, but they all jumbled up in my brain and none of them could make it out
of the bottleneck in my mouth.

  The doors opened, and Miss Merrybench strode out. It took all my self-control not to race past her with my arms wide. I followed her into Dr. Critchlore’s office, where she turned around and scowled at me with a terrifying look of anger on her face.

  I looked around. The office was empty.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  Miss Merrybench glared at me, her lips pursed together tightly. “Your parents are not here, Higgins,” she said. “They were never here. Not today, not eight years ago.”

  “Then—”

  “You’ve gotten in my way for the last time.”

  She nodded at something behind me. I turned and saw that the whole pack of imps had silently crept into the room. My head did that swivel thing—I looked at the imps, then back at Miss Merrybench, then back at the imps. And even with all that, I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  “Tie him up,” she ordered.

  “They work for you?” I asked. My brain finally caught on.

  “Yes,” she said. “Though not for long, if they keep MESSING THINGS UP!”

  The imps muttered to themselves as they tied my hands behind my back. I didn’t put up a fight. What could I do?

  “Simple orders, imps,” she went on. “ ‘Trap Runt Higgins.’ How hard can it be? But no, he gets away in the Strawberry Snare. He gets away on the tower. You trap the wrong kid. He gets away from the net.”

  “Mumble, mumble … not our fault … mumble, mumble … hit on the arm … mumble, mumble … kid has too many friends.”

  “Well, you better make sure nobody finds him,” Miss Merrybench said. “At least for the next hour or so.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why did you want them to trap me?”

  Her lip curled up in a sneer. She walked right up to me and grabbed my chin. “You little pest,” she said. “You ruin EVERYTHING!” She screamed right in my face. I tried to edge away from her, but her grip on my chin was really tight.

  “What’d I do?”

  “I was supposed to save Dr. Critchlore on the cliff after I sabotaged his climbing gear. I was supposed to get credit for the puppy, and I was supposed to diffuse the explosive minions under his window! But no, you had to go and take all the credit for yourself, you little … credit-stealing brat!”