The Blue Wig (revised)

I couldn`t get to sleep until late last night. For one thing Katy was practicing her flute in her bedroom below me. For another there was a branch knocking against my window. At least, I hope it was a branch. Finally around two in the morning I jumped out of bed and went over to the window.

It must have rained earlier for the street below was glistening wet under the streetlights. I pushed the window up and pressed my nose against the screen. The smell of the rain-washed night air was heavenly.

The street was quiet- a school night, you know, a Thursday.

I thought about the play our class would be putting on the next night. A Stitch in Time. It`s supposed to be a comedy but I don`t find it very funny. I play the Mayor of the village, a portly old gentleman with a white goatee. I wear a pillow stuffed up under my vest to give the right effect. Actually, my friend Blimp would be better suited to the part- physically at least. He`s quite a character.

The thing about Blimp is, he`s always getting into trouble. I don`t know why. He has a sort of knack for it, I guess.

Our teacher Mr Cram can`t stand him and never misses an opportunity to haul him up in front of the class and give him hell for some assignment he hasn`t finished or some prank he`s supposed to have pulled.

There have been quite a few pranks pulled lately at school. Nothing really malicious but, just odd you know?


Yesterday a chair leg gave way beneath Mrs Plumptree and she fell flat on her beam end. Her Grade Twos went wild laughing and Mr Thackerby had to go down the hall and lay the law down to them.
It was queer, you know. Her chair leg had been sawed nearly all the way through so it was obviously deliberate. She`s kind of crabby, Mrs Plumptree, so I guess there was provocation from somebody`s point of view. She wasn`t seriously hurt.


But Mr Cram was very upset about it and gave us quite a lecture. Of course, he brought it round to Blimp in the end.

"What have you got to say for yourself, Hanlon?" he barked, wagging a finger at him."I feel certain you were in some way responsible."

Blimp turned red and looked indignant but he didn`t answer back. He knows better than to do that in Cram`s class.

Today we have general assembly. We do every Friday at nine-thirty in the morning. Mr Thackerby, the Principal will probably have something to say about the chair leg episode. I have to break off now and go down to breakfast but I`ll tell you later what happened.
.............
It`s recess and I`m writing this out at Big Rock while I wait for Blimp and Katy to show up. She`s down by the monkey bars talking to Fatty Falkingham; I can see her red beret bobbing about in the crowd.

The sun is beaming down through a light blue sky. I just heard the squeak of a gopher.

Cripes, you wouldn`t believe what happened at assembly.

Cram was at the podium reading out a list of sporting events when all of a sudden a big old watermelon came whizzing down splat beside him. It couldn`t have missed his head by more than an inch!

A moment or two later Blimp came into the gym and took his seat beside me. I don`t know where he had been, perhaps the washroom. Meanwhile everybody in gym was laughing at Cram and he was furious! You should have seen how red he got in the face!

Mr Thackerby shot to his feet and started shouting for everyone to settle down and behave themselves or we`d all get the strap.

"That watermelon stunt is just the sort of prank I have been talking about." he said when everybody finally piped down. "This melon could have seriously injured Mr Cram if it had hit him and even put him in hospital. If Mr Rumson is in the auditorium I wonder if he wouldn`t mind cleaning up this mess as soon as possible."

I haven`t told you about Ben Rumson yet. He`s our school janitor. He`s a short, thick-set blustery old fellow with a close cropped beard and grizzled hair. He speaks with an English accent and I`m afraid he`s a bit of a boozer. He always carries a flat green bottle in the back pocket of his baggy old britches and if you pass him on the stairway leading to the basement you might catch him pulling the cork and taking a swig. But he keeps the school spotless .

Mr Thackerby can`t stand him and there`s a rumour going round that he and Mrs Plumptree and some of the more strait-laced teachers are trying to get him fired.

The kids all like him except for the snobs from North Hill. He lives in a suite just off the furnace room in the basement and sometimes when Katy is down there cleaning the brushes for her teacher Miss Carlton she says she can hear old Ben plunking away on his five-stringed banjo. Katy says he`s pretty good too.

He`s always got a book or two sticking out of his vest pockets and when he`s off duty you might spy him browsing in the library or reading on the green wooden bench beneath the lilacs round the side of the school. He`s a mystery buff like I am and he`s been to London and actually walked down Baker Street! Can you believe it? He helps the Grade ones with their reading and tells them stories in his spare time at recess. He has no children of his own. His wife died years ago and I`ll bet he misses her a lot. Sometimes there`s a far away look in his eyes and I don`t blame the brand of tobacco he smokes in his old briar pipe..

Did you ever see Shakespeare`s Twelfth NIght? Mr Rumson is very like Sir Toby Belch, only a bit sadder at times.

But back to the assembly.

Mr Thackerby tried that old wheeze about turning out the lights and "If the perpetrator of the melon stunt will just leave quietly and make his way quietly by cover of darkness to the principal`s office his or her punishment will be lessened somewhat and noone else need know his or her identity."

Yes, they actually turned out the lights! But it backfired on them when the Phantom Pantripper beside me cut an enormous fart in the darkness and started everybody laughing again. I could hear Mr Thackerby shouting above the melee`"If that piece of rudeness is repeated every damn one of you is getting the strap!"

Oh please. Can`t you just see us all lined up and waiting?

When the lights blinked on again there was Rumson weaving back and forth with his broom among the melon rinds mumbling to himself. He had a kind of crafty glint in his eye and for a moment I wondered if perhaps he knew more about that melon than the rest of us. He and Cram are not the best of friends and that`s putting it mildly.

I noticed Cram eyeing him warily but he also seemed to be scanning the assembly as if he were looking for someone. He found who he was looking for in the seat beside mine.

Blimp was sitting there radiating innocence, gazing blithely up at the ceiling as though he had never had a wayward thought.

"Hanlon, you`re wearing a smirk a mile wide." I said, turning in my seat. What have you been up to?"

"How can you ask me that Mackleby?" he said, looking wounded. "You can hardly expect me to look sorry for what just happened, especially after the way that fathead Cram has been riding my tail lately. I only wish the melon had beaned him. Waste of a good melon though,now I think of it. Should have used a sack of wet horse manure."

I began to wonder.

After recess, on the stroke of eleven, the phantom prankster struck again. As we heard later, Mr Thackerby was seated at his desk leafing through a stack of estimates for cleaning firms.

It was a fine sunny morning and he had both windows open to let in the summery smell of the lilacs blooming on the lawn below.

Suddenly, he had the uncanny feeling that he was being watched. He glanced sharply up at the window and caught a glimpse of a blue tangled wig just disappearing below the window sill.

The next instant a gloved hand flung a smoking can into the room and a cloud of choking yellow gas came billowing forth to clutch him by the throat. The stench of rotten eggs was so overpowering that we could smell it down the hall.

Mr Thackerby flung himself backwards in his chair and felt one of the legs give way beneath him with a splintering crack. The last sound he heard before his head hit the floor was a horrified shriek from his secretary Miss Peach who had run in through the doorway.

Miss Peach is a flustered little person with spasmodic hair, a big chin and a bee bum. She has a twin sister who works for the Mayor. Her dithering must drive Mr Thackerby round the bend because we can often hear him shouting at her down the hall when she forgets and leaves the office door ajar. I feel sorry for her cuz she tries so hard to please him and never even comes close.

Right in the middle of our science class just before noon the intercom above the blackboard squawked and Mr Thackerby`s voice came blaring out at us.

"Now hear this! Squawwwwwwwwk-Down Peach, turn it down I say! No No No, Peach, stand out of the way, I can manage very well on my own. Back, Peach, Back! Now listen up out there and this applies to all students and staff. I have just recovered from an atrocious assault on my person. My office has been rendered uninhabitable by a foul stink bomb. The fiend responsible for this outrage will be sought out and punished to the very fullest extent of my power! Whoever it was was wearing some sort of blue tangled wig affair on his head. Now I am warning you, whoever you are, this sort of behaviour will no longer be tolerated. And if Ben Rumson is in the building will he kindly haul his kiester up here on the double quick! And bring your mop and pail!"

I guess Mr Thackerby had had better days. I passed him in the hall on my way outside at noon hour and I noticed that the jaunty grey toupee` he sports had been knocked slightly askew by his fall. I didn`t say anything. I was mulling over the fact that by a curious twist of fate, Blimp had been out of the classroom when Thackerby had been assaulted. An urgent call of nature he had claimed but I wondered all the same...

Blimp, Katy and I discussed the events of the morning on our way down Dufferin Street. I could tell by the way she was hopping about that Katy had some special news all her own to contribute.

"Miss Carlton told us somebody stole a blue fright wig from the Drama Room." she said, looking up at us importantly from beneath her dark bangs."And that`s not all! She says old Plumptree found a bit of blue yarn tied round her busted chairleg. And the Principal found one too!"

Blimp glanced at me slyly and gave me a nudge."The plot thickens, hey Mackleby?"

"Yeah, right." I said doubtfully and wondered all the more...

Again, as we learned later, the next little event was Mr Thackerby finding a small square of green bristol board propped against the telephone on his desk. Printed at the centre of the card in queer straggling black letters was the following cryptic message:
YOUR BLACK TREACHERY IS KNOWN TO ME AND YE SHALL PAY FOR IT!

Beyond grilling Miss Peach about this note he apparently laughed it off and did not let it interfere with the speech he was preparing for the evening`s entertainment. You will remember the play our class is putting on.

Our preparations included a dress rehearsal at three p.m. in the gym. The stage is all set and ready to go. It looks like a village square with old fashioned shops all around. There is a large four-sided clock tower as well as one or two antiquated lamp posts standing along the curb.

Rehearsal went well only I missed my cue because I was talking to Blimp backstage. Mr Cram was not amused. I think Blimp and I are his two pet villains and I mean in real life not in the play. He usually just glares at us and turns red from the neck up. He`s such a grump!

A funny thing happened towards the end of the period. Cram was searching his pockets for a pen or something when his fingers came upon a little square of red bristol board. He pulled this out in front of us, held it up to his eyes, read it(apparently) and threw it down in disgust.

Nimble fingers Hanlon retrieved it a few minutes later and showed it to me. It had a skull and crossbones drawn on it and the following words were printed below in queer straggling black letters:
TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT, YOU FATHEAD!

"Terse and to the point." said Blimp with satisfaction and now I was really starting to wonder if my stocky chum was behind all of this.

Now I must leave off and get ready. Katy and I are meeting Blimp at the corner by the old Convent. I hope I don`t forget my lines! Grampa Mac says "break a leg!" I probably will!

...................Four hours later......
I am writing this at the green work table snug in my attic bedroom. Katy is asleep downstairs or at least pretending to be, and the house is quiet.

Wow, what a night! They say"all`s well that ends well" but for a while there I didn`t think things were going to end well at all.

The play itself went OK. But after the final curtain came down and we were all sitting down in front with the moms and dads Mr Thackerby had the bright idea of thanking everybody involved in the production. This he did by calling them up on stage, and one of the first people he called was, of course, "our illustrious directer, Walter Cram."

Cram mounted the stairs like a King going to his Coronation. He was as puffed up as a weenie in a deep fryer. He wasn`t wearing a tuxedo, but he was sporting an impressive black suit all the same, with a crisp white shirt and a flowery tie which somehow made his face look even redder than usual.

He made his bow to the audience and received their applause with a smug look on his face.

At that precise moment, just as Mr Thackerby was motioning Cram to take a seat upstage beside a row of elderly lady teachers who had assisted with the costumes, props and make-up,-at that precise moment every light in the hall went out.

The audience gasped. An eerie green glow lit the stage.

And then, down from the grid high above the curtain swung a masked stocky figure wearing a ridiculous blue plumed wig. There were gasps and shrieks from the audience. With one hand holding on to a rope the figure swept across the stage towards Thackerby and Cram. In his other hand the portly acrobat balanced what appeared to be an enormous creamed pie with about a foot of the white foam piled up on top of it.

Everyone could see what was going to happen but nobody could believe it. We held our breath!

Before either the teacher or the principal could move, the portly fiend had plucked the toupee` from Thackerby`s head with his elbow and plowed Cram smack in the puss with the impossibly huge whipped cream pie. Kersplotto!


I have never laughed so hard in my life.

All hell broke loose on stage though. The lady teachers were shrieking and screaming as the wild-wigged acrobat dropped from his rope and scampered offstage into the shadows. Nobody knew what to do. Nobody thought of giving chase.

Meanwhile, Mr Thackerby was down on his hands and knees trying to pull his toupee` from beneath Cram`s feet.

Cram, blinded by the incredible blob of whipped cream still sticking to his face was doing a kind of dance on top of it.
Thackerby tugged, Cram slipped in the goop and both went down together with their feet in the air.
The crowd roared with laughter.

Cursing like a trooper now and floundering about like a great fat bozo Cram was mucking the whipped cream from his eyes and flinging it in every which direction.Some of it went straight into Mr Thackerby`s eye.

Thackerby, his bald head gleaming in the light, miraculously restored, was hollering at Cram to get a hold of himself and moderate his language.

Meanwhile, Miss Carlton`s Grade two class, Katy among them, red beret and all,- was rioting in the aisles . Onstage one of the older lady teachers had fainted dead away.

It came to me then, like a quiet revelation- amidst the whoops and the howls and the cursing and the laughter- this moment at Central
school would live forever.

By now some kindly soul had turned up the rest of the lights and people were righting the overturned chairs, quieting the younger children or trying to, sitting down and gradually restoring order all around.

Katy came and sat beside me, all breathless and wide-eyed.

The shrieks and exclamations died away.

The still excited murmers died away.

An embarrassed uneasy hush fell over the gym.

Somebody coughed.

Then another quiet revelation came to me.

Someone was going to have to pay for all of this
.
I should have guessed who.

I should have seen it coming, for indeed, it had been coming ever since that first day back in September when Cram first set eyes on Blimp. It had been hate at first sight. Some sort of wierd bad chemistry between them. And now, up there on the stage, all sticky and mad with drying whipped cream splattered all over his face and his brand new suit, it must have dawned on Cram that Blimp Hanlon was somehow responsible for this, his most embarrassing moment in life so far. And meanwhile where was Blimp?

Cram stumbled over to the podium, helped Mr Thackerby to his feet and brushed him off. The Principal`s toupee` was flopped on his head any old how like an old dead cat. He looked like the wild man of Borneo after a three day drunk.

Cram yelled in his face as he grabbed him by the lapels.

"Can`t you see? Can`t you guess who`s responsible for this outrage? Well I`m going to tell you. It`s that fat little misbegotten cheeky-faced trouble making class disrupting rule breaking Hanlon kid!"

"Boooooooooooooooo!" went the crowd. This was hitting below the belt.

"Oh yes it was!" yelled Cram getting wilder by the moment."I recognize his style! Look at him, Mr Thackerby, just look at him just coming through the door there pretending to be so innocent. Look at the smirk on his fat little face! It was him, I tell you! He knows all about it. It`s always him. Whenever anything goes wrong in class I always know he`s behind it somewhere up to his fat little eyeballs!"

"Oh sit down and shut up." called a man in the audience and three or four people applauded him.

"He`s innocent until proven guilty." yelled another.

"I don`t need proof!" Cram hollered back.

"OOOOOOOOOO!" went the crowd. He`d gone too far, it seems.

Mr Thackerby pushed Cram back and grabbed the microphone. "Will the Hanlon boy and his parents if they are here tonight please see me in my office before they go home? And may I just assure everybody if the lad was responsible we will have no recourse but to expell him from school. Mr Cram is right on this point, there have been other incidents reported to me since term started."

There were concerned ooohs and aaahs all around us and I looked at my chum and swallowed hard, for I knew in my heart I had suspected him as well and I was supposed to be his best friend.

"Wait!" boomed a voice from the back of the hall. "Hang on a minute, you`ve caught hold of the wrong man!"

I craned my head around and there was Ben Rumson, our bearded, boozing, beloved Janitor. HIs grey hair was all matted like he had just woken up. His shirt was open at the neck. He made his way unsteadily up the aisle through the curious murmers of the crowd and everyone turned to look at him walk by in his baggy, sagging trousers and his old tweed jacket patched at the elbows and his blown out cracked leather boots.

In one hand he clutched the flat green bottle I`d seen him swig from so often. In his other hand he held something wild and blue and tangled. I guess we all knew then who it was who had been behind the pranks.

I felt sick to my stomach.

"Oh No!" moaned Katy. "Not Ben. Not my Ben. They`ll fire him Seany, for sure they will. He never should have told."

I squeezed her hand and shushed her. "What else could he do?" I muttered glancing at Blimp. He looked down at his shoes and hung his head.

By now Ben had reached the steps leading up to the stage. With his head thrown back and his close-cropped beard upthrust and jutting, he had a kind of barrel-chested Shakespearean grandeur. I couldn`t help noticing that even at this- the "supreme" moment of his career, he had a book sticking out of his back pocket. The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie.

With his hand on the bannister Rumson climbed the steps and walked over to the podium where Cram and Mr Thackerby stood glaring at him.

A hush fell over the hall and I waited for the axe to fall.

Ben`s speech, like the little coloured cards he had printed, was short and to the point. After slipping the flat green bottle inside his coat he gave Mr thackerby a folded sheet of paper.

"Young master Hanlon had nought to do with this." he said hoarsely, looking our Principal straight in the eye and then glancing at Cram."Whilst sweeping out your office a fortnight ago ,Sir, I came across this rough draft of a letter engaging a local firm to take over the cleaning of this school. After twenty three years at the job, Squire, I felt I deserved better treatment at your hands. That`s why I did what I did." He flung the wig down at their feet.

Cram was looking at him with a contemptuous sneer on his face. "Is that how you justify your behaviour? After terrorizing the senior teaching staff of this school for the past week?" He turned and addressed the audience, confident they were now on his side. "Are we the taxpayers who pay this ruffian`s salary going to put up with his drunken shenanigans any longer?" Cram struck a dramatic pose."I think not!" he cried, making the rafters ring.

"Oh sit down." muttered Thackerby in disgust, tugging at his toupee` irritably and making it look worse. He turned to Ben and eyed him sharply from beneath tufted brows."Rumson, I had not definately decided to engage the cleaning firm you`ve referred to but your behaviour here tonight clinches the matter. You`re sacked as of this instant. Get your belongings together and be out of the suite by Monday morning."

A swelling chorus of boooooo followed this pronouncement and Thackerby looked uneasy and fingered his collar.

A man behind me shouted out."That`s not fair!"

A woman shrilled"Give him another chance. Our children like how he reads to them. They like him better than they do you!"
Mr Thackerby winced.

"That`s beside the point!" Cram shouted back at her furiously.
Thackerby turned on him. "I told you to sit down and to shut up. You`re just making matters worse and stirring up trouble. I have to answer to these people but you have to answer to me. Now sit down."

Cram`s mouth dropped open and he sagged visibly. He spun around on his heel and walked with great dignity over to his chair beside Mrs Plumptree and sat down.

The chair promptly collapsed beneath him and he fell flat on his bee bum once again with his feet even higher in the air than last time.
The crowd cheered lustily and started to applaud.

Cram just lay there, defeated.

Ben took the microphone and motioned the crowd to be stilled. Then he said "Beggin` your pardon folks, I forgot about that last little bit of work."

Even Principal Thackerby had to join in the laughter seeing Ben look so penitent. With a big smile on his face and one eye on the crowd who paid his salary too, Thackerby clapped Rumson heartily on the back and said" Ben, that last little bit of work is just about the best reason I can think of for taking you back!" He glared down at Cram as if disowning him. "All`s well that ends well, hey Ben?" he said, shaking Ben by the hand.

The crowd cheered!


The End.