Darius Bell and the Crystal Bees by Odo Hirsch Page B

‘That’s right! He claimed there’ll be no fruit, not just for us, but for the Fishers as well. Can you imagine that? No fruit for the Fishers? I’d like to see that! I’d like to see Fisher not produce a fruit. There’s no farmer in the world who produces fruit like Fisher.’
    Micheline looked at him quizzically. ‘I wonder where Darius got that idea.’
    â€˜If it was true, Micheline, don’t you think we’d have already heard from Mr Fisher? If Fisher comes and tells me, then I might believe it.’
    Darius’s mother frowned. Maybe, she thought, she should go and find Darius. Or Mr Fisher. She considered it. But she would make a fool of herself if she went off to Mr Fisher to check if there was going to be any fruit when he had never failed to produce fruits before. In fact, if Mr Fisher took it the wrong way, he might feel insulted. And surely if something so horrendous was about to happen, Mr Fisher would have come and said something. Hector was right about that.
    â€˜It’s impossible,’ said Hector. ‘Whatever it is, Darius misunderstood or got it out of proportion or . . .’ He smiled. ‘I know! He was playing some kind of prank. Playing some kind of prank on his old papa. Cyrus probably put him up to it. Wanted to see if I’d jump up and run off to Fisher. Well, I’m not going to do that.’
    Micheline smiled slightly. Hector was taking it a little too far. The idea of making her husband jump up and run off anywhere would have been rather far-fetched, even for Darius and Cyrus.
    â€˜What a clever boy,’ said Hector. ‘Knew how to do it, too. Bamboozled me with science! Honestly. Totally bamboozled me.’ Hector paused. ‘That would make quite a good story, wouldn’t it? What do you think, Micheline? A child who was so clever he could bam- boozle his father just by opening his mouth.’

On Monday, Mrs Lightman’s tune hadn’t changed.
    â€˜Where are the clothes?’ she demanded, once the children had all lined up in the gymnasium. ‘Thirty-two costumes, Darius Bell. That was the deal.’
    That was the deal you made, thought Darius.
    â€˜Everyone’s expecting you to do what you promised. You know what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me, Darius. The consequences will be extreme.’
    Darius looked around. He met with expectant gazes all around the gymnasium. No one had brought anything for themselves. They all obviously believed he was going to turn up with armfuls of clothes from the supposedly bulging wardrobes of Bell House.
    Stephen Pintel stared at him, his eyes narrowed. Evelina Williams watched him with her arms folded.
    â€˜As you know,’ said Mrs Lightman, ‘I’m going to be away for the next few days.’
    Darius did know. So did the rest of the school. Every- one was looking forward to it, most of all the teachers.
    â€˜When I get back, I want those clothes, Darius Bell. Do you understand me? No excuses. Find them. You will do what I say. Disobedience is not an option.’
    There was silence in the gymnasium. Everyone watched, even the most fidgety kids.
    â€˜Now, we’ll practise marching. For the Mayor’s Prize we’re going to have to march in our costumes. We’re going to do it neatly and in time. That means we’re going to practise. Everyone except Darius. Darius, because he’s been so helpful , can go and sit over there and think about the costumes he’s going to bring us.’
    Darius rolled his eyes and went and sat at the edge of the gymnasium. For the next half hour he watched as the class marched up and down the gymnasium, out of step, bunching, stretching, some people stopping unexpectedly and others banging into them. Paul Klasky yelled at someone who kicked him in the ankle. Stephen Pintel yelled at him for yelling. Mrs Lightman yelled in exasperation. It was quite amusing.
    Afterwards, one by one,