Googol Boy and the peculiar incident of the Great Quiz Trophy

by John Michael

  “But vee vould all drift off into space Lenny,” declared Mr Klopsberg.

  “That’s right... space! I just saw this thing on TV yesterday about astronauts in space and they... ah... couldn’t even poop properly because they didn’t have gravity. They used these special bags and tubes and... ah... if we didn’t have gravity our poop would just... ah... float about in the air around you and... ah... I guess we... ah... do need gravity after all. Yes! I’ve changed my mind but... talking about poop... ah... did I tell you about the time I ate four lasagnes and I clogged up the −”

  “That is enough Mr Lenotti! Go back to your seat!” snapped Mr Klopsberg. Lenny finished with a big frown on his face and trudged back to his desk. For the rest of us, there was stunned silence. Even Mr Klopsberg was briefly lost for words... but only briefly.

  “Mein Gott Lenny! That was schrecklich... even for you! Now sit yourself down!”

  Mr Klopsberg glanced around the room, he pushed his glasses further up his nose and then, without rhyme nor reason, he looked directly at me with those unblinking iceblue eyes.

  “Howard! Up next!”

  Bummer!

  My pulse was racing, I felt beads of sweat condensing on my brow, not only would my speech be terrible but it was actually going to be worse than Lazy Lenny’s.

  “Think Howard... think!” I told myself. “Try to think back to what you wrote last night -that stuff was gold!”

  I looked around the room − the faces of the students revealing a mixture of pity and relief. Pity that I was about to make a fool of myself and relief that it wasn’t them up here.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to visualise my speech when, suddenly, my brain started whirring − I could feel the cogs turning and that’s when I saw it, it was in my mind’s eye and appeared as vividly as if I was holding it in my hand. The biggest surprise was that it was nothing like my original speech... but beggars can’t be choosers, so I went with what I had and hoped for the best.

  “Mr Klopsberg, fellow students, today I will be speaking about photosynthesis. The word photosynthesis comes from Greek and means “light” and “putting together.” This is the process used by plants where the energy from sunlight is used to produce sugars which are formed from carbon dioxide and water. The end result is the production of oxygen, which is released from the leaves into the atmosphere, it is this very same oxygen which we all need to function and survive. Photosynthesis takes place within the very small cells in the leaves of plants. Inside these cells are tiny structures called chloroplasts and each one contains a green chemical called chlorophyll which gives leaves their green colour. Thylakoid membranes within these chloroplasts contain tiny proteins which play an important role in this harvesting of sunlight. Chlorophyll absorbs the sun’s energy and it is this energy that is used to split water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen.

  If it wasn’t for photosynthesis, not one of us would be here today as we wouldn’t have the oxygen that we need to stay alive. Thank you for listening.”

  I looked around the class and every student was staring at me with their mouths open. I then turned to face Mr Klopsberg who also appeared to be somewhat baffled. He just kept staring at me with those unblinking eyes and it was difficult to read his expression. After a good minute, he finally stirred and cleared his throat as he stood up from his chair.

  “Ja... vell done Mr Zootfell. That was zee best speech I have ever heard on photosynthesis... and I have listened to zee esteemed biologist, Professor Ludwig von Presswurst, at zee Max Planck Institute in Dresden.”

  Mr Klopsberg started a slow clap and the rest of the students joined in.

  “Howard, finally you are not a useless head of cabbage after all!”

  “Ah... thanks Mr Klopsberg,” I responded absent-mindedly while trying to figure out if I had just been insulted by the teacher.

  Before I had time to reflect on what had just happened, the bell rang and it was time for recess.

  Chapter five

  doodackie

  Barney and I exited the class and were hurrying to the nearest bench to have some food before our next lesson. This entire exercise usually involved us wolfing down our snacks and, in between bites, talking about nothing in particular. Today, however, I wasn’t that hungry as I was still trying to get my head around my Science speech... not that the carrot and jar of mustard in my bag were particularly enticing. Barney could sense something wasn’t right and broke the lingering silence.

  “Good speech Howie,” he mumbled between a mouthful of Oreos.

  “Oh, thanks Barney... which part did you like best?”

  He offered me an Oreo but I shook my head.

  “Um... I dunno... I don’t think I understood what you were talking about... but Mr Klopsberg loved it!”

  “I guess he did... I shouldn’t complain... it could have been a lot worse.”

  “It was like the last stretch of the 4th innings of the Colton Finals two years ago. Trailing 3-1 but then, Baynard Mosey, the number 3 ranked pitcher tossed a scoreless innings and went on to ride a four-run top to a complete game with four strikeouts and a 4-3 win.”

  I wasn’t sure what Barney meant exactly but he would often draw links to sports in order to make sense of a situation.

  “Yeah Barn... I guess you’re right.”

  He polished off the last Oreo and scrunched up the wrapper and aimed at the nearest bin. As was often the case, he provided some running commentary to make it sound like he was in the playoffs of the National Titles.

  “...and with three seconds on the clock Barney ‘the bullet’ Barwick could win the championships! He takes aim! He shoots for the basket! It goes long and...”

  Of course, Barney missed... actually the scrunched-up wrapper wasn’t even close to the bin.

  “Ooooh... that was so close Howie! So close! Did you see that?! Another centimetre and I would have –”

  Barney never got to finish his sentence.

  “Hey watcha think yer doin’ boy?” queried a strange voice from the woods.

  We both looked around in surprise. It was the school groundskeeper; he was behind a large oak tree sprinkling fertiliser from a hessian bag. His leathery face was scrunched up in a grimace and to emphasise his disappointment he stood there with one hand on his hip. He was a hunched little man with a hump on his back, with squinty dark eyes and receding black hair. He had been at the school as long as anybody could remember and everyone simply called him Red. Little was known about his background, even the origins of his nickname were a mystery. He didn’t have red hair, he didn’t wear red clothes, he didn’t drive a red car, perhaps he got the name because of his fiery temper. The groundskeeper certainly was a surly individual, always muttering and grumbling to himself, and he had a short fuse − he would shout at students at the drop of a hat. And it didn’t take much of a reason − loud chatter, loitering, and especially littering.

  Generally, students tried to avoid Red at all costs as it was commonly accepted that he was nuttier than squirrel poop under a pecan tree. I tried to distance myself from Barney by edging a few inches away from him on the bench. My day had been complicated enough as it was, I didn’t need extra grief from the groundskeeper. Besides, Barney really sucked at shooting litter into the bins − I couldn’t recall even one time that he had been successful.

  Red ambled over to Barney with a slight limp in his step. He was wearing his trademark blue overalls and thrust his thumbs under the suspenders as he puffed his chest out. The groundskeeper had a pronounced horseshoe imprint on his forehead, some said that it was a lucky birthmark while others believed that he had been kicked in the head by a mule when he was a youngster. Not to be mean, but I had my money on the latter diagnosis as just one look at Red would suggest that he had been beaten by the ugly stick and looked like a guy who had trouble tying his own shoelaces... so, in my books, he was anything but lucky.

  “Yer gots ta pick that rubbish up!” snarled the groundskeeper.

/>   Barney immediately got off the bench and walked towards the discarded litter. “Sorry Mr Red,” he mumbled in a contrite whisper.

  Barney certainly didn’t want to make the groundskeeper more angry than he already was, there had been instances where he would chase students around the playground with his rake if they had disobeyed him or were disrespectful.

  “Whatcha thinks this is boy? Some kinda doodackie?”

  “No sir... I don’t think this is a doodackie,” answered Barney as he placed the rubbish carefully in the bin.

  “And no more of yer tarradiddles boy!”

  Barney stood there shuffling his feet. “No... no more tarradiddles,” he murmured.

  “What’s that boy? I cants hear yer!”

  “Yes sir, Mr Red,” replied Barney.

  “Harrumph!” snorted the groundskeeper as if he was trying to dislodge a furball from his throat.

  Barney and I watched Red as he left in a huff, muttering to himself as he continued sprinkling the fertiliser from his hessian bag as he scuttled across the lawn and over the hill.

  “Howard?”

  “Yes Barney?

  “What are doodackies and tarradiddles?”

  Not that I had any idea about doodackies or tarradiddles but before I could even contemplate a response, a lone figure materialised in front of us in the form of a shadowy outline. Had Red come back to torment Barney a little more? The sun was behind the figure and a dark shadow hovered over us like a looming spectre.* Perhaps it wasn’t Red, maybe this was a lunch money shakedown – it would be one of the usual suspects: Lazy Lenny, Fergus the Fist or Marsden Post. My money was on Lenny; he had just been ridiculed in class and wanted to settle a few scores.

  I looked up, expecting the worst, and was rather surprised... it was Savani Godfrey. She moved to one side with her arms akimbo, and it was then that I noticed that she had a band of followers behind her.

  “Well, well, well!” uttered Savani.

  To be honest, I was at a bit of a loss as to why Savani wanted to talk to us. Still, I would take her over Lenny, Fergus or Marsden any day of the week. Lenny had paid us a visit a few days ago and because we didn’t have any lunch money he gave us each a wedgie which left us waddling around like ducks.

  Barney and I looked at each other. What could Savani possibly want? She was way too small to be a bully but there was something about the expression on her face... it was a cross between having eaten a bad egg sandwich and just having found out that you had fleas.

  “If it isn’t Howard Sootfell in the flesh?”

  “Yep... that’s my name, don’t wear it out.” I tried to sound cool but, judging from Savani’s reaction, it wasn’t working. Her dark eyes settled on me and she gave me an ice-cold stare, her short-cropped hair made her look like an angry raccoon. It was obvious that this wasn’t a social visit, we didn’t even move in the same circles. Actually, Barney and I didn’t even move in circles, it was more like a straight line − going to school and travelling back home. Come to think of it, this was the first time Savani had even talked to me. She was the School Dux, Chess Champion, Spelling Bee Winner, Band Leader, Fencing Titleholder, and to top it all off, she was also Captain of the Debating Team.

  Barney intervened. “You’re Savani aren’t you?” The group behind her chuckled loudly, I had a feeling that their laughter had a mocking tone. I took a closer look at the gang and that’s when I noticed that it was Savani’s debating team.

  She adjusted her oversized glasses and scrutinised me closely, as if she was examining an insect in a jar, she then looked at Barney, then back to me again.

  “My goodness... it’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum!” Savani snickered and her gang of debaters followed suit and chuckled heartedly. “They probably think that calling them Tweedledee and Tweedledum is a compliment.”

  At that very moment, the cogs in my brain started whirring again and before I knew it, my mouth was moving.

  “Actually, Tweedledum and Tweedledee come from an old English nursery rhyme and these two portly brothers were later used in Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass where they are presented identical in speech, attitude, and appearance. These names are used in an unfriendly fashion to poke fun at others. And, as it happens, they are referred to as Tweedledum and Tweedledee in the poem, rather than the reverse order.”

  For a moment or two Savani looked a tad perplexed but then annoyance took over. “How dare you patronise me? Do you NOT think that I am familiar with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, I mean Tweedledum and Tweedledee? Oh! I mean Alice in Wonderland!” She fumed as her face became flushed with anger.

  I could see that this entire meeting was getting off to a bad start and I attempted to calm things down. “Now Savani, I didn’t mean to –”

  “You? You didn’t mean to?”

  “Huh? Now look –”

  “No! You look!” she snapped. “Nobody outshines Savani... especially a nobody like you Sootfell!”

  “Nobody!” echoed her gang of debaters.

  “Outshines?” I queried, not having a clue as to what she was talking about.

  At this stage, I could tell that she was getting even more irritated. Although small in stature, she was rather feisty and to further emphasise her annoyance, she poked me in the chest with her finger. “That’s right! Nobody!” she repeated.

  “Let’s get out of here Howie,” whispered Barney with a slight quiver in his voice. “I don't like the look of these debaters.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” shouted Savani. For a small girl, she certainly had a loud voice.

  “What’s this about?” I asked.

  “What’s this about?” she scoffed in a condescending tone. “You, Mr Sootfell... cheated!” She then jabbed me in the chest again with her small bony finger.

  “Cheated? How? When? What do you mean?”

  “The Science speech... don’t play dumb with me Howard! Do you really think that you could outshine me and get away with it?”

  “I... ah... well I didn’t mean to –”

  “Silence! I bet your mum wrote that speech for you!”

  “Huh? My mum? Um... no... she took away my Pacman and my cookies –”

  “Stop talking gibberish Sootfell!”

  “Let me explain, I started to write the speech and then there was this –”

  “Save it for your funeral Howard! I shall be satisfied.”

  Before I realised what was going on, Savani pulled out a black leather glove from her pocket and slapped my cheek with it. I was too dumbstruck to respond.

  “As you know, the annual Great Quiz at the Founding Festival is on next week... you and me Howard. We shall see who will prevail!”

  “The Great Quiz?”

  “Yes you dunderhead − I have won The Great Quiz two years in a row and plan to make it three! My name will once again be engraved on that trophy!”

  The Great Quiz stemmed back to Ezekiel Quockingpoll’s decision to send his most worthy child to school − he had 28 children and that might seem a lot today but in the olden days children were a great source of cheap labour and Ezekiel needed them to run his chain of brabbensack restaurants. Who else was going to bake, batter, barbeque, blanch, boil, broil, fricassee, grill, pickle, poach, roast, steam, stew, stir-fry all them brabbensacks?

  Another reason Ezekiel liked to keep the running of the restaurants within the family was that he was fearful of rivals who wanted to steal his recipe of eleven secret herbs and spices which made his brabbensacks so finger lickin’ good. Surprisingly, all of the 28 children gave it their all during the Great Quiz battle and it was quite a tenacious encounter as they fought tooth and nail to the very end. I know what you’re thinking, why would you bother to win if the first prize was to go to school? When we learnt about this in History class, none of us could figure it out either − we all agreed that the first prize of going to school would have been the biggest disincentive ever! Well, all of us except Savani.

  As it turned out, working
in the brabbensack restaurants was even worse than going to school. You might have thought that Oliver Twist had it bad but Ezekiel’s children had to work 18 hour days: they had to get up before sunrise to milk the cows and gather the eggs, chop the kindling and light the fire, grind the fat and prepare the lard, knead the dough and bake the bread, wash the dishes and all the utensils, scrub and rinse the pots and pans, slice and dice the vegetables, prepare and cook the meat, and clean and polish the tables and floors.

  It wasn’t until some time later that Lord Shaftesbury came to the rescue. Although a regular customer at the brabbensack restaurants, he was also a staunch supporter of children’s rights. The turning point occurred for Lord Shaftesbury when he had ordered black bean brabbensack but got braised brabbensack belly instead. Perhaps he could have let that single mistake slide but then, in his food, he found a bandage... attached to a severed finger! Only a child servant who was super-duper tired could have made such a horrendous mistake like chopping off their own pinkie. Consequently, he became an instrumental force in pushing through the Ten Hours Act of 1833 in parliament, which limited working hours and made school compulsory for all children under thirteen.

  It would be an understatement to say that Ezekiel was furious, and as an act of retribution he subsequently banned Lord Shaftesbury from all of his Brabbensack Grill Shack restaurants. Lord Shaftesbury, however, wasn’t all that perturbed − he even lost a few pounds when he stopped eating Ezekiel’s fast food and, as a related bonus, was spared the bubonic plague, which mostly inflicted the Grill Shack patrons. More importantly, he was able to hold his head up high in town, knowing that he had done the right thing. So, I guess that you could say that it was Shaftesbury’s fault that compulsory schooling came into existence. To this day, he is a historical figure who is admired by teachers and parents alike, and disliked by every school student ever (except for Savani, that is).