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grape to those snobs! Besides, they're not allowed to keep people out! This is
a public school!"
Carol raised an eyebrow. "You try to shut the Twin-kie Squad out of things
every time you get a chance."
"That's different," said Beverly smugly. "I mean,we're normal."
"Why don't you just admit it?" laughed Carol. "You want to be a Grand Knight
so bad it's killing you!"
Beverly scowled at her. "Of course not! But if I did, I'd have no problem
getting in."
"That's not what the bulletin board said."
"My mother is the president of the PTA," snapped Beverly, "and Mr. Silverman
is scared to death of her! I'm going to get her to complain that there's an
elitist club at the school! Then they'll have to let everybody in, or close
up!"
Mr. Richardson stood in the doorway of the conference room, holding one of
the flyers. "All right," he said, looking straight at Douglas. "Who wrote
this?"
Douglas stood up. "I did."
"Well  " began Martin angrily.
Karpoozi Is Not in the Dictionary
153
"He's lying!" interrupted a voice. Martin's head snapped up. Commando was on
his feet, looking defiant. "Doug didn't do it; I did."
"Now, Armando  " began Julia soothingly.
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"It was me!" Gerald Dooley sprang up. "These guys didn't do anything!"
Martin was bewildered. "Now just a minute!"
"1 wrote it!" cried Anita.
"And I helped!" added Ric.
"Don't believe them!" begged Dave. "It's allmy fault!"
"Ya got me with the goods!" Yolanda confessed, back in gangster mode.
"Sit down, all of you!" Martin ordered tersely. And when they were all
settled back in their chairs, he continued, "This meeting of theSpecial
Discussion Group will come to order. Now, who'd like to begin this afternoon?"
The silence was ear-splitting. Even Julia seemed cowed.
"Gerald?" Martin prompted.
But Gerald drew his neck in like a turtle and shook his head.
"Yolanda? Seen any good movies lately?"
Yolanda leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the conference table,
but said nothing.
Martin played his trump card. "Douglas  tell us a little more about
Pefkakia."
But even Douglas had nothing to say. Helplessly, Martin looked to his wife
for chitchat.
"Clh  " she began, "the smell in the school seems to be getting worse. Do you
think they'll ever find it?"
No reply, no comment.
154______________________________THE TW1NK1E SQUAD
"Well  1 hear they're having some kind of specialist come in tomorrow," said
Martin finally, just to fill in the silence.
That was how it went. The Richardsons had a conversation until four-fifteen.
The Grand Knights of the Exalted Karpoozi weren't talking.
.
155
14
Ratcatcher
I he District of Columbia Ratcatcher arrived to find the Thaddeus G. Little
office a beehive of activity. Although the principal's door was kept shut with
a towel jammed into the crack, the smell had definitely spread. Air fresheners
were everywhere, on desks and stuck to walls. The school secretary had
convinced her brother, a Pennsylvania miner, to send her a charcoal dust
filter, which she wore over her nose and mouth all day, even when on the
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telephone. Other office workers tried scented handkerchiefs, and even
swimmers' nose plugs.
Mr. Silverman had a damp dish towel pressed against his face, which gave him
the look of a doctor about to perform surgery. His voice was muffled and nasal
as he spoke on the phone. "No, Mrs. Busby, I don't have a cold. We have some
smell problems here . . . now, what's so important? . . . The Grand Knights of
the Exaltedwhat?"
156_____________________________THE TWINKIE SQUAD
"Ratcatcher," announced the man from the city.
"Just a moment, please," said Mr. Silverman. Into the phone he went on, "Mrs.
Busby, I never heard of any club like that."
The secretary with the charcoal mask called across to him. "Mr. Silverman, I
have one of the parents on the line. Do we have a club called the Knights of
Jacuzzi?"
"Ratcatcher," repeated the man, louder this time.
"Would you justwait a minute!" exclaimed the principal. "Mrs. Busby, 1 assure
you that all school clubs are open to anyone who wants to join."
"Listen, pal," said the Ratcatcher impatiently, "I got field mice in the
Smithsonian, fruit bats in Georgetown, and someone on the Mall saw something
that sounds like it might be a baby stegasaurus. Did you call for the
Ratcatcher, or what?"
"Oh, theRatcatcher!" cried Mr. Silverman, dropping the phone with a clatter.
"Thank goodness you're here! We have this terrible smell!"
"I got a nose," the man acknowledged.
From the telephone, Beverly Busby's mother could be heard shouting. This was
followed by a sharp click.
"Come into my office," said Mr. Silverman. "That's where it seems to be the
worst."
"No!"chorused the office workers as he moved to open the door. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]