Walter reverently took the bronze hammer and School Board from Spencer’s outstretched hands. “I’m honored.”
“Now will I stop glowing?” Spencer glanced at his arms.
Walter placed the tip of Ninfa against the head of the bronze nail. A magic bond formed instantly and started lifting the nail free of the wood. The small bronze nail fell tinkling onto the coffee table.
Instantly, the protective Aura around Spencer began to fade. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, the glow was completely extinguished.
Spencer retrieved the fallen nail and handed it to Walter. “Just promise me that you’ll Glopify some really cool stuff.”
Walter grinned. “I told you once that I feared a war might be brewing. The BEM’s new experiments will redefine the world of Glopified equipment. They’re not out to fight Toxites anymore. They’re fighting
us.
”
“Well, I hope they know what they’re up against,” Alice said. “Because
nobody
messes with my kids.”
Spencer had taken that for granted until he had seen his mom tackle Leslie Sharmelle at the hotel. It was nice to have a mom who cared.
“There’s one more thing,” Spencer said. He stepped into the other room and returned with the Vortex. He had debated giving it up. The vacuum bag represented painful memories, true. But to Spencer it was also an icon of sacrifice and friendship. “I want you to have this.” He handed it to Walter.
The janitor accepted the bag with a sad smile. “Spencer,” he said, “Marv would want—”
“I don’t . . .” Spencer held up his hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Walter sighed and pulled on a baseball cap. “Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Zumbro.” He pocketed Ninfa and the nail and tucked the School Board under one arm.
At the door, Walter Jamison turned. He stared hard at the boy. “Thank you, Spencer. For everything.” Then he disappeared into the rain, sidestepping a puddle on the sidewalk.
“Until Monday,” the boy whispered. So why did Spencer feel like that was good-bye?
Chapter 44
“A van?”
Daisy Gates reached her goal of being the first student to enter the school on Monday morning. Close behind was Spencer.
Bright and early, the two kids had met on the playground and entered Welcher Elementary, anxious to see how Walter had reestablished his domain. The kids walked briskly to the janitor stairwell only to stop short, their hearts beating fast.
Boxes.
Cardboard boxes were taped shut and piled on the stairs. Spencer and Daisy waded past a stack and were starting down the stairwell when they came face-to-face with a somber Walter Jamison.
“What is this?” Spencer asked, pointing at the stuff piling up.
Walter set down the box he was carrying and rubbed a hand along his bald head. “Ah, glad you’re here. I need some extra helpers to carry things out to the van.”
“Van? What are you talking about?” Daisy cried.
Walter nodded. “I’m done here,” he said quietly.
“What?” Spencer and Daisy shouted in unison.
“I’ve been fired,” Walter explained. “We knew it would happen. The BEM is still in charge.”
“I don’t care!” Spencer said angrily. “We beat the BEM!”
Walter shook his head. “We beat Garth Hadley and stumped the BEM’s plans to make him the next warlock. But one doesn’t
beat
the Bureau of Educational Maintenance.”
“But,” said Spencer, looking for an excuse. “But the nail and the hammer . . .”
“They are safe,” Walter said. “I re-drove the bronze nail into the School Board yesterday. Then I chose my new domain. I’m a full-fledged warlock again, ready to experiment—thanks to you two.”
“But where will you go?” Daisy asked.
Walter lowered his voice. “The BEM will track me down wherever I set up. But if I can remain in motion . . .” He grinned to himself. “I have established my new domain in a van.”
“A van?” Daisy asked.
“A fifteen-passenger vehicle,” he replied. “It should be large enough to experiment with Glop. And since the van will already have wheels, I’ll be able to make deliveries to the Rebel schools without ever leaving my domain.”
“No,” Spencer interrupted. “I won’t let you leave. Who’s going to replace you?”
“The Bureau has hired two new janitors,” said the warlock. “They’ll arrive at Welcher in a few days.”
“BEM workers? Here?” Spencer stomped his foot. “But they’ll let the Toxites take over. Without you, I’ll be sleeping through every lesson!”
“Haven’t we taught you anything?” Walter asked. “The Toxites will multiply, true. But as long as you can see them,
you
can fight them.” He picked up the box. “I’ll be around to give you new supplies as often as I can manage. As long as you two are here, I’ll consider Welcher Elementary part of the Underground.”
Spencer clenched his fists. It couldn’t be true. Soon he would wake up and know that this whole scene was nothing but a nightmare. Walter couldn’t leave now! Not after Marv had died. Not after all they’d been through together.
“Look,” Walter said, “I know it’s hard to accept. It isn’t like I
want
to go. There’s nothing I’d rather do than stay here and watch out for you kids. But I won’t leave you totally friendless.”
“What do you mean?” Daisy asked.
“Principal Poach just hired a new lunch lady.” Walter lowered his voice. “Her name is Meredith List. She’s an old friend of mine. She knows about Toxites and she’s loyal to the Rebel Underground. If you ever need to contact me, just tell Meredith.”
Spencer slumped down onto a nearby box. A lunch lady wasn’t the best trade for a warlock, but at least there would be an adult in Welcher who knew about Toxites.
“Ten minutes till the bell rings,” Walter said. “Do you kids mind giving me a hand with some of this stuff?”
Spencer, Daisy, and Walter waddled out to the parking lot, their arms laden with boxes, janitorial equipment, and half-completed warlock experiments. A brown fifteen-passenger van was parked in the nearest stall, the back open. It was stripped of its rear seats, much like Garth Hadley’s BEM van. But Walter’s brown van seemed a hundred times friendlier.
The three of them piled their armloads into the back of the van. Walter dusted off his hands and smiled. “I’ll go back for the last load,” he said. “You two run along to class before the bell rings.”
“Where are you going after this?” Spencer asked, stalling—anything to avoid saying good-bye.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Walter said, looking up into the bright blue sky like he could see forever into space. “First thing I need is an assistant. My niece has volunteered to go with me. She’s young, but she’s worked as a janitor since she was seventeen, so she knows a few tricks. She should make a good replacement for . . . um . . .”
“For Marv,” Spencer said. But he knew that wasn’t true. Nobody could really replace Marv Bills.
“We’ll head over to some Rebel schools in Wyoming and Colorado, keep moving south.” Walter shrugged. “There’s endless work to be done, and when we’re finished with that, there’ll still be gum to scrape. You kids can’t seem to keep it in your mouths.” Walter smiled, a transparent attempt to lighten the mood. Spencer stared back gloomily and Daisy gazed down at her shoelaces.
The three of them stood awkwardly in the September morning, Spencer having a stare-off with Walter Jamison.
“Listen, Spencer,” the warlock said, rubbing his forehead. “There’s something I should probably tell you. I was going to tell you sooner, but then I thought maybe I should wait. Now, since I don’t know when I’ll see you again, well . . .” Walter sighed.
“What?”
“I just wanted to let you know . . . I think your father would be proud of you.”
Spencer heard his heartbeat in his ears, growing steadily faster. Was that supposed to be a compliment? Didn’t Walter know that Spencer’s dad had disappeared years ago?
He’s got to come back,
Daisy had said when they were scraping gum.
Nobody loves their work more than their family.
As if reading Spencer’s mind, Walter said, “He meant to come home, Spencer. Alan Zumbro was a good man.”
“You knew him?” Spencer asked in utter disbelief.
“Your father was an excellent Toxite biologist. He was part of the BEM before the Bureau went haywire. Smart man. Once I sat in on a lecture he gave at a Bureau conference. The topic was Filth anatomy—way over my head. The BEM really valued the experiments that Alan did to understand the anatomy and physiology behind Toxites.”
Spencer almost had to gasp for breath. His father! A Toxite scientist? It was almost impossible to believe. Yet it made perfect sense. Spencer’s mother was always annoyed by Alan’s secretive behavior—his mediocre explanations of where he’d been and why he’d been out so late.
“You’re just like your father sometimes!”
Spencer’s mother had told him. Suddenly, he realized how right she’d been.
“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Walter said with a curt nod.
Sorry? Sorry for what? Spencer had never felt better in his whole life! But the solemn expression on the janitor’s face quickly killed his joy. At last, Spencer asked the unanswerable question.
“Why hasn’t he come home yet?”
Walter exhaled slowly. He made eye contact, then broke it before answering. “Your father went to Texas for an experiment with the Toxites . . .”
“Yes, I know,” Spencer interrupted. “He went with Rod Grush two years ago—”
Walter silenced the boy by raising his hand. “The experiment was very dangerous; lots of unstable variables—”
“What was he doing?” Spencer cut him off again. “What
was
the project?”
“Alan was attempting to trace Glop back to its very source. He was on the cusp of discovery when it happened.”
“What happened?” shouted Spencer. “What?”
“Your father disappeared.”
Silence.
Spencer felt it starting in his stomach. A sick rejection of the truth, pulling at his insides. This was unacceptable.
“Poof? Gone?” Spencer cried. “That’s not good enough! What happened to him?”
“I’m telling you,” Walter said, “no one knows what happened down there.”
Spencer felt like all his bones had turned to jelly. So close to learning the truth about his dad . . . nobody just
disappeared.
His dad had to be
somewhere.
“Tell you what,” Walter said, changing his tone of voice. “Since I’m headed south, I’ll do my best to pick up some new clues. In my opinion, the case was never investigated as much as it should have been.” The warlock smiled. “I promise, Spencer. I’ll do as much as I can.”
The bell rang, shrill and obnoxious. Daisy tugged at Spencer’s sleeve. “We’d better go,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Spencer, taking a deep breath. Walter extended a hand and Spencer shook it.
“Get going,” Walter urged them.
Daisy and Spencer turned to face Welcher Elementary School. With Dez back from suspension and a school full of toxin-breathing Toxites, who could tell what new adventures the day might hold?
Acknowledgments
It seems like every time I turn around, I meet someone new to thank. So many awesome people have helped me transform
Janitors
into what it needed to be.
Thanks to everyone at Shadow Mountain for doing so much to help launch this series—especially Chris Schoebinger for believing in the story and having the vision of where this could go. I’m also grateful to Heidi Taylor for patiently working through the rough spots with me, and to Emily Watts for her excellent editorial work.
Another big thanks goes to my wise agent, Rubin Pfeffer, for starting me off on the right foot. Thanks to Brandon Dorman for bringing the story to life with his amazing artwork and illustrations.
I want to acknowledge and thank my good parents for always fostering my creativity and supporting my hobbies.
Now, for the team of family and friends who read the early manuscript and gave me feedback: Mom, Dad, Jess and Dave, Laura (for countless drafts) and Martin, Molly and Mike, C and Hil, the Dykstras, Lance, and two of my youngest readers, Anna and Maren. Thank you all so much.
A shout-out also goes to the dark hallways of Mount Logan Middle School for inspiring me, and to the mysterious custodians who wandered those halls: Ray, Glenn, Mike, and Paige.
Of course, I owe a special thanks to my wonderful, patient wife, Connie, for supporting me along the road to publication.
And thanks to you, reader, for picking up this book! Now, grab your mop and get back to work. There are lots of Toxites out there, and someone’s got to stop them!
Reading Guide
1. Spencer knows he saw some creatures in the school, but he denies it when Dez threatens him after lunch. Have you ever had trouble standing up for something you know is right? What made it hard?
2. Mr. Gates says that a chameleon is someone whose story changes depending on who he’s talking to. Is it important to always tell the whole story? Why, or why not?
3. Daisy tells Spencer that he needs to believe that his dad will come back. Why is it important to have hope? What kinds of things should we hope for?
4. Garth Hadley tricks Spencer and Daisy into doing things for him. How can you know when someone is asking you to do the wrong thing? What should you say if that happens?