The Incredible Daniel Dee and Me: Abandoned Beginnings

CHAPTER ONE

     Farty Farrel was screwing around again. He had hooked up a couple of batteries to the hamster cage in Science Lab, and was tempting the hamsters to the bars with a handful of peanuts. Every time one came close to the metal wire it received a jolting shock that sent it squealing back to the center of the cage, quivering in pain.

     Although we were supposed to be partners, he hadn't helped me a bit on my perpetual motion machine. We were only partners by default, anyway. With me, no one wanted to be my partner. With him, no one wanted to get killed.

     "Why do you have to torment those poor animals for anyway?" I asked. "Why can't you work on something that will benefit mankind, like my machine?"

     "Can it, creep," he said. "This is more than just a little fun. This is behavioral studies. I'm teaching these hamsters things with this experiment."

     "Oh? Like what?"

     His eyes lit up with sadistic glee.

     "Fear."

     By the end of the lab I had gotten nowhere with my project. We all returned to our desks and began doing math.

     It was a hot, heavy September day. Melissa May Joiner made herself a paper fan and waved it in front of her face. There was little to amuse me in these long hours before lunch, but I got by with watching Mike Leavis trying not to fall asleep.

     He looked all right, but every now and then his head would bob down. He'd snap his head back up and be fine for a few minutes, then he'd nod again. Finally in social studies it was too much for him and his head fell with a clunk on his desk. Everybody laughed, except Miss Bratton, who sighed. Miss Bratton sighed a lot.

     I fidgeted in my desk. It seemed I had been sitting for hours, and the clock never moved. I kicked my heels, doodled on my scratch sheet, and wondered how I'd endure the months to the nearest vacation. School had barely been in for a month and a half, and it seemed it had been forever. Part of it was being stuck with the same people since first grade and knowing everything they would say or do. There seemed little hope of change.

     And then, change came.

     There was the sound of clacking shoes in the hallway, then a knock at the door. Everyone straightened up and tried to look alert: we knew the sound of the principal's shoes when we heard them. Miss Bratton went over and opened the door and stepped out. We heard them talking a moment but couldn't make out what they were saying. Farty threw a spitwad. Suddenly Miss Bratton came back in. With her was a strange boy.

     She brought him up to the front of the class and put her hands on his shoulders.

     "Class," she said. "We have a new student with us today. His family just moved here this week, and his name is Daniel Dee. Say hello, class."

     "Hello," we echoed, with different degrees of enthusiasm. I was a little disappointed. You would think a new kid would be interesting, but he wasn't. He looked about as plain as possible.

     He was a little shorter than average, with mousy brown hair and watery blue eyes behind a round pair of glasses. He had on a plain blue shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. In one thin hand he clutched a pile of textbooks, and in the other was a satchel that he was holding onto pretty tight.

     "Hello," he said. Poor guy, I thought.

     I looked over at Farty. It was obvious what he was thinking. He had a collection agency by which he relieved kids of their ice cream money in the restrooms, where the teachers couldn't see. By the grin on his face I could tell he was happy at the thought of an easy kill.

     I shot my eyes over to Melissa May and saw that wrinkle on her nose that meant she was hoping that the new student wasn't competition for her position as class genius and pet. I groaned and inwardly vowed to give this Daniel guy a few tips on school survival.

     "Daniel, you may sit in the empty desk in the second row for now," the teacher directed him. "We may move you later."

     This put him directly opposite me. I politely averted my eyes as he settled in, rattling around in his satchel until he had pens, paper, and pencils at ready. By the time Miss Bratton had filled out his paperwork it was only a few minutes to lunch, so she crammed in a quick lesson and handed out a worksheet just in time for the bell.

     The lunch room was a big hall where all the grades from one to six ate. It was a good day for once, with hamburgers rather than one of those weird ground meat and potato messes that the cafeteria cooks seemed so fond of. After everyone got their plates they broke up into their groups of friends. I sat down at the far end alone as usual. I had just started eating when that Daniel guy came and sat down at the table opposite me, a little further down.

     For a little while everybody just ate. Then Farty, who'd been looking sneakily around at Daniel while he ate, brought his plate over and sat uncomfortably close next to him.

     "Heya, squirt," he said. "Mind if I have some French fries?" He reached over, grabbed a few, and stuffed them in his face.

     I grimaced. This was nothing new to me; Farty had pestered and stolen food from just about everybody, especially me. But Daniel's eyes got wide behind those fishbowl glasses and his mouth popped open with a stifled yelp. Farty took a couple more.

     "So you're Daniel Dee, huh?" he smacked. "What's the D stand for, Dork?"

     "It's D-E-E, Dee," the smaller boy said.

     "DeeDee, huh?" said Farty. "Well, my name's Farrel, Bruce Farrel, but you can call me Sir."

     "Cut it out, Farty," I said. His fist flicked past my head, but I dodged so only the edge stung my ear.

     "Nobody calls me Farty," he spat. "Hear me?"

     "Not to your face, anyway," I mumbled, but he had already turned back to the new guy, who sat there flushing red. It was hard to tell if he was afraid or really angry, his expression didn't change. I think that really annoyed Farty.

     "Don't ever let me hear you calling me Farty or I'll flatten you," he threatened. He picked up his plate to move away.

     "I'll get you later, White," he growled. "I'll get you like one of my hamsters."

     I looked over at Daniel and said, "Welcome to the wonderful world of McQueeney Elementary, home of the famous Fartosaurus. Beware his mighty roar!"

     He smiled, and I grinned back. "My name's Will White," I said, and we shook hands. "So, are you Danny, or what?"

     "It's always been Daniel," he said. "In my old school we had three Daniels. One was Dan, one was Danny, and I got Daniel."

     I finished my burger and took a sip of chocolate milk. "Don't take it too personally with old Farty. He's like that to everybody. He's stronger than anybody so he bullies us all, and his folks are richer than anybody and run the schoolboard, so they can bully any teacher. Plus, he's psychotic. The best thing to do is try to avoid him."

     Daniel pushed his glasses up on his nose. "He'd better learn to avoid me," he said.

     I almost laughed; I did swallow my milk funny. Here was this skinny little kid talking about Farrel! I mean, he was even smaller than me. I just raised my eyebrows and said "Hmm, we'll see."

     "Yes, we will," he said.

 

     After lunch was over and I went out to the playground, I lost sight of Daniel. When the first bell rang I went back to class. Some people were always in first and some people always came in later. I was one of the few who came in early, so I saw the first weird thing that happened.

     Daniel was sitting in his desk, staring over at the science corner. There was the wired hamster cage, with a strip of tape on it that said plainly B. FARREL. Sometimes the other early kids would look at Daniel, but they weren't looking where he was looking. I was, so I saw it.

     He was staring real hard, like a hypnotist or something, right at one of the hamsters. I noticed he had his left hand raised up to his chin, and that on his third finger there was something that looked like a bubble-gum machine ring. It glinted a little. Suddenly the hamster went stiff, and walked over to where the batteries were rigged up to the cage. He went right up to it.

     You know how hamsters' feet are like little hands? Well, he stuck those little hands through the bars and began fiddling around with the wiring, just like he knew what he was doing. After a minute he stopped like the job was finished, then he snapped back to being just a hamster. He scampered into the corner. Daniel relaxed and looked away.

     By now Mrs. Bratton and most of the class were all in, and last of all in came Farty.

     It was his job to feed his project after lunch. This was always good for a few more shocks. He went over to the cage, rattling the food box and grinning in anticipation. He reached over and flipped the switch.

     There was an audible zap and a spark, and suddenly Farty was howling and running around the room like a whipped dog. I gaped. The hamster had rewired the battery so that the current went to the switch instead of the cage.

     While Miss Bratton tried to sooth the yelping Farty, I looked over at Daniel.

     He was smiling with immense satisfaction.

     Right then I decided something was weird, and that I was going to find out what it was.