“Miss Switch,” I said, “does your cover include letting the class get away with what it’s been getting away with?”
“You noticed?” said Miss Switch.
“Who wouldn’t?” I said. “And I guess if you have to keep on being Miss Blossom, that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Afraid so,” said Miss Switch. Then her eyes delivered a few more angry sparks. “But if you don’t think I’d like to take Billy Swanson’s and Melvin Bothwick’s heads and knock them together, you have another think coming, Rupert. But I presume you’ve also noted that some learning was actually going on in the sixth grade, too, despite all?”
“I did notice that, Miss Switch,” I replied. “And now that I know Miss Blossom is really you, I guess I’m not surprised.”
“Thank you, Rupert,” said Miss Switch, giving me her version of a modest smile. “And I’ll see what I can do about the spitballs.”
“But are you going to tell me why you came back?” I asked. “And why you’re … er … undercover?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Miss Switch. “Find yourself a desk, Rupert. We have a great deal to talk about.”
As my desk was already occupied with the remains of Miss Blossom, I figured I might take Peatmouse’s desk. But before I could even make a start for it, something leaped off the teacher’s desk and landed right where I was standing. It must have been behind a pile of books, because I hadn’t seen it.
“Brow-ow-owl!”
“Woke up from your nap, eh, Bathsheba?” said Miss Switch. “You remember Rupert, don’t you? Rupert, you remember Bathsheba, I’m sure?”
“Oh, absolutely!” I said. And I remembered something else, too. A certain party in my jacket pocket. I could feel his little body begin to tremble right through the jacket. I quickly leaned over to pet Bathsheba, something I’d never tried before, and with my free hand stealthily zipped up the pocket containing Fred.
“Nice kitty, kitty, kitty!” I said.
“Brow-ow-owl!” growled Bathsheba. She turned to look up at Miss Switch with a pair of eyes just as slanted and glass-green as those of her owner. “Is he balmy? What’s this ‘kitty, kitty, kitty’ stuff?”
“Don’t be rude, cat!” snapped Miss Switch.
The two of them glared at each other with their matching slanting, glass-green eyes. Then, with another low, throaty growl, Bathsheba leaped back onto the teacher’s desk, sat down, and calmly started washing her whiskers.
“All right, then, cat!” snapped Miss Switch. She jumped up and, with her long black cape swishing around her ankles, strode over and dropped down into the desk next to me.
“Now, let’s get down to business, Rupert,” she said. “First of all, I’d like to know what you were doing prowling around here at midnight, if you didn’t know who I was?”
“My pets started talking to me again,” I replied. “That’s a pretty good sign you were back, Miss Switch. Actually, one of my guinea pigs thought Miss Blossom might be you in disguise.”
“That would be Guinevere,” said Miss Switch. “She’s one smart cookie, that guinea pig.”
“Well,” I said, “even though Í couldn’t believe Miss Blossom was you, I figured you had to be around somewhere. My pets and I all agreed on that. We also agreed that you only come back when you’re in trouble … or I am. Are you in trouble, Miss Switch?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” she replied coolly “But you are, Rupert. Big, big trouble! Possibly the whole sixth grade.”
“But I’ve thought about it and thought about it, Miss Switch,” I said, “and I haven’t been able to come up with a single idea about that. I mean, if you’ll excuse me, except having to put up with … with Miss Blossom.”
“Forget that!” said Miss Switch. “Doesn’t anything else come to your fertile scientific mind? Nobody else new who has entered your life recently?”
I shrugged and made a face. “Nobody but the person who’s our acting principal until Mrs. Grimble gets back. There’s nothing dangerous about him that I can tell, except that all the girls and ladies are swooning over him. It’s really disgusting. But I have to tell you, he’s the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. I mean, we’re talking television, the movies, anywhere. You’ve seen him, haven’t you, Miss Switch?”
“Yes, and I agree with you, he’s without doubt the handsomest man in the world,” replied Miss Switch.
“The universe?” I suggested.
“That, too!” snapped Miss Switch
“On a scale of one to ten, Miss Switch,” I said, “where would you say that—”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Miss Switch said. “That’s enough! Besides, there isn’t any scale for that man. He is off-the-charts handsome. But he happens to be off-the-charts some other things as well.”
“What?” I asked. Was this man off-the-charts brilliant? Was he off-the-charts famous? My ears were tingling.
“What he is,” said Miss Switch, “is the stupidest man who ever lived! He is such a dim bulb, he couldn’t find his way out of a cookie jar. He also just happens to be Saturna’s bonehead brother!”
Saturna! So she was mixed up in this somehow, I thought. I knew it!
“Saturna has had more trouble dealing with various witches who have made idiots of themselves over him,” Miss Switch went on. “She tries to keep him occupied, but it’s practically impossible. His broomstick-flying skills are almost nonexistent. He keeps ramming into things, or getting himself rammed into by some passing witch who can’t keep her eyes off him. Satuma’s put him in charge of a cave near Witch’s Mountain, which requires no brains at all. So why she would send him to Pepper-dine to do her dirty work for her is beyond me. He’s nothing better than a windup toy, and hasn’t an original thought in his head. But with Saturna in the wings somehow managing him, I can’t take any chances.
“That’s why I’ve come as Miss Blossom, Rupert, and have to put up with spitballs and all the rest even if it ruins my good disposition. But Satuma’s got to be running the show somehow or other. If I could just figure out how!”
“Miss
