The Ministry of SUITs (21 page)

All of this would have been relatively unremarkable if it hadn't been for the fact that the man was wearing a pink tutu. It wasn't a flattering look. The tutu bulged and strained to try and keep the man's considerable bulk in check.

“So we have ourselves a deal, then, Minister?”

The Minister stared at the man with more than a hint of annoyance. “I suppose so. But I hardly think it's fair.”

“Fair's got nothing to do with it,” snarled the man. “I got the paperwork and you know it.”

“I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Fairy.”

“Yeah, yeah, you will.” The man in the pink tutu turned to leave the room. On his way out he looked down at Jack and Trudy. He grinned at them in a very unsettling way. “Always brush your teeth, kids.”

The door closed behind the large man and Jack felt he could breathe again. “Who on earth was that?”

The Minister lifted a decanter off his desk. It was filled with a clear, brown liquid. He poured himself a glass from it and took a sip before he even spoke. “That, Jack, was the Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy?” echoed Trudy.

“Remember I told you he took my teeth after I fell asleep with my head under the pillow? Well, we struck a deal for me to buy them back.”

“Ah!” said Jack. “And then you can go to the Ministry healthcare staff and they'll reinsert them.”

The Minister pointed at the bandages covering Jack's and Trudy's arms. “You've met the Ministry healthcare staff, so you'll understand why I'll be going to a private dentist.”

“The Tooth Fairy looks a bit scary.”

“The man is a
monster
!” The Minister was clearly quite passionate about this subject. “But never, never cross him. He has the strength of seven or eight men, and he never, never stops if he believes your teeth belong to him.”

“I'll remember that,” said Jack, thinking that this information would never be of any use. As usual, Jack was badly mistaken.

“Anyway, enough of my dental negotiations. What have you two learned?”

Jack and Trudy looked at each other before they began speaking. Then they both took a deep breath and began their story.

Jack was amazed at how easily the story tumbled out of them. They told the Minister of the theory of the children missing from gym class, the wind farms owned by Chapeau Noir Enterprises and Mr. Teach, the new uniforms and their ability to collect static electricity, and the werecreatures attacking the museum. Jack felt an enormous sense of relief. Once the Minister had heard the story he would make sure Mr. Teach was stopped and David would be safe.

As they talked the Minister nodded his head and looked as though he was thinking intently.

After they had both finished the Minister poured himself another glass of the clear, brown liquid and stroked his chin before he began speaking. “I know what this is,” he said.

Jack leaned forward in his chair, excited to hear the Minister's explanation.

“What this is, is a mystery,” said the Minister.

“That isn't very helpful,” said Trudy.

Jack felt that he had wasted his effort leaning forward and so he slumped back in his chair. “Is that all you can tell us?”

“If I could tell you more it wouldn't be a mystery, would it?” asked the Minister.

“So, what next?” asked Trudy.

“Next you have to figure out exactly what's going on and stop it.”

“Can't we just call the police?” asked Jack. He felt they had to do something. David's status as an odd kid was putting him at risk.

The Minister looked at Jack. “We are the police for things like this.”

Jack felt his stomach turn. “Look, I have to admit that I'm a little scared. If I get killed, my parents will be most put out. Apart from anything else they've just bought me a new schoolbag that they expect will last for at least a year.”
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The Minister chuckled, then walked around from the other side of his desk to put a hand on Jack's shoulder. “Jack, it's good that you're scared. People who aren't scared tend to bravely walk straight into the lion's den, and you know what happens to them?”

“They get eaten by the lions?”

“Precisely. The Ministry doesn't want heroes. It wants people who stay alive long enough to find out what's wrong and fix the problem. Heroes aren't very useful. Not even lions like heroes, because with all that running about they do, heroes tend to taste rather tough and stringy. Or so I'm informed.”

Although Jack was frightened, he wasn't sure that he enjoyed being told that he wasn't a hero. “But aren't heroes good in wars and things like that?”

“Goodness, no,” said the Minister. “The problem with heroes is that they dive on top of grenades to save their friends.”

“Isn't that a positive thing?”

“No! You just end up with one dead hero and an enormous laundry bill. Cowards are more sensible—they kick the grenade away. So, with a bit of luck and a good right foot,
everyone
survives.”

Jack turned to look at Trudy. The Minister's speech seemed to have made sense to her. She was nodding quietly to herself.

“Since you seem to be up against some pretty tough competition, I'm going to suggest that you go and see the Misery. A little more combat training might be a sensible precaution at this stage.”

Jack sighed inwardly.
Oh great
, he thought.
More time with the Misery
. He thought about refusing, but if he was going to have to fight to save David, he wanted to be ready. Their experience at the museum had proved to him he wasn't ready … yet.

MINISTRY
OF
S.U.I.T.S
HANDBOOK

TOOTH FAIRY

I
NTEREST
IN
D
ENTAL
H
YGIENE

The reason the Tooth Fairy tells people to brush their teeth is because he needs to be able to collect teeth in good, sparkling white condition in order to continue his business making white keys for pianos.

People often believe that the Tooth Fairy only collects teeth from the very young. Baby teeth are the whitest in color and therefore of the most use for making white piano keys. The Tooth Fairy rarely collects adult teeth, as over the years they become stained and yellowish through the continual drinking of red wine and coffee and from smoking.

Of course, the Tooth Fairy does sometimes collect the teeth of the very old (hence the reason that old people often have gaps in their teeth) to use for the black keys on the piano. But as the black keys on a piano are both smaller and fewer in number, the Tooth Fairy does not need to collect as many of these.

 

32

A TOTAL PLANK

 

Jack really wasn't looking forward to visiting the Misery. Previously he had been unsure about facing death, but if it came down to a choice of facing death or spending some time with the Misery, he was quite happy to call up the restaurant and make reservations for a dinner date with the Grim Reaper.

Trudy, on the other hand, was quite looking forward to it. “I love training,” she said as they walked along the corridor together.

“You are a very, very strange girl,” said Jack. “The Misery is appalling. He's going to be horrible to us for an hour and then tell us we haven't done a very good job.”

“That's what I like about him.”

“What? The abuse?”

“You don't understand, Jack. People
like
you.”

Jack wondered why everyone thought this. “David said that to me as well. But people don't really like me that much, do they?”

“Well not
that
much,” admitted Trudy. “But enough. They chat to you, talk to you.”

“Maybe people would chat to you too if you didn't punch them in the shoulder so much … Owwww,” said Jack as Trudy punched him in the shoulder.

“That doesn't make any sense. I punch you in the shoulder and you still talk to me. So, obviously, that doesn't make a difference.”

“People are scared of you.”

“They don't like me because I'm different. I don't know anything about pop stars, I don't care about makeup, I don't know which boy is the hottest, or what clothes are ‘in.' And because of that they're horrible to me.”

Jack couldn't say anything to this. He knew it was true. It was easy to make fun of someone who was different in the hope that people wouldn't notice that you were different too.

“I still don't understand why that would make you like the Misery.”

“It's simple,” Trudy explained. “I see everyone in school getting on, making friends, and generally having a laugh, right? Everyone is really nice to each other. But they're horrible to me. And that's why I like the Misery.”

“But the Misery is horrible to you!”

“And that's why I like him. I know everyone else
can be nice
if they try. I see them being nice to each other. But they're
horrible to me
. The Misery is horrible to everyone. At least he treats everyone the same.”

It did seem to make a little sense to Jack. Although not a lot.

“Being annoyed with the Misery for being miserable would be like being annoyed at a hedgehog for liking acupuncture. Or being annoyed at a giraffe for needing a really long scarf. They can't help it; it's what they are. But people in school being horrible to me … that's something different. They have a choice.”

When they got to the Misery's room the door was standing slightly ajar with a sign hung on it.

OUT FOR HALF AN HOUR—PLEASE COME INSIDE AND WAIT (or go away … as if I care…)

“We could just go away,” suggested Jack.

Trudy scowled at him and walked into the training room.

Jack wanted to walk around the room to see what was beyond the gloom that pervaded the edges, but he wasn't brave enough. Who knew what horrible things the Misery kept under the bleak darkness that made the room seem infinitely big?

“Hey, look at this,” said Trudy.

Unlike on their last visit, the room was not completely empty. A small pile of planks was set in the center.

“I wonder what these are for?”

Jack scoffed at her. “It's obvious what these are for. Haven't you ever seen any martial arts movies?”

Trudy said that she hadn't really seen many martial arts movies. Jack found this difficult to believe. He was sure that when she punched him in the arm she was imitating Chuck Norris, Jet Li, or some other legendary hard man.

“This is where we're trained for fighting, right? And martial arts training always ends with being able to break wooden planks with your bare hands.”

Trudy looked at Jack, then at the planks. “Aren't these planks a little long for that?”

Jack studied the planks. Normally when you saw people breaking wood they were sections one or two feet long. These planks were considerably longer … perhaps ten feet long? But surely there was no other reason that the Misery would have rough planks in his room.

Then Jack had a horrible thought. “He's going to expect us to break these with our hands.” Jack punched one of the planks. The effect was predictable. His hand turned red and hurt. The plank was stoically unperplexed and completely unharmed.

Jack had an idea. He took one of the planks and set it on top of a pile of the other planks so it was suspended a few feet above the ground.

“Are you going to try and break that with your hand again?” Trudy asked. “You remember that The Speed doesn't make you any stronger, don't you? Just faster.”

“Yeah,” said Jack. Instead of hitting the plank with his hand he jumped into the air and landed with all his weight on its center. This time the plank was less silent; it creaked and bent. Jack continued jumping until with a sudden snap the plank split in two. Jack crashed to the ground.

“Why did you do that?” asked Trudy.

“Do you remember what happened with the bottles?” Jack pointed to the planks. “The Misery is going to keep us here shouting at us and insulting us until we've broken every single one of those planks with our bare hands. I can't do that; I'd go crazy.”

“So…”

“So we jump on them and break them before he gets here. Then we tell him that we broke them with our hands.”

Trudy was reluctant. “I don't know, Jack … I like training.”

“Please, Trudy,” Jack pleaded. “I know you like the Misery … but we're partners. And you know how horrible it was for me the last time. Do you really want to watch me being that miserable again?”

Trudy looked at Jack. Then, without saying a word, she put a plank on top of some others and jumped on it.

*   *   *

Jack had just finished jumping on the last plank at the very moment the Misery walked in. He jumped to his feet. “Look what we did with our fists of fury!” said Jack, pointing to the broken planks.

“Look what you did,” said the Misery. He was aghast. He brushed his floppy, black hair out of his eyes and stared at them both. “Look—what—you—did!”

Jack had no idea what was going on.

The Misery's eyes widened with astonishment. “Why would you do this? I've always been nice to you.” From the Misery's point of view this statement was entirely true. He thought he had been nice to Trudy and Jack. This is only because the kind of things that the Misery did to his enemies were truly horrific, outrageous, and not for the squeamish to hear about.

“We just broke the training planks,” said Jack, unsure why the Misery was so upset. “Should we have waited for you first?”

“Waited for me first? These aren't training planks, you idiot.”

“But they look like—”

“They look like scaffolding,”
60
the Misery interjected. “And the reason they look like scaffolding is because they are, in fact, scaffolding.”