“I honestly thought his head was going to explode.” I chuckled. “But I kinda thought mine would too.”
“You three have seemed so stressed lately, you could use a little fun. Especially after the incident in the woods,” she said. I nodded heavy nods. She wasn’t wrong. “Now, tell me how you want me to help. I’ll be your sous-chef. What’s on the menu?”
In no time, the two of us were heating up plates and putting them on Andy, calling out each dish as we did. Soon there must have been thirty people crammed into our dining room and singing at the top of their lungs as they stuffed their faces. Meanwhile we got to work on jibarito sandwiches, a sandwich superior to all other sandwiches because instead of bread, you use—wait for it…TOSTONES. Yeah, double-fried plantains as a bun with meat, lettuce, tomato, and mayo inside. If great food made heads explode, this would bomb your brains.
“Don’t these people understand the nature of circadian rhythms?” Wiki moaned as Aunt Nancy and I flipped tostones. “It’s detrimental to one’s health to be awoken and roused at this time of night. The music alone will make sleep nearly impossible for hours afterward.”
“Eat, Wiki! Before it’s all gone,” Dad said as he walked by. “The shrimp that falls asleep gets taken by the current.” Wiki raised an eyebrow—huh? Aunt Nancy winked at Dad and they laughed.
“Here, help me carry this,” I said to Wiki as he made a face at me. Between the two of us we heaved out the mammoth plate of sandwiches and laid it in the middle of Andy, who must have been sagging under the weight of all the food plus two guys with guitars sitting on him as they led the sing-alongs.
I headed back to the semi-quiet kitchen to clean up some of the mess. Aunt Nancy was already washing the pans, humming a Caribbean song to herself, and smiling that trademark wicked smile as she did a little dance. When she saw me she clapped loudly. “Javier Santiago, the hero of the parranda! Three cheers for the hero!”
Hero. I was hardly a hero. Wait…a hero! It hit me like a ton of bricks. No, harder than that. It hit me like a giant dump truck carrying ten tons of bricks, driven by two extra-chunky hippos. “How else do you face the baddest bad guy of all time? With the bestest good guy of all time!” I whispered to myself. I hugged a surprised Aunt Nancy and raced out of the kitchen to find Wiki and Brady.
“Okay, guys, I’ve got it. The way we defeat the pirate.” I’d dragged them up to my room to explain my plan. “Think about it. You keep saying that Beardo is the worst villain of all time. Well, I’ve read enough comics to know that the only surefire way to defeat an epic villain is with an epic hero.” I smiled triumphantly, but they both looked annoyed.
“Summon a hero? Javi, I literally had that idea the day after we summoned Blackbeard,” Brady said. “Wiki shot it down because he thinks summoning anyone else is the worst idea.” Wiki nodded at Brady, then rolled his eyes at me. “That’s why I gave the bell to the principal.”
“You don’t get it,” I said. “Guys, if Principal Gale summoned Frida Kahlo, then I’m sure there are other historical folks at our school. And I bet there’s someone there who can face Freakbeard and win. We just need to find them.”
Wiki curled his hands slowly into fists in front of his face, his favorite thing to do when he was super frustrated. “Javi, enough is enough. For the last time, there aren’t famous knights and samurai warriors and heroes of yore wandering the halls of Finistere. Ms. Calderon isn’t Frida Kahlo. In fact, if you mention Frida Kahlo one more time, my head will actually explode.”
CRASH! Something heavy shattered on the dining room floor. We all gasped, then peeked out of my room to see shattered glass. Dad’s favorite vase.
The music stopped instantly, and everyone got really quiet. As wild as parrandas can get, you’re not supposed to actually destroy someone’s house at one. Dad’s friends all looked over at him. For a good five seconds he stared at the shattered glass, horrified. Then he looked up at his buddies and…shrugged?
“On to the next house!” someone said. “Vamonos, amigos! Asalto! Asalto!”
His friends all cheered, and they paraded out of the house singing at the top of their lungs. My dad waved to them from the door, explaining that he couldn’t just abandon his kids in the middle of the night. Before he shut it he turned to the three of us. “You guys are good sports.”
Wiki practically followed them out, shaking his head at me the whole way. “Don’t talk to me tomorrow. One of us has to come up with a viable plan.”
I don’t know how late we went to bed, but I hibernated all of Sunday. I spent the entire day cross-referencing my yearbook with Dad’s encyclopedias, hoping for a face to match. It was a supremely dumb and pointless activity, but it helped me completely forget about the madness awaiting us at school.
24
Monday was the Mondayest Monday of all Mondays. Not only was Wiki mad at himself for not hatching a plan over the weekend, but he spent the entire walk to Finistere scolding us for being too relaxed about Blackbeard. “We need to face the school bully before it’s too late—except our bully is bearded, legendary, and very capable of murder,” he ranted. “And it might be too late already.” We just gave him the silent treatment. I was still pretty annoyed with him for being so hardheaded about the whole Ms. C situation.
I was about to walk into first-period science when Wiki stopped and pointed to a sign on the door. Scrimshaw Science across the hall—room 108. “Looks like Mr. Jekyll is subbing for Mr. Scrimshaw today.” Mr. Jekyll had been our science teacher last year. “Ooh, wait. Jekyll? A scientist? And he’s British. What if he’s secretly Doctor Jekyll?” Wiki chuckled. Then full-on laughed. Then had a mini laugh attack. “Can you imagine if your absurd theory was actually right? That’d be apocalyptic!”
I got a little excited and a lot confused. “Dr. Jekyll. Is that a famous guy from history?”
“No,” he laughed, drying his eyes as he walked past me to his class. “It’s doubly impossible because he’s not from history. Dr. Jekyll’s a character in a book. But he’s the absolute last person you want in the real world. Good thing you’re completely wrong about all of this.” Then he walked off to his first-period class.
I walked into the room even more annoyed at Wiki, if that were possible at this point.
“Good afternoon, children. Today we’re going to take a break from marine biology to conduct a quick yet fascinating chemistry experiment involving selenium and zirconium. Please procure your notebooks and we shall begin.” I’d forgotten how boring Mr. Jekyll’s class was unless you were super into science experiments. He spoke like a British butler from olden times, he got really excited about mixing liquids that were different colors, and he loved sounding out the names of chemicals that were ridiculously long and complicated. So, yeah, Wiki used to absolutely love his class. Me? Not so much.
“Now, let us begin with selenium. Pencils are out? Good.” As he droned on I thought about what Wiki had said. So, clearly Andy summoned people from history, but what if he summoned people from fiction too? If Wiki were here he’d probably say something about time travel at least being theoretically possible but fiction just being made-up garbage. But Wiki wasn’t here, and I was desperate for a lead. Why not at least look into it?
Once Mr. J finished lecturing and we started doing our lab, I faked having to look something up on the computer. “It’ll just take a minute, Mr. Jekyll. I’m really interested in millennium.”
“Selenium,” he corrected.
“Uh, yeah, that too. One sec.”
The computers faced the classroom, so as I researched Dr. Jekyll online, I was pretty terrified that Mr. Jekyll would notice. Especially once I started reading about him. The fictional Dr. Jekyll was a normal scientist who made a potion that would turn him into a monster called Hyde whenever he wanted, but after a while the monster started taking over, and Jekyll had no control of the transformations—he would randomly turn into Hyde. No
w I could see why Wiki was making fun of me. Pirates and earls were one thing, but summoning monsters from books was another thing completely.
But then I read Jekyll’s description from the book: “A large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty.” Yep, that was Mr. Jekyll to a tee. “Every mark of capacity and kindness.” If “capacity” meant smarts, then yeah, Mr. Jekyll was both really smart and super nice. Boring, but nice. Then I read some quotes that Jekyll says in the book, and…oh boy. He talked exactly like Mr. Jekyll.
“Almost done there, chap?” Jekyll asked. I almost peed myself, but instead I quickly shut the computer off, jumped out of my seat, and scrambled to the lab tables.
“Done, done, done,” I said. Whew—it looked like he hadn’t noticed what I was researching.
That’s when I got another stupendously dumb idea in my head. What if I tested Mr. Jekyll out to see if there was a Mr. Hyde lurking in there? If there really was, I bet we could set him off in class. But of course there wouldn’t be, so there was really zero danger. You know how they say curiosity killed the cat? Well, I bet curiosity completely slaughters the Javi one day.
“Hey, Grimes,” I whispered. “Code Red.”
Grimes gave me a cruel look. “Is that a challenge, Santiago? Because if so, I accept.”
Code Red wasn’t something you said lightly. It was like a missile-launch code. It triggered the class to go completely haywire. We only used it on really bad or boring substitute teachers. As far as I knew, no one had ever tried a Code Red on a nice sub. But in seconds Grimes had walked to every kid in the class and whispered “Code Red” in their ear. Some of them shook their heads—Code Red on sweet, innocent Mr. J? But enough of them were bored or brave enough that they nodded.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”
It came from behind me. It was Sarah. Oh boy. Secret Crush Sarah was getting in on it.
“What in the blazes is that noise?” Mr. Jekyll said, looking back from the chalkboard. “Is that one of you?”
The loud hum continued. Mr. Jekyll started looking around the room, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Just as he started zeroing in on Sarah, the hum started coming from another direction. For a surprisingly long time he stood silent, trying to follow the sound, getting more annoyed every second.
“Is it you? Which of you is it? Enough!”
The humming prank. It brings down even the calmest teachers. Sure, it only works when the entire class is in on it and one student can pick up when another student stops, but when it does work, it’s true torture. I already regretted my decision. Poor, innocent Mr. J. What was I thinking?
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”
Jekyll pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaled, and then exhaled slowly. I could swear I saw his pinkie twitching a little bit. “Please do not continue to test my patience, students. I assure you, you do not want to make me angry.”
If there was a monster in there, we were probably close to unleashing it. Too late to stop now.
That’s when Grimes whispered “Launch!” and an armada of paper airplanes began. One after the other they flew, from all different corners of the room, each one crashing into Jekyll’s face, or arms, or, in one case, getting stuck between his glasses and his eyes. At first he was surprised, then one or two looked like they actually stung him, and for the first time I saw his usual pleasant smile turn into a scowl.
“What has gotten into you children?” he said, done with being irritable and now downright angry. His eyes twitched as he picked paper airplanes off the floor, crumpling each one up. “Is this how you treat a professor? What abominations you are today!”
Okay, that should’ve done it. No monster. So Andy just plucked people from history—no talking animals or dragons from books get summoned into our world. Double whew.
Argh, I felt awful for what I just did to the boring-but-otherwise-nice Mr. J. Maybe I could explain my dumb idea to him later and he would semi-forgive me? Or send me to the nurse thinking I’d gone insane?
“Mr. J! Mr. J!” Grimes yelled, waving his hand in the air.
“Yes, Mr. Grimes?” Jekyll said, not happy about being interrupted.
“I really, really need to go to the bathroom.”
Jekyll ran an angry hand through his hair. “You couldn’t be bothered to wait until I finished speaking?”
“I just have to go really super bad. Like, it’s practically coming out.”
Jekyll winced. “Fine. Take the pass.”
Grimes strutted to the front of the class and grabbed the bathroom pass that was attached to a big peacock feather, holding the pass with one hand and the feather with the other. Jekyll began to address the class again, when he was immediately interrupted again.
“Lighten up, Mr. J!” Grimes lunged at Mr. Jekyll and started tickling him with the huge feather. At first Mr. Jekyll was shocked, and then, for a little while, he started giggling uncontrollably, which was pretty hilarious. But then I started to notices flashes of anger, and then even scarier, flashes of fear. Why was he scared? “Not the tickling! Anything…but…the tickling!” he yelled between gasps.
No one else seemed to notice, but one of Jekyll’s hands was now three times the size of the other one, and it was extra hairy and looked more like concrete than skin. Oh. No. This guy is one hundred percent monster. Abort! Abort!
“Grimes! RUN!” I yelled, jumping out of my chair.
But it was too late. It felt like slow motion. Jekyll’s laughter started sounding deeper and more like an animal’s, but the class kept laughing hysterically. Grimes then turned around and bowed.
Then it happened. It actually happened. All at once the meek teacher’s body started convulsing and transforming. First his other hand swelled up to three times its size, then his chest and torso ripped his shirt and suit jacket as it ballooned into a ginormous, monster-sized body, his legs ripping his pants as they caught up with the rest. Then, finally, the scariest part—his head went from being quiet old Mr. J to turning into something hideous and troll-like with huge, nasty features, tusks growing out of his teeth, and eyes that were blood red.
No. Way.
I couldn’t move. I was completely frozen in place. My eyes were probably bigger than my entire face at that point. A lot of us were stunned, but the screams also came immediately.
“We’re in a horror movie! Let’s get out of here!”
“More like a comic book! Run, run, run!”
“What the—? Mommy!”
Mr. Hyde turned slowly to face us, smiling hideously as he spoke in a deep, thunderous growl that gave me goosebumps.
“I’M FREE AGAIN! A++ TO WHOEVER UNLEASHED ME FROM MY PUNY CAGE!” he said, ripping the teacher’s desk from the floor and throwing it out the window like it weighed five pounds. “I FEEL GREAT! NOW LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!” he yelled, punching a huge hole in the wall for fun. “MUSIC!” He looked at the class expectantly, but everyone was frozen in their seats and probably peeing themselves. “I SAID…MUSIC!”
Tommy in the front row woke up from his shock, plugged his phone into the class stereo, and pushed play.
“THAT’S MORE LIKE IT! NOW I GO BOOM AND YOU GO CLAP. BOOM!” he growled as he punched a hole in the ceiling. It took us a second, but a few kids clapped. “ALL OF YOU, AGAIN. BOOM!” Now he head-butted an empty desk, breaking it in half. More kids clapped, but a lot of them were still in shock. “TO THE RHYTHM, PEOPLE! BOOM!” He cracked a huge glass beaker on his head. A few of the wilder kids started getting into it, clapping loudly.
“This dude is rad!” Grimes said. “Let’s do this, guys—boom, clap, boom, clap!”
“THAT’S THE SPIRIT!” Mr. Hyde growled happily as he pointed at Grimes. Now the class started clapping more and more enthusiastically as Hyde danced around the room, smashing desks, throwing chairs out the windows, doing a cannonball into a table as it practically exploded, and hea
d-butting just about everything else, all to the beat.
“Best science class ever!” Grimes shouted.
“IT SURE IS! NOW START THROWING STUFF AT ME!” he thundered, pointing eagerly at his open mouth. Most of the kids were too afraid to, but without missing a beat, Grimes tossed a huge glass cylinder at his head, and Hyde caught it with his mouth, cracking the glass with his teeth and swallowing it.
“Go Mr. J!” Sarah yelled.
“CALL ME HYDE!” he roared as someone else threw a globe at him, which he chomped and swallowed.
“Hyde! Hyde! Hyde! Hyde!” the class started chanting.
“WOO! I FEEL GOOD! DO YOU FEEL GOOD?”
“Yes!” the class shouted.
“I FEEL SO GOOD I WANT TO PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE FACE! WHO WANTS TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE?” Hyde said, in a surprisingly friendly tone, like he’d just asked us who wanted to get ice cream with him.
The whole class now went immediately silent as Hyde looked around excitedly, one fist cocked back and ready to punch.
“NO ONE? AW, COME ON!”
A lot of the kids backed away and tried to fade into the wall at the other end of the classroom.
“YOU GUYS DON’T KNOW HOW TO PARTY! OH WELL, I’LL FIND SOMEONE WHO DOES!” And with that Hyde took a running start and leapt through the wall with the windows, leaving a huge, gaping hole behind.
The whole class ran to the hole and watched as Hyde did cartwheels and somersaults all the way to the edge of the forest. Right before he leapt into the woods he turned around, looked at our class through the huge hole in the wall, and made a dramatic bow. Then he backflipped into the woods with a huge roar.
There was a moment of complete silence after he disappeared. Then half the class reacted like they’d just seen a monster (which they had) and started crying or just staring at the floor in terror, while the other half reacted like they’d just chugged ten coffees in a row.
Time Villains Series, Book 1 Page 10
