“Fred?”
“What is it, matey?” replied Fred.
“Is it you who’s been talking to me?” I asked,
“Of course it was me,” Fred said, “or ‘I,’ if you prefer. I like T myself, being a grammarian of the old school and a bird who … oh, I beg your pardon. I seem to have wandered from the subject. But, yes, I’m the one who’s been talking to you. Who else could it have been? You didn’t think you were having a conversation with yourself, did you?”
“No,” I said promptly, going strictly against my truthful scientific nature. But I could hardly admit that that’s exactly the stupid thing I was doing to this opinionated bird, pet or no pet. And it was then that yet another bulb lit up over my head. “But it could have been Caruso or Hector or Guinevere,” I said, letting this smarty-pants bird figure out for himself who they were.
“Them?” Fred said, and guffawed right in my ear. I think it was a guffaw, anyway. At least it’s as close as I can get to what a bird would do.
“What do you mean by referring to us as ‘them’ in that tone, you … you … you overbearing collection of feathers,” came an outraged voice from across the room. It was the voice of Guinevere. “You don’t have to be so high and mighty just because you sit on Rupert’s shoulder. We’ve all been here a lot longer than you have. And don’t think we didn’t see that disgraceful performance you gave last night. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, flying off to hide in your cage and leaving poor Rupert to face that crazed machine all by himself. You should have your tail feathers clipped!”
“And for your information,” Hector broke in, “Guinevere and I once performed a very useful scientific service for Rupert as a nutrition experiment.”
“So, what does a turtle do besides sun himself under a lamp all day and take a dip in his own private pool?” Fred said.
“Well, I may have never done much for science,” Caruso returned. “But I do provide entertainment to soothe the scientific brain. I’m quite a singer, you may have noticed.”
“I hadn’t,” Fred replied. “Actually, I do some singing myself. But I have other far more useful talents where Rupert is concerned. I don’t suppose you noted my helping with his math this evening?”
“Some help,” said Caruso, “moving one decimal point! I could do as much riding around on his shoulder looking down on his homework.”
“That’s a picture!” said Fred. “A turtle riding around on someone’s shoulder. How would you propose to do that?”
“I could if someone would build me a nice little basket,” said Caruso.
“A turtle riding around in a basket on someone’s shoulder!” hooted Fred. “That’s a laugh. You need to have someone look into your head and see what’s riding around in there.”
I don’t know what made me sit there listening to all this. Maybe it was just the shock of being able to actually hear my pets talking. But this had gone on long enough.
“See here, all of you,” I said sternly. “You’re all going to have to get along. Or …” I added ominously, “somebody’s going to have to go.” I waited a few tense moments for this to be digested. “Now, Hector, Guinevere, and Caruso,” I continued, “you’ve had your moments, all three of you, but you get through it and always end up friends, right?”
“Rupert’s right. We always do,” said Guinevere.
“But, Fred,” I said, “you really are going to have to stop being such a pain in the head.”
“More like a pain in the tail,” Fred said dismally “I know I can be pretty insufferable at times. I’ll try to mend my ways. I’m really sorry I hope I haven’t offended everyone too much. I do apologize.”
“There, there, that’s quite all right, dear,” said Guinevere. “We need to do some apologizing ourselves. After all, just because we’ve been here longer doesn’t give us the right to go lording over anyone. We’re glad you’re Rupert’s new pet, Fred, and we want to be your friends.”
“And I’d like to be yours,” Fred said, so overcome, he lost his grip on my shoulder and very nearly dropped on top of my math homework.
“Whew!” I said. “I’m glad that’s settled. There’s something terrifically important we have to discuss. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that here we are talking to each other. I’d like to know what you think is the reason for it.”
“Miss Switch!” Guinevere exclaimed.
“My thoughts exactly,” I said. “We can talk when Miss Switch is here.”
“Oh, Rupert, is she back?” Guinevere asked. “I’m really glad. But on the other hand, doesn’t it mean something dreadful has happened?”
“To your first question, she must be,” I replied. “But I haven’t seen her. And I can’t think of anything really terrible that’s happened. Well, our new substitute principal is so handsome all the female population of Pepperdine Elementary School is swooning over him. It’s pretty sickening, but not dangerous enough to bring Miss Switch running. Then there’s our weird new teacher, Miss Blossom. You should see that hair piled on top of her head like a huge lemon ice-cream cone, and those giant eyelashes. And her dress is nothing but a bunch of frills and bows top to bottom.”
“The dress sounds rather fetching to me,” said Guinevere. “Of course, I’m only a guinea pig, so what do I know about fashion? But have you ever stopped to think, Rupert, that Miss Blossom might be Miss Switch in disguise?”
“Oh, please!” I said, throwing a hand to my forehead. Then I added quickly because I didn’t want to hurt Guinevere’s feelings, “It’s a clever idea, but if you ever saw her, you couldn’t ask that. Besides, Miss Switch would never put up with the kind of stuff Miss Blossom lets go on right under her nose. The sixth grade is a disaster zone. And another thing, if Miss Blossom were Miss Switch, she’d have given me a sign. She always has.”
“Sounds to me like Miss Blossom might not be Miss Switch, but she could just be the reason for Miss Switch being here, if the sixth grade really is a disaster zone,” Hector said thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t think Billy Swan-son’s spitballs are enough to do it. It’s got to be something bigger than that, and I just don’t know what. But I think we all agree she’s back, only where is she, and who is she?”
There was a sudden flapping of wings in my ear, and Fred drifted down on my desk. “Well,” he said, “all I know about this Miss Switch is what I’ve heard you saying here tonight, and what—and I must apologize for this, Rupert—I’ve read in your letters to the person you call Spook, but could Miss Switch be someone else in your school? I mean, does she have to be your teacher?”
“Fred’s absolutely right, Rupert,” said Hector. “Where was it ever written that Miss Switch had to come back as a teacher? She could come back as just about anyone, couldn’t she?”
“I guess so,” I said doubtfully “The question is, who? Do you have any other ideas, Fred?”
“Nope. Sorry,” replied Fred. “I’m afraid you’re on your own. But you did say something about being given a sign. Are you sure no one you bumped into at school today was trying to do that and you missed it because you weren’t looking for it? Now, stop and think.”
I did. In my mind I ran back over myself in the cafeteria, the library, the playground, and even in the boys’ room. Nothing. I couldn’t think of anyone who looked promising, much less who’d given me any sign.
“Nobody,” I said.
“Well then,” said Guinevere, “you’ll just have to keep your eyes peeled tomorrow. But I have been wondering about something. You don’t suppose that. … that nonsense with your computer might have something to do with Miss Switch, do you?”
Well, wasn’t that exactly what I’d supposed when it had happened? Miss Blossom appearing at the sixth-grade teacher’s desk instead of Miss Switch had driven that idea out of my mind. But Fred had put a new spin on the whole thing. Maybe Miss Switch was not our teacher, but someone else entirely!
“Thanks for reminding me, Guinevere,” I sa
id. “I’m going to reenter that Web site now and see what it has to say for itself. You all know what a Web site is, don’t you?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Rupert,” said Guinevere. “I may not be a fashion expert, but I’m not entirely computer illiterate. None of us is after listening to you muttering away at your desk.”
“I’ll try to stop if you like,” I said.
“Oh, please don’t!” Hector said. “How else do you think we learn anything?”
“Compute away!” said Caruso.
“Well,” I said, “the Web site belongs to Saturna. You probably remember her. This is scary stuff. If the computer is going to put on the same crazy act it did the last time, Fred, you might want to get off my desk and retreat to your cage.”
“Not on your life!” Fred exclaimed. “Now I know I’m not going to be ground into bird meat by that machine, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“Well, okay, then,” I replied.
I turned on my computer. Then we all sat in breathless silence while it warmed up. Finally, I typed in “computowitch.”
My computer screen did exactly the same thing it did before, but this time I knew better than to touch it. I just sat there feeling old Fred’s claws digging a little harder into my shoulder. At last there it was, the word “computowitch.” I quickly added the “.com,” entered the password “SATURNA,” and saw the computowitch.com Web site appear on the screen.
But the poem had been replaced by another one, and I read it aloud to my pets.
“How very sweet
Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet,
I’ll have my chance
To howl and dance,
No one’s in sight
Except that fright,
No you know who
Is in the brew,
Bats may squeal
And vultures wheel,
But do not fear
The way is clear.”
For moments, this threw everyone in the room into deep thought. Then Fred broke the silence. “I don’t like it,” he said. “What’s all this ‘tweet, tweet, tweet’ stuff? Sounds like Saturna’s out to get me. What does she have against birds? I ask you.”
“I don’t think she has a thing against birds, Fred,” Guinevere said quickly. “What she does have, it seems to me, is no talent. At least where poetry is concerned. ‘Tweet, tweet,’ indeed!”
“I certainly agree with that,” said Caruso. “But I don’t like the sound of some of the other stuff. Howling, and dancing, and bats, and vultures. It makes my shell crawl.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t make me feel too comfortable,” I said. “Especially when you consider she’s probably referring to Pepperdine Elementary School, with me in it. But now I think there’s more reason to think that what you said earlier about Miss Switch not necessarily coming back as my teacher is dead right. Just think about it. ‘No one’s in sight/Except that fright.’ Who could ‘that fright’ be but Miss Blossom?”
“Beats us,” said Hector.
“But I’ll tell you all,” I said, “Saturna may be dead right about Miss Blossom not being Miss Switch, but she’s dead wrong about Miss Switch not knowing what might be going on. After all, look at us, talking to each other. She’s got to be here somewhere.”
“So, you’ll have to keep your eyes peeled tomorrow,” said Guinevere. “It’s going to turn out all right. I’m sure of it. Only now, Hector, Caruso, and Fred, we’d better tuck ourselves in for the night. Rupert must get his rest.”
With that, there was an immediate flapping of wings as Fred flew from my shoulder and ended up perched on the side of Caruso’s bowl. “Good night, Caruso!” he said,
“Good night, old fellow,” Caruso sang out.
Then Fred flew first to Guinevere’s and then to Hector’s cage. “Good night, you two!” he said.
“Good night, Fred!” they chorused.
But before Fred went to his cage to put himself to bed as he always did, he flew back and hopped on my shoulder. I felt a tiny peck on my cheek. “Good night, Rupert!” he said.
“Good night, Fred,” I said, and reached up to pat his head.
Then he flew off and hopped into his cage.
Moments later, after I turned out the lights, I heard something I hadn’t heard in a very long time. It was Caruso’s high little voice singing Brahms’ “Lullaby.” It was a comforting sound, and helped me to remember that I had the support of my pets in whatever might come. But even though I liked to think of myself as a fearless scientist, I really was scared. And I had to admit, I needed all the comfort I could get!
6
A Midnight Expedition
Even with the help of Caruso’s lullaby, I didn’t think I could ever get to sleep. Thoughts of all that had happened kept going round and round in my head, I finally did drop off, but I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep when I awoke with a sudden jolt. I looked at the clock by my bed. It was twelve midnight, right on the dot. I lay in my bed wondering what had awakened me. Then suddenly the picture jumped into my head. The picture became clearer, and my neck began to tingle.
What I was seeing was someone’s back. Someone with black hair in a bun. Someone in a gray dress. Someone in the library! Someone standing with her back to me, nose buried in a book, not moving an inch while I signed out my book at the desk. Just before I turned to leave, the person in the gray dress set her book back on the display shelf where she was standing. The Sorcery of Science! All at once I could even picture the very book. That must have been Miss Switch, and that was the sign! After all, Miss Switch was involved with one thing. I was involved with the other. What could be a clearer sign than that?
I knew almost at once what I had to do. I lay in bed for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, but with my skin creeping as I thought of what lay ahead. Then I slowly threw back my covers.
I decided not to turn on the light because I didn’t want to wake the pets and get them all disturbed over what I was about to undertake. But I managed to find my clothes and clanb into them. Then I grabbed my mini-flashlight from my bed table and started for the door. Before I’d reached it, however, I heard something come fluttering through the air and land squarely on my shoulder.
“What are you up to, Fred?” I whispered.
“More to the point, what are you up to?” he replied.
“I just woke up suddenly and remembered someone I saw who might be Miss Switch,” I said. “If it is, this is what she would be expecting me to do.”
“Which is?” inquired Fred.
“Meet her at Pepperdine,” I said.
“At midnight?” Fred gasped.
“That’s the usual time for this sort of thing,” I replied.
“Well, I’m going with you,” Fred said.
“What on earth for?” I asked. “This might turn dangerous.”
“Exactly,” said Fred. “That’s why I’m coming along.”
“Look, Fred,” I said, “I don’t mean to be insulting, but what could someone your size do if I got into trouble?”
“Who knows?” Fred replied. “But I can offer moral support. That’s worth something.”
I was beginning to get a stiff neck from whispering out of the side of my mouth to Fred, and I had a feeling he’d win out in the end, anyway. So I opened the door, crept out, tiptoed past my parents’ room, where they lay peacefully sleeping away, and made it to the front door. Then we set out from the house.
I have to admit it was ridiculously comforting to have Fred along with me, despite his size. There was a moon that night, but dark clouds scudded across it. They cast shadows that danced around us like crazy ghosts. But the worst was when we finally reached the Pepperdine playground. It’s one thing to be there in the broad daylight with noisy kids running around and your friends waving to you from the top of the monkey bars. But it’s a very different story at night when it’s dark and deserted, and silent. Nobody’s going down the slides. The swings aren’t moving, and the monkey bars sit there li
ke a big bony skeleton.
“Where are we headed?” Fred asked.
“The library,” I replied. “It’s way at the end of the building. I would guess that’s where she’d be, anyway, with her … oops!”
“What’s that ‘oops’ mean, Rupert?” Fred asked. “I don’t like the sound of it.”
“I forgot,” I said. “Miss Switch may have her cat Bathsheba with her. She usually does.”
“C-C-C-Cat?” quavered Fred, his little beak chattering. “You never mentioned a cat.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “But honestly, I just didn’t think of it. Anyway, whose idea was it to come with me—insisted on it, actually?”
“I didn’t know there was a c-c-c-cat involved,” Fred said. “Your jacket doesn’t have a bird-sized pocket in it by any chance, does it?”
“Several that you’d fit right into,” I replied. “Are you ready to go in now? We’re just about there.”
“I kind of wanted to see this Miss Switch,” said Fred. “But maybe I’d better go into hiding until you see who’s with her. I can always come out later if it’s safe. But could I have an assist, please?”
I reached up, wrapped my fingers around him, and gently stuffed him into one of my pockets. “Do you want to be zipped in?” I asked.
“Not necessary just yet,” came the muffled voice from my pocket. “Hey, I really like it in here. Nice and cozy.”
“That’s good,” I said. I missed having him on my shoulder, but I had to respect his feelings about Bathsheba. In his position, my feelings would have been exactly the same.
At any rate, by now we had arrived at what I knew was the library. Its big, dark windows reached all around the end of the building. Its big, very dark windows. The reflection from the moon appeared on them, disappeared, then reappeared again as the clouds blew across it. I couldn’t help shuddering as I watched them.
Miss Switch Online Page 3
