SUNKEN SHIP

It was a setup from the start,” I said. “I was just a stooge.”

“Find two more and you could have an act,” said Natalie. “But that just means the fake gremlin’s fate was sealed from the beginning. It’s like a heartbreaking movie. The tragic heroine, the lovelorn boy left alone to wonder what might have been. None of it was your fault.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “But I still feel like I’m the goat. And the thing is—”

Just then Natalie shushed me as Mr. Armbruster peered at the two of us from the front of the classroom. Mr. Armbruster was showing us pictures of a boat called Lucy something that had somehow sunk and caused, like, a whole world war, but we had bigger fish to fry. Like why had the demon set up Mr. Topper? And what had really happened to Pili and her brother in that burned-down house? And when was the pink ever going to grow out of my hair?

“Give it time,” said Natalie after the lifeboats had been launched and the boat had disappeared. “Pretty soon your hair will be half black and half pink, and that always looks kind of cool in a pathetic sort of way. Oh, and I think I found that Olivia.”

“So quickly?”

“What’s she saying about Olivia?” whispered Keir, who was sitting on the other side of me.

“Mr. McGoogan,” said Mr. Armbruster. “Why don’t you share with all of us your thoughts on the Lusitania?”

“Must I, sir?” said Keir.

“I think you must.”

This was not a one-off occurrence, Mr. Armbruster picking on Keir as soon as he opened his mouth. It wasn’t so much harassment as intense interest. Like Keir was a puzzle the teacher was trying to solve. The problem was, even with the bow ties cutting off the circulation to his brain, Mr. Armbruster was just smart enough to maybe succeed, and then where would we be? Down in the deep with Lucy.

“Come now, Keir,” said Mr. Armbruster. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

Keir gave me a look, like it was all my fault—which, I had to admit, it was—then stood, took his baseball cap off, and placed it over his heart.

“They told us there were one hundred and twenty-eight Americans dead when the Germans sank that boat. They sang angry songs and waved flags. It was all part of the march to war that sent our fathers and brothers over there to fight and die. They didn’t tell us then how many millions of bullets were in the belly of that ship, how many tons of shells and shrapnel. That might have muddled things, you see. We the people need to be spoon-fed our stories without any inconvenient facts when we’re sending our loved ones someplace distant to die. We need to be stirred, you see. I guess one hundred and twenty-eight was stirring enough. The end.”

When Keir put his cap back on and sat down, there was a moment of quiet in the classroom, like everyone was embarrassed for him. I mean, what kind of kid gives a speech like that about some stupid boat? And Mr. Armbruster just stared, like he was on the edge of figuring everything out.

“Couldn’t you have just said it was a boat and it was, like, torpedoed?” I whispered when Mr. Armbruster went back to his little slide show. “Sometimes too much is too much.”

“It went over, though, didn’t it?”

“It did not go over.”

“I stunned them with my words.”

“I think they were stunned by something else,” I said.

He looked at my face and then looked away. “I know, I know. Keep my head down.”

“Your oral reports on the Progressive Era are due next week,” said Mr. Armbruster after he turned off the projector. “I’ll have a schedule on our class page by the end of this week. While it is not required, I’m encouraging each of you to talk to me about your project. I might be able to give you some guidance about appropriate reference materials. Once again I want to warn you, you cannot just read something off the web.”

The bell rang and the quiet of the class was suddenly overtaken by burbles of conversation and the sounds of books being stuffed into backpacks. And then above this everyday meaningless noise, Mr. Armbruster said,

“Oh, and Keir? Can you see me before you leave the classroom, please?”

Natalie and I stood outside the classroom, waiting to learn what was going on behind the closed door. What had Mr. Armbruster discovered and what was he going to do about it? I kept expecting to see a pack of police storming down the hallway. I could already see the headline: HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD VAMPIRE CAUGHT IMPERSONATING MIDDLE SCHOOLER. And the cops, if they came, wouldn’t just be taking in Keir. I’d be with him in the big house, hoarding spoons. For some reason something about prison always made me think of spoons.

“What is taking so long?” I said.

“Don’t worry so much,” said Natalie.

“You know, you might end up in as much trouble as Keir and me,” I said.

“You’ll keep me out of it,” she said.

I looked at my friend Natalie and then turned away. “You’re right, I will. So what’s this about Olivia?”

“I joined a group chat of some kids at her school.”

“Really? Did you know any of them?”

“No.”

“Then how did you do that?”

“I lied, naturally,” said Natalie. “And it turns out that someone was at a funeral of an aunt and saw Olivia at the cemetery, just sitting beside a gravestone.”

“Did she say hello?”

“She was too freaked. But I remembered Mrs. Acosta said the same thing. I got the name of the cemetery, too.”

“It sounds creepy.”

“I know. Cool, right?”

“No, not cool,” I said. “Just creepy.”

Right when I said it, the door to the classroom opened and Keir sauntered out. That was the thing about Keir, he was a saunterer. You couldn’t tell what was going on from his walk. Good or bad, great or dreadful, he just sauntered on. The only way to learn what was happening was to ask.

“So?” I said.

“So nothing much,” he said.

“He just wanted to chat?”

“Sort of. He said he likes my comments in class. He called them inspiring. He said he sees a lot in me.”

“I bet he does.”

“But he fears I’m not working up to my potential.”

“Oh man, if I had a nickel for every time—”

“And he’s upset that I’m not handing in my homework.”

“Why aren’t you handing in your homework?”

“Because you told me I couldn’t pay my friends to do it for me.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“Exactly so,” said Keir. “And that’s what I said to Mr. Armbruster. But I told him you’ll try to do better from here on in. He’s looking forward to our presentation.”

“Our presentation?”

“Well, that’s the story. And you’d better get to working, Elizabeth, if I’m going to have anything to say at all.”

Natalie looked at Keir and then at me as I sputtered with frustration, then back at Keir. “I think Mr. Armbruster is wrong, Keir,” she said, a wide smile breaking out. “I think you’re working fully up to your potential.”

“Why, thank you, Natalie. So what’s this about that Olivia?”

“Natalie thinks she found her,” I said. “At a cemetery.”

“Dead?”

“Not yet,” said Natalie. “We’re going to talk to her this afternoon.”

“I can’t make it, sorry,” said Keir.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?” I said.

“I have a thing about cemeteries. I avoid them is what I do. It’s worked out for me so far. Besides, I have plans.”

I gave him a look. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

“Just plans,” he said, avoiding my eyes.

“Make sure Barnabas comes with you.”

“I will,” said Keir. “I’ll meet him outside the school as always. I’ll be back at the house by dinner.”

“Maybe Henry can join us, then,” said Natalie. “Three’s a good number when visiting at a cemetery.”

“Any number’s fine,” said Keir, “as long as you’re not the one they’re visiting.”