Extraordinary Losers 3

  CAPTIVE IN THE DARK

  JESSICA ALEJANDRO

  ILLUSTRATED BY LXY

  Contents

  Dedication

  Meet our extraordinary heroes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  To “Ho Peng Yew”

  My most inspiring companions

  CHAPTER 1: CAPTIVE IN THE DARK

  He-he-he-llo-llo? An-an-an-any-one there? No?” the boy asked, shivering. He was about to pee in fear. It was his first question after an hour of silence. He was sure it had been one hour, since he had counted every second since it happened.

  The boy had long eyelashes and deep-set eyes but these did not help him in any way here. He could not make out where he was. The smelly cloth around his eyes was wrapped so tightly that his curly hair got entangled in the painful dead knot at the back. It was pitch dark. And very dusty. He could tell from the way his shins were beginning to itch.

  Then he heard footsteps. Footsteps that shuffled across the dust-laden floor. But whose were they? He wished he had Darryl’s powerful ears! At least they would prove to be more helpful than a brain full of equations, numbers and nothing more. The footsteps grew louder and he heard the jangling of keys. It sounded as though someone was playing an instrument. Mi fa so. Mi fa so. Mi fa so. The keys sang with every step. Then a loud snort, and another. Sinus problem, he deduced.

  Should I speak again? he wondered. He was a painfully shy boy. A stutterer who hardly spoke to any teachers. He swallowed his voice in a huge gulp. Just then, the door creaked open. He jerked forward in his seat. But there was no way he could escape. How could he, when his hands and legs were tied up with prickly ropes.

  A voice grunted as someone slammed a cold metal plate on the boy’s lap. It felt heavy.

  The boy bent low enough so that he could smell the contents of his plate. It was the best smell he had experienced in the last few hours. It smelled so good that he bowed even lower and scooped a morsel with his mouth. He had not eaten anything since breakfast at 6 am and he was starving. It was a taste of home, except colder. Cold rice soaked in curry gravy swirled around in his mouth.

  “Th-th-th-th-thanks,” he spluttered. “Pl-Pl-Please.”

  Before he could finish his sentence, he heard the door slam shut. Then a loud snort. The footsteps and the jangling keys left as fast as they had arrived.

  “He-he-he-llo?” he asked again. He knew the snorts and the footsteps did not belong to a good person, but at least they belonged to someone! Now he was all alone again. Alone in the darkness made darker by his blindfold. He bowed low again to eat his cold curry rice. But the second mouthful didn’t taste so good. He could only taste fear in his mouth.

  “Darryl, Janice, Clandestino? Mummy? Wh-Wh-Wh-Where are you?” he whispered. “I-I-I have been kidnapped. No?”

  Earlier…

  It was a cold morning and my eyelids were still plastered together. All the other students bumped me from sideways and behind and some of their elephantine bags even bumped me on my face!

  “Ouch!” I went, opening my eyes to the 7:15 am sun. “Not another elephantine bag again!”

  The lower primary students always have school bags larger than they can handle! It’s like someone with a car licence driving a lorry instead and ending up crashing into the other cars. Seriously, to be hit in the face by a Power Rangers bag adorned with key chains and hazardous pin badges is no joke at all. After all, I am a Primary 5 boy and for my own sake, and the sake of others, my bag is light – much to my mother’s chagrin. All the other “unnecessary books” (and by this I mean all other books except homework) are stored safely under my desk in school.

  As I sleepwalked in my semi-conscious state, I noticed a curly-haired boy. Short and skinny and not moving with the herd of children stampeding into school. He was at the security guard post and something seemed to be keeping him.

  The other Brightstars continued to shove and push me forward, so much so that I didn’t really have to think. I was riding the “Brightstar drift” with Katy Perry blasting through my headphones, until I came to my curly-haired friend.

  “Hey, what are you doing, buddy?” I asked as I took out my headphones.

  “Huh?!” He was a little shocked to see me. “Nothing, Darryl. No?” He stuffed a small paper bag into his pocket.

  “Then, why are you standing here?”

  “No… I… I… I…” He looked to the school security guard, Uncle Andy, for help.

  “Nothing, boy,” Uncle Andy said, frowning, like I was a busybody. “Okay, Mundi, you better go off now!”

  “Okay!” Mundi clenched his pocket tightly and licked his lips in nervousness.

  “Take care, okay! You can start using it today!” Uncle Andy said as his eyes fixed sharply on Mundi like bright beetles.

  “Thanks! Bye, Uncle Andy!” Mundi waved and flashed his deep dimples. “Th-th-thanks!”

  “No problem!” Uncle Andy smiled, his gold tooth reflecting the morning sun. “Remember to…” He placed his index finger at his lips, gesturing “quiet”.

  Mundi nodded and quickly walked towards the canteen, avoiding me.

  “Thanks for…?” I said when I caught up with him.

  “Hey, Darryl! It’s nothing really. No?” Mundi shifted his spectacles into place.

  Mundi was a painfully shy boy. He almost never spoke to any adult. Not even his teachers. But since the start of the year, he had been having conversations with Uncle Andy. Uncle Andy had been working in our school for about eight years but no one really bothered about him. No one cared to greet him or say hi.

  However, one day during the haze period, Mundi saw how humid and hazy it was and offered Uncle Andy a can of Coke on his way out from school.

  “Why did you do that, Mundi?” Janice asked.

  “Well, it’s so hot, no? And… and… and Uncle Andy doesn’t have any air-conditioning in his office. No?”

  “You call that an office?” Clandestino laughed. “That’s a small little shed with a small little fan.”

  Just then, Janice took out a clear plastic bag from her school bag. There was only one coffee donut left. She stopped and thought for a while with her finger on her cheek. Then she pinched a little of the donut and popped it into her mouth.

  “Hmmm, still tastes good.” She licked her lips. “I shall share this with Uncle Andy too.” She acted as though she was testing to see if the donut was still edible, but we all knew that she couldn’t bear to part with it and just had to take a bite before giving it away.

  Mundi spoke up. “He must be so bored, directing traffic and collecting identity cards all day.”

  Janice strode back and proffered the one-twentieth-eaten donut to Uncle Andy. Uncle Andy was surprised. He looked at all of us, accepted it hesitatingly, smiled and waved back.

  Clandestino thought he had quite a cool job. “I wonder how much he is paid.”

  “He looks bored,” I said. “That’s why he is always blasting his favourite Chinese opera tunes on his little radio!”

  “Wo hui yong yuan ai ni,” Janice sang, mimicking an opera tune. I will always love you.

  “Earache, earache,” I said, covering my ears. If anyone knows about good music, it has to be me. With my superhuman ears, I can discern every tone and every pitch and tell good music from bad.

  Uncle Andy did look a bi
t lonely. Every morning, he would scan the sea of Brightstars marching into school. He probably knew our names, the colour of our bags, the times we arrived and who we hung out with. No one bothered to give him a second look, except maybe Mundi. We knew nothing about him, except that he was Uncle Andy, the guard who liked to unbutton his shirt and blast the neighbourhood with his music.

  But today, there was something different about Uncle Andy. What did he give Mundi and why was it a secret?

  CHAPTER 2: HIP HIP HOORAY!

  What do we do now?” I looked at Mundi, feeling utterly bored. I felt like Uncle Andy in his guard post.

  It was the school’s annual sports meet. Because we had our own little stadium, Sports Day was held in school and we didn’t have to travel. So, unlike other schools, we couldn’t take the whole day off. The day was planned such that lessons would still resume from 12 noon to 1:30 pm for the P5s and P6s, which was a complete waste of time, in my opinion!

  I really wanted to listen to my music but I couldn’t put on my headphones. Even Uncle Andy had it better. He could listen to his songs as and when he liked! Hot air was blowing from a tiny fan in the spectator stand and I felt like a pig getting roasted alive.

  Sports Day is lame. First, only five per cent of the school gets to participate. The sumo-like kids shine in the short putt event. The hyperactive kids show off in the hurdles and jumping events. And the runners are usually made up of the same old ones who do nothing other than run. Well, I guess every dog has its day, and this is their day to shine. The rest of us are made to sit, squint, clap, shout, sit again, scratch, fan ourselves and look as sporty as we can in our brightly-coloured house T-shirts.

  “Just sit and ch-ch-cheer, I guess. No?” Mundi scanned the sea of children who couldn’t keep still. Blue, red, yellow and green, they were settled into different houses.

  The four of us – Janice, Clandestino, Mundi and I – belonged to Red House. I was no athlete. Neither was Janice, and certainly not Mundi. The annual school sports meet was a spectacle of talents and only Clandestino could take part. Boring! I was itching to compose a new poem about Sports Day.

  After a string of unexciting events, Clandestino rose and skipped down the steps of the grey stadium. “Hey, my event is next,” he said as he winked.

  “All the best, man,” we said, offering our own little handshake.

  “Sure! I can definitely beat those guys. But of course, I will take my time. I don’t want to be toooooo obvious. So I’ll play it cool.” He winked again and shuffled down the steps. Whenever he winked, we knew we were about to witness magic.

  “Clan, your shoelaces!” I reminded him.

  Clandestino bent down, and in less than a second, tied his shoelaces into a dead knot. “Watch me soar.” He winked a third time!

  We were thrilled! Imagine watching Clandestino in all his glory! If you didn’t already know, Clandestino was fast. And by fast I don’t even mean speed-of-a-car fast. He was more like speed-of-sound fast. And for once, he could show off his talent. At the school sports meet!

  “Yay!” Mundi clapped, then wrung his shorts in anticipation. “Go show them, Clan! No?”

  Out of the blue, a strong arm brushed past me. There was a tattoo on the arm with the initials CH. What did it stand for? It was a familiar brush. A hostile and purposeful one.

  I looked up to a hideous face. Adam looked down at me, his facial muscles contorting. Who else in the world had bulging muscles on his face?

  Adam had been involved in the great Vandal Scandal not long ago. The four of us had almost exposed him, and now, he had revenge written all over his face.

  Behind him were Leonard and Justin. The three of them were the Basketball Pros, the cool guys, the ring leaders and the trendsetters in school. Next to them, we looked like a bunch of losers.

  “Not so fast, losers. You forget that he will be running against me,” Adam said, lifting his chin. “Mundi, just because you won the National Math Olympiad competition does not mean you’re cool! Only NERDS like you win.”

  “Yeah, those with no life. Just like Clandestino out there,” Justin parroted.

  Mundi’s tongue licked his lips nervously. “But he w-wi-wil-will…”

  “Wi-wi-wi-will WHAT?” Adam challenged him.

  “Wi-wi-wil-will LOSE!” they yelled. Droplets of saliva rained down on us.

  “LOSERS!” they said, before sauntering down the steps.

  Mundi whipped out his handkerchief and wiped his face vigorously. “Eeewww… do you know that there’s about one million bacteria in just one millilitre of saliva? Yuck!”

  “Don’t worry, Mundi,” I assured him. “Clan will show them. Wait, where’s Janice? I haven’t seen her all day!”

  I looked around, sipping my cold Milo. It was a real treat! A Milo van had parked itself near the canteen and we could all help ourselves to a free cup of ice-cold Milo!

  Mundi and I squinted and stared until I saw in the distance something glittering. It was waving at us.

  “Do you see what I see, Mundi?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Y-Y-Yeah.” He hesitated. “Is that J-J-Janice waving at us? And is she holding a pom pom?”

  “A cheerleader?” I was stumped. Since when was Janice a cheerleader? Cheerleaders are popular, aren’t usually overweight and are light enough to stand on top of one another! Janice was all but cheerleader material. She was huge, always seen snacking on a donut and certainly very unpopular.

  “Hey, guys, I am here!” Janice yelled, waving her pom pom excitedly. Because my sense of hearing was perfect, I could hear her clearly amidst the shrieks and cries of a thousand Brightstars.

  “It is really her!” Mundi finally deduced, shifting his spectacles so that his long eyelashes weren’t in the way. His eyes lit up when he saw Janice. “Let’s wave!”

  Janice suddenly spun around. Someone else seemed to have caught her attention. Mundi waved frantically, still exhilarated at the thought that Janice was his house’s cheerleader. I wasn’t sure I was too thrilled about it.

  “Who is she looking at, no?” he asked.

  “Clandestino, you goon!” I laughed.

  “Of course, of course.” Mundi smiled. Clandestino had waltzed up to Janice and he was whispering something in her ear. I was too far away to make out the whisper, but I could hear the words “cheer… me”.

  Mr Grosse, our form teacher and the Sports Day emcee, prepared us for the final event. “The next race is the 200-metre dash. All participants, please take your stations on the track! So far, Blue House is leading by two points. Red House is behind them. Red House needs to win this race to be the overall winner,” he announced.

  Clandestino strode to the track. Adam was already there. He wore his Blue House T-shirt with pride. His mom had altered it so that it accentuated all the bulging muscles he had. It fitted him so tightly it looked like a wet suit.

  In contrast, Clandestino’s Red House T-shirt hung on his skinny body like a shirt on a hanger. The green and yellow houses were too far down in points to be in competition.

  It was THE moment. The two houses – Red vs Blue. All the 250 children in red T-shirts had their eyes on Clandestino.

  “Whaaaaaaat? It is the last race, and that loser guy is representing us?” I heard a P4 boy moan.

  Another one chimed in, “There goes our trophy.”

  Nobody was expecting Clandestino to win. It was HIM, after all. And bad things happened to him. But we knew better. On the outside, we were losers, but on the inside, we were different. Different in an extraordinary way! Clandestino, Mundi, Janice and I. With our powers combined, we were unstoppable. The four of us had already solved two cases of crime in school. But of course no one knew of our powers, for if they knew, we would never be able to lead a normal life.

  “Hey, hey,” I said. “He’s gonna do MORE than win.”

  They all turned to me with looks of disbelief on their faces. “Seriously?!”

  Clandestino made his way to the starting position. Ada
m was two tracks away from him. He wore his stiff hair like an army boy, and there was a smirk on his face when he turned to the sea of Brightstars and raised his arms in triumph. Blue House went wild with excitement. In contrast, Clandestino was stretching his legs awkwardly, like a frog dancing to the jungle beat.

  “Oh no, oh no, what is he doing?” Mundi started blinking awkwardly at the floor. He felt embarrassed for Clandestino. Adam was stretching too, but in a way that was making the girls swoon.

  Then, just when the match was about to start, Leonard hopped onto the track. He was waving a piece of cloth in his hand!

  “Now?!” I moaned. “I can’t believe this!”

  I strained my ears to listen closely. He walked calmly and steadily towards Clandestino. It seemed odd that Leonard was taking his time when the whole school was waiting for him. He kept his right arm straight like he was marching while his left hand continued to wave the piece of cloth. I smelled a rat.

  “Hey, Clan, you forgot this!”

  “Huh?! My number 605!” Clandestino said in surprise.

  It was Clandestino’s race number! And true enough, he did not have it tagged to his house T-shirt.

  Clandestino grabbed the number tag. “Why are you so nice to me all of a sudden?”

  “No reason, just looking out for all the contestants in the race.” Leonard had a smug look on his face. Very bizarre.

  “Thanks.” Clandestino grabbed the number tag, pinned it on his shirt and got into position again. Leonard ran off quickly and disappeared from our view.

  I was definitely on edge. Every part of me was anxious for Clandestino; even my toes were twitching. “Come on, we need this! We need this badly!” I prayed.

  Mundi’s eyes glistened with hope. He turned to me and flashed his deep dimples. We knew we would see magic soon. Images of victory and our friends hailing Clandestino – and by extension us (since we were inseparable) – came to my mind. Would they throw us up in the air? Would our house stand up and applaud us and would we finally have the title LOSERS taken away from us?

  Mundi was fiddling with something on his hand. It looked like a peculiar watch.