UNDERCOVER on the TITANIC (book 1)

Part 18 - Electric Bookcase

We wandered around the school chatting, as she pointed out the gym, the machine shop and the cafeteria and the classrooms we normally used. Near the loading dock, an elderly man, wearing a leather cap, with welding goggles perched on the brim, and an impressive handlebar moustache, was perched on a stepladder. 

He was working on a set of grey panels that covered most of the wall. They looked like very narrow lockers but without the numbers and locks. When I asked what they were for, Licia shrugged her shoulders. 'I've no clue. Let's ask Denny.'

The elderly man on the stepladder, was pulling wires through a junction box near the ceiling. He stopped work as we approached. 'Licia,' he exclaimed, 'yer missed my class. Did yer get the notes. Who's yer friend?'

'Yes, and I finished the homework already,' Licia said. 'This is Ziff Dion. He just joined us from Toronto.' 'Ah, T'ronna,' Denny interrupted, 'the centre of the universe. Welcome to Oddawa. Ziff? Is that a Russian name?'

'I don't know,' I replied. 'Maybe.'

'We were wondering,' Licia continued, 'if these are new lockers, or what?'

'Oh, these? It's a private job . . . for Doctor Lee Zhang.' Denny sounded slightly cynical. He lifted his cap, scratched his head and beamed at us. 'It's a . . . er, bookcase. But don't spread it around,' he added conspiratorially. 'It's supposed to be a blooming secret.'

I frowned quizzically as I worked out his British accent. 'Why does a bookcase need an electrical supply?' Denny chuckled. 'That's because it's an electric bookcase . . . But I haven't time to chat. I've gotta get this finished during my lunch break.'

'Who's Doctor Lee Zhang?' I asked as we continued the tour. 

'Dr Zhang's the rich, hi-tech genius who owns the building,' Licia explained. 'He rents the ground floor to the school as some kind of tax dodge, I think. Denny teaches technology. It's all rather strange. It's so totally random. Everybody's mystified.'

We collected our lunch bags from the lockers and strolled outside. The snow had melted, the mist had burned off and the sun was shining but it was chilly. I wished I had brought my parka. We scuffed through several piles of wet leaves on our way to the front of the school. Two silver maples, perhaps the sole survivors of Silver Wood, stood either side of a flag pole with a limp Canadian flag.

Licia asked, 'Did Cannonball introduce you to Annie the Annaconda?'

'Cannonball? . . Oh, you mean Principal Ball. Yeah, Annie was all over me.'

Licia grinned. 'He loves doing that to new students. It's a sort of random initiation ceremony. He thinks he's running Hogwarts . . . By the way.  He told me you lived with your Grandma. Does that mean you are an orphan?' I looked at her sideways. More interrogation. 

'I might as well be. My father got lost in China and Mom went to look for him . . . and got lost.'

 'Oh! I am sorry. What happened?'

'I don't know. He just disappeared. Mom thinks he may have been abducted for ransom but no one has contacted us.' Talking about my missing parents made me feel sad, so I looked up beyond the Canadian flag to the crenellated tower over the front entrance. 

'This place does look a bit like Hogwarts. Do you think it was ever besieged?'

Licia laughed. 'Nobody wants to get into this place. We're all trying to get out. She suddenly pointed to the top of the tower. 'Hey! We ought to climb up there sometime. We could drop things on Boz.' 

We approached a stocky youth wearing baggy jeans sitting on a park bench. It was the guy who had given me the test paper. He looked vaguely Asiatic but his skin was a little too dark and his mop of black hair frizzy - almost African. He was shorter than Licia, about my height, but a lot heavier. 

 Licia punched him on the shoulder. He rubbed his shoulder and glared at her in mock anger. 'Ouch! What was that for?'

Licia laughed. 'That is random retaliation for the next trick you play on me.'   She turned to me. 'Ziff, this is Miguel, the class's serial killer.' I raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'It's true,' she insisted. 'Miguel eats oatmeal and cornflakes for breakfast. He's a cereal killer. Get it? He's a cereal killer.'

Miguel rolled his eyes and raised a hand in a salutation. ''Ola.' I grinned at him. 'Thanks for the test paper.'

'You're welcome. Aunty Smolkin always forgets something.' I grinned again. 'Why do you call him Aunty?'

'Because he is against the burning of innocent tobacco plants,' Licia and Miguel chorused cheerfully. 'He is anti smoking . . . Get it?'

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