Janitors: Secrets of New Forest Academy Page 13
“One more minute,” she announced. “Please wrap things up and shut down your computers for the night.”
Desperately, Spencer clicked Send once again.
MESSAGE FAILED. UNABLE TO SEND. BLOCKED DOMAIN.
Students were logging off and powering down their computers. They headed toward the door of the lab, conversing casually.
“Maybe something’s wrong with the computers,” Daisy said. “Looks like Min’s got some kind of virus.”
Spencer turned to where Daisy was pointing. Min’s computer screen showed hundreds of numbers separated by commas and dashes.
“Min!” Daisy whispered. “We’re having computer trouble too! What should we do?”
“Trouble?” Min said, logging off and shutting down without delay. “I was programming a computer game.” Of course. Min didn’t just play computer games, he made them. “It’s a physics-based puzzle game. Should be quite entertaining once I’ve finished.”
Spencer glared at Min. How could he seem so unsympathetic? Min didn’t care at all that he’d gotten Spencer transferred to the brown team.
“Maybe you can help us,” Daisy said.
“No!” said Spencer. “We don’t need his help!”
“We might not get another chance to send this!” Daisy said.
“Send what?” Min asked.
Daisy pointed to the computer, and Min took a step closer. His dark eyes scanned the pop-up. “The site is blocked,” he said, commandeering the mouse.
“Don’t read the e-mail,” Daisy blurted.
Min scanned the address. “The filter won’t allow you to send e-mails to a janmail account.”
“We need to,” Daisy said. “It’s very important. Can you get it through?”
“You want me to hack through the Academy’s security firewall?”
“Hack? Isn’t that what they say when a cat coughs up a hair ball?” Daisy made a grossed-out expression. “I don’t want you to hack up anything. I was just hoping you could send that e-mail.”
Min shook his head, black hair bouncing. “That could get me expelled from the Academy.”
“You haven’t even been accepted yet,” Spencer happily pointed out.
“Then getting expelled would certainly ruin the odds of my acceptance.” He folded his arms. “I decline.”
Spencer was trying to control the frustration he was feeling. “Forget it, Daisy. Min’s just selfish. He doesn’t want to help someone from a different team.”
“This has nothing to do with teams,” Min said. “It is simply a question of ethics.”
“This has everything to do with teams!” Spencer said. “That’s why you requested for me to get traded. You thought I was ruining the blue team’s chances—your chances!”
“That’s not true,” Min said.
“Then why’d you do it?” Spencer said. “You thought I looked better in brown?”
Min suddenly dropped into the chair and took control of the mouse. Spencer looked at Daisy, not even trying to mask his surprise at Min’s sudden compliance.
In just a few seconds, Min had found the source of the blockage. “It requires an administrator password to disable the firewall. It will take me a few moments to overwrite it. We’ll have to restart the computer for it to take effect.”
“Wow,” Daisy said. “You’re good.”
“Did you ever think I wasn’t?” Min typed a few letters and numbers into the keyboard.
“All right, you three!” the media specialist called. Spencer looked up, trying to mask the guilty look on his face. “Computer time is past over.”
All the other recruits had set off toward the dorms, leaving Min, Spencer, and Daisy alone. The media specialist started toward them. “Turn it off.”
“Hurry,” Spencer urged. Min was typing furiously.
Daisy backed away from Min and Spencer until she reached a different computer. “This one’s got a virus!” she shouted to the media specialist. The distraction was enough for Min to quickly restart Spencer’s computer.
The woman approached Daisy. “What’s wrong with it?” the specialist asked.
Daisy pointed. “The screen’s all black.”
“That’s because the computer is off, dear.”
Spencer’s computer rebooted, and Min opened the e-mail draft and clicked Send.
YOUR MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT.
“Sounds like a bad virus to me,” Daisy said, trying to keep the woman’s eyes away from Spencer and Min. “A virus that turns the whole computer off?”
Spencer made a celebratory fist, but Min wasn’t finished yet. He quickly pulled up the control panel and began erasing his steps, leaving no trace of his unauthorized hack.
The media specialist shook her head at Daisy. “The virus didn’t shut off the computer. The student did. Just like those two boys should be doing!”
She whirled back to Spencer and Min. The boys were standing side by side, the computer behind them successfully shut down.
Under the stare of the media specialist, the three kids hurried out of the computer lab into the cool night. Min didn’t say a word until they were crossing the road headed toward the dorms.
“So,” he said. “Who’s Walter?”
“Hey!” Daisy glared at him. “You weren’t supposed to read that e-mail!”
“Hard not to, when the subject line says Academy in danger.”
“It’s not dangerous for you,” Spencer said. “Forget about it.”
Min stopped in the middle of the dark street, dry leaves fluttering past him. “You two are different from the other recruits. You don’t actually want to get accepted into the Academy, do you?”
“Is that why you wanted me off the blue team?” Spencer asked. “Is that why you sent the request to Director Garcia?”
“Actually,” Min said, “it wasn’t me.” In the silence that followed, Min folded his thin arms.
“What?” Spencer said.
“I only threatened to submit your change after P.E. I didn’t actually do it,” Min said. “In truth, I was frustrated to see an asset like you leave the team.”
“But ...” said Daisy to Spencer. “If it wasn’t Min ... then who else would want you off the blue team?”
“Perhaps that is not the question,” said Min. “Perhaps we should ask who would want you on the brown team.”
“Dez?” Daisy lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”
“Slick,” Spencer whispered.
“But why?” Daisy asked.
Spencer had spent enough time with the brown team to have an idea why Slick would want him there. “The brown team lets a lot of things happen that shouldn’t happen. Slick knows he’ll have a better chance of getting me if I’m surrounded by browns. The blue team was too protective.”
Min cocked his head. “You believe the custodian is ... out to get you?” He didn’t look convinced.
“He’s not a custodian,” said Daisy. “He’s a janitor.”
“Look,” Spencer said, “I know it sounds crazy, but we might be in danger. We didn’t come to the Academy to get accepted. We came to get away from some problems back home.”
“And now you’re afraid the problems have followed you here,” Min assumed.
Daisy nodded. “That’s why the e-mail was so important. Walter will tell us what to do.”
“Truly fascinating.” Min continued walking. “But if you really are in danger, I don’t suggest that you continue sneaking away from the team.”
“What do you mean?” Spencer tried to sound innocent.
“Two nights ago, you secretly left the dormitory at a quarter to midnight,” Min explained. “Then last evening, you left the cafeteria toward the end of dinner and didn’t return until twenty minutes before lights-out.”
“Wow,” Daisy said. “How did you see us? I thought we were pretty sneaky.”
“I watch my team closely,” said Min.
“That’s why I’m worried.” Spencer looked toward the shadowy dorms. “I’
m not on your team anymore.”
Chapter 28
“Come on, now.”
Spencer awoke to a soft click. He was lying in his new bed, surrounded by the boys of the brown team. Dez was snoring in the bunk below him.
Spencer lay very still. Had he imagined the noise? It sounded like a door opening. But maybe it was just the heater clicking on. Or maybe he had dreamt it.
How had he fallen asleep? Spencer had been determined to stay awake in case Slick tried to enter the brown team’s dorm, but fatigue had overwhelmed him.
Now the heater clicked on, providing a soft background hum and proving to Spencer that the first sound he’d heard was something else. Spencer ducked his head under his blanket and hit the glow button on his watch.
2:18 a.m.
Using the glow like a flashlight, Spencer searched through the sheets. It was there when he fell asleep ...
No sooner did he find what he was looking for than Spencer’s covers were suddenly ripped away, his sheet slipping to the floor. Spencer let out a sharp cry and rolled over. Slick stood on the bunk ladder, a short-handled dirty mop pointed directly at Spencer.
“Go ahead,” the janitor said. “Give another little girly scream. Every boy in this room is sleeping on fifty dollars. Fifty dollars that I gave them after dinner if they promised to sleep through the night, no matter what kind of ruckus they heard.”
Spencer slid back against the wall. Fifty bucks? That was the going rate? He glared at the brown team members, their faces down in their pillows, pretending to sleep on. Below, Dez’s snoring had ceased. These scumbags were even worse than Spencer had suspected! If they’d sell out a fellow student, there was no telling what else they might do.
“Come on, now,” Slick whispered. “You’re going to come with me, and we’ll talk ’bout that package.”
He ordered Spencer down from the top bunk. The boy dropped barefoot onto the chill wood floor. Slick’s hand wrapped around Spencer’s neck like an iron clamp, and the janitor dragged the boy to the doorway.
Spencer kept his head down as they entered the hall, letting Slick drag him without resistance. Spencer’s heart was hammering in his ears. Each thump told him to pull away and run. But he forced himself to wait for the right moment. He might only have one chance to make a good escape.
They were almost outside when Spencer saw what he was looking for. Instantly, he pulled away. Slick let out a surprised gasp as the boy slipped easily through his fingers. Spencer reached the wall and turned, showing Slick the latex glove he had slipped on when he ducked under the blankets.
Slick shifted his mop, preparing to ensnare Spencer, whose glove would be useless against the Glopified strings. But the janitor hesitated as Spencer reached for something on the wall.
“You might be able to pay off the brown team,” Spencer said. “But it’s going to get expensive when everyone else wakes up.”
Then, for the second time in a week, Spencer pulled the fire alarm.
Chapter 29
“It’s kind of sloppy.”
Nothing could have been more awkward than breakfast the next morning. Spencer sat at the edge of the brown team’s table, aware of all the eyes on him. He’d made a stir with the fire alarm last night. Slick had ducked out before anyone saw him. To avoid discipline, Spencer claimed that he had pulled the alarm in a half-dreaming, delirious state of mind. Even Daisy believed him.
Only the brown team knew that something more had happened. Likely, Dez was the only person who understood why the janitor would want to capture Spencer in the middle of the night. But at breakfast, Dez seemed unaffected by last night’s dealings. He was at the opposite end of the table, having a belching contest with the two newest brown team recruits.
In all, Dez’s disorderly team had reached eighteen people! The yellow team had dissolved completely, green and red fluctuated frequently, but the blue team stayed stagnant.
Spencer was dumping his breakfast leftovers when Director Garcia took him aside.
“How are you adjusting to your new team?” he asked.
“Honestly?” said Spencer. “I’m not.”
Garcia nodded, as if expecting this answer. “Then you’ll take this as good news. I’ve decided to trade you back to the blue team.” He pulled out Spencer’s old handkerchief.
Back to the blue team! Back to the watchful eyes of Daisy and Min! Spencer took the blue cloth and followed Garcia out of the cafeteria. He didn’t glance back at his crude brown team members, but Spencer assumed they would be equally happy to see him go.
Walking alongside Garcia, Spencer gathered the courage to mention Slick. But the opportunity died as another recruit joined them. She was a talkative fourth-grade girl named Alex. She had a long, blondish ponytail and a story about everything. Garcia was transferring her to the red team, but her nonstop talking made it impossible for Spencer to tell Garcia about Slick’s threats.
The director led Spencer and Alex outside the main building, across campus, and up the steps of the art building. Teams were spending the morning integrated into New Forest Academy classrooms, learning alongside the full-time Academy students.
Alex was just finishing a crazy, made-up story about a giant bug when Director Garcia dropped her off at the red team’s classroom. The art room was just across the hall, and before Spencer could say anything, Garcia ushered him through the doorway.
“Blue team,” Garcia announced. “You all remember Spencer? He is rejoining your company.”
Spencer held up his blue handkerchief happily. There was scattered applause, more obligatory than heartfelt. Regardless, it was good to be back with teammates he could trust. Spencer found Daisy instantly.
“Glad you’re back,” she said. She had a dozen stamp pads in front of her, but somehow, most of the ink seemed to be on her hands and not on the stamps she was using.
“Me too.” Spencer looked down at Daisy’s paper, quickly filling with stamps and smudges from her fingers. “So ... what exactly is that?”
“Art.” She tilted her head to see it from a new angle. “Actually, I’m not really sure. I just started stamping things. But now I think I want to do handprints.”
Before Spencer could tell her that it didn’t sound like a good idea, Daisy pressed her hand onto the red stamp pad.
“We need to talk,” Spencer whispered. “Slick tried to get me last night. The browns let him do it.”
But before Daisy could respond, Jenna was pressing in on their conversation.
“I was hoping you’d come back! I wanted to show you this.” She handed him a piece of paper. “What do you think?”
The drawing was amazing, as far as quality. Jenna was apparently quite a talented artist. The content, however, made Spencer feel hot and uncomfortable. It pictured two people holding hands, walking down a dirt road. The whole thing was framed in a giant pink heart.
“Gee ...” Spencer didn’t know what to say. “Looks like two people holding hands.” Spencer forced a smile and handed the artwork back to Jenna.
He turned away and saw Director Garcia walking slowly around the art room, greeting students and commenting on projects.
Spencer noticed the discipline of the full-time Academy students in the classroom. Each one spoke a formal greeting and extended a handshake to the director.
Garcia paused behind Min. Using scissors and colored paper, the Asian boy had snipped out dozens of geometric shapes. Min was in the process of gluing the shapes onto a larger piece of paper.
Min shook the director’s hand and explained his project. “It is a beta-glucan polysaccharide, as seen at the molecular level.”
Garcia nodded, impressed. “How very interesting.”
Director Garcia passed several students before stopping behind an unassuming Daisy Gates. He cleared his throat and held out his hand for the formal greeting. Daisy whirled around, taken completely by surprise. Before she realized what she was doing, and before Spencer could stop her, Daisy thrust her filthy hand into Direc
tor Garcia’s.
All eyes shifted to the handshake as Daisy realized what she’d just done. They released hands with a squelch of red stamp ink. The whole class held its breath as Director Garcia studied his hand.
At last, his familiar smile cracked the look on his face. “It appears I caught you red-handed.” The students broke into relieved laughter.
“That’s okay,” Daisy said. “I just started doing handprints.” She pointed to her sloppy artwork. “Here’s a good spot.”
Director Garcia leaned down and pressed his hand onto the blank area on the page. The art teacher, Ms. Bennett, was suddenly at Garcia’s side with a moist paper towel.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. Ms. Bennett tried to wipe the director’s hand while shooting a glare at Daisy. “Clearly, this recruit didn’t follow directions. I told them each to create an art project that best represents their personalities.” Ms. Bennett turned to Daisy and pointed at her paper. “You think this mess of a project represents you?”
“Well ...” Daisy made a face at her paper. “It’s kind of sloppy.”
The art teacher followed up with an immediate question. “Do you think we have room for sloppy projects at New Forest Academy?”
Garcia finished wiping his fingers and held up a hand to calm the art teacher, as if his broad smile wouldn’t do that. When Ms. Bennett stepped back, Garcia turned to Daisy.
“Remind me of your name,” he said.
“Daisy Gates.”
Director Garcia nodded and faced the art teacher again. “I think Daisy Gates understood your directions very well,” he said. “The assignment wasn’t to make a clean project. It was to make something that reflects the student’s personality. If Daisy feels like she is sloppy, then shouldn’t her project represent that?”
The art teacher floundered in front of her boss, evidently trying to think of a professional response.
“Not a single project here is wrong,” Director Garcia said to the class.
“Phew!” Daisy wiped a hand across her forehead, leaving an inky smudge above her eyebrow.
“To say that a project is right or wrong would be to suggest that some personalities are right and others are wrong,” said the director. He turned once more to the art teacher. “Are you ready to make that judgment?”