Chapter Three:
Our teacher was a guy from someplace in Africa, named Mr. Mkonge. He was pretty cool, actually, although it was hard to get through his accent sometimes. The steering wheel was "tih styah-eeng hweel," and so forth. He had come to America ten years ago, had three daughters, and taught biology at a private school. Overall, he was a neat guy.
The class consisted of about thirty people. Half were strangers; the other half went to our school. As usual in any classroom, I picked a spot along the wall. It's easier to crack jokes from back there. Jake sat next to me, while Cassie and Rachel were across the room.
Mr. Mkonge explained that we would have forty-five minutes of class, then a five-minute break, then another forty-five minutes of lecture, and end with a five-minute test on what we had just learned. As he began to drone about adjusting mirrors and which pedals did what, I tuned out. Two solid hours of this for two solid weeks? One of the other kids had been complaining before class that his cousin's DE had only taken five days spread out in five weeks. Well, some people have all the luck, I guess.
Most of the material was boring. I didn't take notes, of course. If I needed them, I'd get them from Cassie later. Mostly, I was just listening and trying hard not to think about the "little complication," whatever it was. I was failing miserably. It was pretty much all I could think about. I noticed that Jake and Rachel were communicating in eyebrow language. I spoke that language too. The general message was that I wasn't going to get to hang out with the cheerleaders during the break.
"And now we are on break," announced Mr. Mkonge, in the same tone with which he had just been referring to gearshifts. I saw a twinkle in his eye. I think he was checking to see which students were really listening, and which were asleep. Cassie stood up first, since she had been tracking right along with him. Soon the whole tiny room was jam-packed with students trying to maneuver around each other, out the door or up to the front desk.
I toddled forward with the rest of the crowd, and Jake, Cassie, Rachel and I stepped out into the parking lot, and around the corner of the building.
"Well?" Rachel asked.
Jake shook his head. "Erek."
"Oh, boy," groaned Cassie.
He nodded. "The good news is that the Yeerks didn't have time to do anything with that Andalite technology. Visser Three was pretty mad when he found out about it."
Cassie winced. I knew she was imagining what the aftermath of his frustration undoubtedly looked like.
"The bad news," Jake continued, "is unrelated, so far as the Chee can tell. But it's not cool. The Yeerks are stepping up the infestation process, convincing, tricking, or forcing more people to become controllers more frequently."
"Great. I love Yeerk timing. Just when we're out of commission, they start a membership drive."
"Is this just more infestation in general, or do they have a particular method they're using?"
"What Rachel means is, is there any one thing we can physically blow up? Pretty please?" I ducked the lopsided punch she aimed at me.
Jake glanced at his watch. Already, break was practically over. "That's the tricky part. The Chee know that infestation has increased, but they aren't sure yet where the focal point is. All of a sudden, there are just more people at the Yeerk pool."
"Well, it is almost summer," I smirked. "Maybe people misunderstood those brochures for a lakeside vacation every three days that the Sharing has been handing out."
"What brochures?" barked Jake, before he realized I was joking.
"This is bad," smiled Cassie. "If Jake starts taking Marco literally, we're in trouble."
"Blame it on too much time around Ax," sighed Jake, and he turned to head back into the building.
"So, what are we going to do about this?" demanded Rachel before we opened the door.
"Identify a few of the controllers, and have Tobias watch them, to start," said Jake. "If we can find a common activity among these new recruits, we'll work from there."
"That's my boy," I beamed. "Comes up with a plan for saving the world while learning what the two yellow lines mean."
"Marco," sighed Rachel, as we headed up the stairs, "your jokes just get lamer and lamer."
"Wouldn't that be more and more lame?" suggested Cassie.
"It's because you refuse to date me," I sighed. "I'm pining away."
"Hurry up and pine quicker," she snorted. "The sooner you're gone . . . "
She entered the classroom with Cassie. A few seconds later, Jake stepped in. I dawdled, and then went through the door. Everyone was in their seats, and Mr. Mkonge gave me that, "You're late and that's not good," look teachers all know.
"Sorry," I said. "I got mugged." The class chuckled, and I dropped into my seat and napped with my eyes open for the next forty-five minutes.
Our teacher was a guy from someplace in Africa, named Mr. Mkonge. He was pretty cool, actually, although it was hard to get through his accent sometimes. The steering wheel was "tih styah-eeng hweel," and so forth. He had come to America ten years ago, had three daughters, and taught biology at a private school. Overall, he was a neat guy.
The class consisted of about thirty people. Half were strangers; the other half went to our school. As usual in any classroom, I picked a spot along the wall. It's easier to crack jokes from back there. Jake sat next to me, while Cassie and Rachel were across the room.
Mr. Mkonge explained that we would have forty-five minutes of class, then a five-minute break, then another forty-five minutes of lecture, and end with a five-minute test on what we had just learned. As he began to drone about adjusting mirrors and which pedals did what, I tuned out. Two solid hours of this for two solid weeks? One of the other kids had been complaining before class that his cousin's DE had only taken five days spread out in five weeks. Well, some people have all the luck, I guess.
Most of the material was boring. I didn't take notes, of course. If I needed them, I'd get them from Cassie later. Mostly, I was just listening and trying hard not to think about the "little complication," whatever it was. I was failing miserably. It was pretty much all I could think about. I noticed that Jake and Rachel were communicating in eyebrow language. I spoke that language too. The general message was that I wasn't going to get to hang out with the cheerleaders during the break.
"And now we are on break," announced Mr. Mkonge, in the same tone with which he had just been referring to gearshifts. I saw a twinkle in his eye. I think he was checking to see which students were really listening, and which were asleep. Cassie stood up first, since she had been tracking right along with him. Soon the whole tiny room was jam-packed with students trying to maneuver around each other, out the door or up to the front desk.
I toddled forward with the rest of the crowd, and Jake, Cassie, Rachel and I stepped out into the parking lot, and around the corner of the building.
"Well?" Rachel asked.
Jake shook his head. "Erek."
"Oh, boy," groaned Cassie.
He nodded. "The good news is that the Yeerks didn't have time to do anything with that Andalite technology. Visser Three was pretty mad when he found out about it."
Cassie winced. I knew she was imagining what the aftermath of his frustration undoubtedly looked like.
"The bad news," Jake continued, "is unrelated, so far as the Chee can tell. But it's not cool. The Yeerks are stepping up the infestation process, convincing, tricking, or forcing more people to become controllers more frequently."
"Great. I love Yeerk timing. Just when we're out of commission, they start a membership drive."
"Is this just more infestation in general, or do they have a particular method they're using?"
"What Rachel means is, is there any one thing we can physically blow up? Pretty please?" I ducked the lopsided punch she aimed at me.
Jake glanced at his watch. Already, break was practically over. "That's the tricky part. The Chee know that infestation has increased, but they aren't sure yet where the focal point is. All of a sudden, there are just more people at the Yeerk pool."
"Well, it is almost summer," I smirked. "Maybe people misunderstood those brochures for a lakeside vacation every three days that the Sharing has been handing out."
"What brochures?" barked Jake, before he realized I was joking.
"This is bad," smiled Cassie. "If Jake starts taking Marco literally, we're in trouble."
"Blame it on too much time around Ax," sighed Jake, and he turned to head back into the building.
"So, what are we going to do about this?" demanded Rachel before we opened the door.
"Identify a few of the controllers, and have Tobias watch them, to start," said Jake. "If we can find a common activity among these new recruits, we'll work from there."
"That's my boy," I beamed. "Comes up with a plan for saving the world while learning what the two yellow lines mean."
"Marco," sighed Rachel, as we headed up the stairs, "your jokes just get lamer and lamer."
"Wouldn't that be more and more lame?" suggested Cassie.
"It's because you refuse to date me," I sighed. "I'm pining away."
"Hurry up and pine quicker," she snorted. "The sooner you're gone . . . "
She entered the classroom with Cassie. A few seconds later, Jake stepped in. I dawdled, and then went through the door. Everyone was in their seats, and Mr. Mkonge gave me that, "You're late and that's not good," look teachers all know.
"Sorry," I said. "I got mugged." The class chuckled, and I dropped into my seat and napped with my eyes open for the next forty-five minutes.