Jackie's Jokes (10 page)

"This is all just so odd," Annie said, interrupting Jackie's recounting of the events. "If Frank Freud didn't know about Mommy's secret work until the Wicket told him and then Crazy Serena confirmed it, then why did Mommy have a picture of him in the same file in which she kept pictures of the Wicket and Crazy Serena?"

"Who knows?" Jackie shrugged. "Mommy really is a mystery. But she's also so smart—you know, all of those inventions, even if they don't all always work. Maybe she was just keeping a file on greedy people, people who if they ever found out what she was working on would become a threat."

"What are we supposed to do when Frank Freud returns?" Rebecca asked. "Are we supposed to go back to calling him Principal and pretend none of this ever happened? I don't think I could do that."

"Oh no," Jackie said. "I took care of that."

"How do you mean?" Durinda wondered.

"I persuaded Frank Freud to take early retirement," Jackie said with a satisfied smile. "I believe he said something about moving to Australia."

As we say, it was the first time any of us had faced an evil adult alone, and Jackie had triumphed.

We were proud of her.

***

"But ... but ... but..." Petal butted.

"Yes. Spit it out, Petal," Rebecca directed.

"Who will run the Whistle Stop if Frank Freud is no longer here?" Petal asked.

"She's right," Zinnia said. "It would be odd going to a school without a head."

"First Mommy and Daddy disappeared," Marcia began. She held up a finger in Rebecca's direction and directed, "Don't say it!" before she continued; some days, we didn't want to hear that our parents might be dead. "Then we got rid of the Wicket, then Crazy Serena, and now Frank Freud. At this rate, there won't be any adults left in the world!"

"That's a slight exaggeration," Durinda said.

"We still have the McG and Pete and Mrs. Pete," Jackie said.

Annie's eyes lit up. "Say! That gives me an idea!"

But whatever that idea was, Annie wouldn't say at the moment.

***

When we got home from school, a large gray envelope was waiting in the mailbox. The return address read
Alan Watts, CPA.

"Oh, good!" Annie said, taking it into Daddy's study and getting out the checkbook. "It'll be good to get the Tax Man off our backs."

We gathered round, watching as she signed Daddy's name to the forms and then on a check.

"It seems like an awful lot of money to me," she said, "just to pay for good roads, police and fire people, and other schools."

And yet she didn't look as though she minded at all. It occurred to us then that in the history of the world, no one had ever had more pleasure in paying his or her taxes than Annie Huit.

As if to emphasize this, Annie licked the envelope and then shouted proudly, "We are now officially taxpayers!"

Then she shooed us all out, claiming she had important business to conduct.

***

By the next day, word had gotten around that Frank Freud had left the Whistle Stop and wasn't planning on coming back.

Our classmates, our teacher—everyone was quite upset.

"But this is just so odd," Mandy said, "Principal Freud just leaving like that. He always seemed like such a nice man."

Leave it to Mandy Stenko to think that.

"It's true," the McG said. "He was always a calming influence whenever I had problems with ...
certain students.
"

We knew whom she was talking about.

"But I must say," she added, "lately he just seemed so nervous."

"I wonder who the new head of school will be?" Will wondered.

Most of us were still wondering that—the uncertain future was always a big thing to think about—when there was a knock at the classroom door.

The McG called out, "Enter!" and the man who entered looked like a long pencil with a carrot-colored mop of hair. We recognized that carrot-topped pencil. It was Mr. Paul, head of the Whistle Stop's board of trustees.

"Mrs. McGillicuddy, students," he greeted us.

Then he handed the McG an envelope.

We watched as our teacher opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper; watched the shock register on her face; watched her collapse into her chair, stunned.

"Students," Mr. Paul addressed us, "let me introduce you to your new principal."

We would have congratulated her then, but our new principal had fainted, either from the joy or the horror of it all, it was impossible to tell which.

"But I don't understand! We don't understand!" nine voices shouted. One voice remained suspiciously silent.

After Mr. Paul had gotten the McG a cup of water and the McG had been revived, Mr. Paul asked her, "Would you like to read them this letter, or shall I?"

The McG, still too stunned to speak, waved her hand at him.

Mr. Paul cleared his throat, and then he read out the following:

Dear Mr. Paul and the Board,

It has come to my attention that Frank Freud has resigned as principal of the Whistle Stop. Good riddance! I say. But now you will need a new principal. I can think of no better candidate for the job than Phyllis—also known as Hilly—McGillicuddy. As a matter of fact, if you
don't
make her principal, active immediately, I shall remove my daughters from your school and you shall never see another cent of my vast fortune.

Unlike the notes we found behind the loose stone in our drawing room, this note was signed. And the signature, we saw, as Mr. Paul passed the letter around the room, was
Robert Huit.

"As you can see," Mr. Paul said, "we really had no choice in the matter. Why, without the Huit money—"

"And without the Eights," Will continued, "the Whistle Stop would be nothing."

"But I just don't see how this is possible," the McG said, looking at us. "Isn't your father in France?"

"He came back briefly before having to leave again,"

Annie said. Then she flashed a huge grin.

***

"Well, this is quite a turn of events," Mandy said once we were at recess, the McG safely on the sidelines watching us.

Mr. Paul had explained that even though the McG's appointment as principal was effective immediately, she would go on being our teacher until a proper replacement could be hired.

"I wonder who the new teacher will be?" Marcia wondered.

"I hope she'll be nice," Petal said.

"And pretty," Zinnia added.

"I just hope she's not nuts," Rebecca said with a scowl.

"I wonder what it'll be like to have the McG for a principal?" Durinda wondered.

"Well, she is annoying and only sort of evil," Georgia said, "so it'll probably be okay."

"Sort of anything we can handle," Jackie said.

"True," Rebecca said, "it's only the purely evil that present a problem."

She should know, we thought.

All the time we were debating what the new teacher would be like and what the old teacher would be like as the new principal, Will was practically hopping from foot to foot with excitement. And, like a bag of popcorn in the microwave, he finally reached his limit.

"I can't
believe
you!" he at last burst out.

"What?" Annie asked innocently.

"
You,
"Will said."
You
are responsible for writing that letter to Mr. Paul and the board, aren't you?"

Annie didn't say anything. None of us did.

"I can't
believe
this!" Will said. "You're all just amazing! You've changed the whole face of this school! You've selected the next principal! Why, you Eights aren't like ordinary humans anymore—
you're kingmakers!
"

Mandy was looking at Will as though he'd gone loony on us. "What is he talking about?" she demanded.

We looked at her, debated, and then saw the time had come.

"Mandy," we said, "we have something to tell you."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After we'd told Mandy about our parents' disappearance, the fact that we were eight little girls living home alone, and the discovery of some of our powers and gifts, it was her turn to shout "I don't
believe
you!" Only when she shouted it, she didn't mean it in a happily nice way like Will had. It was clear that Mandy Stenko thought we were nuts.

"If you've really got all these special powers," Mandy said, crossing her arms over her chest, "prove it."

"I can file taxes," Annie said.

"Pfft." Mandy tossed her head. "My dad can do that."

"Right. And he's an adult," Georgia said.

"So there," Rebecca added for good measure.

"Maybe you actually need to come over and watch Annie sign checks sometime," Zinnia suggested. "She's awfully good at it."

"
And,
"Petal added, "
she
can drive a car."

Mandy's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "A toy car?"

"No," Annie said simply, "the purple Hummer."

"We put dictionaries on the seat for her to sit on," Marcia said.

"And she wears a Daddy disguise," Jackie added.

"You're next, Durinda," Annie prompted when it became obvious Mandy still didn't believe us about the car; we knew it wouldn't do for Annie to steal one from the parking lot then and there just to show her.

"Who should I freeze?" Durinda asked.

"Do me!" we all shouted, except for Zinnia, who of course couldn't be frozen.

"Oh, please do me!" Will said. "I've never been frozen before!"

We all liked to keep Will happy, so we weren't surprised when Durinda tapped her leg rapidly three times and then sharp-pointed at Will, who froze where he stood.

"Oh," Mandy said, "he's just pretending to be frozen. He always backs you all up in anything you do."

"Try to make him move then," Durinda said with a shrug.

So Mandy tried to move Will's arm, but it wouldn't budge. Then she jumped up and down in front of him like a little maniac, but Will didn't blink. Finally, she pinched him, hard.

Still nothing.

"Huh," she said. "He's even better than those palace guards my family saw when we visited the queen's house in London."

Leave it to Mandy: no matter what the conversation was about, she found a way to turn the topic to all her exotic travels.

After a few minutes, Will came unfrozen, but we could tell Mandy didn't believe he'd ever been frozen at all.

So then, right before Mandy's disbelieving eyes, Georgia twitched her nose twice and made herself invisible.

And for good measure, Jackie turned herself into a yellow dot streaking all around the playground.

When Georgia made herself visible again and Jackie returned to us in full form, Mandy rubbed her eyes. It looked as though her red hair was standing on end.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it," Mandy said.

"This is our world," Jackie said, "and welcome to it."

"It's
amazing!
" Mandy said. "I've gone to school with you for years and I had no idea.
You're
amazing!"

"Oh," Jackie said with a smile, "you should see what our
cats
can do."

***

When we got home from school, those very cats greeted us at the door and began circling around Jackie. Jaguar drew close and nudged at her ankles.

"Have my socks fallen down again?" Jackie asked.

"No," Zinnia said. "I think they have something they want to show you."

Seven of us followed behind Jackie as eight cats led her to the drawing room.

And there, draped across the back of a sofa, was a large piece of brilliant red cloth.

Well, we hadn't put it there.

"Your gift!" Zinnia cried. "This must be your gift!"

"I wonder what it is," Marcia said.

"It just looks like a piece of red cloth," Annie said.

"But I suppose it could be a dress," Durinda said.

"Or maybe a really long skirt," Petal said.

"Perhaps it's curtains?" Georgia suggested.

"Well, one thing we know it's not," Rebecca said.

Fourteen eyes looked at her, a single question in those eyes: what
was
she talking about?

"We know it's not a dog," Rebecca said. Then she added "Woof!" for good measure.

"Pick it up!" Zinnia urged Jackie. "See what it is!"

So Jackie picked it up and held it out for all of us to see.

The large piece of brilliant red cloth was a cape.

Jackie swung it wide, then wrapped it around her shoulders.

"It fits perfectly!" Zinnia cried.

Zinnia was right. The cape came to Jackie's ankles. It was neither too long, which is a bad thing in a cape as it causes a person to trip, nor too short, shortness being best avoided in a cape as it makes a person look like she's wearing a capelet.

"Ohhh!" Zinnia said, awe in her voice. "It's
lovely!
"

"You look like a superhero in that," Annie said, not seeming to mind at all that someone else was center stage.

"You look like Superman," Durinda said.

"Except that you're a girl," Georgia said, "and a lot shorter."

"Is there a J on the back?" Petal asked, walking around Jackie to look. "You know, like Superman has that giant
S
on his chest?"

"Don't be daft," Rebecca said. "A giant letter would be tacky. You know Mommy and Daddy never liked anything to have monograms all over it."

At the thought of Mommy and Daddy, we grew sad.

"I'll bet they'd both be proud of you," Annie said to Jackie, "the way you handled Frank Freud."

Jackie's eyes filled with tears. It was tough to tell if she was very happy or still sad; maybe she was both right then.