Miss Switch Online Read online

  “Courage, friend!” came Fred’s voice from my pocket.

  “Thanks!” I said, my courage being in short supply at that moment.

  But I remembered the last time I had seen what I’d thought was the moon’s reflection turned out to be the reflected light of a Bunsen burner inside my classroom, with Miss Switch hovering over it. I had no reason to think there would be a Bunsen burner in the library, but with Miss Switch you never knew. I needed a closer look. Reaching up and grabbing the windowsill, I hoisted myself up onto a ledge that ran around the building, and peered into the window. But except for some dim light from the moon, the library was dark. Pitch-dark. And empty.

  “Anything there?” asked the voice in my pocket.

  “Nothing that I’m looking for,” I replied, and dropped back to the ground. What a letdown! Not that I wanted anything really nasty to happen to Fred and me, but it seemed a real waste of time, getting all scared for nothing. “I guess it’s back to school tomorrow with eyes peeled,” I said. “Unless … unless …”

  “Unless what?” asked Fred.

  “Unless she might be someplace else!” I said excitedly. “And I’ve got an idea where—my classroom!”

  I started to run. Well, it stood to reason, didn’t it? Wasn’t my classroom where Miss Switch and I had always met before? Of course, that used to be the fifth grade, and now I was in the sixth, but I was certain she would figure that out. I quickly found the Room Twelve windows, took a deep breath, and hoisted myself up.

  “Here goes!” I said, and pressed my nose up against the glass.

  And someone was there! Sitting at her desk with a small desk lamp on, marking papers. She must have heard me scrambling onto the ledge, because I had barely pressed my nose against the window, when she looked up. She jumped up and came toward the window. I was so startled, I couldn’t even manage a squeak. She unlatched the window and threw it up.

  Oh no! It couldn’t be, I thought. But it was!

  “M-M-M-M-Miss B-B-B-B-Blossom?” I croaked. I very nearly lost my grip on the windowsill and went sailing off the ledge backwards, with Fred and all. “E-E-E-Excuse me, but I was looking for s-s-s-some-one else,” I quavered, hoping stupidly that I would not be pressed for details.

  “For goodness’ sake, Rupert, I am someone else,” Miss Blossom snapped. “Don’t you recognize me? I thought you knew who I was.”

  “M-M-M-Miss S-S-S-Switch?” I stammered.

  “No other,” said Miss Blossom. “And you’d better climb on in here before you fall and break your head. It would be a great loss to the scientific community if you did, you know.”

  I scrambled speedily through the window. But I was still in a daze and had to hang on to the nearest desk to keep from keeling over.

  As I was trying to steady myself, I saw Miss Blossom’s lips widen into a thin smile. “Didn’t recognize me, eh? Splendid!”

  Uh-oh! I thought immediately. If this actually was some kind of crazy disguise, couldn’t it just as well be disguising Saturna as Miss Switch? Had I walked right into a trap? At any moment, could I find myself turned into a toad or a rat or just about anything? As for poor Fred hiding in my pocket, he could end up birdseed. And what could I do about it? Not much; I’d just have to try to bulldoze my way through, and somehow figure out how to make my escape.

  “What’s so splendid about it, Miss Switch … or Miss Blossom … or … or … ”—I paused to narrow my eyes as if I wasn’t being fooled for a minute, and was ready to deal with any situation—“or whoever you really are.”

  “What do you mean by ‘whoever you really are’?” asked Miss Blossom, peering out from under her huge eyelashes. “Haven’t we just established that?”

  “You have,” I said with the best sneer I could manage under these conditions. “You … you could be just about anybody, for all I know.”

  “Well, then,” said Miss Blossom, “please wipe that silly look off your face, step outside the classroom, close the door behind you, then stand and wait until I call you.”

  My chance to escape! The school doors were all unlocked on the inside. I could easily get away and race home. Instead, all I did was wipe, step, close, stand like a dumb dodo—and wait.

  “What’s up?” came the voice from my pocket.

  I groaned. “Don’t even ask,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.

  I couldn’t have waited more than three minutes, when the order was given from behind the door: “You may return now, Rupert!”

  I did, and was I ever glad I hadn’t turned chicken and run off! Standing right where Miss Blossom had stood was a familiar figure all in black—black dress, long black cape, and over long, charcoal-black straight hair, a tall, pointed black hat. From under the brim of the hat, a pair of eyes, slanted and glassy green, shot out sparks that fell hissing onto the teacher’s desk. The mountain of lemon-yellow curls was gone. The long eyelashes were gone. The pink dress with the bows and frills was gone.

  No, not quite gone. Because those items were all lying on a desk—mine, as it turned out. The yellow curls that were now nothing but a collapsed wig, the eyelashes that looked more than ever like a pair of dead centipedes, and the ridiculous pink dress. That was, for the moment, all that remained of Miss Blossom.

  7

  The Stupidest Man Alive

  “Satisfied?” inquired Miss Switch.

  “Well … well, why did you have to go and disguise yourself in that loony outfit?” I asked, rising to my own defense. “No … no wonder I didn’t know who you were.”

  “Loony?” said Miss Switch.

  Oops! I could tell by the tone of her voice that I had made a huge mistake. On a scale of one to ten, it was several million degrees below the temperature of ice. I could practically feel her glass-green stare boring a hole in my lame brain.

  Now I have to admit that much as I liked Miss Switch, every time I met up with her as her actual self, it was pretty scary It always took me a while to get used to the idea of what she was. I mean, when you’ve spent all your life thinking certain things about certain kinds of people, it’s hard to start thinking something else on a moment’s notice. So even though I knew I’d be crazy to think good old Miss Switch would ruin my future by turning me into a toad or a bat or a lizard just to prove a point, still, a witch is a witch is a witch. There are certain things in life it pays to bear in mind, and it seems to me that’s one of them.

  “What I meant to say is ‘unusual,’ Miss Switch. It’s really okay. Actually, not bad at all,” I said, backpedaling like crazy. “How did you come up with that … er … interesting hairdo?”

  “That came from a picture in a fashion magazine I found while I was swooping around one night,” Miss Switch said. “Of course it wasn’t exactly a new magazine.”

  I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut on this one. “Where did you find it?” was all I asked.

  “I happened to float by a house where some people were clearing out their attic. I spotted the magazine, and went floating back for it later. And I found the dress there as well. What a find! Don’t you agree?”

  “Sure do!” I replied, getting smarter by the minute.

  “I designed the eyelashes myself!” Miss Switch said proudly

  “The finishing touch!” I said.

  “Of course, I had some trouble with the lip paint,” Miss Switch said, giving me a narrowed, sideways look.

  “It … it looked fine to me,” I said.

  “Now I know you’re lying, Rupert!” Miss Switch snapped. “But the point is, does your fertile mind have any ideas as to how to modify the fashion picture?”

  This sounded like a question loaded with land mines. I hesitated. Then I hesitated further.

  “Oh, come, come, Rupert,” said Miss Switch. “I need some help here.”

  “Well,” I said, “how about … how about getting rid of some of the frills and bows on the dress.” My heart was going a mile a minute as I waited to see how Miss Switch would
take this.

  Her eyes narrowed further. Her eyebrows raised. Then she dropped down at her desk, picked up a pencil, and started making notes. “Rid of frills and bows,” she muttered as she wrote. “Next?”

  I was feeling a little bolder. “You might trim the eyelashes,” I suggested.

  “Trim eyelashes,” wrote Miss Switch. “Next?”

  “I’d work a little harder on the … er … lip paint,” I said. “Straighten it out a bit.”

  “Work on lip paint,” wrote Miss Switch. “Next?”

  “That leaves the wig,” I said, and gave a deep sigh. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you about that.”

  “Hopeless?” said Miss Switch.

  “Sort of,” I replied.

  “Hopeless. Do the best you can,” wrote Miss Switch. She laid down her pencil with a thump. “Now that’s done with, but I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back in my own cozy outfit. Even that gray number I wore in the past is better than my latest disguise.”

  “Then why don’t you just go back to it, Miss Switch?” I asked. “The class would sure be glad to have you back.”

  “Impossible!” said Miss Switch. “I can’t blow my cover.”

  “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 Switch, I know!” I blurted excitedly “I know exactly how!”

  8

  An Analysis of Tweet, Tweet, Tweet, Tweet

  Having delivered this piece of what I considered to be amazing news, I sat back in Peatmouse’s desk and waited for Miss Switch to be suitably amazed.

  “What are you babbling about, Rupert?” she inquired. “Just how could you know anything like that?”

  “I only figured it out by accident. It’s why I needed proof you really were Miss Switch. I thought you might actually be Saturna!” I announced. “I know Saturna has it in for me because I wrecked the computowitch.”

  “Computowitch! Oh, how I hate the sound of that word! That stupid little machine conde
mning me to sweep Witch’s Mountain for one hundred fifty years if I didn’t come up with some original witchcraft!” Miss Switch leaped up from the desk and began to stride furiously up and down at the front of the classroom. Her eyes were shooting out so many sparks, I had to duck to keep from having some of them sizzle right on me.

  “I … I’m sorry, Miss Switch,” I said meekly. “I didn’t mean to get you so upset.”

  Miss Switch flopped back into Creampuff’s desk, pulled out a tablet of lined yellow paper from under the lid, and began fanning herself. “No apologies necessary, Rupert,” she said. “After all, you’re the one who came up with the idea of telling that machine what a popular teacher I was with the Pepperdine fifth grade. That astonishing piece of news completely wrecked it. No more issuing orders. Gone! Never to be heard of again!”

  “Not … not exactly gone, Miss Switch,” I said in a very small voice.

  She turned and glared at me. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

  “I’m afraid it’s sort of … sort of come back,” I said, cringing.

  “WHAT?” howled Miss Switch.

  “It’s okay, Miss Switch. It really is!” I nearly choked getting this out as fast as I could. After all, I wasn’t anxious to have another fireworks display. “It’s come back in a different form … via a genuine computer! But now that I know about this, I think it’s going to be very helpful.”

  “It better be!” moaned Miss Switch.

  “It is. I’m sure of it,” I said. “I found out about it when I was writing an e-mail to Spook. That’s Amelia, who’s left town with her family, Miss Switch. I was telling her how I hoped you’d be appearing again. I got around to mentioning the computowitch, and my computer suddenly went crazy, the screen shivering, colors changing, my computer heaving in and out like it was having trouble breathing. I’m not going to go into the whole thing now, because it’s just the end of it that matters. After my computer settled down, it had the word ‘computowitch’ on the screen. I was doodling around and added a ‘.com’ to it, and guess what?”