School of Fear (14 page)

Minutes later the messily dressed foursome sat at the dining room table, listening to the crows caw eight times. With their
palms awkwardly cupped over their mouths, the students attempted to smell their own breath. Unfortunately, it’s nearly impossible
to experience one’s own breath.

Unsure what their second day held, a mild pulsation formed in Lulu’s left eye, the start of the twitch. She rubbed her eyes
harshly, so intensely that when she opened them, spots of light interrupted her vision. Lulu turned her head toward the window
and gasped. A man. An outrageously ugly man was peering through the window. Before Lulu was able to formulate words, a spot
of light bounced across her vision, obstructing the man’s face.

Unnerved by the situation, Lulu closed her eyes and counted to ten. As she neared the number ten in her mind, she became nervous
of either outcome. If he was still there, sheer panic would ensue. Yet if he wasn’t, that meant she had imagined him, which
was equally terrifying. She slowly opened her eyes, immediately noticing a potted plant in the exact place she had seen the
mangled face. Could she have mistaken the potted plant for a man’s misshaped face?

“I-I saw … ,” Lulu stammered before realizing how crazy she would sound. “I, um, was wondering if someone would smell my breath?”

“No way,” Garrison responded.

“If absolutely necessary, yes, but I would rather not,” Madeleine diplomatically responded.

“Lean in, lady, I’ll take a sniff,” Theo offered warmly.

“Never mind,” Lulu said while staring at Theo’s face.

She didn’t actually want anyone to smell her breath; it was merely the first question that came to her mind.

“What? I’m not good enough to smell your breath?”

Lulu smirked at Theo as he mouthed the word “mean” back to her.

“I see you’ve been informed of the morning breath tests,” Mrs. Wellington said from the hallway, sporting a seersucker sleeveless
dress with a petticoat and a matching pillbox hat.

Mrs. Wellington lapped the table once before leaning over Garrison. “Open wide,” Mrs. Wellington said calmly.

Garrison leaned his head back and opened his mouth. He didn’t blow air in Mrs. Wellington’s face; he simply allowed the woman
to smell the general area. Sweat formed on his brow as he worried that he hadn’t pushed the toothbrush back far enough on
his tongue. It was a delicate job, as too much force could lead to vomit, which never helps one’s breath.

Mrs. Wellington pulled her head away from Garrison and slowly inhaled through her nose. Time seemed to stand still as she
pondered his breath much as a scientist would lab results. Finally, the old woman nodded. She then adjusted her small seersucker
hat and proceeded on to Madeleine. Although the smell of her breath could easily make it through the veil, Madeleine lifted
it over her mouth. Mrs. Wellington quickly nodded and proceeded to check Lulu and Theo. Both students received the nod of
approval, much to their relief.

“Very good, contestants. Not only is a beauty queen always prepared, she also doesn’t converse with foul-breathed people,”
Mrs. Wellington said as Schmidty and Macaroni entered with a platter of scrambled eggs, muffins, and orange juice. “Open wide,
old man.”

“Madame, I am not a student of this institution. I hardly think I am subject to such inspections.”

“You may not be a contestant, but I am a beauty queen. And what do I always say?”

“Never ask a beauty queen her age?”

“No,” Mrs. Wellington responded curtly.

“Always pack an extra wig?”

“No.”

“Match your eye shadow to your clothes?”

“Listen here, old man, you know very well that I
always
say that a beauty queen doesn’t converse with foul-breathed people.”

“If you say so, Madame.”

“Good, now open wide.”

“Very well, Madame. But I think you should know that I have already ordered the epitaph for your tombstone: ‘As unfailingly
stylish as she was mad.’ ”

“Dear man, are you already planning my funeral?”

“Since the day we met.”

“I’ve always admired your foresight.”

Schmidty, seated at the table, used one hand to hold his comb-over in place while leaning back.

“Remember, bad breath is a sign that bacteria is still present, and trust me, bacteria is no present.”

With a saccharine smile, Mrs. Wellington sniffed the inside of Schmidty’s mouth and nodded.

“See how much you’ve already learned!” Mrs. Wellington said.

“What? To brush our teeth?” Lulu asked sarcastically.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but I think I should call my family to check in. A lot of terrible, horrible, dreadful, awful things
could have transpired. So can I use the phone?”

Garrison suddenly began to perspire with worry over his white lie the night before. It was completely logical to assume the
mansion had phones, so why was his heart racing?

“Of course, Chubby. You may make as many imaginary calls as you like,” Mrs. Wellington said with a smile. “I know how much
contestants love to chat.”

Garrison breathed a sigh of relief, before realizing Mrs. Wellington had said
imaginary
calls.

“What do you mean by
imaginary
calls?” Garrison asked with mounting perspiration.

“There are no telephone lines on the mountain, so all calls must be kept imaginary.”

“But there are phones in the house?” Garrison spat out nervously.

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Wellington responded.

“Why do you have phones,” Theo asked, “if there are no phone lines?”

“I enjoy the appearance of a phone,” Mrs. Wellington said. “Plus occasionally I like to call myself and check in, see how
I’m doing emotionally.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Garrison said while staring at the unusual old woman.

“Do you have a computer or PDA device? You know, a BlackBerry? Sidekick? Something?” Theo asked desperately.

“Absolutely not! No TVs, computers, or phones! The only modern allowances are running water and electricity, and we only have
those because the former allows me to wash my wig and the latter to dry it.

“Now, then,” Mrs. Wellington said while completely ignoring the children’s glum expressions, “While you are here, I would
prefer to keep you occupied and myself entertained by spending as much of our time as possible inside the Fearnasium. That
is why we’re here, isn’t it, contestants?”

A
fter breakfast, the foursome made a quick stop at the Fearnasium for yet another imaginary exercise, before heading toward
the classroom. Madeleine was a bit green again, for despite every intention not to, she had imagined large lifelike spiders
all over her arm. Emotionally exhausted, she wished desperately for a pleasant distraction.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Wellington. Yesterday I believe you referred to a library. While I can’t speak for the others, I would very
much enjoy the company of a book.”

“Oh yes, the library. No school is complete without a library. It’s rather conveniently located next to the classroom,” Mrs.
Wellington said while pointing to a triangle-shaped door.

A shiny copper bell decorated the northernmost tip of the brown triangular door. Due to the small stature of the door, Mrs.
Wellington was forced to hunch over and hold her wig as she entered.

While libraries certainly weren’t out of the ordinary in mansions as grand as Summerstone, this particular
type
of library was rather unusual. Instead of books neatly placed on the shelves, there were glass jars. Every shelf but one
was jammed full of jars. The most potent of all the library’s contents sat alone on a bronze-plated shelf near the ceiling.

Inside the various jars were lumps, bumps, and humps of various colors from pink to black, although most resembled the color
of an unripe banana, a yellowish green.

“What did you do with the books?” Theo implored after scanning the walls.

“Books? This is the Library of Smelly Foods.”

“Of what?” Lulu asked with disgust.

“Impressive, isn’t it? We have an entire wall dedicated to cheese alone. Then there’s clams, gefilte fish, rotten eggs, boiled
cabbage, kimchi, sardines, durian fruit, plus all the items that have grown smelly with mold and time. You won’t believe how
much a tuna sandwich from the bicentennial reeks.”

“What’s the bicentennial?” Garrison asked.

“It was the two-hundred-year anniversary of the founding of your country,” Madeleine said dreamily to Garrison. “It occurred
in 1976.”

“Honestly, Garrison, she’s not even American and
she
knows that,” Lulu said condescendingly.

“Oh, like you knew what it was?” Garrison rebuked.

“Guys, just admit that Madeleine is smarter than both of you and move on,” Theo said earnestly.

“Smarter than
us
? I hope you aren’t insinuating that
you
are smarter than
we
are, Friar Tuck,” Lulu said cattily.

“Yeah,” Garrison chimed in uselessly. “Wait, who is Friar Tuck?”

“He’s Robin Hood’s fat, I mean
plump,
friend,” Madeleine explained.

“See, she is smarter than you guys,” Theo bellowed victoriously.

“No, she’s smarter than Garrison,” Lulu explained, “not me.”

Madeleine sighed loudly before crossing her arms angrily.

“I could wipe the floor with all of you in any sport,” Garrison said defensively.

“There should be no wiping or even touching of the floors — they are filled with bacteria,” Theo interjected.

“Shut up!” Lulu and Garrison raged in unison.

“There’s no need to yell at him,” Madeleine said calmly.

“Thank you. Finally, someone who understands me,” Theo said theatrically.

Lulu sighed with irritation while rolling her eyes.

“You know the eye muscles are like any other muscle; they get bigger when you exercise them,” Theo said.

“Because you know so much about exercise,” Lulu said rudely.

“Don’t blame me if your eyes bulge out of your head!”

“Theo, enough,” Madeleine said while spraying repellent.

“Fine, but I’ll have you know that stuff isn’t just toxic for the bugs.”

“Regret defending him yet?” Lulu asked Madeleine.

Mrs. Wellington remained utterly oblivious on the other side of the library. She was far too enraptured by the various jars
to listen to the sparring children. From the tip of her nose, she inspected the finely typed label on the top of each jar.
After squinting heavily, Mrs. Wellington relented and put on her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Gather round,” Mrs. Wellington said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Lulu, Garrison, Madeleine, and Theo inched
closer to Mrs. Wellington to inspect the strange brown substance in the jar. Lulu stood perfectly still as her left eye pulsated
and bulged with stress. Irrationally, Lulu empathized with the foreign substance, imagining herself in miniature, confined
to the jar.

Mrs. Wellington tried to twist off the top. She turned and turned but nothing happened. Her face contorted and her knuckles
flashed white as she battled to open the jar.

“This … is … a … tricky fellow … ,” Mrs. Wellington uttered between breaths. “It’s … all … the … gases … that … form … over
… time.”

“I hope the gas isn’t flammable,” Theo said.

“Does anyone have a match?” Lulu offered snidely while staring down Theo.

“Al … most … there … ,” Mrs. Wellington huffed.

“Fire safety is nothing to laugh about,
Lulu
,” Theo ranted.

“Loo means toilet in England,” Madeleine offered absentmindedly.

“That is
not
true,” Lulu yelled at Madeleine, instantly flustering the girl behind the veil.

“I am going to call you Toilet Toilet!” Theo bellowed with laughter.

“Don’t you dare, chubs!”

Lulu pushed up her sleeves, prepared to slap Theo if he said one more thing. Madeleine lowered her head in regret, wondering
why she had chosen that moment to share such information. And Garrison wondered if he should offer to help the old woman with
the jar.

“Got it!” Mrs. Wellington screamed as the top popped off.

The wretched odor exploded into the room, destroying the olfactory senses of all the students. Their eyes crossed, their knees
weakened, and their throats constricted. It was the single most offensive aroma they had ever experienced; a ghastly combination
of feet, cow manure, vomit, and babies’ diapers.

Mrs. Wellington appeared oblivious to the smell, while Theo dry-heaved loudly. Across Madeleine’s left and right feet were
the bodies of two cats who had literally fainted from the stench. Lulu’s left eye pulsated harshly as she moved toward the
door. Garrison pulled his shirt over his mouth and followed Lulu to the Great Hall.

Once in the hallway, the foursome tried to flush their nasal cavities with clean air. Theo dry-heaved again, placing his face
between his knees. Madeleine stood over him, spraying herself, worried that the smell might have carried invisible organisms
or spores that could burrow in her skin.