Brass Monkeys (36 page)

Haggerty, who was unhitching the goats, snapped around as if he had been stung. Immediately it became clear what Jack meant. Haggerty had constructed his house out of books that were all about
music
.

“I hope you’re not making fun of my abode,” said Haggerty in a level voice.

“Not at all,” said Jack, without his usual smart-guy edge. “I happen to like those composers and Delius is my favorite.” He was staring at the books in a strangely wistful way.

Haggerty released the last of the goats and came over to us, eyeing Jack from under his beetle brows. “Really? How would you know anything about Delius?”

It was a direct challenge, and I felt for sure Jack would snap back sarcastically.

“I nearly went into music when I was in college,” he said quietly. “Actually, it was my first love, but for some reason I wandered into literature. That turned out okay, but it never had quite the same … spirit.”

The rest of us stared at him. I had never heard him talk like this before. Teddy had signed everything as usual, and I could tell by Lilah’s expression that she too was startled. It had to be the Grotto water, I thought.

Haggerty snorted with disdain. “Then you’re nothing more than an amateur.”

Jack turned and looked at Haggerty, and there was blue ice in his stare. “I wouldn’t call me an amateur,” he said.

Haggerty’s lips curled and he snapped out, “‘Over the Hills and Far Away.’“

“‘Sleigh Ride,’” replied Jack. He didn’t even blink.

“‘Marche Caprice!’” cried Haggerty.

“‘Dance Rhapsody Number 2,’ and the ‘Irmelin Prelude,’” said Jack, calm and cool as anything.

Haggerty’s frown weakened. “Yes, very nice songs I’m sure, but his best is—”

“‘Songs of Sunset,’” Jack said, staring hard at Haggerty. “Without a doubt.”

“And I’d say ‘Brigg Fair,’” countered Haggerty, his brows going up fiercely.

Jack nodded amiably. “That’s a matter of taste. My feeling is, you have to be careful when you start claiming a certain piece of Delius’ is his best. He’s so good, you’re constantly changing your mind.”

For a moment I wasn’t sure what Haggerty was going to do or say. His lips twisted every which way, but finally he blurted out, “By gadfreys, you’re right! You snappy little man!” And for the first time since we met him, he smiled. Or at least it was his version of a smile. You could tell this was a guy who had lived a long time by himself. “You know,” he went on, “it just dawned on me that I haven’t been the best host. Let’s properly introduce ourselves.”

As Haggerty went around the group shaking hands, I could see the edginess leaving. He seemed to be coming back from some distant place. When he came to me, he actually patted me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry for that comment about trumpets,” he said. “I like trumpets, truly. And your name is?”

I told him.

A shadow of worry passed over his eyes. “I’m guessing by your firm expression you’ve come here for a very serious reason, have you not, Mr. Bumpus?”

“I have.” I held up the book with the red cover. “I’ve come all the way from Grindsville, Michigan, to give McGinty his book.”

Haggerty’s eyes widened in amazement and his old lips trembled.

“So, our friend Webster escaped after all and he sent you back, did he?”

I nodded. “He sent me back to find McGinty so he can save my friends and lead us all out of this place. And I’ve got Webster’s map to help us.”

Haggerty bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, all according to plan. And you! What a splendid lad, risking everything to bring the book to McGinty. What adventures you must have had! It sounds like the makings of some good old-fashioned storytelling. Perhaps later we can sit down—”

“Look,” Jack cut in, “we don’t have time for a lot of old-fashioned anything. What Bumpus is trying to say is this: the Big Lady is going to graduate his friends tomorrow, and we need McGinty and his weapon and I mean right now.”

I glanced at Jack in surprise. For the first time he actually sounded as if he meant to help us.

“Yes, of course you need him,” said Haggerty. He looked confused. “You obviously do need McGinty and his, ahem … weapon.”

“So where is he?” I blurted out. “Please, just take us to him.”

Haggerty nodded. “I will.” But strangely, he leaned over and kissed the top of the head of one his goats. “Old Tommy boy,” he muttered. “Good old lad.” Haggerty turned and started around the house. “Better come with me,” he said.

Jack and I exchanged a puzzled look, but we all fell in behind him.

We came around the back of the house, and for a moment I didn’t see it. Harriet must have, because she gasped and put her hand to her lips. Lilah suddenly put her arm around me.

Finally my eyes focused and I saw it too.

A fresh grave had been dug in the books, and a wooden marker had been placed at the head of it.

“He died just two days ago,” said Haggerty. He glanced around vaguely as if his own words mystified him.

I was too stunned for words. I saw Jack brush his hand across his forehead as if clearing away cobwebs. There was a silence that seemed to go on for years.

“What happened?” Harriet finally said in a small voice. “How did he die?”

“You ask how?” Haggerty gestured off helplessly. “Oh my goodness, I suppose it was his heart. I went in to wake him that morning and he was … gone. I think he simply wore himself out from all the chasing around down here. And, of course, he was working day and night on his project and that didn’t help.”

Harriet and Ray turned to me, waiting for me to say something, but words had deserted me. I felt like stone.

“The project? You mean his secret weapon, right?” said Ray. He seemed to be the only one who could still focus.

“Yes,” replied Haggerty. “He brought it here for me to work on and we spent hours on it. It’s done now, but quite useless I feel.”

“Useless?” Jack’s voice sounded strangled.

“How can that be?” added Lilah, who was getting all this from Teddy.

“For heaven’s sakes, it must have some value,” insisted Teddy.

Haggerty sighed. “You don’t understand, I’m afraid. But in a moment we’ll go inside. I’ll show you the ah … weapon, and then I think you’ll know what I mean.”

Ray, who was standing closest to the grave, kept shaking his head in a strange way. “I guess I’m not very bright,” he began. “Well, I mean, I know I’m not sometimes, but there’s something kind of strange here.”

“What’s that, my boy?” asked Haggerty.

“The name on the grave,” said Ray. “How come it doesn’t say his name? I mean, his real name?”

I peered closer at the wooden marker. “Yeah, you’re right, Raymondo.” I turned to Haggerty. “It says John Ashford.”

“It does for a fact,” cried Teddy. “That’s odd.”

“But not odd at all,” said Haggerty. “That’s his real name.” He stared at us. “Oh, my gadfreys, wait. I can see you haven’t been told.”

“Told what?” asked Lilah.

“McGinty’s real name,” replied Haggerty. “It’s always been John Ashford.”

“And McGinty is some kind of honorary name, isn’t it?” said Harriet.

“There you go! My goodness, young lady, you’re a bright one! McGinty is simply a title, a name that Adjana gives to a teacher who is a great leader, somebody who’s going to shake up the world and make things better for schools across the country. Adjana gave the title to John several years ago and, of course, he’s more than lived up to it.”

I shook my head bleakly. “So what. He’s gone. Dead. Now there’s no one who can get my friends out of Ming’s school. There’s no one who can read the map in the book, and that means we’ve come all this way for nothing.” My voice had a weary, lifeless sound to it.

“Less than nothing,” snapped Jack. Some of his old bitterness rang out again.

Lilah said, “Look, maybe it’s not as bad as we think. Let’s be positive, for heaven’s sakes.”

“Now there’s the right attitude!” cried Haggerty. “Of course things look a bit dim and discouraging at the moment.” He cleared his throat.

“Very discouraging, actually, but there’s always a light on in some room, however hard it is to find that room. Perhaps we’ll all discover it together!”

Jack made a disgusted raspberry sound. “So where’s the big-deal weapon? That’s got to be something of value.”

“Yes, well, perhaps the weapon isn’t the place to turn for value,” said Haggerty. “But we have to face that hard fact sooner or later. So, on to the weapon.”

We trudged wearily around to the front entrance. Well, I should say most of us trudged wearily. Lilah and Harriet seemed more upbeat for some reason.

Just before we got to the front door, Harriet leaned over and whispered, “The mystery goes on, doesn’t it? I think fate is stepping in again.”

“I don’t see it,” I replied gloomily.

Haggerty opened the front door and led us inside. Normally I would have been interested in the interior of this ingenious little house. The walls were decorated with pictures taken from magazines. In the corner a small stone fireplace blazed cheerfully. An upright piano sat in the center of the room with instruments strewn around it. Even those last details didn’t stir my emotions. I was too devastated by the news of McGinty’s death and what it meant for all of us.

I slumped down in a chair made entirely of church hymnals.

“So where’s the weapon?” asked Jack. There was an icy sharpness in his voice.

Haggerty nodded sadly. He walked to the piano, picked up a folder of paper, and handed it to Jack. “This is it, I’m afraid.”

Jack stared at him with a dumbfounded look. “What, this bunch of paper?”

Haggerty sighed and looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid so.”

The others crowded around Jack. He shuffled through the paper. “I don’t get it. This is crazy. This is music of some kind.”

“Yes, it’s the music that John thought might destroy Mingley’s empire,” said Haggerty. “He wrote part of it in the Shimmering Pines’ ruins and part of it in the Grotto, inspired by Adjana and her work there. It’s called—”

“‘The Young Shall Ride Unicorns,’” I said suddenly. I sat up, feeling a tiny ping of interest.

Haggerty glanced at me with a surprised look. “You know it? It’s a wonderful piece that has all the magic of Adjana and the Grotto, and he took it and added a great deal more. And now, the piece has this mysterious Spanish flavor.”

I got up quickly. “Spanish? Really?”

Harriet’s eyes glowed. “Because they hate Spanish music, don’t they?”

“Exactly, my dear,” replied Haggerty, his eyes widening in surprise. “Very clever of you to know that. They’re totally frightened by it.”

Harriet turned to me. “Remember the trouble you got into when you played ‘Midnight Scholars’ and made it sound like a Spanish bullfight?”

“Yeah, big-time trouble,” I said.

Jack was staring grimly at us. “Somebody want to explain to me how you think Spanish music could hurt the Stormies? This is a new one to me.”

“I know how silly it sounds,” Haggerty said quickly.

“Silly?” put in Jack, dryly. “That’s an understatement.”

“Improbable, ridiculous, I know,” added Haggerty. “And I was dubious myself. But apparently McGinty, who once taught with Mingley, saw her fall to the floor in some kind of screaming fit when she heard just a few notes of a flamenco guitar.”

Lilah, who had been getting all this from Teddy’s frantic signing, cried out excitedly, “I know why!” She signed the rest to Jack.

He frowned as he tried to follow her flashing hands. “You think it’s the atmosphere of … Wait! Slow down. You’re saying they can’t stand the passionate spiritual power of Spanish music?”

Something about Lilah’s excitement seemed to temper Jack’s anger and he laughed. “No, c’mon, that’s too crazy for me.”

“It’s not crazy,” I said. “Lilah is right on the money. Passionate and spiritual. That’s it. That’s exactly what Ming and her friends hate.”

“It’s true,” added Harriet. “They hate anything that has light and hope.”

“Lilah, you’ve been right about so many things,” I said, and I watched her dark, intelligent eyes while Teddy signed it. “I mean, you’ve understood why Ming and her Stormies play ‘Midnight Scholars’ all along, haven’t you?”

“I know it destroys our fire,” she said. Then she signed something more to Jack and I could see his whole attitude change. There was no way he was going to laugh at her.

“Lilah says it darkens and kills our spirit,” he said.

“That was McGinty’s belief right from the beginning!” cried Haggerty. “He thought the only way to destroy Mingley’s power was to create music more powerful than that awful stuff they play every day.”

“But even if he was right about this,” said Jack, “how on earth could you use music to defeat Ming? I mean, come on people, think about it.”

“Well, exactly, there’s the practical aspect.” Haggerty frowned and scratched his chin. “And this is where we got stuck. McGinty—John, I mean wanted to make a tape of the music and try to sneak it inside Ming’s school and play it on her intercom.”

Jack waved this off impatiently. “Forget it. Getting in and out of that joint is dangerous enough without hunting around for the main office and the intercom.”

“Then we had the idea we might be able to pirate one of her music boxes,” Haggerty went on. “The kind Devos liked to drop, and put our music inside that.”

“That wouldn’t work either,” said Ray. “I’ve fussed with the insides of those boxes, trying to get them to play ‘These Boots Are Made for Walking,’ but they’re rigged to play the same old stupid song.”

That was when I got my bright idea. I guess you could say that out of all the wild things I had proposed since arriving in the underworld, this was the wildest. And just about the dumbest.

“Why don’t we just go down to her school and play the music?” I said.

For a moment they just stared at me.

“Oh, my Aunt Petunia,” murmured Ray.

Lilah got what I said from Teddy and she nodded. “What have we got to lose?”

Harriet’s eyes flashed. “I agree. We can’t live up here forever. It’s do or die.”

Haggerty clapped his hands with a vigorous pop. “By gadfreys, I have the score ready to go,” he said. “That’s why John came up here to begin with, so I could arrange the piece. And of course I’ve got all the instruments.”