[Janitors 01] Janitors (11 page)

Shrapnel from the ice cream bomb splashed onto Mrs. Natcher’s cheek, and the force of the impact knocked them both back. Mrs. Natcher took a step backward to steady herself, but the teacher’s shoe came down in the syrup swamp. The slick mess tested Mrs. Natcher’s ability to skate . . . and she failed. The boring woman went down, her gray hair bun acting like a mop for the strawberry topping. Daisy came loose in the process, but she staggered, blinded by the ice cream.

Daisy wiped her eyes. The rest of her face was still sticky and white, as if some kind of spa facial mask had gone wrong. She had to make it to the rendezvous spot with Garth Hadley before the janitors got her! Leaving Dez in shock and Mrs. Natcher in syrup, Daisy crossed the cafeteria and exited out the back door. There were kids in the bouncy castle, some giggling, some crying, all totally oblivious to the war inside.

Daisy leapt down the steps and ran past the castle. A huge form suddenly appeared around the edge of the bouncy building. Big hands reached for Daisy, but she turned sharply, running back up the steps.

“You’re supposed to be cleaning the mess inside!” she screamed as Marv came after her.

“The mess isn’t going anywhere,” the janitor answered. “But it looks like the mess makers are.”

Daisy flew back up the steps, her retreat totally cut off. She entered the cafeteria at the same time Spencer burst through the opposite door. The two kids ran toward one another, each pursued by a dangerous janitor, with Mrs. Natcher standing up in the middle.

“You got it?” Daisy shrieked.

“Got it!” Spencer answered.

Spencer and Daisy met in the center of the cafeteria. “This way!” Spencer retreated to a corner. Daisy followed, drops of melted ice cream still flinging off her face.

“What now?” Daisy asked. The two kids had their backs to a wall. The two janitors slowed, spreading into attack formation Alpha Beta and coming slowly toward the children.

“We’re cornered,” Daisy moaned.

“No!” Spencer gritted his teeth. In desperation, he pulled off the latex glove.

“Spencer Alan Zumbro!” his mother’s voice pierced the cafeteria. “You come here this instant!” But Spencer wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, or his mom’s voice would break his heart.
Focus on the secret mission.

“Hold my hand,” Spencer whispered to Daisy.

“Wha–?”

“Just do it!”

Daisy grabbed Spencer’s hand. Walter and Marv pounced. Mrs. Natcher hung back in case the kids managed to break free.

And they
did
break free!

In the last possible instant, Spencer had shoved the latex glove over their clenched hands. The janitors’ grasp held them for only a moment before Daisy and Spencer slid easily between their fingers.

It was awkward to run holding hands, trying to keep their palms close so the stretchy glove wouldn’t slip off. The mob of parents had filed outside along the back cafeteria steps. It was difficult to navigate the crowd, even though no one could hold them. With the parents forming a barricade, there was only one place to run.

“You have to take off your shoes!” the bouncy castle worker screamed as Daisy and Spencer dove through the mesh flap into the air-filled arena. There were three first graders bouncing reluctantly, but they quickly vacated the castle as Spencer and Daisy leapt inside.

The big inflatable castle was square, with four blowup turrets, one on each corner. Mesh walls connected the corners, but the top was uncovered. Spencer glanced up. If they could get over the back wall, it would be an open field to the rendezvous site.

The inflated floor suddenly shifted. Spencer went down as Daisy went up. The motion caused their hands to release, and the latex glove fell to the floor.

The cause of the disruption was Marv’s great bulk, leaping ungracefully through the castle entrance and displacing a lot of air as he landed. The entrance flap, designed for elementary-school-sized children, had proven to be tighter than Marv had apparently expected, and he was tangled up in it.

As the janitor struggled, Spencer handed the nail and hammer to Daisy. Interlocking his fingers, Spencer made a quick stirrup for her. She stepped into his cupped hands and, with a bounce, he sent her over the wall.

Daisy didn’t fly too gracefully. On her way up, she screamed, dropping both items. Daisy landed hard on the grass outside, but the hammer and nail landed with a bounce on the castle’s inflated floor.

Spencer caught the bronze hammer on the first bounce. But before he could recover the nail, Marv jumped.

It was like fighting on the moon. Spencer bounced out of reach. Marv came down, sending Spencer higher on his next bounce. Walter Jamison climbed through the castle flap, his gaunt face set with determination.

The bronze nail was like a single kernel of corn in a popcorn popper. Every time someone landed, the nail went in a new direction.

Spencer went for the glove, possibly his last chance of escape. Walter beat him to it, dive-bouncing across the castle floor. As Walter landed, Marv went up. The big janitor lost his balance and came down on his belly as the nail rolled under him. The sharp nail pierced the tarplike material of the bouncy castle with a tearing sound. Marv rolled away from the split and a gush of air went up. The castle turrets began to fold and tilt inward.

The irate bouncy-castle worker shouted and switched off the air machine that kept the castle upright. As the castle collapsed, Spencer made a final leap and vaulted over the sagging mesh wall.

Spencer ran so hard he felt sick. His legs pumped across the field till they were numb. He didn’t look back to see if the janitors were pursuing him. He didn’t want to imagine his family—his mom—so disappointed and upset. She wouldn’t understand what he was doing, why he had ruined the ice cream social and fled the premises.

The blue Toyota was idling at the rendezvous corner. As Spencer got close, Daisy threw open the door and he dove into the car. Garth Hadley was at the wheel. Even before the door was shut, the car was speeding down the street.

“Well?” Mr. Hadley asked. His clean, square face was anxious for the report.

Spencer held up the bronze hammer. It was one solid piece of metal, very plain, with no special designs or jewel-encrusted handle.

“We got the hammer,” he said. “And here’s the soap we borrowed.” Spencer dug the little bottle from his pocket and handed it over.

“What about the nail?” Garth Hadley asked. “Did you get it?”

“Nope,” said Spencer. “The bouncy castle did.”

Chapter 20

“You’re just like your father sometimes.”

It was a quarter to midnight when the blue Toyota pulled into Hillside Estates and came to a gentle stop in front of Aunt Avril’s house.

After their escape from the ice cream social, Garth Hadley had driven the kids out of Welcher to a small neighboring town. There, he bought them a late dinner at a twenty-four-hour dive. The bathroom was as dingy as they come, and Spencer held his breath the whole time as he washed his hands. The food was greasy, but as the adrenaline of the evening wore off, Spencer and Daisy found they were hungry.

Garth Hadley was pleased with their work and assured them that Walter Jamison had been stopped—at least momentarily. He still had the nail, but without the hammer there was no way for Walter to set up a link with the school again.

Hadley explained that the BEM would stay in town until they found a way to get the bronze nail, leaving Walter Jamison totally powerless.

“We could really use your help,” Garth invited. “You two were great at the ice cream social.”

“No, thanks,” Spencer said quietly, poking at his last bite of country-fried steak. Daisy just shook her head.

“That’s all right, kids,” Hadley said. “The BEM is in your debt. You’ve been instrumental in crippling a criminal. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

The drive back to Welcher was quiet and awkward. Daisy dozed in the backseat. Garth Hadley said nothing, his broad face studying the road ahead. Spencer watched the black night go by, wondering what kind of trouble he would be in with his mother, with the janitors, with the principal, with the angry, root-beer-stained parents . . . the list went on.

Had it been a mistake to help the BEM? It had gotten him in serious trouble, and he’d dragged Daisy down with him. Part of Spencer wished that he’d never spoken to Garth Hadley. But the world of the janitors was also fascinating and enticing: magical creatures roaming the halls, a latex glove that made the wearer slip through enemy fingers. . . . What other awesome tricks might exist that Spencer was completely unaware of?

Hadley dropped Daisy off first, the Gates’s savage dog greeting them with a chorus of barking. Daisy, ashen-faced at the prospect of meeting her parents, jumped quickly out of the car. Light illuminated the windows of the little house. Daisy’s parents were undoubtedly waiting up.

Aunt Avril’s house, however, looked pitch-black from the street. For a hopeful minute, Spencer thought he might be able to slip upstairs to his bedroom and pretend like nothing had happened.

Spencer opened the car door and put his feet out.

“Hey.” Garth Hadley reached over. “You’ve got a career in the Bureau of Educational Maintenance if you want one, kid.”

Spencer looked back at Mr. Hadley, BEM regional representative. Spencer wanted to smile, but the things he’d done at the ice cream social pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I’m only twelve.”

Hadley laughed, showing straight, white teeth. “I’m just saying . . .” He trailed off. His face resumed a more businesslike look. “As you’ve discovered, the BEM does a whole lot more than scrape gum. There’s another world out there, Spencer. You’ve only tapped the surface, but you show real talent.”

“Thanks,” Spencer muttered, and he stood up. Garth Hadley was examining the bronze hammer again. Spencer thought he might say something more, but before Hadley had the chance, Spencer shut the car door.

Spencer stood alone on the dead grass as the blue Toyota drove out of Hillside Estates. The wealthy country neighborhood was alive with the chirrup of crickets. Somewhere in the distance, Spencer heard the
ch-ch-ch
of a large sprinkler. With a sigh, he walked up the steps, opened the front door, and locked it once he was inside.

“We have to talk.”

Spencer’s heart jumped, pulling his feet off the ground in surprise. His mother was seated on a scratched leather couch, enveloped in darkness.

“Mom! What are you doing in the dark? You totally freaked me out!”

“
I
freaked
you
out? Spencer, it’s nearly midnight! Where have you been?”

Spencer didn’t know what to do—ignore her and walk away, or spill everything and see what she believed. He needed time in his tidy bedroom. Time to sort everything out and decide what to do next.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Spencer tried.

“Are you kidding? You’re twelve years old, Spencer. I’m your mother and I have every right to know what’s going on. You made a huge mess, left your little brother covered in ice cream toppings, popped the blow-up castle, and then ran away from—”

“I didn’t pop the castle. It was that fat janitor guy.”

“Don’t make excuses for your poor actions! You’re just like your father sometimes!”

Her words hit Spencer like a splash of icy water in the face. Comparing Spencer to Alan Zumbro evoked high emotion from both mother and son. Alice was trembling. Spencer didn’t know whether he should feel insulted or proud.

They stared silently at one another, two dark silhouettes in an oversized living room. Spencer had never felt so ashamed, so afraid of tomorrow. It was dark enough to cry, wasn’t it? His mother was already doing it, so Spencer let a tear fall too.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

Alice held out her arms. Spencer shuffled toward her, uneasily at first, like a toddler learning to walk. Then he collapsed on the couch and felt his mother’s arms wrap around his shoulders.

“It’ll be all right,” Alice whispered. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Spencer swallowed hard. How much could he tell his mother before she decided that his childish imagination was out of control? Besides, Garth Hadley had told him not to talk about the creatures anymore. And Spencer’s confession to the class had been met with laughter. Laughter that deeply hurt. If his mother didn’t believe him, if she laughed . . .

But he had to tell her
something!
He needed to know what to do next and wanted someone else to decide it for him. Alice gave Spencer a comforting squeeze.

“Last Thursday,” Spencer began. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “After school, I met a guy from the Bureau of Educational Maintenance. Garth Hadley. He said the BEM needed my help to get something from the janitors. Something they . . . stole.”

Spencer had to fib a little here. In the silent moments before he spoke, Spencer had already decided that telling the story would be much easier if he left out the
magic
altogether. There was no reason to mention the creatures. No reason to tempt his mother to laugh. After all, the janitors were the real problem. That was where he needed help.