The next day (I won't even describe my waking hours, they were frightening), in the cafeteria, Quigley was still telling the story about Klaus and the gothic nurse.
Having heard it in my sleep (I'm not exaggerating), I tuned it out and stared at the raw splint on her arm. "So, when do you get a cast?" I asked.
She turned to me. "At lunch Mr. Poe will pick me up, drive me to a doctor, and get this frickin' splint off, and finally get a cast. I don't look exactly forward to it, but at least it won't itch as bad as the splint."
"How do you know it won't itch?" I said. She opened her mouth to talk, but Sunny said, "Shenos!"
Violet translated it to, "She would know, she always had injuries from a lot of her crazy experiments."
"Like the time she tried to make rocket fuel to blow herself to the moon," Klaus started. Violet elbowed him with her other arm, and Quigley laughed like he was part of their family, as if he knew the rest of the story.
Klaus continued, "So she put a container under her shoes while she was standing in the backyard, and lit a fire near the container, and the fire combined with the flammable liquid, and burned the bottoms clear off her shoes!"
We all laughed.
"And Mom and Dad yelled at her for not only wrecking sixty dollar shoes, but also for setting the entire yard on fire!"
Quigley's milk squirted out of his nose, and we all groaned.
As I went to return my tray, Carmelita was selling cocaine. "Hey, that's illegal!" I yelled. A teacher hurried over, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to the office.
I heard all VP Nero said was, "Look at the school rules poster-As long as a student does not hurt another student or teacher, their possessions or actions are vulnerable."
I also heard the teacher punched Carmelita out, and called the police on Carmelita.
Violet said we should all go visit her, though she was our enemy, she deserved visitation. "Selling drugs is illegal without proper authorization (and is wrong, anyway at all) and her operation was completely unsanitary!" I cried.
We were forced to go. The Elmwood City Jail is not a haven, believe me. The officers smoked, talked on the phones, or gave anyone who walked through the sliding doors (who the heck would have sliding doors for a police department?) evil looks.
"We're looking for the cell of Carmelita Jacqueline Spats," Violet told an officer. He shook his head. "Sorry kid, but visiting hours are twelve am through twelve o' one am. In other words, NO VISITING!"
"You bastard, let us in!" Quigley cried.
"Sorry weasel, but I just said what I said. Now beat it." Then he pulled out a baton and flicked it at Quigley. I grabbed the officer's legs and tugged with all my might till he came down with a crash.
We dashed over the gate-rope thingamabob and ran into the prison rooms.