137. Tansy Mandrakecott

While the students were partaking of Michael’s cake, I was reading the graffiti scrawled all over the walls of the cave we were in. There was mostly obscenity, coprological messages, bad jokes, a few ingenious ones, some threats and some advice, several complaints and more stuff all in mostly bad taste. Although something dark kept hovering over whatever I was trying to read, it looked to me as if some of the writing on the wall had been done with a pencil like my sister’s. 

“Sirs, from the graffiti on these walls I would say the pencil we are after has been here and may still be,” I said.

“Ask the class dunce,” said Penny Pincher. “He has a bag full of pencils.”

“They are all wearing dunce caps. Save one. That’s the dunce,” Gatocatcha whispered in my ear. 

And then I noticed the seventh student, who was leaning back in the only comfortable looking chair in the place, set in the darkest corner of the hall, far from the table. He was wearing a black bowler hat with a blue ribbon decorated with yellow tansy flowers. Unlike the rest, he was not in a flowing tunic but dressed in a blue suit with a light blue shirt and an also blue tie. Beside him was an old and worn suitcase that made me wonder if he might not be a travelling salesman trapped in the school by mistake.

                        

“By mistake,” he nodded, as if reading my mind. “This cave used to belong to Hercules. He founded a school of art here.”

                           

“I was told this cave once belonged to Hercules. But why an art school? Given what Hercules was like, shouldn’t he have founded a gym?”

Tansy Mandrakecott stretched his arms and yawned. Then he shrugged.

“Vanity? Wanted statues and pictures of his muscles everywhere? A yearning for perfection? Vigorexia? Who knows? Not me. But me… I’m an artist, not an occultist. I came here to see if I could learn Art. I had heard Hercules had left a talking statue of himself here that gave Art classes to anyone who cared to hear its lectures.”

“What kind of Art classes?”

“That’s what I wanted to know.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“That I should never have come here.” 

He yawned and stretched himself again, this time not just his arms but his legs too. 

Before I could ask him if he had the pencil, he nodded and opened his suitcase. It was choke-full of artist’s supplies. And yes, the pencil I was looking for stood out among them.

“I won’t give it to you until you bring me another like it,” he said.

“What sense would it make to exchange pencils?” I said.

He shook his head.

“I don’t want one of yours. I want one that was stolen from me by the blasted Blue Men of the Minch.” 

“But I’m going to want that one too,” I said, being very honest about my intentions.

“You bring me that pencil. I’ll give you this one. Then we can bargain for the one you gave me.”

When I told my companions I had to go to the Minch to persuade a race of sea demons that dwelt there to give me a pencil, they were consternated.

Don Quijote was the first to say he would follow me there.

But Touchy Surly began to shout, “Nobody is going to leave this place! Not before September Eve!”

“Oh, yes, this lad is leaving,” yawned Tansy, without moving from his chair. “He’s leaving because he will return. I’m a good judge of character and that boy won’t leave his friends trapped in here. They will be our hostages. Besides, what does this have to do with you? As long as I stay, everyone in class is present.”

Tansy turned to me and said, “You have a month, give or take a day. You need to be back before September Eve, because that’s when our teacher decides who goes and who stays. And if I’m told I can go, I won’t remain here a second after. ”

He explained that of the seven students, only one had to pay tuition. But this student had to pay for his tuition and for that of the six other pupils. He paid by working as the devil’s servant for a whole year. The other six were free to go as soon as the sun set on the 31^st of August.

“We don’t know who he will want for a slave, so for our business to work out, you must be here before the headmaster makes his choice.”

Don Alonso was indignant and it took all we could do to keep him from attacking the students.

                                                         

“Arley isn’t going anywhere alone. I don’t care if he is more than seven years old. This child can’t go to Scotland to face sea monsters on his own.”

“Don’t discourage him, man,” said Tansy. “You’re mining his self-esteem. Come on, kid. A holiday by the sea. Go!”

Before I left, Abundant Cestodes, that is, Bunny, had something to say.

“Listen, when you return, bring with you a couple of cakes like the one the little green birthday guy brought with him. That was authentic Scrumptious Cake. Better yet, bring the baker.”

“Yes!” chorused the rest. “Our teacher will want to keep her. She’ll make a better servant than any of us. Or Moll.”

                                         

“Bah!” said Moll Avery. She was standing with her back to the door, willing to open it once from the inside for me to leave. Behind her, the dark, shadowy thing that had hovered over me while I was reading the graffiti lurked stretching and trying to take the shape of the door, as if it didn’t want anyone to notice it was there.

When the demoness opened the door, I forgot all about the shadow and flew off like a bat out of hell. I was so quick Moll was blown to a side, as was the dark, hovering thing. 

                                      

                                            “Why am I so quiet?”