The Final Exam (8 page)

As Lulu, Theo, Madeleine, and Garrison worked tirelessly, time appeared to move at an accelerated speed. Soon Abernathy knew the names of all 192 United Nations member states, the starting lineup for the Yankees, and how to maintain eye contact. But most impressively, Abernathy had accomplished all of this while dressed in pastel and plaid. However, absolutely no progress was made
where Mrs. Wellington was concerned. Abernathy still growled and snarled whenever she spoke to him.

After hearing of Schmidty’s unsuccessful hypnosis session with Mrs. Wellington, Garrison decided to take the lead where Abernathy was concerned. He simply couldn’t bear the idea of spending the rest of his life as a fraud, sending postcards from phony surfing holidays in Hawaii and Bali.

“You are falling into a deep trance,” Garrison said to Abernathy, who was lying nearly horizontal in the dentist chair in the Fearnasium. “Your eyelids are growing heavier by the second. Soon, you will have no choice but to close them.”

Lulled by Garrison’s commanding voice, Abernathy quickly closed his eyes. At this point the tanned boy stared at the man’s peaceful gray face and froze. Garrison simply hadn’t a clue what to do next. “Um, we are currently experiencing technical difficulties. Please be patient, and we will be with you shortly.”

“Technical difficulties?” Lulu surprised Garrison from behind. “This isn’t the cable company; you can’t just put him on hold.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t really think I was going to miss your first hypnosis session, did you?”

“It’s a disaster! What am I supposed to say?”

Lulu winked at Garrison before bluntly asking what everyone was dying to know: “Abernathy, why do you hate Mrs. Wellington?”

The man’s eyes fluttered rapidly beneath his eyelids, much as one might see in someone suffering a seizure.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that—what if it sends him into some sort of coma?”

“No way,” Garrison muttered quietly in response. “That’s ridiculous. You’re starting to sound like Theo.”

“I’ll deny saying this if you ever tell him, but sometimes Theo is actually right. What if this is one of those times? What if I have accidentally caused our one and only hope of saving the school to have a seizure?”

As the color drained from Garrison’s overly bronzed face, Abernathy slowly opened his chapped pink lips. Both Lulu and Garrison stared at him intently, frightened of what he’d do next.

“I had no choice; I promised her…”

“Promised who?” Lulu yelped excitedly—perhaps too excitedly, as it jolted the man.

“I need to go,” Abernathy declared, opening his eyes and sitting straight up. Seconds later, he darted out of the Fearnasium without so much as a wave or look in Lulu and Garrison’s direction.

“What do you think he meant when he said he had no choice?” Garrison repeated curiously to Lulu.

“I’m still wondering who
she
is…”

F
ailure is the most relentless of enemies, ravaging all who cross its path. And nowhere was this truer than with the School of Fearians. As their prospects of success dwindled, so did their confidence, inciting a marked regression in the students’ behavior. And, try as they might, they simply couldn’t resist sharing their rediscovered phobias with Abernathy.

“Spiders are essentially eight-legged criminals, dare I say terrorists, so if you see one, kill it. And that goes for
insects as well. When in doubt, stomp first, ask questions later,” Madeleine said politely while having afternoon tea with Abernathy in the classroom. “Another scone?”

“Madeleine,” Abernathy chirped as he placed a scone on his small rose plate, “I spent a lot of time with spiders and insects while living in the forest.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. We really ought to bathe you in boric acid, just in case any creepy crawlers slipped in with you,” Madeleine said as she pushed her chair away from Abernathy.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise no spiders or insects came in with me. I just wanted to tell you that they are actually pretty amazing creatures if you get to know them.”

“Blasphemy!” Madeleine responded with such high drama that she could easily have been mistaken for Theo. “Abernathy, I loathe pulling rank, but I am the teacher, and that means I am
always
correct! SPIDERS MUST DIE!”

While Madeleine was focused on spiders and insects, Lulu returned to her unilateral distrust of elevators.

“How do we really know the doors are going to open
again? The government claims to monitor elevators, but with the economy tanking, something is bound to fall through the cracks. And my money is on elevator maintenance.”

“But aren’t there phones in elevators?” Abernathy asked quietly.

“I can’t believe you even brought those up! They’re less reliable than Theo on a diet!” Lulu shrieked, most illogically offended by Abernathy’s comment.

Even Garrison, who was normally heralded for his cool façade, was starting to crumble in front of Abernathy.

“Surfing is all about being Zen, cool, and collected, and that’s totally me,” Garrison stated emphatically before his face started perspiring excessively. “My only problem with surfing is the water. Those currents will suck you out to sea and drown you slowly…”

Abernathy wondered why Garrison hadn’t created a new persona based around rock climbing or hang gliding so that he could easily avoid water. But the boy was utterly disinterested in being anything other than a surfer, albeit a fraudulent one. However disturbing Abernathy’s conversation with Garrison was, it paled in
comparison to Theo’s diatribe on danger. He literally listed seventeen ways to die within seventeen steps of the front door. After absorbing such macabre information, Abernathy was extraordinarily relieved to listen to Hyacinth sing—at least until he took note of the lyrics. The little girl had taken to singing about being alone and friendless after School of Fear closed.

With mere days left before Sylvie’s article was to run, even Schmidty worried that School of Fear would soon find itself shuttered, forever disgraced. Following hours of nervous cooking and cleaning, the old man pondered his precarious future while lugging garbage to the back of Summerstone. Alone in the dark recesses of the yard, he fretted not for himself or even for Mrs. Wellington, but for the many fearful children in the world. Where would they go? Who would help them? His eyes clouded with tears as he opened the garbage bin and prepared to toss in the sack he held. Then something pink caught Schmidty’s eye. Knowing of Mrs. Wellington’s strict moratorium on throwing away anything pink, he instantly deduced that the blob must be Sylvie Montgomery.

“What are you doing in my trash?” Schmidty angrily asked the rosy-skinned reporter.

“Looking for leads,” Sylvie said before snorting loudly, her nose aflame from all the secrets she sensed inside Schmidty.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the trash can, and the premises for that matter.”

“You’ll never be rid of me! I’m going to win the Snoopulitzer for this story! I can smell it already,” Sylvie announced excitedly, holding up an imaginary award in her left hand. In the disgraceful, dishonest, and highly disreputable field of tabloid journalism, there was no higher honor than winning the Snoopulitzer.

By the following daybreak, Schmidty was electrified with concern over the escalating security breaches. With few options remaining, a grounds patrol was enacted. And while Hyacinth volunteered, she was immediately disqualified due to her incontrovertibly loquacious nature. It was, after all, her big mouth that had started the entire Sylvie Montgomery mess. As for Madeleine, she wholeheartedly refused to take part because of spiders’ and insects’ well-known proclivity for living outside. And
Garrison begged off after seeing some gray storm clouds overhead, concerned that a flash flood was on its way. This left only Theo and Lulu for the inaugural patrol of Summerstone’s grounds.

“Must you eat like that?” Lulu asked as she watched Theo shove handfuls of dry cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of milk from the carton.

“We are on patrol; I need to be prepared to move at a second’s notice. I can’t be weighed down by a bowl and spoon. Honestly, Lulu, it’s like you’ve never been on a stakeout before.”

“This isn’t a stakeout; we’re basically mall cops.”

“Do you take Visa? Because this doesn’t look like the mall to me.”

“You have the worst comebacks I have ever heard, and I do mean
ever.
”

“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind Lulu and Theo, greatly surprising them. “I don’t suppose you could help me? My name is Melissa, and I’m looking for School of Fear. I hear it really helps with… fears.”

Standing before them, dressed in a blond wig braided into pigtails, a plaid school uniform, and thick glasses, was none other than Sylvie Montgomery. Try as she
might to disguise herself, her nose and pink skin tone were unmistakable.

“Um, hello? Of course it’s good with fears—that’s why it’s called School of
Fear,
” Theo said condescendingly, clearly unaware of Melissa’s true identity.