Invisible Inkling

All Tomato Sauce and Anger

Ms. Cherry bends over, yelling. She clutches her hair, which is rapidly unwinding, as if by magic. Her lunch tray skids across the table, spraying cranberry juice everywhere. She falls to the floor, yowling and thrashing as if some invisible—

Oh.

It’s Inkling.

He is here, after all!

Despite what I did to him, he didn’t leave me to face Gillicut alone.

Only: He has dropped on the wrong person. He dropped on Ms. Cherry!

The items on the tabletop skid to the ground as Inkling launches himself at Gillicut’s pizza. He must grab the crust in his mouth because the slice lifts into the air, waving violently so that the triangle part

flaps.

Whomp! It hits Gillicut hard across the face, smearing him with cheese and pepperoni.

And whomp! Back the other way with the crust side.

Gillicut is all over tomato sauce and anger. He tackles me and rolls me on the floor. I can see Ms. Cherry flailing, trying to pull herself to standing, high heels slipping on a puddle of cranberry juice. Gillicut and I land several feet from her, rolling onto the plastic carton of blueberry yogurt from my lunch. I can feel it burst under my head. Gillicut’s hot face is right in mine. He’s crushing me, and I can barely breathe. The yogurt is all in my hair. Chin yanks at Gillicut’s shirt, trying to get him off me, but he bats her away.

Where is Inkling?

Why isn’t he helping?

Oh, wait—I bet he stopped to eat Gillicut’s pizza.

Yep.

Inkling is filling himself with cheesy goodness while Gillicut is rampaging on me! I kick and flail.

“Do you want me to teach you a lesson?” Gillicut asks.

“What a stupid question,” I squeak. “Like you could teach me anything.”

“I told you I’d make you pay.”

I don’t answer, twisting my body to try to get out from under.

Gillicut’s fingers pinch my neck and twist, hard—

Oh.

Ms. Cherry is standing over us.

Gillicut drops his hand.

“Boys!” says Ms. Cherry, sharply. “Are you two fighting?”

“Yes!” cries Chin. “They are!”

“No, we’re not!” Gillicut stands up, releasing me. “It was all a big accident. A misunderstanding. I’m so sorry I fell over on you, Hank!”

He eyes Ms. Cherry but talks to me. I am lying on the floor in shock, cranberry juice and yogurt in my hair, sore in several places.

“Let me help you get some napkins,” says Gillicut, fake and hearty. “You have yogurt on your hair, and I think I have pizza on my face. Ha ha! I have pizza on my face, don’t I?” He laughs. Actually laughs, while smiling at Ms. Cherry.

I am staring at Gillicut’s thick calves beneath his shorts. His bony ankles going into sneakers without socks.

His ankles.

Horrible, mean, bully ankles.

I want to bite him.

I really do.

Want to lunge my head forward and bite Gillicut’s ankle as hard as I can, waggling my head around to make it hurt more, the way Inkling told me.

But just like the other day in the park—I want to do it, but my teeth are too scared.

“Ahhhhhh!” Gillicut goes down, anyway, hitting the floor with a thud and flailing his legs around, kicking in pain.

Inkling!

He’s not too scared to bite. I can see his teeth marks in Gillicut’s ankle—

“Ahhhhhh!” He’s throwing his legs around to get Inkling off him.

I start to sit up but, ow! Gillicut kicks me in the head and I go down again. Gillicut and Inkling and I are all tangled up now. There’s fur in my face and a foot against my shoulder—

“Hank! This is deeply inappropriate!”

Miss Cherry looms.

Reaches down.

Grabs.

Seconds later, I am standing. She has me firmly by the shoulder.

Gillicut is on the floor.

I’m dizzy. My head aches where he kicked me.

I’m not even sure what happened. I have no idea where Inkling is.

“We don’t bite our friends, Hank!” Ms. Cherry scolds.

What?

Before I know it, she’s marched me out of the lunchroom and we’re heading down the hall to the principal’s office while a student “buddy” takes Gillicut to the nurse.

“I didn’t bite anyone,” I say.

“Oh? How did Bruno get bitten, then?” Ms. Cherry says sarcastically. “Some invisible creature bit him?”

I know I can’t explain Inkling to Ms. Cherry. But it doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t wait for an answer.

“I want you to remember our motto,” she goes on. “Strangers are friends you haven’t gotten to know yet.”

“Gillicut isn’t a stranger or a friend,” I say. “He’s my enemy. I told you what he does to me.”

“You don’t have enemies,” Ms. Cherry snaps. “You have friends and future friends. That’s what you have.” Her blouse is stained, and her complicated hairdo is back up but lopsided.

I don’t reply.

As I sit in the front office, waiting for the principal, I feel Inkling’s warm body press against my leg. He’s wheezing slightly, as if he’s been running to catch up with me.

I reach down and pick him up as soon as Ms. Cherry departs to teach class.

“You fluffed up your fur real well,” Inkling whispers, his mouth near my ear. “I bet that Gillicut was scared stupid.”

Huh?

I reach up to feel my hair.

It’s standing on end because of the yogurt.

“Thanks,” I say. I kick my feet against the bench. “And thanks for saving my life today.”

“Bandapat code of honor,” Inkling says. “Glad to do it.”