“So, Sabrina,” the counselor said. “Do you want to tell us why Natalie is in the school infirmary with a black eye?”
“I’ll tell you why!” Mr. Grumpner growled, nearly jumping out of his seat. “This one is trouble.”
Mr. Sheepshank sat back in his chair and licked his lips as if he were preparing for a big meal. “Go on, Sabrina, what happened?”
“That ugly freak tripped me on purpose,” Sabrina said, wiping the sweat from her brow.
“That’s what she’s saying,” Grumpner interrupted. “I saw the whole thing.”
“If you’d seen the whole thing, then we wouldn’t be sitting here!” Sabrina snapped, surprised by how quickly her anger had boiled over. Her head was starting to pound again. Maybe she was getting sick.
“Listen to that attitude,” her teacher bellowed. “I don’t know how school works in the big city, but in my classroom you will respect me or else!”
“Yeah, I’ve seen what ‘or else’ means in your classroom,” the girl said. “I’ve seen how you teach children to respect you. You insult them, make fun of them, and drag them around. I dare you to try it on me! I just dare you!”
Mr. Grumpner backed away as if he had just stumbled upon a hornet’s nest. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” he whined to the counselor.
“I believe that letting your feelings out is healthy,” Mr. Sheepshank said. “Sabrina has a right to defend herself.”
“Save your new-age psychobabble,” the teacher grumbled. “What are you going to do to punish her?”
“Punish me?” Sabrina cried. “I didn’t start the fight!”
“Mr. Grumpner, I think we need a breather,” the counselor said as he rose from his chair. He crossed the room, took the grouchy teacher by the arm, and led him to the door. “If you spot any more slug-fests, please be sure to bring them to my attention immediately.”
“You didn’t tell me what you’re going to do with her,” Grumpner argued, but Mr. Sheepshank just pushed him out of the room and closed the door in his face. “Discipline is the backbone of education!” the teacher shouted through the door. “We’ll see what Principal Hamelin thinks about this!”
The guidance counselor ignored the teacher’s threat and returned to his chair with a broad smile. “Interesting first day you are having,” he said.
“I didn’t start that fight but I’m not going to let someone pick on me, either,” Sabrina said.
“I’m not asking you to,” Sheepshank replied. “I think Natalie got what she had coming to her. She’s been pushing kids around since kindergarten. I bet it felt pretty good to knock her down.”
Sabrina was stunned. Adults always said you should try to talk out your problems first. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me that fighting isn’t the answer?” she asked.
“Let’s just pretend I did,” Mr. Sheepshank continued with a wink. “Sabrina, I know being in the sixth grade isn’t easy. There are lots of things that aren’t fair, like a bully picking on you. It’s a natural human emotion to get angry. So what are you supposed to do? Bottle it up? Well, we all know what happens when you shake up a bottle of soda. It explodes all over the place when you open it. I think feelings are the same way. You’ve got to let them out when you’re having them or you’re just going to explode later on.”
New-age psychobabble or not, Sabrina liked what Mr. Sheepshank was saying. She’d hadn’t had an adult actually listen to her so well in a long time. In fact, he seemed almost eager to hear her thoughts.
“I think we’ll forget all about this,” the counselor continued. “You’ve been sitting here for several hours and have had plenty of time to think about what happened.”
Sabrina got up from her seat, then paused and asked, “Mr. Sheepshank, does it get any better?”
He laughed. “I wish I could say it does, but don’t worry, someday this place will be nothing but an ancient memory.”
Sabrina looked up at the clock. School had been over for five minutes. Daphne would be waiting.
“I have to go meet my sister.”
“Of course,” Mr. Sheepshank said. “But before you go, I just want to remind you that my door is always open. I’m a pretty good listener.”
Sabrina nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said.
“I’m on the edge of my seat,” the guidance counselor replied.
The girl nodded and stepped into the hallway. Natalie, the bully, was waiting by some lockers. Her left eye had a black-and-purple bruise around it. When she spotted Sabrina, she turned and punched a locker door. The impact was so great it dented the door badly. Happy with her handiwork, the big goon smiled, pointed at Sabrina, and shuffled down the hallway.
Great, I’ve been here less than eight hours and I already have a mortal enemy, Sabrina thought. I wonder what Tuesday will be like?
“Don’t worry, Sabrina. Tomorrow’s a new day,” a voice behind her said. Sabrina spun around and found the pretty blond girl from her homeroom and gym class.
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
The girl laughed. “I’m Bella,” she said. “And don’t worry, not everyone’s like Natalie.”
Just then, Daphne rushed down the hallway to meet them. She had her coat and mittens on, and a couple of books under her arm.
“I’ve had the greatest day of my entire life!” she screamed as she hugged Sabrina tightly. “We spent the first part of the morning making papier-mâché hats, and then when the hats were dry we put them on and learned about what kind of people might have worn them. I had George Washington’s hat.”
The little girl paused to catch her breath.
“Daphne, this is Bella,” Sabrina said, introducing the two. “She’s in my homeroom.”
“You made a friend?” Daphne said, giving her sister another hug. “Oh, I’m so proud of you!”
“Cute kid,” Bella said, giggling. “I gotta get going. See you tomorrow.”
Sabrina nodded and watched the girl disappear down the hallway. Maybe there was a chance of having a normal friend, after all.
“Did you know that George Washington didn’t really have wooden teeth? That’s a myth. Ms. White said his teeth were made from ivory and bone, ’cause …” Daphne paused and looked around. Then she cupped her hand around her sister’s ear and finished her sentence. “… she actually knew him. But she didn’t tell the class that, she just told me.”
Then Daphne pulled away and returned to her normal, excited tone. “Then we learned all about chimpanzees. Did you know that chimpanzees aren’t actually monkeys? I didn’t know that. Chimpanzees are so punk rock.”
“Punk rock?”
“You know, cool.”
“Where did you hear that?” Sabrina laughed.
“Julie Melphy. She’s in my class. She’s very punk rock,” her sister replied.
“That’s stupid.”
“You’re stupid,” Daphne shot back. “And very un-punk rock! How was your day?”
“Horrible,” Sabrina grumbled. “Come on, I have to go get my coat from my locker. It’s upstairs.”
The girls climbed the steps to the second floor just as Toby came running down them. He nearly knocked them over.
“Out of the way, lightning-bolt head,” he shouted then laughed his annoying little laugh. He ran past and disappeared down the hall.
That kid is so un-punk rock, Sabrina thought.
The sisters reached Sabrina’s locker and she went to work on the combination. If there had been anything good about the day it was that at least she had been assigned a locker near her homeroom. She wouldn’t have to trudge through the halls in the morning with all her books.
“What kind of class are you in?” Daphne asked as she peered through the window into Grumpner’s room.
“What are you talking about?” Sabrina said as she put on her coat and closed her locker.
“Look,” her sister said, pointing into Sabrina’s homeroom.
Sabrina gazed through the w
indow. The room looked as if a tornado had gone through it. Desks and chairs had been tossed around and there was an odd, white substance covering everything. She opened the door and the girls stepped inside. The white substance hung from the ceiling in strands like silky ribbons. It fluttered in the icy wind that blew in from a broken window. In the center of the room, a large sack of the junk was suspended from the ceiling, slowly swaying in the breeze.
“Don’t touch anything,” Sabrina said, tugging at a strand that had attached itself to her coat.
“What’s that thing hanging from the ceiling?” Daphne asked as her sister crossed the room to look. Sabrina grabbed a nearby chair, pulled it close to the sack, and climbed onto the seat.
“Something’s inside it,” she said as she yanked at the layers of sticky stuff that formed the sack. Soon, something began to reveal itself from deep inside—something with a face. “It’s Mr. Grumpner,” she whispered. The old man was as purple as an eggplant and his once puffy face was gaunt and drained. “He’s dead.”
“Awww, man! That’s so gross!” Daphne cried unhappily.
“What could have done this?” Sabrina wondered.
“Probably whoever left that,” the little girl said, pointing at the far end of the classroom.
Sabrina turned to see what her sister was referring to. On the chalkboard was another horrible but familiar sight. Someone had dipped his or her hand into a can of paint and pressed it on the wall. The handprint was bright red.
he school doors flew open and a dark-haired man in a purple suit strutted in with his head in the air. He swaggered down the shiny hallway with a dwarf and an obese police officer bringing up the rear. When Sabrina spotted the group, she groaned. Mayor Charming was not one of her favorite people.
To anyone else, Mayor Charming might have seemed like a run-of-the-mill politician, but Sabrina knew better. Mayor Charming was really Prince Charming, the dashing romantic hero of a dozen fairy tales. But, as Sabrina knew firsthand, Charming was only his name. The mayor could be an obnoxious, rude know-it-all, and he had a particular disdain for Sabrina’s family. In a nutshell, he hated the Grimms.
Racing to keep up was Mr. Seven, the mayor’s diminutive sidekick. Seven was actually one of the original seven dwarfs and acted as Charming’s driver, assistant, and whipping boy. Behind him was Sheriff Hamstead, who did his best to keep up with the others while trying to hoist his pants up at the same time.
“So, let’s go through this one more time,” the mayor said to his followers with an air of condescension. “Who’s doing all the talking?”
“You are,” Hamstead and Mr. Seven said in unison.
“And why is that?”
“Because we are numbskulls.”
“See how easy that was?”
“But what if I see something suspicious? I am the sheriff, after all,” Hamstead argued.
Charming came to a halt and spun around on his heels. “Are you going to make me get out the idiot hat? ’Cause it sounds like someone wants to wear the idiot hat!”
“I don’t,” Mr. Seven said.
The sheriff frowned and shook his head.
“Good,” Mayor Charming snapped. He took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling as if someone were watching from above. “OK, let’s relax. Let out all the anger and frustration. You are a great mayor. Smile.”
Suddenly, a smile sprang to Charming’s face and he started down the hallway again. The mayor was a master at the phony, toothy grin, but it slid off his face when he spotted Sabrina and Daphne.
“What are they doing here?” he moaned.
“They found the body,” the sheriff explained.
“The sisters Grimm found the body and no one told me?” Charming said.
“You told us not to talk,” Mr. Seven said defensively.
The mayor bit down on his lower lip and mumbled a variety of curse words Sabrina had never heard before. He reached into his pocket, took out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to Mr. Seven, who looked down at it and frowned. The dwarf unfolded it, revealing a pointy paper hat, and put it on his head. Someone had written IDIOT in big black letters on the front of it. Mr. Seven lowered his eyes in humiliation.
“Howdy, Mayor,” Daphne said happily. Even though Charming considered the Grimms his eternal enemies, Daphne had a soft spot for him. The mayor had helped the family stop Jack the Giant Killer, but most important, he had been kind to Elvis when the big dog was injured. Since then, the little girl had been convinced that deep down Mayor Charming was one of the good guys.
“Sheriff, let’s make a new law. Children who cannot stay out of the way go to jail,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’re so funny,” Daphne said, smiling into the mayor’s face. The little girl grabbed Charming’s necktie, yanked him down to her level, and gave him a smooch on the nose. The anger melted from the man’s face only to be replaced by confusion. He pulled away from the girl as if he had accidentally touched a hot stove.
Principal Hamelin rushed down the hall to join them. “Mayor Charming, Sheriff Hamstead, this is such a terrible tragedy. I just want you two to know that the faculty will cooperate in every way we can. I just feel horrible about this.”
Charming smiled and shook the principal’s hand, vigorously. “I appreciate that, Piper. We’ll get to the bottom of this and be out of your hair as soon as possible,” he said. “I assume you don’t have any more of these running around the building?” He waved his hand at the girls as if he were trying to shoo away a couple of annoying houseflies.
“You mean children?” the principal said. “Oh, no. It happened at the end of the day and most of them were already on their way home.”
“Sheriff, let’s take a look,” Charming said, gesturing to the door of Mr. Grumpner’s classroom.
The two men tried to enter the room at the same time and got jammed in the doorway together. They squirmed and shoved but were trapped until Mr. Seven came up from behind and pushed them into the room.
“I thought we weren’t going to do that anymore,” Mr. Charming said, maintaining his phony smile in front of everyone. Hamstead muttered an apology and immediately took a camera from his pocket. He snapped pictures of the unusual crime scene and Mr. Grumpner’s disturbing corpse.
“He was found about ten minutes after the last bell,” Principal Hamelin offered.
“I see,” said Charming as he yanked some of the sticky stuff off a desk.
Sheriff Hamstead stepped close to the body to take more photos. He pulled aside a strand of the sticky substance to get a better look at Mr. Grumpner’s face. “Looks like the blood has been drained right out of him.”
“Maybe it was a vampire!” Daphne cried.
“There’s no such thing as vampires,” Charming muttered.
I used to think there was no such thing as you, Sabrina thought.
“Sheriff, do you have any idea what happened to him?” the principal asked.
“Well,” Hamstead said as he put his camera away, “if I had to hazard a guess I’d say …”
“Spiders,” Charming interrupted. “A whole bunch of spiders murdered him. There are so many cobwebs here I’d say it took hundreds of spiders to make them. Looks like they came in through the window.”
“It’s too cold for spiders,” the sheriff argued, but when the mayor flashed him an angry look, the portly policeman zipped his lips.
“And what would the spiders’ motivation be?” Sabrina asked.
“How should I know?” Charming said. “Maybe Mr. Grumpner stepped on one and its family wanted revenge.”
“Spider revenge?” Sabrina asked.
“I don’t hear anyone else with a better theory,” Charming snapped.
Suddenly the door opened and Granny Relda and Mr. Canis entered the room.
“Oh, I have a theory,” Granny Relda said, scanning the room. “It was a monster.”
Daphne ran to the old woman and wrapped her arms around her.
“We found
something gross,” the little girl cried, burying her face into the old woman’s bright green dress. Granny bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
“A monster!” Charming growled. “You’ve had some insane theories in the past, Relda, but monsters?”
“You’re right, Mayor,” the old woman said sarcastically. “Ferryport Landing has fairies, witches, robots, and men made out of straw, but monsters? Now I’ve really lost my marbles!”
Charming scowled. “Well, have your look around. I know I can’t stop you.”
“Thank you, Mayor,” Granny Relda said. She crossed the room to Sabrina and took her by the hand. “Are you OK, liebling?”
Sabrina nodded.
Granny patted her on the head and walked over to the broken window. Among the glass was something long and black. The old woman gingerly moved the glass aside with her fingers and plucked the object off the ground. It was a feather.
“Gentlemen, I believe I have found a clue,” she said.
Sheriff Hamstead took the feather and eyed it closely. “Looks like crow to me,” he said. “There’s a couple more there under the windowsill.”
Mr. Canis took a deep sniff of the air. “It is crow.”
“They probably blew in with the wind,” Charming said, snatching the feather from the sheriff’s pudgy hands. He tossed it to the floor as if it were meaningless.
“We found a clue, too!” Daphne said proudly. She pointed at the red hand painted on the chalkboard.
Hamstead, Charming, Mr. Seven, and Principal Hamelin peered at the red hand closely. Each of them had a worried look on his face.
“It’s just like the one the police found in my parents’ abandoned car,” Sabrina said. “Or maybe that blew in with the wind, too.”
Charming scowled and rolled his eyes at her. “Probably just a prank.”
“A prank?” Sabrina and Daphne cried.
“Mayor Charming, that’s the sign of the Scarlet Hand,” said Granny Relda.
“There’s no such thing as the Scarlet Hand,” he said. “Hamstead has done a thorough investigation and we’ve concluded that Jack invented the whole thing.”