Story
Tell me if you think of a good title for this....Dr. Rogland sat back in the swivel chair in the science room and smiled at the unfortunate Julz, Peter, and Chalice, who were taking one of Mr. Pfefferle’s many make-up economics exams.
"So, Mr. Pfefferle, does this exam only have one question?" asked Dr. Rogland. "‘What is the definition of the universe? List three.’"
Mr. Pfefferle laughed, and Dr. Rogland contentedly stuck his plastic fork into his tin of sardines. Little did he know that it was the last meal he would eat for a long time.
Twenty-two minutes later, the Applied Science students started milling into the art room. It was Bonnie who noticed it first. She was trying to decide what to say about it when Emily noticed her staring at the whiteboard.
"Oh, my goodness! Look everybody! Listen!" yelled Emily A.
The class was suddenly silent as everybody stared at the whiteboard. There was a note on it in what could be nothing but Dr. Rogland’s handwriting:
Applied Science Class:
I have been kidnapped. If you ever want to see me again, bring $100 to Cutter’s Point by 9:00 next Friday and leave it under the chess board on the coffee table. Do not call the police or try to catch the criminal or you will never see me again.
Watch the movie on basic car maintenance today and write down 10 test questions and answers about the film, due Thursday. Don’t fall asleep!
Laura burst into tears. "Let’s call the police!"
"No, we can’t do that, or we’ll never see him again," said Emma. "Listen, this is real. It’s his handwriting. We have to make a plan."
"We can’t trust any of the teachers. What if one of them was the criminal?" asked Michelle.
And just like that, everyone realized it was true. They couldn’t trust anybody.
"What if it was Mr. Pfefferle?" asked Sam. "He’s always throwing away the blackboard markers because they get squished. Maybe he thought Dr. Rogland was doing it and got annoyed."
"No, that couldn’t be," said Juliette. "He was giving us our economics test all during lunch, so it couldn’t have been him."
"That’s right!" said Sarah C. "Maybe he can help us. Let’s go over to the Honors Physics class and tell them about it."
The students all trooped out into the hall. Michael, who was just giving his locker one last sniff before heading upstairs for his two-period study hall, and Jessica, who was talking to Michael, were standing out in the hall.
"What--ever," said Jessica, doing her hand motion. "As if that would, like, ever happen." Michael decided to pop into the art room and snap a quick photo of the board on his cellphone camera.
"No, really, it’s got to be true," said Emily W. "The criminal didn’t want anybody to recognize his handwriting, so he forced Dr. Rogland to write his own ransom note on the board!"
When they had convinced Jessica, Michael (who had come back) held the door open for everybody and they all filed into Mr. Pfefferle’s room. The Honors Physics students were just settling down for class: Stephen was booting up his laptop, Peter was getting his 3x5 cards ready for his tiny notes, and Daniel was pulling out his copy of Good Night, Moon. Rosemary was setting her seventeenth pencil neatly on the table. "I hope I don’t run out this time," she thought.
Just then, Mr. Pfefferle rushed in with his Happy Dragon takeout, 12-oz. Cutter’s Point drip coffee, and chocolate "toroidal sphere of revolution."
"Ah, looks like the Applied Science students decided to join us as we watch The Proof, the movie about how Andrew Wiles only took seven years and two hundred pages to proove… " he fell silent as he saw the woebegone faces of the students.
"Look, Mr. Pfefferle," said Michael, and showed Mr. Pfefferle his cellphone. In the seriousness of the situation, Mr. Pfefferle even forgot to fine Michael for the two tiny holes in the knee of Michael’s jeans. He just squinted at the tiny image.
"Well, it appears that Dr. Rogland has been kidnapped," he concluded. "If only we had a lawyer in the room—"
"I want to be a lawyer!" Sarah A. announced. "Except that I don’t."
"Hem, in the absence of attorneys, then, we will have to do the best we can ourselves. Let’s make a list of the suspects." Mr. Pfefferle grabbed a marker, began to write on the board, promptly hurled it at the trashcan, grabbed a new one, and then wrote:
Suspects
Emily A. grabbed a sheet of notebook paper and a pencil and began diligently scribbling notes.
"Oooh! I know! I know!" yelled Krissie, raising her hand and bouncing up and down. "Mr. Hannula kidnapped Dr. Rogland! Remember Dr. Rogland’s retirement celebration? We all heard Mr. Hannula say how jealous he was that Dr. Rogland gets all the attention!"
Mr. Pefferle wrote:
Mr. Hannula
Just then, Sarah H gasped and rushed out of the room. Clinton happily recapped his water bottle. There was water all over Sarah’s seat.
Mr. Pfefferle swung his finger around the room and stopped at… "Aaaaariel!"
Ariel said quietly, "Maybe it was Mr. St. John. He’s really protective of his building, and he hates it when people eat in the classrooms. And" she giggled, "we know how Dr. Rogland always makes the science room smell like squid preserved in alcohol and 100-year-old frogs and stuff. Maybe Mr. St. John got sick of it."
"Good," said Rachael.
Chalice gasped. "Ariel’s right! Dr. Rogland was eating some sardines at lunchtime, right before he was kidnapped! Mr. St. John probably walked by and couldn’t stand the smell! Good job, Ariel!"
Mr. Pfefferle wrote:
Mr. St. John
Calvin raised his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom? I’m a good boy!"
"Yes," said Mr. Pfefferle. "Tyler."
"Perhaps we ought not to disregard the distinct possibility of Pastor DeMass’s guilt," said Tyler. "Given his Middle Eastern countenance, he could conceivably be a terrorist, and the motive is unmistakeably intuitive: he merely desired funds towards a new chess set. Where else to deposit the capital but beneath his favorite chessboard at Cutter’s Point?"
"Too obvious," said Mr. Pfefferle. "Even though I have always taught you that FOREIGNERS ARE RATS!! I went to Cutter’s right before I came here, and Pastor DeMass was working on his sermon. There wouldn’t have been time for him to kidnap Dr. Rogland and get back to Cutter’s in time. He wrote on the board:
Pastor DeMass
"Ooooh, shut down, Tyler!" said Josh.
Just then, Mr. Bond entered the room.
"Hip, hip! Modern Lit class, I forgot to give you this high-octane homework in class yesterday, which necessitates that I give it to you now. I’ve decided to streamline your homework, so all you need to do for just one moment here is analyze the hermaneutics of Michael’s SAT essay here. Bleed all over it. No holds barred. It got a 12 from those postmodern CollegeBoard graders, who insist that there are no wrong answers. There is a panoply of good things about this quintessential essay. Let’s all give Michael a round of applause. MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!"
While everybody was clapping, Michael whispered to Rosemary, "You don’t think it could have been him, do you?"
"OK, so he was helping me with my sonnet all of lunch, so he couldn’t have been there," said Rosemary.
"All right, then, I’ll tell him about it." Michael raised his hand.
Mr. Bond quickly shushed everybody. "Yes, Michael. Do you have some advice for us?"
"No, but I do have some news. Dr. Rogland has been kidnapped."
"This is a big-time, unmitigated disaster, end of discussion!" exlaimed Mr. Bond. "But do we have proof positive that he is being held a bond-slave?"
Michael showed Mr. Bond his cellphone image. "Yes, this is Dr. Rogland’s handwriting," admitted Mr. Bond. "I must say he did not use very high-register language, though." He went on to talk about how one should take every opportunity, to witness, using winsome language, even to our captors, because "favorable conditions never come." By the time he had finished, the periods were almost over. Mr. Pfefferle barely had time to announce his resignation before the bell rang.
"OK, so we didn’t get very far on finding out who the culprit was, did we, Effie?" Rosemary said through her tears over Mr. Pfefferle’s announcement.
"Yeah. But we can still ransom him if we pool together enough money," said Effie. "We would only need to pitch in, what, $5 each? If 20 people brought money, that would give us $100."
"All right, I’ll tell people." Rosemary hoisted her backpack over one shoulder.
The next day was uncomfortable, to say the least. Rodi, Joel, and Sean talked to Will and Jack, who had been sitting in the lunchroom all through lunch on Wednesday, and Will and Jack said they had seen Mr. Hannula sitting and drinking out of his Christmas mug and talking to his favorite teacher the whole time. Also, they managed to pool together enough money to ransom Dr. Rogland if worst came to worst. Other than that, nobody trusted any of the other teachers, nobody had any more inspiration about who the culprit was, and everybody was worried about Dr. Rogland. People talked in hushed voices all day long.
Friday morning, Mr. Pfefferle’s first-period economics class was taking their optional final. Emily A. was going through all the quotes in her binder and writing them down on a sheet of notebook paper. She nudged Rosemary and pointed to one of the quotes:
"Get your cotton-pickin’ hands off my stuff!!"—Pastor Rayburn
"Remember that one time in chapel when Mr. Hannula told us not to use the plasticware in the fellowship hall?" she wrote, and handed the paper to Rosemary.
"Yeah," wrote Rosemary, as a look of comprehension dawned on her face. "Could it be… ?" She passed the note to Michael, who passed it to Bryce, who passed it to Rodi, who passed it to Peter, who had taken the makeup exam in lunch on Wednesday.
"Indeed," wrote Peter. "I concur. Dr. Rogland was using a plastic fork to eat his sardines while we took our test on Wednesday. Pastor Rayburn must have seen him take the fork, and decided to get his revenge!"
By this time, Mr. Pfefferle had given them all behavior marks for passing notes in class. He gave Rhodri one, too, just for good measure. He was sure Rhodri had glanced over at Josh.
It was 8:23. Emily had a plan. She quickly wrote another note: "Bonnie: We think Pastor Rayburn might be the culprit. If he is, he would be over at Cutter’s Point right now, waiting for the ransom money. Otherwise, he would probably be in his office. Can you ask Mr. P if you can be excused, then run up and check to see if he is in his office?" She thought for sure Mr. Pfefferle would let Bonnie out of class.
"M-hm," Bonnie smiled and raised her hand.
At 8:28 she was back. "He isn’t there, she wrote to Emily, who passed the note to Rosemary, who passed it to Michael, who passed it to Bryce, who passed it to Rodi, who passed it to Peter, who passed it to Ariel, who passed it back.
This time, Michael had an idea. "I know how we can find out for sure," he wrote. "I’ll have to face my arch-nemesis, but it’s worth it to save D-Rizzle!"
As soon as the 8:30 bell rang, they all rushed down the hall to Mrs. Rayburn’s office. Tyler, Rodi, and Michael forced the reluctant Gita to tell Mrs. Rayburn and Mrs. St. John the story.
"Oh, it couldn’t have been Mr. St. John," Mrs. St. John assured them. "He was at home on Wednesday during lunch time, trying to get the best price for his mind on eBay."
"Then that leaves us with only one suspect," said Michael. "Mrs. Rayburn, we all think it’s got to be your husband.
"What a ridiculous idea!" said Mrs. Rayburn. "Michael, I have a gun and I will shoot you! My husband has been in his office all morning long."
"More death threats," Michael muttered.
Christina jumped up and down. "But he wasn’t, Mrs. Rayburn! Bonnie checked and he wasn’t there! He LIED to you!"
"Oh, dear." Mrs. Rayburn sank down in her chair.
"It’s all right, Mrs. Rayburn," said Megan, giving her a hug.
"Would you mind giving us the keys to Pastor Rayburn’s office so we can search it for clues?" asked Rosemary.
"All right," Mrs. Rayburn handed Rosemary the keyring with her hand over her eyes.
"Um, Mrs. Rayburn, would you mind showing me which one it is? It has about a hundred keys on it," Rosemary said.
By the time Mrs. Rayburn had found the right one, it was 8:42.
"Listen everyone," said Jake. "We have eighteen minutes till the ransom money has to be at Cutter’s Point or Dr. Rogland’s toast. I’d say we send somebody over there with the money right now. If we don’t find anything in Pastor Rayburn’s study, we can call the people at Cutter’s and tell them to go ahead and put the money under the chessboard. That way at least we can save Dr. Rogland even if we don’t catch the criminal."
"Good idea, Jake!" said Sarah C. "I’ll go. Just call me and tell me what to do." She held up her red Chocolate phone. Tyler, Effie (who had the money) and Rachael followed her up the stairs.
The rest of them tiptoed upstairs to Pastor Rayburn’s office. It was 8:46.
"Hi, Mr. Simpson," whispered Lindsey. "Hi, Mr. Simpson," whispered Steph. "Hi, Mr. Simpson," whispered Ben, Cilla, and Luke. Mr. Simpson stared at the row of students filing through his office. But he didn’t say anything.
They began to search the room. "What if Dr. Rogland is under the desk?" asked Kim.
"Good one, Teri-Kelly-John-Marie-Dick-Kathy," said Michael. But Dr. Rogland wasn’t there.
Emma and Laura searched Pastor Rayburn’s desk for clues, but all they could find was a Bible open to Mark 3, and several sheets of notes covered in tiny handwriting.
Kate, Christina, Sarah and Calvin started searching along Pastor Rayburn’s bookshelves.
"What do you think you’ll find there, a secret panel?" whispered Clark.
"Sí," said Calvin. "Let’s look behind Calvin’s Institutes. Get it? Calvin’s Institutes? Ah, yes." He waved his finger at the book. Josh pulled it out and felt behind it.
"Hey, everybody, look!" he yelled.
"Shhhh," came from outside the office.
Everybody turned and stared as the bookshelves swung out to reveal a tiny, narrow space in the wall. There stood Dr. Rogland!
He looked very stiff, with his hands and feet tied, and a gag in his mouth.
While Peter, Rodi and Jake gently untied Dr. Rogland, Jessica called Sarah. It was 8:56. "Don’t put the money under the chessboard. We found Dr. Rogland in Pastor Rayburn’s bookcase!"
"Good!" said Sarah. "Pastor Rayburn is here! Apparently he thought nobody could possibly suspect him, so he’s sitting in plain sight, talking to Pastor DeMass. Tyler, Rachael, Effie and I are hiding outside the door so he doesn’t see us."
"Good. Stay right there. I’m calling the police right now. We’ll be right over."
By the time Jessica was off the phone, the guys had freed Dr. Rogland. "Thank you for rescuing me!" said Dr. Rogland. "Students can always be replaced. It’s so hard to find a good science teacher."
"How long have you been here, Dr. Rogland?" asked Faith.
"Well, I’m not sure. Time flies when you’re having fun, and fruit flies like a banana!" chuckled Dr. Rogland. "But it was long enough for me to get very hungry. I personally am very proud of my lipid collection, and I should very much like to go replenish it."
Just then, they heard sirens in the distance. "Why don’t we all head over to Cutter’s to get Dr. Rogland something to eat?" suggested Joel.
So they did. When they arrived, the police were just surrounding Pastor Rayburn. Dr. Rogland marched up to him. "We should all be willing to accept criticism," he said. "And have I got some for you!"
"I’m sorry, Dr. Rogland," said Pastor Rayburn. "I got a little carried away. You see, I got so sick of people stealing my plastic utensils that when I saw you steal that plastic fork last Wednesday at lunch, it was the last straw. I determined to get my revenge. I didn’t mean it personally, and I meant you no harm."
"But what about the $100?" asked Rachel. "What was that for?"
"Oh, that was just to buy new forks and spoons," admitted Pastor Rayburn.
"Well, in that case, I apologize for stealing your utensils," said Dr. Rogland. "And I’m sure the students agree." They all nodded their heads. "It won’t happen again." Dr. Rogland turned to the police. "I guess we won’t be needing your help after all today, gentlemen." He gave Pastor Rayburn a big hug.
Laura giggled.
Jessica giggled.
Soon everybody was laughing and cheering.
"Bravo!" said Emma.
"Good story!" said Michael, and clapped.
"Absolutely," said Peter.
They all bought Pastor Rayburn some iced tea and a newspaper to make up for all the plasticware they stole, and everybody lived happily ever after.
THE END.
posted by Aletheia @ 10:04 pm
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