Extraordinary Losers 1 (9 page)

Janice looked at all of us. Mundi was trembling so hard that he started to snow powder (literally).

I looked down, wishing that there was an underground bunker, somewhere.

All of a sudden, there was a…

“Haa-haa-haa-haa haaaaaaaaaaa… ” (a long pause) then, “CHOOOOOOOOO!”

It was so dramatic that we saw everything in full view. The deep breath, the chest expansion, the head tilt and finally Clandestino's red nose with all its cascading contents. To conclude his dramatic interlude, he gave the loudest snort.

EEEW!

Madam Siti's eyes rested on all of us. She tasted her cheap toxic lipstick and pondered a while before saying, “GO! Go and wash up, Clandestino and don't let me catch all of you here again! Oh, and all four of you, DETENTION after the school concert. One hour. You can accompany me.”

We cringed a little, but tried to maintain our composure.

“You are never to be seen loitering in class when no one is around, you hear?” Her face cracked more. “Now out of my sight!”

We were about to take off as fast as we could, when she said, “Wait! Wait! Here's an extra punishment!”

She lined us all up and gave each of us a nasty pinch on our cheeks.

“That is for being naughty!” she explained. “NOW GO!”

We stampeded away. I could see her shadow still looming over us as we ran as fast as we could.

“Phew! That was close!” Clandestino whispered. “I did that on purpose, you know. The whole nose thing.”

“Okay, okay. We believe you,” Mundi said.

“Thanks!” Janice smiled, handing him a tissue.

“We were this close!” I added. “You should have done it sooner!”

He swiped his nose with the tissue before saying, “I couldn't! It took time to build up.”

The four of us cracked up in laughter. We were great as a team! When Madam's Siti's overpowering perfume was undetectable, Mundi signalled, “Psst!”

We all turned to him. He slid out something from his pocket. It was a pen and an eraser.

“So?” I said.

“This isn't mine. No?” His eyelids fluttered. “But it will keep us busy enough during detention.” He smiled and slid the pen back into his pocket. Could this be our very first piece of evidence? We were psyched!

We ran back to take our places in the school hall. Thankfully, my mother was no longer to be seen gyrating on stage. The showcase of talent had finally ended.

After the concert, all four of us made our way to the detention room. A smelly room. For delinquents to be quarantined, far away from the good kids. Madam Siti walked in. Without a word, she dragged a rusty chair, sending out a nasty screech, and sat down.

“Do your homework! While everyone is on their way home, all four of you are stuck here. Serves you right for loitering around during a concert. Serves you right.”

There was nothing to do there but “ponder” our actions. We scratched from the heat of the afternoon sun, our bodies itchy with rashes and hands turning brown from touching the rotting tables.

A wasp was bustling about below Janice's table. Then, Madam Siti left, promising she would return.

All four of us scrambled to Mundi.

“Hey, show us your spoils, bro!”

“Wait, calm down. No?”

“There's no time for that,” Janice jumped in. “Quick! Before the wasp starts to attack me.”

Mundi looked around cautiously. Many things were at stake. His scholarship from India to study in a school in Singapore. His title as Best Student of 5B.

Then he unwrapped his fingers. A pen and an eraser.

“So? What is so special about this?” Clandestino sniffed. A nasal drop gravitated towards the pen.

“It looks ordinary to me,” Janice said, tussling with us for the evidence.

“Stop it, guys!” I said.

Mundi focused his deep-set eyes on the eraser. His long eyelashes fluttered faster and faster, as if he was on to something.

“Why do you have a scar on your hand, bro?” Clandestino asked. He was very distracted.

“It's no-no-nothing, no? D-d-d-don't wo-worry,” Mundi replied. “It's a lo-lo-long time ago.”

“It looks fresh to me,” Janice added.

“Rea-rea-really nothing,” Mundi stammered. His face took on a strange pallor.

It seemed like Mundi didn't want to talk about it. Time of infliction: Recent.

He sighed, then he looked at the specimens in his hand. Finally, he slid out the eraser's jacket gingerly. Our eyes widened as it revealed minuscule numbers and letters.

“Wow! These are… These are math formulas!” I gasped.

“Whose eraser is this?” Janice asked, carefully sniffing the eraser. It was one of those strawberry scented ones. “It smells like a girl's.”

“Does it?” Mundi scratched his head. “My hair smells like that and I'm not a girl. No?”

“Check the handwriting!” Clandestino said.

We took turns peering at it.

“The handwriting's too small,” I said. “Seriously, Mundi, where did you find it?”

“I found it under a desk, no?” he said.

“Which desk?” I persisted.

“Let me see,” Mundi thought for a while. “I think it was a desk near Justin and Leonard, no?”

Clandestino was growing impatient. “Which desk?”

“It was one of those at the back. No? But I can't be sure, as things were happening so quickly.”

While they were helping Mundi to recall, I noticed a slit on the pen. “Look at what this fellow did to his pen.”

Everyone put their heads together again. I was careful not to let my hair meet theirs for I could see little white specks on them. (Just to be safe.)

“Hey, what a genius!” I said.

There was a small slit on the pen cover. To the untrained eye, it was just an old cheap pen. But to a sleuth like me, it was the perfect illusion!

“Spin the pen a little, pull out the white part,” I said to Clandestino.

“Yeah, quick pull,” Janice said, dancing around in excitement.

Clandestino was tasked with the job since he had the smallest, most delicate hands – not to mention gooey uncut fingernails which was the perfect tool we needed for an investigation like this. He sandwiched the paper between his sticky nails and pulled. Out came a piece of paper about 3cm long, a scroll that brimmed with all kinds of definitions and formulas.

“Whoa!” we exclaimed in awe. We were almost tempted to keep the cheat pen for ourselves. Janice was half amazed but her sense of justice kicked in.

She blared, “We have to find the culprit!”

Clandestino had a light bulb moment. “We can hold it up in class and ask whose it is!”

“NO! No one would claim these specimens as theirs! Not when it has cheater written all over it,” Janice pointed out.

“Hey! Stop it, you both. You don't have to play detective. Actually, I, er… I know who the stationery belongs to,” I said.

They all turned to me with piercing eyes and chorused a resounding “WHO??”

CHAPTER 8: SALTY-SWEET TEMPTATIONS

The next Monday, class 5B was enveloped with sadness when an announcement was made: “Miss Jacobs, your Math teacher, is on leave for two weeks and Madam Siti will be taking over her lessons until further notice.”

“WHAT?!”

She was plodding up the stairs. I felt my esophagus tighten a little. Clandestino ran up to me in a frenzy. “Here, these are for later.” He winked. Then he shoved a big orange plastic bag into my bag. It felt heavy and cold.

“Class, get ready for your mock test on triangles and circles!” Madam Siti yelled the minute she stepped into class.

“I didn't bring my calculator to school today.”

“What?” she bellowed. “You again, Darryl?!”

I shrugged.

“Stand behind the class! Don't you know you have to bring it every day? You'll have to do your test from behind the class, standing!”

“Okay.”

I stood up. I felt everyone's eyes on me.

“Right, boys and girls, get ready,” she said as she gave out the test sheets solemnly. I received mine, which was still hot from Madam Siti's “printery”.

Leonard whispered, “Madam Siti and her test paper factory.”

Skimming through the first question already gave me the jitters. The question read: Find the area of a triangle if its length is 10cm and height is 15cm.

What?

It was only the first question and everyone's stuck-o-meter already registered 9/10. Except Mundi's. Mundi was scribbling away at full speed. His eyes were blinking: equals, equals, equals.

Mine were blinking: ? ? ?

Damien was searching his bag frantically.

“Madam Siti, I think I have lost my pen and eraser,” he said, panicking.

“Well, is that my problem? Use another one!” Madam Siti retorted.

“But it's important,” he insisted.

Janice looked up from her desk and spun around. Then she turned to me with her eyes wide open.

“Damien's?” she mouthed silently.

I nodded.

Madam Siti saw the silent interaction between us. “Janice and Darryl, I am warning you…”

We continued with our test. My heart felt heavy as I had just betrayed my friend.

Madam Siti warned, “Those of you who fail this mock test, NO RECESS FOR YOU TOMORROW!”

From the back of the class, I could see everyone's reaction to the surprise test. Justin kept fiddling with his bottle and drinking from it. Leonard kept scrubbing his exercise book with an eraser.

“What are you doing, Leonard? Why do you keep erasing? I said use a pen, not a pencil!” Madam Siti said when she noticed.

“But, Madam Siti, I… I… I am using a pen,” he said.

“You are using a pen? Okay, then stop erasing! It's a waste of time.”

Wait a minute? An erasable pen? What was Leonard doing with an erasable pen? Nobody ever uses them in school because we prefer to bury our errors under the correction tape. It's fun, quick and seriously addictive. Maybe the tape manufacturers added a drug that, when inhaled by children, made them hooked on correction tape forever.

My brain was suddenly charged! The erasable pen was what he had been using all this while. How could I have been so blind?

“I need to get my hands on Leonard's test papers,” I muttered.

“What did you say, Darryl? Are you done there?” Madam Siti's eyes fell on me. My page was blank except for a few numbers sparsely distributed. They did not even make any sense.

“Darryl De! You definitely have to stay back!”

“I know,” I said sheepishly.

“BRRIIIIING!” Our favourite sound brought everyone to their feet. We flung our test papers to the group leader with the greatest accuracy and rushed headlong out of the class. I stopped Leonard just as he was about to head out.

“Hey Leonard, can I borrow your Math and Science CA1 test papers please?”

“What for?”

“Corrections.”

“Hmmmm…” He thought for a while. “And why should I be helping you, loser?”

“Cos, I have something you would love.”