Extraordinary Losers 3

by Jessica Alejandro

  “Yes, we are very sure! He has been gone for about an hour already!” I yelled from the top of the steps. Some students laughed when they heard that.

  “An hour? You gotta be kidding us! You can’t claim someone is missing unless they have been gone for hours!” Leonard said.

  “We know that!” Clandestino retorted. “But Mundi is not like that! He would not just run off like that!”

  “How do you know?” Leonard sniggered. “Are you part of his nerdy brain?”

  Janice’s face became redder. She wasn’t good with confrontations. “Let’s stop arguing! Every second wasted might cost Mundi his life!”

  Clandestino whipped out his sleek iPhone 5 like a weapon. “Let me call him!” He dialled and waited. “It is ringing but no one is picking it up!” He ended the call.

  “Where is his school bag?” Janice asked.

  “Over there,” I pointed to a squarish elephantine bag. A typical Mundi. It was a blue bag with numbers and equations emblazoned all over it. Probably a souvenir from the Einstein Museum. I unzipped the bag quickly. Mundi had all his books neatly arranged even though it wasn’t a typical school day. Nerd alert. Then to my surprise, I saw an old Nokia handphone.

  “Now we know why he didn’t answer,” I said. “His phone is not even with him!”

  Mr Grosse and Madam Siti marched up to us with grave looks on their faces. Quickly, Clandestino slid Mundi’s phone into his pocket.

  “Does anyone here know what is Mundi’s home phone number?” Madam Siti asked in a calm voice. “My records are in the office and it is too far to walk all the way there.”

  Janice thought for a while. “Yes… wait… maybe…” She took out a little notebook which she kept in her pocket. Then she flipped through the pages quickly, almost hyperventilating. I could hear her anxious breaths going in and out of her mouth. Of course, one could also discern the amount of donuts she had eaten that morning. I could smell tiramisu, strawberry and even garlic? Very weird. Focus, Darryl, focus! We peered over Janice. She was taking forever to locate the number.

  Finally, she announced, “There! Cutest Geek – Home. It’s 655… ”

  Mr Grosse raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” he said as he punched the keys on his handphone.

  Then he whispered into Madam Siti’s ear, “Someone might want him for his brains.”

  “Or maybe he just got lost,” Madam Siti said, trying to be optimistic.

  While the phone was ringing, I leaned over to Janice. “If Mundi is named Cutest Geek, then what names did you give Clan and I?”

  She snapped the book shut and beamed bashfully. “Well, you, Darryl, are Dreamy Dude and Clandestino is Handsome He… oops. Nothing.”

  “Handsome?” I repeated.

  Clandestino spun around. He wasn’t sure if he had heard Janice correctly. No one had ever called him handsome before. Not with his drippy nose, itchy skin and oddly chopped hair. He smiled and then looked away, pretending not to hear our conversation. I was sure he had made a mental note to check with Janice again.

  Just then, our conversation was interrupted.

  “Hello? Is that Mrs Sakdipa?” Mr Grosse asked swiftly. “Yes, your son, Mundi, has well… sort of… well… disappeared from the sports stadium. No fault of ours at all. We are usually careful with our students. Anyway, is he at home already?”

  Then there was silence. He seemed to be receiving an earful from Mundi’s mother.

  “Uh huh. I see.” He nodded. “Hello? Hello?” Mundi’s mum had ended the call. Mr Grosse’s face took on a strange pallor. He looked at Madam Siti and then at all of us.

  “Mundi’s mother is very distressed. She is coming to the school. Apparently, she has just received a call from a Chinese man saying that they have Mundi and they want $100,000. If not they would… they would…”

  “They would what?” Janice was hyperventilating. “What would they do?” She jumped up and down.

  Mr Grosse knew it would traumatise us if he told us the truth, so he turned to Madam Siti and whispered, “They would kill him.”

  Madam Siti shifted her tortoise-shell spectacles, pretending to keep her cool. But I had heard every single word. It was too much for me to stomach… I felt like I was about to throw up my Milo.

  CHAPTER 6: THE VAN THAT NEVER EXISTED

  Thanks, children,” Madam Siti said. “Now, it’s time for you to go back to your class! Mundi’s parents are on their way here.”

  Mr Grosse eyeballed all of us. “Any other information you may have? If not, we’ll take it from here.”

  “But we think we can help to find Mundi,” I said, refusing to leave.

  “Yes, we really can!” Janice pleaded in desperation. “Please, sir?”

  Mr Grosse pondered for a while and said, “No, you have to go back to class. And Clandestino?”

  “Yes?” Clandestino sniffed.

  “Please wear your shoes!”

  “But they have glue on them,” Clandestino said.

  “Glue?”

  “Yes. Glue. Someone tried to sabotage me during the race. I believe it was Leonard and…”

  “Okay, okay,” Mr Grosse interrupted. “You can tell us about that later. AFTER we have found Mundi.”

  Madam Siti agreed. “This is not the time! We have to look into Mundi’s case! Go and wash them and wear them. I don’t want you walking around barefoot in school.”

  We watched Clandestino flick his socks wildly and slip on his shoes reluctantly. We accompanied him to wash his shoes. He decided that he was going to wash only one shoe to appease the teachers, but would keep the other as evidence. Anyway, the glue had dried up by now and it wouldn’t really affect his walking. Janice waited outside the boys’ toilet while we cleaned the shoe.

  After half an hour of loitering in the toilet, we decided to return to class. Unfortunately, all that time-wasting had only caused us to miss one lesson. There was still time for the last period. Just as we were going back, we saw a silver car pull up at the carpark. A lady in a dark blue sari rushed out of the car, looking distressed.

  “Look, that’s Mundi’s mother. Let’s say hi.” Clandestino ran towards the car and we followed suit.

  Behind the woman, another man stepped out. Mundi had mentioned that his father was on an overseas business trip so it couldn’t be him.

  And this man did not resemble Mundi in any way. In fact, he was the handsomest man I had ever seen. With his chocolate-black wavy hair and mesmerising brown eyes, he looked like he came right out of Bollywood. His sharp Roman nose complemented his perfectly chiselled cheekbones. A peppered stubble framed his manly jaw. As if this wasn’t enough, this masterpiece of a face stood on broad wrestler shoulders.

  I thought I saw Madam Siti arrange her hair a little when she saw him. Was this her chance to finally meet Mr Right? Even Mr Grosse began to straighten his shirt in nervousness.

  We stopped right in front of the car to greet the two distraught persons.

  “Hi… er, I am Mr Grosse.”

  “I am Madam Siti.”

  “I am Mundi’s mother and this is his uncle, Uncle Gofin,” Mundi’s mother said in a shaky voice.

  “I’m Clandestino,” Clandestino butted in.

  “I’m Janice. Mundi’s best friend, well sorta… we always hang out together…”

  I elbowed Janice. She stopped.

  “Darryl De.” I finished the introductions.

  “Where’s my son? My one and only son?” Mundi’s mother wailed dramatically. “How did the school let this happen to him?”

  “Mrs Sakdipa, your son was last seen with these three children,” said Madam Siti.

  “You are Mundi’s uncle?” I said to the man, still in awe of his looks.

  He wasn’t smiling. “I am his uncle. His father’s best friend. Mundi is my godson. What happened to him?” Anxiety was coursing through his movie-star face.

  Janice leaned over to me and whispered, “Mundi never told us he had such a dashing uncle.”

  “Uh hu
h,” I said, examining Uncle Gofin from head to toe.

  Both he and Mundi’s mother were visibly distressed. In fact, Mrs Sakdipa looked as though she was going to collapse, and Uncle Gofin had to hold her up firmly.

  Clandestino saw it fit to comfort Mundi’s mother as well. “Er… Mrs Sakdipa, I am sure your son is alright. We will find him.”

  But the words of an 11-year-old were lost in the thick air of adult tension.

  “Can we know when he was last seen?” Uncle Gofin asked again. “I came here for a holiday to spend time with my godson and now this has to happen. Unbelievable.” He ran his fingers through his velvety hair.

  Janice spoke up. “Well, it was at the stadium, after Clandestino lost the race. Of course, you know by now he didn’t really lose as someone had sabotaged him by pouring glue on the track…”

  Mundi’s mother and uncle were growing impatient. “Just tell us quickly!” his mother cried out, squirting saliva on us.

  “Okay. I asked him to go and get a cup of Milo to cheer Clandestino up.”

  Uncle Gofin shot her a stern look. “You are the one who asked him to get Milo? Why? Making him do things for you, is it?”

  Clandestino stepped in. “It is not what you think. The Milo van was parked in school. Who would have thought something would happen to him?”

  “The next thing we knew, an hour had passed and he never returned!” I said.

  “So it is your fault that my godson is lost?” Mundi’s uncle questioned Janice again, rolling up the sleeves of his cardigan.

  Janice wiped away a tear in her eye. “Silly me! It is all my fault! I should never have asked him to leave!”

  Mundi’s mother suddenly saw hope. “Wait, wait, wait. A Milo van?”

  We all caught on to what she meant.

  “Let us start by calling the Milo company and track down the van that came to Brightstar Primary today!” Madam Siti said, quickly Googling the number of the Milo office on her phone.

  “Hello? Is this Milo Singapore? Can I have the name of the driver who delivered Milo to Brightstar Primary School today?”

  We waited while she listened to the response.

  “What do you mean there is no such delivery service anymore? Stopped in the 1990s? Are you sure? We had someone come to our school to deliver Milo to our kids as it was Sports Day today.”

  Mundi’s uncle shook his head profusely and clenched his fists in annoyance.

  Madam Siti clasped her handphone and whispered to Mr Grosse, “Did you call Milo to deliver free drinks today?”

  “Me? Certainly not! I thought it was you or Mrs Priya who did it!”

  She turned her attention to her phone again. “So you guys really do NOT deliver cold Milo to schools anymore? Okay then, thanks.” She punched the disconnect button on her phone and sighed.

  Uncle Gofin spat out, “What kind of school is this?” He frowned at Mrs Sakdipa. “You send Mundi to this school? They don’t even know what is happening!”

  “Who called Milo?” Madam Siti muttered. I could almost hear her thoughts.

  “If no one called them, and the van wasn’t from Milo…” I thought aloud. “After all, I didn’t see any logo on the van.”

  “Oh no! Someone must have pretended to be from the Milo company and deceived us.” Mr Grosse saw red. “And I thought the principal had arranged for the drinks to be distributed to the children.”

  Mundi’s uncle was listening intently to the whole conversation. “You mean someone abducted my godson from right under your noses?”

  It was really awkward that he chose to use the word nose, since his nose was protruding from every angle. “When we find Mundi, we will take him out of this school!” His eyebrows wiggled and his face creased disturbingly.

  Don’t mess with the uncle, I thought. He is a tough man.

  Madam Siti said, “Where’s that guard, Mr Andy? He shouldn’t have let the unauthorised van in. He is going to be sacked!”

  “Yes, definitely!” Mr Grosse seconded. “Let us go and look for that clumsy old man! See if he knows anything!”

  At that moment, a Hindi song broke out. It had a catchy beat and I caught Janice gyrating her hips to the upbeat tempo. It was Mrs Sakdipa’s phone. She dug into her deep bag to retrieve her phone.

  “Where is it? Where is it?” She panicked. When she finally found it, she took it out. “UNKNOWN.” She sniffed. “Let’s hope it is my husband…”

  “H-H-Hello. Yes?” She hesitated. As she listened intently, clasping the phone with shaky hands, a frown broke across her forehead.

  “Jurong, 10 Jalan Pempin? Okay, Okay. We are coming now. Please do not hurt my… Hello? Hello? Mundi? Mundi baby?” Then she looked at us, her lips quivering and her face glistening with freshly shed tears.

  She swallowed her panic and then said, “We have to go now. It is that Chinese man again. They want $100,000. Mundi is at Jurong, 10 Jalan Pempin.”

  “Not a good idea. We need to go to the police station first,” Mr Grosse concluded.

  Uncle Gofin turned to Mrs Sakdipa. “Don’t worry, we will find our precious Mundi,” he assured her.

  Madam Siti shook her head in distress and then eyeballed us and decided that we wouldn’t have any part in this case from now on. “The three of you get back to class like the rest of the kids! We are going to the police station and then look for Mundi.”

  When the distressed mother, the enraged uncle and the two embarrassed teachers left, Clandestino leaned over to Janice and said, “They won’t find Uncle Andy.”

  “Why?” Janice gasped.

  “He is not at his guard post. When I combed the school in search of Mundi just now, his guard post was empty. The fan was on, but he wasn’t there!”

  Janice gulped in fear. “Where could Mundi be? With Uncle Andy? He’s the kidnapper?”

  CHAPTER 7: THE SILENT LULLABY

  Pp-pp-pwee!” Mundi spat after taking two mouthfuls of the cold rice, remembering the advice his parents had always given him, “NEVER TAKE FOOD FROM STRANGERS!”

  How could he have forgotten that? Any food and drink from strangers might be drugged and the next thing you knew you could be lying unconscious.

  He made himself gag, forcing as much of the rice out as he could.

  “Phew, th-th-th that w-w-w-as a close one, n-n-n-no?” He coughed. His stutter had worsened with his fear. “S-s-s-silly m-m-m-e, n-n-n-o?”

  Mundi’s hands were still tightly bound behind him. He groped for the watch on his wrist with his fingers. He was thankful he had it.

  “I m-m-must m-m-make c-c-ontact, n-no? For s-s-someone to c-c-come and s-s-save m-me,” he mumbled. But what if someone caught him texting on his wristwatch phone? Whom should he contact? His mother or his friends? An avalanche of questions assailed him.

  “I h-h-have o-o-only one ch-ch-chance, n-no?” Mundi mumbled through his chattering teeth.

  Unknown to his kidnappers, Mundi had a special ability – he was a math genius and as a result he saw everything in numbers. He could tap on the calculator without even looking at it. When others his age were still teething, he had already mastered the calculator and the number pad. This time, it was no different. He knew where each number was on his watch phone. And he knew the letters on each number key.

  Quickly, he started piecing together his message, recalling the seconds he counted and the speed of the van he was travelling in. “Right, at 60km/h, 29 seconds straight. Traffic light, straight 138 seconds. Left turn, 136 seconds…”

  As soon as he started tapping on his watch phone, he heard a voice outside.

  “Is the boy asleep yet?” It was a gruff voice. It belonged to a man.

  “He should be,” a woman replied. “I gave him the curry rice drugged with the sedative already.”

  “The se-se-se-sedative?” Mundi cringed. “Oh n-n-no, am I-I-I going to-to sl-sl-sleep soon, n-n-no?” He yawned.

  The door creaked open. Mundi quickly closed his eyes and leaned backwards, pretending to sleep.
<
br />   “Yes, see… he is fast asleep,” the woman remarked. “Let’s call that man to come and get him so we can get the money and get out of here!”

  They shut the door. Mundi opened his eyes. He knew he had to compose his message fast. Quickly, he keyed in the letters and numbers one by one. The more he keyed, the dizzier he felt.

  How can I feel sleepy? I didn’t eat much of the rice at all, no? he thought.

  His eyelids felt heavier and heavier. But Mundi fought hard. He bit his tongue to keep himself awake.

  “Fo-cus, M-M-Mundi,” he slurred and stammered. His hands felt so weak. He summoned every ounce of strength he had. He felt his consciousness leaving him. Numbers flashed through his complex brain and soon he was multiplying and subtracting random numbers that didn’t even make sense.

  He had almost finished his text when he decided, “I think I-I-I ha-ha-ha-have to-to send it, n-n-now.” He blinked hard one last time. With his thumb, he punched “Send”, and then his fingers relaxed and he leaned backwards and slumped in the chair with his eyes closed. For real this time.

  CHAPTER 8: IT’S A CONSPIRACY

  Back in class, we received all kinds of looks, like we were responsible for losing the race. And now we had lost Mundi? Miss Jacobs, our Math teacher, was halfway through the class and this time she was talking about balloons.

  “Mr Tan gave 350 balloons to Mr Chua and he gave another 45% to Mr Boon…” she read from the Math textbook. Usually, I would be yawning by now. Just the thought of old men giving kiddie balloons to each another was enough to send me off to dreamland. But today was different. My mind was on Mundi and Mundi alone.

  Was he being tortured at this very moment? Who would want to take him? Could Mr Grosse have been right? Could someone have kidnapped him for his brains? And if that someone had found out about his ability, were the rest of us safe? What about Clandestino? Hadn’t Clan mentioned something about hiding his ability from some bad men? Could they have been the ones who took Mundi, and now, Clandestino was next? That was a worrying thought.

  “Class, please pay attention, your common test is coming so we have to get your percentage and ratios right,” Miss Jacobs nagged. “I expect the test is going to be incredibly difficult.”