Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music! (Part 7)

I slid a single sheet of paper onto the cardboard box table. It smeared a track of squishy snot in its wake. It was the list of violin players that Mr. Treble had given me this morning. “This is why I need you guys here,” I said.

“Throw away your own old disgusting handkerchief, dude. Don’t ask us to literally take out your trash.”

“It’s not a handkerchief. And it’s not trash. And it’s not disg— err, ok. Scratch that. It is actually pretty disgusting. But what it also is… is the marching band roster. See this? This scratched out name?”

“Yep.” Evan nodded without even looking. He was seeing with his third eye, the one that let him play on his phone all day while still functioning as a semi-normal human being. “That Contraire one, right?”

“Bingo. Contraire is the last name of the last person I have to question.”

“What’s up with this though?” Greg pointed to the scribbled out first name next to “Contraire.” “It looks more scribbly than Evan’s math homework. No offense, Evan.”

“None taken.”

I shrugged. “Beats me. I don’t know why it’s like that either. But we can ask Contraire in person, I guess. I didn’t have time before school, so Lily pulled some strings and got Contraire to agree to meet me right now. She’ll be here any minute.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Greg. “Hang out. Time on." He was getting a little mixed up, it sounded like.

He continued. "‘She?’ I thought you said Lily split the list 50/50. You took the guys and she took the girls.”

“We thought so too. But Lily did a little digging while I was in class today, and as it turns out, Contraire is a girl. There were actually six girl violin players and only four guys. And since Lily is still busy questioning the last girl on her side of the list…”

“...you’re left with Contraire,” Greg finished for me.

“Bingo,” I repeated.

I had talked to Lily on the phone earlier, and her investigation seemed to be in a bit of a rough spot. She was still trying to get as much info as she could out of the girls she was questioning, and from the sound of it, they were being particularly uncooperative. She kept apologizing that it was taking so long. I told her not to sweat it. Mostly cause I had no idea whether robots even could sweat.

“And that’s why you guys are here,” I said. “Backup.”

“Backup?” Greg sounded confused.

“In case I stutter or forget what to say. You know how bad I usually am at talking to girls.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but haven’t you been getting better lately, dude? I mean, you talk to Lily all the time, right? And what about that karate girl you told us about?”

“Tuesnight,” said Evan.

“Tuesday,” I corrected.

“Right,” Greg continued, “Tuesday. You talked to her just fine, didn’t you?”

“That’s true. I have been getting better thanks to all the time I’ve been spending with Lily. But the truth is I can only talk to Lily cause she’s a robot, so that doesn’t count. And I was able to talk to Tuesday cause I got used to talking to her while I was around Lily.”

Damn. Saying it aloud like that really just drove home how much I had to 👉depend👈 on Lily for, didn’t it?

“I don’t know who Contraire is,” I continued, “and Lily isn’t back yet. Hence…”

Greg sighed. “...Backup.”

“You got it.”

Just above Evan’s phone screen (he was holding it disturbingly close to his face again), I saw him narrow his eyes.

“Don’t worry though,” I said. “Even if things go wrong and I balls everything up when Contraire gets here, I always have plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Yep. Plan B. A.K.A. the Striking Eyes plan.”

“Oh yeah,” said Greg, remembering what I had explained. “What was that whole ‘Striking Eyes’ thing anyway? You said the name kept coming up during your questioning.”

“Yep. First Valentine Vermicelli mentioned a ‘Striking Eyes,’ and then Vance did too. I don’t really know what’s up either. But from what I gather, this Striking Eyes person is someone in the know. Whoever they are, they may be able to help. Or at least give me a clue. So if I mess up and can’t get anything out of Contraire, or make a fool of myself and start turning red and have to run away and change my name and flee the country, then I can always try to turn the conversation to Striking Eyes and see if Contraire knows where I can find him. Even if I don’t get anything useful out of Contraire, I’m sure I can get a clue out of Striking Eyes at least.”

“So you’re just using us as a crutch for extra safety then!” Greg said.

Evan nodded. “A security blanket.”

“Don’t be like that. What ever happened to the Three Muskrateers, huh? The three of us against the world, through thick and thin? All for one and one for all?”

“‘Three Muskrateers?’ What's that all about? Well, does kinda smell muskrat-y here… musty and gross.”

“Wow! Seriously? Come on, Greg. I can't believe you forgot about the whole Three Muskrateers thing." I was kind of jealous. I was really the one who wanted to forget all about what happened in the cafeteria that day. And literally everything that's happened after, come to think of it. "And what’s up with your voice all of a sudden? Why’s it so high?”

“What?” Greg said. “Dude, I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t?”

He shook his head sheepishly.

“Then who just…?” I looked at Evan.

“Wasn’t me.” He shrugged.

Then I guess the comment must have come from…

… me?

Yeah, that makes absolutely no sense.

Then who just said that? The only people in the room were me, Greg, Evan, and…

“Wah!”

I nearly jumped out of my seat. And I didn’t even have a seat to jump out of. That’s how shocked I was.

There it was. I was face to face with it, right there, smack between Evan’s head and Greg’s.

It was a big. Red. Glob.

It was round and huge, matte and featureless, an overinflated, jiggly red balloon hanging in midair. It looked a little bit like this: 🔴.

It was bobbing up and down like it had a will of its own.

For all I knew, it did.

Because then it started talking.

The end of Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music (Part 7)!
To be continued in Part 8!