“I was wondering if you’ve spoken with Wallace,” Faye finally said.
“What do you mean?”
“He was upset—you know, unhappy,” Faye said.
“And?”
“And I was hoping he was all right.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Jasper said, focusing on a firefly that glowed in pulses. He thought it must be the language of light.
“Oh, well, if you spoke with him, then you know,” Faye said. She wanted to know what Jasper knew. But Jasper simply sat there and stared at the dratted fireflies.
“Jasper,” Faye said after several seconds of silence, “what is it about Wallace? Is he so obsessed with his experiment that he doesn’t care about anything else?”
“Are you trying to be cruel or is it just the way you are naturally?” Jasper asked, turning to look at Faye. Her face was lit by the moonlight. Her green eyes sparkled like glowing fireflies trying to communicate. But her beauty hid the nature that Jasper was sure lay just beneath those eyes. Faye cared for no one but Faye.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Jasper was glad for this, because he hadn’t finished.
“You don’t care how Wallace is feeling,” he said. “You don’t care about anything. You were ready to leave that boy behind. You don’t even know what caring is, do you?”
“I... I... it’s just that... well, Wallace didn’t do anything—”
“He jolly well did. He helped us all with the—”
“You know perfectly well that none of his help was vital,” Faye said, without cruelty, only honesty. “We all could have and would have had equally helpful design ideas. We would not, however, have been able to make the propeller, the tail, the engine, or the wings without the rest of us. Wallace has been on the outside and I want to know why.”
Jasper wanted to yell back that she was wrong and that Wallace had been vital to saving their parents and had been an equal part, but Faye was right. It was what Wallace had been saying all along—that he was a chemist, not an engineer. His contributions were certainly helpful, and he may have seen things before the others, but nothing was particular to his genius. His genius was being spent on his own work—not theirs.
“Wallace has to do this, Faye,” Jasper finally said. “I can’t say why, but the boy lost his mum, and he has to do this. He has to finish, but... there’s only a couple days left to do it.”
“Why?” said Faye. “Why? I don’t understand, Jasper. It’s crazy. What, did his mother tell him he had to finish this before he turned ten?”
Jasper said nothing. Faye had found that grain of truth again and made it sound ugly. But it was the grain of truth from which the whole thing grew.
And suddenly, Faye knew it, too: what only Jasper had known.
Wallace’s mother had issued a proclamation before she died, that Wallace would change the world by the age of ten. She surely meant to show her son how much she loved and believed in his brilliant mind, never expecting it would become something by which Wallace measured himself. The tenth birthday probably had not meant anything at all to her.
But it meant everything to Wallace.
Faye felt the power of a parent’s words—a parent who had died and gone and left her child with a promise that now, Faye understood, he would not be able to keep. Wallace had indeed tried to help them, but for him, there was always another challenge—the race to achieve something for a mother who would never see her son grow up and never know how hard he tried.
Faye ran back to her house so Jasper would not see the tears threatening to rain down in the meadow.
THE DISTURBING SUBSTITUTION
OR
WHAT JUST FLEW IN
Sunday, which was Wallace’s birthday, came quickly. Faye was unusually quiet, everyone noticed, but no one said anything to her. Truthfully, most were glad to have a break from her bossiness. Jasper felt twinges of guilt for hurting Faye, but in truth, she had done it to herself. It was important for a person to know that other people had feelings, too.
Saturday had been spent working on various modifications. Faye had been especially kind to Wallace, asking his opinion about the wingspan and the weight ratio. By the end of the day, they were ready to test the aeroplane again. Loading the packages onto the carriage the following morning, the flappy-hatted, fuzzy boot-wearing driver simply placed the packages in the boot without question. The other driver must have given some explanation that was sufficient to prevent further inquiry.
Once they were back at school, it was plain that Miss Brett had plans. She’d placed fresh flowers around the classroom and had cut out papers to form letters that said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WALLACE!”
Wallace was stunned. There was cake and candy apples and honeyed milk for everyone. “Thank you, Miss Brett,” Wallace said while the others indulged.
“You are very, very welcome,” she said, kissing the birthday boy on the top of his head. Wallace closed his eyes. Not since his mother would wake him with kisses did he have such a gift. Today, the weight of his promise to her felt heavy in his stomach.
After Miss Brett’s birthday treats, the children used their time to reassemble the aeroplane and make some minor adjustments. They successfully flew three more times, although never more than thirty seconds. By the third flight, they were sure it was because they did not want to be seen—not because the aeroplane was incapable of flying longer. They then successfully hid the pieces in the crumbled silo, which they were certain would not be tidied up anytime soon. The gardening shed was now full of seedlings for winter lettuces, cabbage, and kale.
Miss Brett never asked, but they all knew she suspected they were up to something. As for the birdwatcher, they had seen nothing of him since their failed attempt to hitch a ride on the back of his truck. Lucy began to worry that the birdwatcher had not simply driven away.
On Friday morning, the weather was rather rainy. The sun made only a brief appearance, only once or twice peeking from behind the curtain of clouds. A wet chill hung in the air like a hostile audience, unwilling to depart. Miss Brett lit a fire in the kitchen and made thick vegetable potage. She served it with her delicious buttermilk biscuits for lunch. She and the children ate in the farmhouse and, after cleaning up and putting the dishes away, returned to the classroom for afternoon lessons and free time. While they enjoyed discussing new books, like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Five Children and It, and how the stories were the same and different, thoughts of the aeroplane flew around their heads and distracted them from everything else. If only Miss Brett knew, it would be a fabulous surprise.
But, at that moment, the surprise belonged to them instead. It was neither fabulous nor wondrous. What they saw as they stepped into the classroom stopped them cold.
First, a man was sitting in Miss Brett’s chair. Second, this man wore no black at all. He was not wearing a black coat or a black woman’s bonnet or a pair of dark-lensed aviator’s goggles. He wore neither a black swimming costume nor a black furry coat nor a pair of black bunny rabbit ears. Instead, he wore a light brown tweed suit. He was very thin and had a very pointy, one could even say sharp, little beard at the tip of his chin. He wore spectacles, but they had clear lenses. He sat with his legs crossed twice so that his toes touched at the tips of his brown leather shoes. These toes continuously tapped together, as his fingers twiddled round and round and his hands rested, thumping, on Miss Brett’s desk.
Miss Brett was the first to find her voice. “May I ask what you are doing at my desk?” she said. “May I help you?”
The man, having been staring out the window, jumped, surprised. He uncrossed his double-crossed legs and stood.
“I am Reginald Roderick Kattaning,” he said, rolling his Rs. “And you are the beloved teacher, I presume.”
“Well, I am most certainly not one of the students,” she said.
“Ah, yes, but of course,” said Reginald Roderick Kattaning. “I am here to observe.”
“No one said there would be someone he
re to observe,” Miss Brett said.
“Well, Miss, there is much you are not privy to. I am here to both observe and to relieve you of your duties.”
“No one ever said anything about—” Miss Brett began, but she was cut off by the wave of Reginald Roderick Kattaning’s hand.
“That will be enough. I am here in an official capacity.”
“Official?” Miss Brett said.
“Very, extremely official,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said, importantly.
Miss Brett said, “I want to see some identification—”
“That will not be necessary.”
“Not necessary? Just what is it you plan—”
“Officially, I will observe, and then I will take over.”
“This—this is most irregular—”
“Nonsense,” said Reginald Roderick Kattaning. “I will simply be taking over in order to... be sure that... the instruction is adequate. I will be... quizzing the children in your absence.”
“Quizzing us on what?” asked Jasper.
“None of your business, is it?” sneered Reginald Roderick Kattaning. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a quiz, eh?”
“Well, I cannot allow someone to just arrive and remove me—” said Miss Brett, but again she was cut off by a wave of Reginald Roderick Kattaning’s long, bony hand.
“You have no choice. Now, go on as if I was not here. I shall sit in the back of the class and observe.” He picked up a paper folder and a pencil from Miss Brett’s desk. “And I will be taking notes.”
Miss Brett and the children stared at Reginald Roderick Kattaning as he walked to the back of the class, seated himself on the laboratory table, and re-crossed his legs. Twice.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Teach,” he said.
Miss Brett sat heavily down in her seat. The children followed into theirs.
“Well, class,” she began, quite distractedly. She was trapped. What could she do? She wanted to make contact with someone. And then, suddenly, she was thinking about that tiny room off of the kitchen. It was the room that contained the red telephone. She tried to think of a way to use it. “Well, I think it’s time to discuss The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Please take out your—”
“I think it is time for a science lesson,” said Reginald Roderick Kattaning.
“Well, I was going to read from—”
“That will be all, Miss. I can take it from here,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said, standing up and walking to Miss Brett’s desk.
As Reginald Roderick Kattaning helped her out of her seat, Miss Brett said, “Look, I will need to speak to—”
“I am in charge here, Miss,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said in a fierce voice. “You will do as you are told. Now, go prepare lunch.” He walked over to her desk, picked up a stone she had been using to hold down some papers, and crushed it in his fist. He allowed the dust to fall into the wastepaper basket next to the desk, then wiped his hand on his trousers.
Miss Brett opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. The children were about to complain, but she subtly shook her head to quiet them.
“All right, sir,” Miss Brett said, trying to unclench her teeth. “I will do as you wish.” With as much dignity as she could muster, Miss Brett turned to go into the house.
Right then, Lucy slid from her seat and rushed to Miss Brett’s side. When she tugged at Miss Brett’s sleeve, Miss Brett leaned over and Lucy whispered in her ear. Miss Brett kissed Lucy on the top of her head, smoothed back her hair, and tried to give her a reassuring smile, urging her back to her seat. Then Miss Brett straightened her skirt, opened the door, and stepped into the kitchen.
“Take your seat, girl!” Reginald Roderick Kattaning shouted at Lucy. Lucy quickly returned to her seat next to Noah. As this was happening, Reginald Roderick Kattaning marched over to the kitchen door and slammed it shut.
“Now, class,” said Reginald Roderick Kattaning, putting on a professorial air, “we shall resume our instruction. This lesson, we will be discussing science. Scientific items, to be more precise.”
No one moved. They were all too confused to say anything.
“I will pick a student, and that student will discuss one of their experiments,” he said. Then, Reginald Roderick Kattaning moved his finger, pointing around the room as if considering who to choose. The entire time, however, his eyes were focused on just one of them.
“Why don’t we start wiiiiiiiith... you,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said, pointing at Faye. Removing a notebook from his pocket, sitting double-cross-legged at the desk, Reginald Roderick Kattaning began to write.
“Well... um...” Faye said, looking at her classmates for encouragement. Noah gestured for her to continue, and Faye said, “Well, you see, it’s really quite complicated. You see, the level of complexity that the most complicated of complications can provide...”
With Faye uttering a load of nonsense, yet keeping the intruder’s attention, Noah got Lucy’s with a subtle wave of his hand next to his desk. Lucy looked at Noah, equally as subtle. Her face, Noah could see, was as white as a sheet. “What did you say to Miss Brett?” Noah asked Lucy, trying to speak without moving his lips or making a sound, keeping one eye on the babbling coming from the front of the room.
The effect of his silent and motionless question was that Lucy had no idea what he was trying to say. Noah took his pencil and wrote his question on the piece of paper he had on his desk. He tilted the paper up so Lucy could read it.
“I had to tell her who he is,” said Lucy in a loud whisper.
“Who is he?” asked Noah, no longer trying to be silent. Jasper and Wallace turned their heads slightly to better hear what Lucy was saying.
Lucy looked at Noah, fear in her eyes.
“That man,” she whispered, pointing at Reginald Roderick Kattaning. “That man is the birdwatcher.”
THE BIG UNLESS
OR
MISS BRETT MAKES THE CALL
It had taken all of Miss Brett’s resources to remain calm as she walked out of the classroom. Lucy’s words had left a buzz in her ear. She knew there was something strange about that man. If he was official, why didn’t he even know her name? And what did it mean that this Reginald Roderick Kattaning fellow was the birdwatcher? Had he been spying on them?
Standing in the kitchen as fear settled in, Miss Brett was overwhelmed with questions. What should she do? Whatever she did, she had to be careful. Mr. Reginald Roderick Kattaning could not know she knew something was amiss. She looked around the room. She decided she had better make it look as if she was cooking lunch. She filled a large pot with water and put it on to boil. There were sacks of potatoes, onions, and rice in the larder. She grabbed a few large onions and threw them into the pot, not bothering to peel or slice them. There was no need. This was only pretend. In case Mr. Reginald Roderick Kattaning came in to check, the steamy kitchen would seem alive with lunch’s preparation.
Looking around the room again, her eyes settled on the door to the tiny room. She knew what was in there. Just behind that door was the shiny red telephone.
In the classroom, as the children pretended to be transfixed by Faye’s chatter, Reginald Roderick Kattaning, who had stopped taking notes, sat slightly cross-eyed, staring at Faye.
“And so...” Faye was running out of nonsense. “And so...”
“I’m waiting, missy,” said Reginald Roderick Kattaning, tapping one double-crossed foot against the other.
Faye swallowed hard. “Waiting?”
“Waiting for you to get to the point.”
“The point? You’re waiting to get to the point?”
“I said I am waiting,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said, a bit gruffer.
“Sorry,” Faye said, trying to sound innocent. “I must have missed the question.”
Noah leaned over to Lucy. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Lucy, her whisper cracked by a swallow that kept her from crying. “Even without his half-
moustache. It’s him.”
But Faye was no longer speaking.
“Perhaps the little whiner in the back row would like to share her whimpering whispers with the rest of us,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said with a nasty sneer.
“My sister has had a bit of a cold,” said Jasper quickly. “Surely you knew that from the note sent to the, uh, central office.”
“Well, of course I did,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning said with a wave of his bony hand. “Someone get her a handkerchief or something. Disgusting little snotty things, these... small...” With a shiver, he turned back to Faye. “Well?”
“Well,” she said, “I was born in a lovely city called—”
“I do not give an owl’s hoot about where you were born,” Reginald Roderick Kattaning growled, uncrossing his double-crossed legs and leaning forward toward Faye. “And no more of your infernal drivel. You will answer my question now.”
“Um, what was that question again?” Faye asked, hoping to stall until something better came to mind.
As the strong smell of boiling onions wafted through the kitchen and, she hoped, into the classroom, Miss Brett put her ear to the classroom door. She could hear the squeaking, growling voice of Reginald Roderick Kattaning. She then banged a few pots together and made some cooking-type noises before she tiptoed over to the tiny room where the telephone was kept.
“Blast you!” shouted Reginald Roderick Kattaning. “I want a report on the thing!”
“The thing?” asked Noah, innocently.
“The... blasted... snglrumpfrsss... grmblfrng...” Reginald Roderick Kattaning turned quite red. “The ruddy, the... the bloody thing, the thing, the pieces, the... the thing you used... and don’t any of you dare deny it... and that blasted machine that you have been so obviously busy working on and obviously successful in getting off the blasted ground! The thing!!!”
Trapped in the front row, both Wallace and Jasper suddenly wished they had brought umbrellas to shield them from the spittle that flew from the mouth of Reginald Roderick Kattaning.
The Atomic Weight of Secrets or The Arrival of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 20
