The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 4)

by Perrin Briar

  “So, what’s the plan for getting her attention today?” Frederick said. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try wearing tight-fitting clothes again.”

  “It got her attention, didn’t it?” Fritz said.

  “Yes. Hers and everyone else’s,” Frederick said, grimacing. “You could have at least have worn some underwear.”

  “I don’t like restrictions,” Fritz said.

  “Yes, well, the rest of us would prefer it if you did with your nether regions,” Frederick said. “You know, sometimes you have to accept defeat and know when you’re beaten.”

  “I’m a Robinson,” Fritz said. “We don’t know the meaning of defeat.”

  “Defeat: ‘To overcome in a contest, election, battle, etc. Prevail over. Vanquish,’ ” Frederick said. “The value of being the proud owner of a dictionary. But you have at least experienced defeat. There was that time Ulrike said no when you asked her to the dance.”

  “That was an isolated incident,” Fritz said.

  “Or the time Heike called you an idiot-”

  “Isolated incidents,” Fritz said.

  “Can they be isolated if there are more than one of them?” Frederick said.

  “Anyway, how can I truly fail?” Fritz said. “I’ve got the greatest wingman in the world.”

  Frederick’s heart swelled.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said. Then he frowned. “Wait. A wingman is someone you use to make yourself look better by comparison, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” Fritz said. “But only marginally so, otherwise there’s no better looker. It’s just crap plus one.”

  “And I’m the crap,” Frederick said.

  “I’m only plus one,” Fritz said.

  “Great,” Frederick said. “For a minute there I thought you were insulting me.”

  Fritz looked over at Beauty conversing with her friends.

  “Fritz,” Frederick said, “here’s a new idea on how to woo Beauty: Why don’t you just ask her out?”

  “I will,” Fritz said. “But first I need to set the right mood. The ambiance as we romantics like to call it.”

  “In other words you want to make sure she’s going to say yes before you actually ask her,” Frederick said.

  “That’s right,” Fritz said.

  A pair of pretty girls walked past. They smiled shyly at Fritz and said, “Hello, Fritz.”

  “Hi,” Fritz said without looking at them.

  The girls giggled and headed inside. Frederick shook his head.

  “In the valley of the blind,” he said. “Why don’t you try a different girl? One who isn’t such a challenge?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Fritz said. “Anything worth doing is never easy.”

  “I beg to differ,” Frederick said. “They’re often the best things to do, precisely because they come so easily. Tell me again, why is it so important that you end up with this girl?”

  “Because a man must have something to occupy his time,” Fritz said.

  “But you could have any of these other girls you want!” Frederick said. “Even the ones with boyfriends already! They’d happily dump them for you!”

  “Then they’re no challenge,” Fritz said.

  Frederick shook his head.

  “You and your challenges,” he said. “What you don’t realise is Beauty might be a bigger challenge than you thought.”

  Fritz frowned.

  “What do you mean?” he said.

  “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I heard she’s got the hots for someone else,” Frederick said.

  “Who?” Fritz said.

  “Alexander,” Frederick said.

  “Alexander?” Fritz said. “Alexander who?”

  Just then Alexander Bauer strutted up the path toward the school’s front entrance. He walked with his lanky cousin Dieter at his side. Beauty watched him as he passed, self-consciously tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

  Fritz’s eyes narrowed.

  “So,” he said. “Finally, a worthy opponent.”

  The bell rang.

  “Time for classes,” Frederick said, gathering his things. “I think chasing after Beauty is a mistake, just for the record.”

  “We’re teenagers,” Fritz said. “We’re supposed to make mistakes.”

  “Are they mistakes if we know we’re making them?” Frederick said.

  “Let’s leave that up to the philosophers to argue over, shall we?” Fritz said.

  II

  “What’s the plan again?” Frederick said.

  Fritz bent down, performing stretches.

  “I’m going to trounce the guy the girl fancies,” he said, “and when she sees how superior I am she’s going to come after me like a starving sumo after a bowl of rice.”

  Alexander stepped forward, picked up a javelin and threw it. It landed a yard farther than the other javelins that stuck up out of the ground like a porcupine’s quills. Alexander’s team clapped, whooping. Fritz rolled his eyes.

  Then Alexander’s lanky cousin Dieter took to the plate. He picked up a javelin and threw it without preamble. It sailed pathetically through the air and landed short of the other javelins.

  Fritz folded his arms, exposing his large muscles. The coach waved Fritz over. His turn.

  “Is she looking?” Fritz said to Frederick.

  Frederick looked up at the classrooms behind them. Beauty was in Physics on the second floor. She sat by the window, looking down at the field.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Excellent,” Fritz said.

  He spat into his hands and rubbed them together. He picked up a javelin and ran forward, brought his arm back and threw it, his form perfect. The javelin flew through the air and landed several yards farther than Alexander’s. Fritz came back and high-fived Frederick. Fritz risked a look up at the classroom. Beauty was no longer looking down at the field.

  “What’s up with this broad?” Fritz grumbled.

  Ernest

  I

  Ernest followed the flood of students making their way to their classes. He turned a corner, nose buried in his book, and proceeded up the stairs. He entered the classroom and took a seat by himself on a two-seater desk. He took out his textbook and a pen, unperturbed by the empty seat beside himself, the only one in the whole class.

  Mr Kappel discussed something with the school secretary at the door, their voices low whispers. The secretary nodded and left. Mr Kappel read a document as a girl followed him into the classroom.

  “Listen up,” Mr Kappel said to the class. “We have a new student starting with us today. Miss Tanja Klein.” He turned to the girl. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

  The girl turned to face the class, hands clasped in front of herself. Controlled, calm.

  “Well, my name’s Tanja,” she said. “I’m originally from Germany, but we travelled around a lot. My father’s a hotel manager.”

  “Where have you lived?” Mr Kappel said.

  “Austria, France, England, Scotland, New York, Manila, Seoul, Tokyo, Beijing… and others.”

  “Wow,” Mr Kappel said. “You must have experienced a great deal.”

  “Some,” Tanja said modestly.

  “Has your education suffered as a result?” Mr Kappel said.

  Tanja smiled.

  “We’ll have to see,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Mr Kappel said. “Please take a seat.”

  Tanja surveyed the room. She headed toward the empty seat beside Ernest. She smiled at him as she sat down.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Ernest looked back at her, then away, his hands fiddling with the cover of his textbook.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Okay class, turn to page thirty-seven in your textbooks,” Mr Kappel said. “Today we’re going to study photosynthesis.”

  The students groaned.

  “It’s not that bad,” Mr Kappel said. “Come on. Open up.”

 
“Do you mind if we share?” Tanja said to Ernest. “I haven’t got my textbooks yet.”

  Ernest said nothing and pushed his textbook over to the middle of the table. He flipped the book open to page thirty-seven. Tanja eyed the notations and bookmark tags jutting out of the top of the book.

  “Wow,” she said. “If you’ve already studied the whole book why are we doing photosynthesis now?”

  “We haven’t studied the rest of the book yet,” Ernest said, turning red.

  “Then how come you’ve got all these notes?” Tanja said, fingering them.

  “I studied by myself,” Ernest said.

  Tanja’s eyes shone.

  “The whole textbook?” she said. “By yourself?”

  “It’s fun,” Ernest said with a shrug, colouring further.

  “Chemistry is fun?” Tanja said.

  “It is to me,” Ernest said. “Then again, most things are. Look, I’m the biggest nerd in this classroom, probably even the whole school. You don’t have to sit next to me next time if you don’t want to. You’re the new kid. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

  Tanja smiled.

  “Good to know,” she said. “Thanks for your honesty.”

  “You’re laughing at me,” Ernest said.

  “No,” Tanja said. “Just surprised at how lucky I am. I need to catch up, and here’s exactly the guy I should be talking to.”

  Ernest smiled.

  “No one’s ever described meeting me as lucky before,” he said.

  “As you said, I’m new,” Tanja said. “I’m allowed to make mistakes, right?”

  “Right,” Ernest said, eyes downcast.

  “Cheer up!” Tanja said. “It was a joke.”

  “Oh, right,” Ernest said, feigning a smile. “Have you been to many schools?”

  “I’ve lived in over a dozen countries,” Tanja said. “What do you think?”

  “Must be hard to get used to the curriculum if you keep moving around like that,” Ernest said.

  “You soon get used to wherever you are,” Tanja said. “After a while you forget about it and just concentrate on the more important subjects.”

  “Right,” Ernest said. “Like maths and science.”

  Tanja giggled.

  “No,” she said. “Not maths and science. I meant things like life lessons and ways of thinking. Culture. Social responsibility. Things like that.”

  “Oh,” Ernest said. “Did your other schools offer those kinds of classes?”

  Tanja giggled again.

  “You’re cute,” she said.

  Ernest blushed.

  “Another first?” Tanja said.

  Ernest nodded.

  “No, they didn’t offer it as a class,” Tanja said. “I just went out and helped people. Not everything worth knowing can be learnt from books, you know. Sometimes you have to pick things up yourself.”

  She bent over the textbook as Mr Kappel began to lecture. Ernest looked at Tanja out the corner of his eyes and frowned.

  II

  Ernest knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the classroom. Jenny Montrose and Yvonne Blatt, the quintessential gossips, who barely even paused to breathe while chatting, stopped dead the moment Ernest appeared in the doorway. They wouldn’t even look at him. Neither would Bernd.

  “What’s up, Bernd?” Ernest said.

  Bernd, eyes heavy-lidded, as if he was half asleep, started, and looked surprised Ernest had spoken to him. They had never been the closest of friends.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Bernd said.

  “Heard what?” Ernest said.

  “It’s Ralf,” Bernd said. “He got hurt over the weekend while skiing. Fell down the mountain, they said.”

  Ernest’s chest felt tight.

  “Then who’s going to be our fifth member?” he said. “The final quiz is tonight!”

  “We’ll have to forfeit,” Jenny said.

  A rock fell to the pit of Ernest’s stomach.

  “No…” he gasped. “But we’ve worked so hard!”

  “Unless we find a replacement it’s over,” Bernd said.

  “Then we’ll have to find someone,” Ernest said. “Even with an idiot on our team we’ll be solid.”

  “Is your brother free?” Jenny said to Ernest, winking to Yvonne.

  “Jack?” Ernest said. “No, he’s too young.”

  “Not Jack,” Jenny said. “Fritz.”

  Ernest almost burst into laughter until he realised Jenny was being serious.

  “He wouldn’t be interested,” Ernest said.

  “Shame,” Jenny said.

  Ernest dropped his backpack and took a seat.

  “Where’s Mr Kappel?” he said.

  “Probably somewhere pulling out his hair,” Jenny said.

  “What’s left of it,” Yvonne said with a titter.

  Mr Kappel sauntered into the room. Yvonne shrunk back into her seat, worried he’d overheard her remark. By the big smile on his face, that appeared unlikely.

  “By now I’m sure you’ve all heard the news concerning poor Ralf,” Mr Kappel said. “The good news is we have found a replacement.”

  Ernest let out a sigh of relief.

  “Who is it?” he said.

  Tanja came in.

  “Hey guys!” she said.

  “Her?” Jenny said. “But she only started school today!”

  “No one else was interested,” Mr Kappel said. “We should be grateful to have her.”

  “If me being here’s a problem, I can go,” Tanja said.

  “No,” Ernest said. “Stay, please. You’re doing us all a favour.”

  Ernest glared at Jenny, who shied away.

  “Now that’s all settled,” Mr Kappel said, clapping his hands, “how about we get down to some practice?”

  The students stood in a line. Mr Kappel asked Jenny to choose between two topics: Popular Culture or Physics. She chose Popular Culture. Then Mr Rappel asked her a series of questions, which she answered competently, getting only one wrong. Then it was Yvonne’s turn, then Bernd. Finally it was Ernest’s turn. He chose History.

  “Which Swiss town is the only one to have successfully defended against a French invasion in the eighteenth century?” Mr Kappel said, taking his role as question master very seriously.

  “Chucerne,” Ernest said.

  “Correct,” Mr Kappel said. “Our fair town. For how long did Chucerne defend herself?”

  “Five weeks,” Ernest said.

  “Correct,” Mr Kappel said. “Who were the attackers?”

  “The French Revolution army,” Ernest said.

  “Correct,” Mr Kappel said. “Which year?”

  “1798,” Ernest said.

  “Correct,” Mr Kappel said.

  Then Mr Kappel turned to Tanja.

  “Don’t be nervous, Tanja,” he said. “Just take your time. Are you ready?”

  Tanja nodded.

  “The topics you can choose from are History or Culture,” Mr Kappel said.

  Tanja smiled.

  “Culture, please,” she said.

  Mr Kappel grimaced.

  “Are you certain that’s what you want to go for?” he said.

  “Yes,” Tanja said. “Why not?”

  Mr Kappel turned to the others.

  “If you all were given the same option what would you choose?” he said.

  “History,” they all said at once.

  “And why is that?” Mr Kappel said. “Ernest?”

  “Because contestants score seventy-three percent of the answers right if they answer a question in the History category,” Ernest said. “Compared to forty-seven in the Culture category.”

  “And that’s our secret weapon!” Mr Kappel said, bringing his fist down on his lectern. “So long as we always follow the logic of the game we can’t lose! You all already know as much as you’re going to about your various topics of interest. There’s nothing much we can do about that now. But we can learn to play the rules of
the game.”

  Tanja put her hand up.

  “Yes?” Mr Kappel said.

  “Sir, why don’t we just pick the subject each of us knows the most about?” Tanja said.

  “Because no matter how much you know about a given subject you’re likely to get a question you don’t know, whereas if you choose an easier category you are more likely to be able to answer it, even if it’s not your special area of knowledge. I realise it sounds counterintuitive.”

  “But doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of playing?” Tanja said.

  “The purpose is to win,” Mr Kappel said.

  Tanja looked to the other students, looking for support, but finding none.

  “I see,” she said. “I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

  “Oh, it will be,” Mr Kappel said. “Since when is winning not fun?”

  Tanja smiled politely.

  “I thought the purpose was to enjoy it while you’re doing it,” she said.

  “You don’t enjoy winning?” Mr Kappel said.

  “I think winning is not important,” Tanja said.

  “Don’t let your team mates hear you say that!” Mr Kappel said with a grin. “Should History come up as an option, take it. So, your History category questions are…”

  Tanja performed well, answering all but two questions correctly. After a couple of rounds of practicing Mr Kappel gave them a break.

  “How do you manage to remember so many things?” Tanja said to Ernest. “You got every question right.”

  “I don’t know,” Ernest said. “I just remember reading them somewhere.”

  “You have a photographic memory?” Tanja said.

  “It’s not really like a photograph, but I can just see the information in my head,” Ernest said.

  “It’s impressive, whatever it is,” Tanja said. “Do you think we’ll win?”

  Ernest shrugged.

  “According to you it doesn’t really matter, does it?” he said.

  Tanja chuckled.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Sorry about that.”

  Ernest smiled back.

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Okay, break time’s over!” Mr Kappel said. “Back in the middle of the room, please.”

  III