Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music! (Part 18)

“And that’s that.” My explanation concluded matter-of-factly. Vance was stunned. “I have to admit, you pulled it off almost flawlessly. I was completely tricked. I didn’t know anything about how sports worked, and you could tell, couldn’t you? So when we checked your swim locker, you knew it wouldn’t even cross my mind that you had two more where that came from. And why did you have two more where that came from? I’ll tell you why. Because, Vance Valiance…”

I paused for dramatic effect and pointed straight at him, gesturing my objection to his wrongdoings like I was a lawyer in a crisp blue suit.

“...you also do tennis and track! Therefore, in addition to your swim locker, you also have lockers for tennis and track too! That’s where you hid the violins.”

“N-no! How could you—”

“And that’s not all!” Nuh uh. I wasn’t letting him get a word in. “Your treachery knows even more depraved extents than that. Because according to my recent google search just 20 minutes ago…”

Another dramatic pause. Boy, was I on a roll.

“...swimming is a spring sport in this state! That’s right: spring. A season in which we currently are precisely not. So then why, pray tell, were you at ‘swimming practice’ when I met you the other day?”

“B-because, because I—!”

“I’ll tell you why: you weren’t!! There was no swimming practice that day, or any day this week, because practice for the spring swimming season hasn’t started yet. That’s why you were alone the other day and it’s why you’re alone now. Your faux swimming practice was just a way to throw any potential pursuers off of your dastardly trail after you stashed the violins in your other lockers. It almost worked too. The biggest hole in your plan? It’s not spring.”

“But it’s almost spring—!”

“‘Almost spring?’ ‘Almost spring’ means it isn’t spring! Also, what are you even talking about? It’s mid fall. About as far as you can possibly get from spring.”

“Why you…”

“It’s time to give it up, Vance. You’ve been found out, and you’ve practically admitted to everything. This is the end of the road.”

“Damn!”

“I’m curious though. Why did you do it? You’re the best violin player in the marching band. What did you have to gain by all of this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Uh, yeah. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You’re really that desperate to hear the truth, aren’t you?”

“...I mean, I guess it’s not that important. You don’t have to explain. Let’s just forget it.”

“W-wait! I-if you insist, then fine. I’ll tell you. But I’ll only say it once, so listen good.”

…He was dying to spill the beans, wasn’t he?

“Swimming: the momentum to rend water. Tennis: dominion over airspace. Track: to be one with the earth and cover infinite ground. And finally, music: the fiery passion that ignites men’s souls. Combined, all of these—”

“Ok, ok, I get it. You’re a prodigy in three sports and an instrument. Would you cut to the chase already? Else we’ll actually be here till spring...” Talking back to him while he was in such a frenzied state was about as testy as you could get with fate, but I couldn’t help it. This had to be some of the dullest throat clearing in history.

“That is exactly right, Wallace Wade. I am a shining star, through and through. Exactly right. Exactly right. Exactly right.”

Apparently it was so exactly right that he had to exact his right to say it was exactly right again. And again. And again. And again for good measure.

“I am a shining star! Anyone who doubts that I am the pinnacle of all that humanity has ever had to offer is no more than a jealous gnat, buzzing in incessant and worthless circles in my great and mighty wake, envious of my superiority and too bitter and resentful to attempt to aspire to even 1/256th of my greatness. Not only am I the best swimmer on the swim team, the most agile tennis player on the tennis team, and the fastest runner on the track team, I am also the single most proficient violinist this school — no, the entire world — has ever had the privilege and honor to witness. No sound as mellifluous, no tone as melodious, no timbre as soothing and delightful to the ear as the work of my skillful bow at play on the strings of my beautiful violin have ever graced this planet, and none ever will again. I am the apex, the pinnacle, the beginning and the end!”

Sheesh. I was starting to regret coaxing the truth out of him in the first place. This was downright excruciating. The scales of my patience were quickly tipping into “hurry the hell up” territory.

I had to admit though: I was kind of impressed. Hiding all that arrogance beneath the surface probably took a ton of skill and self control. Skill and self control that, for the sake of my sanity, I wished he was still exercising.

“So then why? Why did I have to suffer such complete and utter humiliation at the hands of those who should have been singing my praises and my praises alone? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve to be humbled by such poor, plebeian musicians? Because those dumb stupid idiots in the marching band just couldn’t get it through their thick, tone-deaf skulls that I was the best of the best of the best of the best of the best of the best of the best of the best of the best of the best!”

The best of the best x10, huh? I guessed that meant he was the best of the 10 violin players in the band. Which I already knew. And every other violin player in the band knew it too. In fact, they were all more than willing to admit it. So what was this guy’s problem?

“They kept praising me and praising me and praising me for being the best violin player in the whole world. They just wouldn’t stop. Striking Eyes and Valentine and all the rest. They practically worshiped the ground I played violin on. It was awful. Pure torture!”

Wait, what? He was mad because he was getting praised? What the heck!?

The end of Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music (Part 18)!
To be continued in Part 19!