Janitors

by Tyler Whitesides

  “It’s okay,” Spencer called into the vent. “It’s over now.”

  Right then, something slammed into him from behind. Spencer’s head clanged against the metal vent shaft. In a dazed stupor, he saw Leslie Sharmelle reach down and pluck the bronze nail from Daisy’s open palm.

  “How . . . ?” Spencer tried. Leslie must have also survived inside the vent. Then, as he was distracted with rescuing Daisy, Leslie had slipped out the other end of the metal shaft. The thin woman, covered with cuts and bruises, glanced around the gutted classroom. In one hand, Ninfa glistened, wet from the rising water. Under her arm was the splintery School Board. And now she had the nail . . .

  “Devil knows what happened to Garth Hadley,” she screamed, her face contorted with madness. “But someone has to end this!”

  Leslie placed the School Board on the vent and set the sharp tip of the nail against the wood. With a wicked shriek, Leslie raised Ninfa to drive the nail home.

  Rubble crashed down from above. The roof gave the most terrifying groan yet, causing Leslie to glance up. In that crucial moment of distraction, Spencer leapt forward. Slipping the wet hammer from her hand, he lunged at the School Board.

  Leslie was still holding the bronze nail to the wood when Spencer struck with the hammer. Once—twice. She cursed as the hammer smashed her fingers. But, with a third strike from Ninfa, the head of the bronze nail was smooth against the School Board.

  The room was dreadfully silent. Even the roof stopped its creaking—the calm before the storm.

  Leslie backed away from the Board in shock. Spencer gripped the hammer, his eyes wide in disbelief at his own actions. He had driven the nail! But Leslie had been right; someone had to end this.

  Then the roof cracked violently, as if to make up for its moment of silence.

  “Daisy,” Spencer cried. “You’ve got to get up!”

  Leslie had fallen to her knees, hands outstretched, as if the world had just slipped through her fingers. With such a dazed, blank stare, Spencer would have thought her a mannequin if it hadn’t been for the slight tremble of her chin.

  Dropping Ninfa, Spencer grabbed both of Daisy’s hands and jerked the girl out of the bent air shaft. Beside her tumbled the broom that Spencer had launched into the vent.

  “Hang on!” Spencer shouted. Her arms feebly clung to his neck and Spencer helped her straddle the broom handle. He picked up Ninfa and shoved the hammer into Daisy’s hand. Turning back for the School Board, Spencer saw that Leslie Sharmelle was holding it tightly.

  As the roof sloughed inward, Spencer leapt sideways, slamming the broom bristles against the floor as hard as he could. Spencer’s left hand reached out, grasping the papery Vortex bag from the broken air vent. The two kids shot sideways, sailing toward the blown-out classroom window and into the dark sky.

  Behind them, the room crumpled like a cardboard box. The sound was sickening—the kind of crunching and crashing that the kids would never forget.

  Spencer and Daisy drifted into the parking lot as the weak broom struggled to keep them both aloft. The landing was awkward and they both tumbled to the blacktop.

  “What happened?” Daisy said. She had found the strength to rise on her own feet.

  Spencer looked at the crumbled, moonlit wreckage of Mrs. Cleveland’s classroom. “I think we won.”

  “No,” Daisy whispered. “What happened to you?”

  Spencer stepped away from her, wondering what she meant. He looked down and gasped.

  “You’re glowing.”

  Chapter 42

  “What happened to me?”

  The classroom accident made the news. A janitor by the name of John Campbell was the first responder. He’d been at the school late, shampooing carpets, when a violent crash led him to discover the ruined classroom and call 911.

  Not only was the accident newsworthy, but several mysterious events surrounding the collapse of the classroom also gained the media’s attention. Police were still investigating.

  Only one person was found in the rubble of the broken room. She was quickly taken by Life Flight to the hospital. The young woman was in critical condition, having suffered broken bones and a concussion to the head. Police scoured the area, but no other individuals were found.

  News reporters commented that, as the debris was cleared, the classroom was found to be completely stripped. Desks, computer, carpet, even the classroom sink was gone. Authorities believe the operation was some kind of massive classroom theft.

  To make things worse, the woman had stolen a vehicle from Hillside Estates. Fortunately, John Campbell was able to cripple her escape by driving a BEM van into the stolen station wagon.

  Police were waiting until the unnamed blonde recovered before interrogating her about the alleged station wagon theft and total destruction of school property.

  There was much hearsay and speculation as to the cause of the classroom cave-in. Answers to these questions would be resolved only when the victim regained stability.

  But there were many things, of course, that the news would never know. The true story went more like this:

  Spencer and Daisy raced into Mrs. Natcher’s classroom. Walter and Alice were on the floor, tightly mop-tied. The kids untangled them, and Alice fell on her son with hugs and worried exclamations. But it was Walter’s reaction that really frightened him.

  “Spencer,” the warlock hissed. He put a hand to his bald head. “The Aura.”

  “What do you mean?” Alice asked, pushing Spencer back for inspection. “What happened?”

  “You drove the nail, didn’t you,” stated Walter.

  Spencer stared down at his body, cloaked in a warm, gold glow. “What happened to me?”

  “Since you drove the nail,” Walter explained, “you’re protected by the magical Aura until you set up a domain.”

  “Set up a domain . . . ?” Spencer mumbled in disbelief. The consequences of his actions were uncomfortably starting to set in.

  “Aura? What Aura?” Alice started combing over Spencer like something was hidden in his hair.

  “You can’t see it because it exists on the same plane as the Toxites and you haven’t been exposed yet,” the warlock explained.

  Daisy handed Ninfa to Walter.

  “Where’s the School Board?” he asked.

  “It’s under the rubble in Mrs. Cleveland’s room,” Spencer said. “There wasn’t time to get it away from Leslie.”

  Then Walter noticed the vacuum bag cradled in Spencer’s arm. The boy clung to it, the only tangible evidence of what he’d done. A memorial to utter destruction.

  “You did what you had to, Spencer,” Walter said.

  “Marv,” Spencer whispered. “I killed him.” He remembered the burly janitor rolling across the classroom, fighting like a dragon. The Vortex had claimed Marv just as it had the other BEM workers and Garth Hadley. Spencer felt his eyes welling with tears.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled. “He saved my life . . .” His mom put an arm across his shoulders. Daisy stared unblinking at the bag.

  “Marv knew the dangers involved in this kind of janitorial work,” Walter said. “There was nothing else you could have done. Marv would be proud of you—and your decision to use the Vortex.”

  Spencer swallowed hard. He held out the Vortex, begging Walter to take it. The janitor held up his hands. “He may not be dead,” Walter said. “The Vortex is a mystery to us all. Keep the bag. If there’s a way to recover him, we’ll find it.”

  Walter strode purposefully out of Mrs. Natcher’s room and disappeared down the hallway. The others stood in reverent silence for a moment. When Spencer finally moved, his feet seemed heavy and sluggish.

  By the time they caught up to Walter, he’d been to the Rebel closet and stood before the wreckage of Mrs. Cleveland’s
room with a pushbroom.

  “Stand back,” he cautioned. The janitor struck the rubble of the collapsed doorway and sent it floating.

  “Be careful,” Daisy said as he tunneled out of sight, bits of brick and twisted shards of metal flying out of his way.

  A moment later, Walter returned with the School Board, the nail set firmly in the magical desktop. He handed the board to Alice and glanced back at the crumpled classroom.

  “I’ve got to get back in there. Leslie’s still alive, but she’s going to need first aid.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a car key. “Mrs. Zumbro, I need you to get the children out of here before the police arrive. Please go. Take my car.” Walter handed her the key. “Red Pontiac Grand Am.”

  “What about you?” Daisy asked.

  “I’m calling 911. I need to get Leslie out of there.” The warlock looked once more at Spencer and gave him a stoic nod. Then he sent the rubble flying again as he burrowed into the wreckage to rescue the enemy.

  The two kids followed Alice through the school’s broken doors and into the parking lot. Spencer couldn’t help but notice how Daisy stared at him while they walked. The Aura illuminated the whole hallway, powerful and frightening. Spencer bit back the urge to cry.

  What had he done?

  Chapter 43

  “It’s a big decision.”

  Thanks for coming,” Spencer said, clearing a spot on the leather couch for Walter to sit down. “Sorry about the mess,” he added. “My family’s not the cleanest.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Walter answered with a smile, sliding one of Max’s toy dump trucks aside with his foot. “I’m a janitor. I’m used to messes.”

  It was Saturday afternoon, cool and rainy. A quick phone call had brought Walter Jamison to the house.

  “I saw you on the news this morning,” Spencer said.

  “Oh, no. Did my hair look all right?” Walter asked sarcastically, running a hand over his bald head.

  “How’s Leslie Sharmelle, or Sarah Bently . . . or whoever she is?”

  “She’ll survive,” Walter said. “But when she wakes up, she’ll wish she hadn’t. Everyone thinks she stole your station wagon and emptied Mrs. Cleveland’s classroom. By the time I was finished talking to the police, I even had her blamed for the mysterious cave-in. I don’t suspect we’ll be seeing much more of Leslie Sharmelle.”

  Alice Zumbro entered from the kitchen, a few store-bought cookies on a plate. “It was all I could find,” she said. “Wish they were homemade.”

  The janitor took a cookie and sat back. “I’m really proud of you,” he said. “Both of you.” His eyes looked exceptionally tired and weary. “Insurance will cover the station wagon,” Walter said. “Once they prove Leslie guilty, you should get a new car.”

  “The old station wagon suited us fine.” Alice shook her head. “Twelve years of safe driving, and then—wham!” Alice clapped her hands. “Some jerk totals it in a parking lot.”

  “How is Daisy holding up?” Walter asked. “She showed such courage.”

  “She was pretty shaken up last night,” Alice said. “Luckily, I was able to calm her parents when we dropped her off.”

  “Everyone that discovers the truth will be in danger of the BEM,” Walter said. “Poor Daisy’s involved, whether she likes it or not. But I’m counting on you to keep her safe, Mrs. Zumbro. We really mustn’t bring Mr. and Mrs. Gates into this.”

  “I’ll watch Daisy,” Alice promised. “And it shouldn’t be a problem to keep her folks innocent. They’re quite clueless about a lot. Surprisingly gullible.”

  They chewed the dry cookies in awkward silence.

  “Oh.” Spencer reached over to the coffee table. “Here’s the School Board and Ninfa.” He picked up the hammer and the heavy piece of antique wood. “I’m ready to get rid of this Aura.” Spencer glanced down at his shimmering arms. “You don’t know how hard it was to fall asleep last night. I was like a walking nightlight.”

  “You seem the same to me,” Alice said. It was a simple statement, but she had no idea how much that meant to Spencer. He felt so foreign, so alien. It was comforting to know that his mom couldn’t see anything different about him.

  Walter chuckled. “Regretfully, Mrs. Zumbro, we don’t keep a stock of revealing soap at the school. Too risky. Spencer will have to create a new batch if he chooses to expose you. It might take some time, but he’ll get it.” Walter nodded at Spencer. “There’s a lot you have to learn about being a warlock. I don’t claim to be an expert, but I’ll help you as much as I can.”

  He took another cookie from the plate. “Where will you drive the nail? Give it some thought. It’s a big decision.”

  “Not for me.” Spencer held out the objects to Walter. “I don’t think the Rebel Underground should have to rely on a twelve-year-old warlock,” Spencer explained. “You can keep supplying the Rebels, and maybe the Toxites won’t take over every school.”

  Walter reverently took the bronze hammer and School Board from Spencer’s outstretched hands. “I’m honored.”

  “Now will I stop glowing?” Spencer glanced at his arms.

  Walter placed the tip of Ninfa against the head of the bronze nail. A magic bond formed instantly and started lifting the nail free of the wood. The small bronze nail fell tinkling onto the coffee table.

  Instantly, the protective Aura around Spencer began to fade. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, the glow was completely extinguished.

  Spencer retrieved the fallen nail and handed it to Walter. “Just promise me that you’ll Glopify some really cool stuff.”

  Walter grinned. “I told you once that I feared a war might be brewing. The BEM’s new experiments will redefine the world of Glopified equipment. They’re not out to fight Toxites anymore. They’re fighting us.”

  “Well, I hope they know what they’re up against,” Alice said. “Because nobody messes with my kids.”

  Spencer had taken that for granted until he had seen his mom tackle Leslie Sharmelle at the hotel. It was nice to have a mom who cared.

  “There’s one more thing,” Spencer said. He stepped into the other room and returned with the Vortex. He had debated giving it up. The vacuum bag represented painful memories, true. But to Spencer it was also an icon of sacrifice and friendship. “I want you to have this.” He handed it to Walter.

  The janitor accepted the bag with a sad smile. “Spencer,” he said, “Marv would want—”

  “I don’t . . .” Spencer held up his hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Walter sighed and pulled on a baseball cap. “Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Zumbro.” He pocketed Ninfa and the nail and tucked the School Board under one arm.

  At the door, Walter Jamison turned. He stared hard at the boy. “Thank you, Spencer. For everything.” Then he disappeared into the rain, sidestepping a puddle on the sidewalk.

  “Until Monday,” the boy whispered. So why did Spencer feel like that was good-bye?

  Chapter 44

  “A van?”

  Daisy Gates reached her goal of being the first student to enter the school on Monday morning. Close behind was Spencer.

  Bright and early, the two kids had met on the playground and entered Welcher Elementary, anxious to see how Walter had reestablished his domain. The kids walked briskly to the janitor stairwell only to stop short, their hearts beating fast.

  Boxes.

  Cardboard boxes were taped shut and piled on the stairs. Spencer and Daisy waded past a stack and were starting down the stairwell when they came face-to-face with a somber Walter Jamison.

  “What is this?” Spencer asked, pointing at the stuff piling up.

  Walter set down the box he was carrying and rubbed a hand along his bald head. “Ah, glad you’re here. I need some extra helpers
to carry things out to the van.”

  “Van? What are you talking about?” Daisy cried.

  Walter nodded. “I’m done here,” he said quietly.

  “What?” Spencer and Daisy shouted in unison.

  “I’ve been fired,” Walter explained. “We knew it would happen. The BEM is still in charge.”

  “I don’t care!” Spencer said angrily. “We beat the BEM!”

  Walter shook his head. “We beat Garth Hadley and stumped the BEM’s plans to make him the next warlock. But one doesn’t beat the Bureau of Educational Maintenance.”

  “But,” said Spencer, looking for an excuse. “But the nail and the hammer . . .”

  “They are safe,” Walter said. “I re-drove the bronze nail into the School Board yesterday. Then I chose my new domain. I’m a full-fledged warlock again, ready to experiment—thanks to you two.”

  “But where will you go?” Daisy asked.

  Walter lowered his voice. “The BEM will track me down wherever I set up. But if I can remain in motion . . .” He grinned to himself. “I have established my new domain in a van.”

  “A van?” Daisy asked.

  “A fifteen-passenger vehicle,” he replied. “It should be large enough to experiment with Glop. And since the van will already have wheels, I’ll be able to make deliveries to the Rebel schools without ever leaving my domain.”

  “No,” Spencer interrupted. “I won’t let you leave. Who’s going to replace you?”

  “The Bureau has hired two new janitors,” said the warlock. “They’ll arrive at Welcher in a few days.”

  “BEM workers? Here?” Spencer stomped his foot. “But they’ll let the Toxites take over. Without you, I’ll be sleeping through every lesson!”

  “Haven’t we taught you anything?” Walter asked. “The Toxites will multiply, true. But as long as you can see them, you can fight them.” He picked up the box. “I’ll be around to give you new supplies as often as I can manage. As long as you two are here, I’ll consider Welcher Elementary part of the Underground.”