“Sorry about that.”
“I could suspend you for life for taking that,” he said. “But now that you’ve seen inside, I guess I’d better not, huh?”
I looked over at him, wondering what the heck he could mean. Surely he wasn’t going to kill me because I’d seen his comic books and polka posters! “Why not?” I asked.
“I guess you were probably expecting to see dead bodies or piles of money or something in here?” he asked. “Those dumb rumors just won’t die.”
I shrugged. I didn’t want to look as stupid as I felt.
“It’s just where I keep all my stuff,” he said casually. “My wife hates polka music. Won’t let me play it in the house. And she doesn’t like me wasting my money on comic books, so I have to keep my collection hidden in here. I have to be really careful not to let anyone see it. If the teachers knew, it would probably get back to my wife. She and Coach Walker have tea together all the time. And then I’d be in big trouble!”
“So that’s why you won’t let anyone see this room?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said. “No dead bodies or anything. Just the stuff I don’t want my wife to know about.”
I took another look around, feeling like a real idiot. I was just Jack’s very own version of Tony Zunker. He was probably just telling me these lies to see if I’d believe them. Heprobably remembered that Mr. Gormulka went around whistling polka music and just made up that story about Will Hannon so I’d be freaked out if I heard him whistling!
I felt like the most gullible person alive.
“I think I’d better get back to the classroom,” I said.
“Not so fast,” said Mr. Gormulka. “I ought to give you indoor recess or detention, at least, for snooping around where you’re not allowed. But I’d rather just have you promise me that you won’t tell anyone what’s really in here. If anyone asks, tell them some story about dead bodies or something. My wife’s already heard that one.”
I shrugged. “I
guess
I can keep my mouth shut,” I said, “but can I have the calculator back? The one that got taken up yesterday?”
“Is that all you were after?” said Mr. Gormulka. “You’re getting it back on Monday, anyway.”
“I know,” I said. “But it’s my brother’s. I wasn’t supposed to take it. And he needs it tomorrow.”
“Fair enough, I guess,” said Mr. Gormulka. “I wouldn’t want your brother to flunk out of whatever grade he’s in now because of me.”
He walked over to the top shelf, took the calculator down, and handed it to me. “Here,” he said. “Promise you won’t tell anyone what’s in here?”
“I promise,” I said.
“And I’ll take the key back, too,” he said.
I handed it over to him.
“Just don’t let me catch you snooping around again,okay?” he said. “When your brother and that Mark Brueggen kid were poking around, people started thinking this place was some kind of Chamber of Secrets or something. I don’t wanna go through that again!”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Good,” he said. “Now get back to your class.”
And I walked out of the room, back to my classroom.
When I had left to break into that room, I had been Andrew “Danger” North, superspy.
But when I walked back into class, I was just regular old Andrew North.
When Neil came up and said, “Nice job on the solo, An-
dy,
” I didn’t even have the energy to call him a cheese bag.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Agent North had never felt so down. All his life, all he had wanted to do was be a spy. He had been training since he was six. And now he was going to have to go back to being a regular kid, just like everyone else. Just a regular kid with messy hair and no pet monkey. No flying car or pants-dropping whistle, either. It was a lot to get used to. He had planned to be a spy until he was an old man. But now his plans had been thwarted.
Perhaps he could join a polka band. …
Through the intercom, we could hear the fifth
“I could suspend you for life for taking that,” he said. “But now that you’ve seen inside, I guess I’d better not, huh?”
I looked over at him, wondering what the heck he could mean. Surely he wasn’t going to kill me because I’d seen his comic books and polka posters! “Why not?” I asked.
“I guess you were probably expecting to see dead bodies or piles of money or something in here?” he asked. “Those dumb rumors just won’t die.”
I shrugged. I didn’t want to look as stupid as I felt.
“It’s just where I keep all my stuff,” he said casually. “My wife hates polka music. Won’t let me play it in the house. And she doesn’t like me wasting my money on comic books, so I have to keep my collection hidden in here. I have to be really careful not to let anyone see it. If the teachers knew, it would probably get back to my wife. She and Coach Walker have tea together all the time. And then I’d be in big trouble!”
“So that’s why you won’t let anyone see this room?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said. “No dead bodies or anything. Just the stuff I don’t want my wife to know about.”
I took another look around, feeling like a real idiot. I was just Jack’s very own version of Tony Zunker. He was probably just telling me these lies to see if I’d believe them. Heprobably remembered that Mr. Gormulka went around whistling polka music and just made up that story about Will Hannon so I’d be freaked out if I heard him whistling!
I felt like the most gullible person alive.
“I think I’d better get back to the classroom,” I said.
“Not so fast,” said Mr. Gormulka. “I ought to give you indoor recess or detention, at least, for snooping around where you’re not allowed. But I’d rather just have you promise me that you won’t tell anyone what’s really in here. If anyone asks, tell them some story about dead bodies or something. My wife’s already heard that one.”
I shrugged. “I
guess
I can keep my mouth shut,” I said, “but can I have the calculator back? The one that got taken up yesterday?”
“Is that all you were after?” said Mr. Gormulka. “You’re getting it back on Monday, anyway.”
“I know,” I said. “But it’s my brother’s. I wasn’t supposed to take it. And he needs it tomorrow.”
“Fair enough, I guess,” said Mr. Gormulka. “I wouldn’t want your brother to flunk out of whatever grade he’s in now because of me.”
He walked over to the top shelf, took the calculator down, and handed it to me. “Here,” he said. “Promise you won’t tell anyone what’s in here?”
“I promise,” I said.
“And I’ll take the key back, too,” he said.
I handed it over to him.
“Just don’t let me catch you snooping around again,okay?” he said. “When your brother and that Mark Brueggen kid were poking around, people started thinking this place was some kind of Chamber of Secrets or something. I don’t wanna go through that again!”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Good,” he said. “Now get back to your class.”
And I walked out of the room, back to my classroom.
When I had left to break into that room, I had been Andrew “Danger” North, superspy.
But when I walked back into class, I was just regular old Andrew North.
When Neil came up and said, “Nice job on the solo, An-
dy,
” I didn’t even have the energy to call him a cheese bag.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Agent North had never felt so down. All his life, all he had wanted to do was be a spy. He had been training since he was six. And now he was going to have to go back to being a regular kid, just like everyone else. Just a regular kid with messy hair and no pet monkey. No flying car or pants-dropping whistle, either. It was a lot to get used to. He had planned to be a spy until he was an old man. But now his plans had been thwarted.
Perhaps he could join a polka band. …
Through the intercom, we could hear the fifth
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