Myne

seventeen

Gamble needed help. He knew the perfect people to turn to. He knew the exact words to get them excited. And he knew, beyond a shred of doubt, that if they were to work together, they would get to the bottom of it. They had never failed before. No reason they would now. 

He called his sister first. 

“Stay on the call,” he said when she answered. 

Then called the cousins. And joined the calls, so the four of them were on the same call. And then, he threw out the bait. 

“So, you interested in breaking a few rules?” 

*

Everyone at First Green, the oldest school in town, knew to fear the blazing three. The blazing three was made up of the sister and the twins. Greta Gimball was the sister. She was tall. Bleached blond. Loud. Always happy. And always ready to burst. “Just give me the slightest reason,” was her mantra. 

The twins were Albus and Alvin Moore. They were born a minute apart. Which they blamed for not looking anything at all like each other. They had exact bodies, even if their features were dissimilar. They were tall. Huge. They were athletic. Muscular. And handsome. They would have been heartthrobs, if only they weren’t batshit crazy. They were always smiling too. And waiting. For any excuse to erupt. 

They didn’t give themselves the name. They called themselves the sister and the twins. Looking at how eager they were to erupt into a fury, the other students, no one knew exactly who, came up with the title, the blazing three. 

And when they erupted, they didn’t get physical. They wouldn’t be half as scary if they did. No, instead, they would direct all their attention, all of their nefarious intellect, into turning the life of the target into a nightmare. And they were very, very good at it. So good, they were scary. 

Of course, it was also no secret that the blazing three were actually four. Greta’s little brother, Gamble, was always with his sister and the cousins. The difference being that Gamble was quiet, normal, and within the confines of rules. In short, he was good. What wasn’t nearly as well known, was that Gamble was actually much more dangerous. Because he knew how to push the buttons. And he offered no buttons of his own to be pushed. He was strange, in many ways. Unfortunately, this was something known only within the family, and to few even there. Thus, his popularity. 

And when he acted alone, he was the true nightmare. The only time he did, he was in high school. His sister and cousins had been punished. That wasn’t what ignited his fury though. They offered plenty of reasons to be punished. And they never challenged any punishment given. This time, however, they were punished for something they hadn’t done. Someone had broken into the principal’s office. Graffitied the walls. Vandalised the hundred year old desk. And left a colourful message. “Screw you, Mr Principal.” And had drawn the finger. The principal, a man in his fifties, a man who had been in the armed forces and had fought on the front lines, a man who was a proud alumni of the school, and a man who loved the desk dearly, was understandably furious. The blazing three had done something similar not very long ago. They had painted the PE teacher’s desk pink, in response to the man’s poor joke in class, mocking two boys for being too close. Not going into the details, the teachers were quick to lay the blame on the blazing three. And they were animated enough to convince the principal. Thus, the severe punishment for the blazing three. A black mark was entered into their records. And they were suspended for the rest of the week. It was Tuesday, which meant they would be missing four days of school. And they had to bring their parents along when they came to school. They would probably have to submit a written apology, at least five thousand words long. 

The three of them refused to accept the blame. They refused to the acknowledge the punishment. But their refusal and their protests amounted to nothing. They had to leave school right away. And that act alone seemed to convict them. 

No one rose in defence of the three. No one, except Gamble. And Gamble was quiet as always. That afternoon, he snuck out of class, without catching the teacher’s eye. Headed to the secret hideout, where the blazing three stored their supplies. Gathered a couple of cans of paint. And armed to the teeth, headed back into the building. First to the teachers’ office. They were all in classes. It was one of those rare times when the teachers’ office was empty. Just the fact that Gamble knew this spoke volumes. 

He painted the seats of all the chairs a bright red. And letters in the same red adorned the wall directly facing the doorway. The letters spelled out a short sentence. 

“Liars, Liars, pants on fires.” 

He then walked out the back door of the building, walked around to the side on which was the principal’s office, one story up. He took a balloon. Held its mouth against the nozzle of the other paint can, filled with yellow paint. And pressed the nozzle. Until the can was empty. And the balloon was full. He knotted the mouth shut. Rose to his feet. Took aim. And threw the balloon. It followed the perfect trajectory to the principal’s office’s half open window, flying in through the opening, and into the office. He didn’t wait, not even until he heard the splat. He jogged away at an even pace. Dumped the cans into the garbage bin in the grounds. And returned to class, acting like he had just been to the bathroom. He even had on a shy smile, that projected embarrassment, and answered doubts before they were voiced. He had to go to number two. 

At the end of the period, pandemonium broke out. His handiwork had its audience. The noise from the teachers attracted students, and soon everybody knew. The blazing three were innocent after all. After they had been sent home, there was another incident. This time, targeting the teachers, accusing them of lying. And the principal had been attacked again. 

The message was clear. The blazing three were innocent. It was the school’s turn now. 

*

“What rules?” Greta asked. 

Even grown up, Greta was the same. She was the purest angel, their parents said. And true enough, nothing could change her. She was married now. With two children. A boy and a girl. August and Aurora. Neither of them could compete with their mother when it came to naughtiness. 

“At the library,” Gamble answered. “Encountered a little mystery. Fully intend to answer it, solve it. Whichever is right. Could use help. What do you say?” 

“I’m in.” Greta had answered before he finished asking. 

“Me too,” the twins said in unison immediately after. 

“Good,” Gamble said, knowing that would be the answer. “I’ll see you at the library, after dinner.” 

“We’re breaking in?” Alvin asked. He was the one who had changed the most. He had gotten married straight out of college. Then, he and his wife joined the police academy at Hafford city. Graduated. And returned to Greenfield town, to join the town police. He was an officer. His wife, Darlene, was a detective. Not that there was a lot of detecting to do in Greenfield. It was a quiet town, in that sense. And the two of them were partners. As police, during the day. Loving husband and wife, through the night. He was the most averse to the idea of breaking in, even if it was the town library where there were only books, none of which were particularly valuable. 

“Oh yes,” Gamble said. “You can bring along Darlene. Leave the kids together.” 

Alvin and Darlene had a boy, Elmo. He was quiet, unlike his parents, and a lot smarter. Elmo also loved his noisy cousins, who were so much fun. 

“Is it going to be so big?” Albus asked. 

“Could be,” Gamble said. 

Knowing him, the blazing three knew it was most definitely going to be big. That got their blood gushing. Wasn’t everyday now that they had such excitement. 

“Meet at the library?” Greta asked. 

“Yeah,” Gamble answered. “I’ll be here. Overtime. I’m thinking burger for dinner.” 

“Okay,” Greta said. “See you there, eight-ish.”