Half Moon Investigations - Eoin Colfer [51]
‘Greetings, sisters,’ she said. Her voice sounded different. It was thin but fierce.
‘Greetings, Mademoiselle Présidente,’ responded her girls, every one in pink PJs.
Mademoiselle Présidente? These girls were taking their little club a bit seriously, weren’t they?
‘Why have we gathered today, sisters?’
‘To solve the problem of the ages, Mademoiselle Présidente,’ intoned the girls. Their tone was muted, but their eyes were bright and excited.
‘And what is the problem of the ages?’
It was a one-word answer. ‘Boys!’
April Devereux punched the air with tiny clenched fists.
‘Yes. Boys. For too long boys and grown-up boys have ruled this earth and made a mess of politics and ozone and stuff. For too long us girls have been not listened to by males, even our dads and brothers and people who should know better. How do we change this, sisters?’
‘By ruling the world,’ chanted Les Jeunes Étudiantes.
‘Exactly. Correct. You are spot on, my sisters, so smart. We will be prime ministers and managing directors and partners in law firms and owners of music shops that ban heavy metal and stuff with skulls. But for now, what are we?’
‘Students.’
‘Correct. We are Les Jeunes Étudiantes. The Young Students. And this is how we must change the world. From our desks. From the classroom. What is our duty?’
The answer came promptly. ‘To learn.’
‘And what is our goal?’
‘Knowledge.’
Red elbowed me in the ribs. ‘This girl is a nutcase, but she’s hardly a giant.’
I hissed at him to be quiet, from the side of my mouth. There was something unique and sinister going on here and I didn’t want to miss a second of it. There was far more to April Devereux and Les Jeunes Étudiantes than they revealed to the world in general. April’s little speech didn’t sound very pink.
‘The only way to power is through knowing stuff,’ continued the high priestess of weird. ‘But the old enemy stands in our way.’
The other girls actually hissed.
‘Boys, again. Horrible, smelly, big-mouth boys.’
More hissing from the floor. Red and I were starting to feel unwelcome, though no one knew we were there.
‘Ever since kindergarten, boys have been grabbing all the attention with their shouting and fighting and letting off rudies. How are we supposed to learn with all this going on?’
The sisters clapped and squealed their agreement.
‘Aaron. Picking his nose all day. I don’t know where he puts that stuff but it’s not in his handkerchief.’
Much groaning and wincing in the audience, and outside the window too.
‘And Gerry, with his insects. How many of us have found something disgusting in our Petits Filous thanks to Gerry?’
Several hands went up. Apparently Gerry had been a busy boy.
‘And I hardly need remind you of Raymond.’
‘RAAAYMOND!’ They howled his name like a dirge.
‘That boy is thicker than a milkshake,’ lamented April. ‘All day wasting teacher’s valuable time with his dopey questions. What colour is a smell? Which way is up when you’re asleep? Does a basketball live in a basket?’
There were cries of ‘Moron’.
And one unexpected: ‘I like Raymond. He does nice pictures.’
April groaned. ‘May, I know you don’t bother coming to most of the meetings because of your precious dancing classes, but now that you’re here, try to keep up. You don’t like Raymond. Remember? I told you. He’s nasty and horrible. Remember how he smells after curry day?’
May giggled. ‘That’s just being a boy.’
There’s always one, missing the point. ‘Being a boy is bad, May. We don’t have to put up with boy stuff. We need to take charge. Be the bosses like we should be.’
May nodded, but you could see she was doing it to be in the gang.
‘So you hate boys?’ April prompted.
‘Yep. Well, sometimes.’
‘May?’
‘Hate ‘em. Hate ‘em. Can’t stand ‘em.’
‘Better.’ April clasped her hands. ‘Now, girls, I mean, sisters…’
‘You’re my cousin, April, not my sister,’ said May.
‘May!’ screeched April, pointing a stiff finger. ‘Shut up! You’re ruining the meeting. We’re not real sisters. Just