“Help! Help!” Theo groaned hoarsely. “I think I have ferretitis!”
“Theo, what is happening?” Madeleine said groggily as she sat up in bed. “And what is that on my foot?” she screeched, throwing back the covers. It was none other than Hyacinth Hicklebee-Riyatulle.
“Morning, Mad Mad!”
“Good morning, Hyacinth. Would you mind terribly explaining why you are in my bed?”
“I’m pretty sure my question takes precedence, Maddie!” Theo said firmly. “Why did I wake up with your ferret in my mouth?”
“Wow, that is… hard-core,” Lulu stammered while pushing the hair out of her face.
“Celery sometimes does that when she’s cold. I sleep with my mouth closed, so it’s not a problem for me.”
“I can already feel the ferretitis taking over,” Theo moaned as he grabbed his throat. “I could go at any second. Honestly, I’m a little surprised I’m still here.”
“Ugh, Theo. You just made that disease up,” Lulu said as she rolled her sleepy eyes.
“I did,” Theo admitted, “but only as a placeholder until I get to the bottom of my symptoms.”
“Symptoms?” Madeleine asked. “You look fine. And Hyacinth already told us Celery is up-to-date on her shots.”
“Hyhy,” Hyacinth corrected Madeleine before continuing. “Don’t worry, Theo, after Celery was kidnapped by this crazy kid in my class and ransomed for my cheese sandwich, I decided it was probably a good idea for her to get all her shots again.”
“I’m kind of craving a cheese sandwich; that can’t be good!” Theo screeched.
“Theo, you always crave sandwiches. The only person who thinks about food more than you is Macaroni,” Lulu responded. “And he’s an English bulldog. It’s in their genes.”
With fear in his eyes and a touch of fur still in his mouth, Theo ran out of the room, down the hall, and past a bald, pajama-clad Mrs. Wellington on the staircase.
“Where on earth are you running off to, Chubby? Breakfast won’t be ready for another half hour.”
Theo ignored Mrs. Wellington as he took two stairs at a time. Through the foyer and Great Hall he ran, until he finally reached the kitchen. The boy dramatically dropped to his knees on the pink linoleum floor next to Macaroni. “Schmidty, I contracted something from that ferret, you know, the one with the gray fur?”
“Mister Theo, to my knowledge there is only one ferret at Summerstone, so yes, I know exactly of whom you’re speaking.”
“That mean girl—and I’m not talking about Lulu, who does occasionally punch me while claiming to fist-bump me…”
“Perhaps it’s time to look into new friends, Mister Theo.”
“I’m dying, Schmidty! Dying! I don’t have time to make new friends. As it is, I don’t know what kind of turnout my funeral will have. It’s summer vacation, everyone will be out of town. Oh no, a bad funeral. That’s even worse than a bad birthday party. Thank heavens I have a big family,” Theo wailed. “And you’ll come, right? I can count on you, Schmidty.”
“Dear Mister Theo, the likelihood that I’ll outlive you is about a billion to one.”
“Well, so are the odds of getting ferretitis from a ferret sleeping in your mouth. That’s right! That awful little ferret crawled into my mouth and slept in there. And he let it happen,” Theo said angrily as he pointed to Macaroni. “He was next to me snoring and occasionally even releasing gas, and he never bothered to wake me and say, ‘Hey, friend, there’s a ferret in your mouth.’ ”
“Macaroni has never been much of a watchdog. Although technically, that’s exactly what he does. He watches things happen but never feels the need to get involved.”
“And to think I was going to give you a pawdicure today,” Theo admonished Macaroni. “I was planning on a light pink nail polish that would go very well with your fur coat. But you can forget it. And if I die, don’t even think about missing my funeral, Macaroni!”
“Will you be giving everyone a pedicure today?” Schmidty asked with excitement.
“Schm, you know I love you, but I’ve seen your toes,” Theo said as he remembered Schmidty’s jagged brown toenails. “You need professional help.”
“Don’t we all, Mister Theo.”
“Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!” Hyacinth bellowed from upstairs, sending a jolt through Theo, Schmidty, and Macaroni.
“Oh, dear,” Schmidty said as he headed for the Great Hall.
“Where are you going, Schmidty? I’ve got ferretitis! Have mercy on the young and plump!”
As if there were not enough happening, Mrs. Wellington’s voice suddenly whipped through the Great Hall. “Schmidty! Get the tutu! We must leave immediately!”
CHAPTER 11
EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Emetophobia is the fear of vomiting.
Madeleine was still rather tired when Theo ran off in search of a ferretitis vaccine, so she decided to close her eyes once again. Prior to Theo’s intrusion, she had been mentally gallivanting through the small and windy streets of London in her smart school uniform. While Madeleine could not properly articulate why, the dream had left her feeling more than a smidge homesick.
The past year had been Madeleine’s happiest. For the first time, she had a true social life, chock-full of slumber parties, afternoon teas, and jaunts to Kensington High Street. Before plummeting into utter nostalgia, Madeleine reminded herself of the things London lacked, most notably consistent sunshine and Garrison. It was the thought of Garrison that prompted the young girl to crack open her eyes once again.
Seconds passed as Madeleine squinted, desperate for her eyes to focus properly. After years of imagining she saw spiders everywhere, the girl had become rather adept at refocusing. Only in this case, she couldn’t shake the image of a spider. And for a very good reason—it was in fact a spider. A mere two inches from Madeleine’s face dangled a large brown-and-burgundy spider. She wanted to scream, but she feared Hyacinth, who was still sleeping at her feet, would move abruptly. Madeleine was keenly aware that any quick movements could lead to a skin-to-furry-skin encounter.
Madeleine closed her eyes one last time, in a desperate bid to make the spider disappear. As she silently prayed, Madeleine felt a thump on the bed. She opened her eyes slowly, half hoping it had all been a dream. But the spider was still there, only now he had a very large friend with him. (Madeleine always assumed spiders were male. She quite honestly considered them too ghastly to be female.) Perched next to Madeleine’s face, Errol the cat watched the spider with a sort of deranged reverence. It was awfully hard to work out whether Errol yearned to eat the spider or sit down for a chat. With an indecipherable gleam in his eyes, Errol slowly wrapped the spider around his paw, all the while dangling the creature precariously over Madeleine’s face.
Madeleine’s life, at least as far as she was concerned, was hanging on a cat’s whim. And as everyone knows, cats are terribly unreliable. Why, it’s entirely normal for a cat to stop midmeal, midplay, midnap, for a tongue bath. What if Errol did that right now? The cat would drop the substantial-sized spider on her face! It was almost too much for Madeleine to comprehend. As her stomach growled loudly, Madeleine pushed her body against the mattress with all her might. However irrationally, Madeleine hoped the mattress would swallow her whole. But of course that did not happen. Instead, Errol, still dangling the spider over Madeleine’s face, took a seat on her chest.
With adrenaline pumping through her body, Madeleine bounced up, pushing both Errol and the spider into the air. What happened next would replay for years to come in Madeleine’s impressionable mind. As the pink-pajama-clad girl started for the door, Errol’s tentative grasp on the spider broke. The cat jutted his legs out and puffed up his fur as he went sailing toward Hyacinth, still asleep on Madeleine’s bed. Errol smashed into Hyacinth’s chest, prompting her to scream as she jolted straight up. Meanwhile, the brown-and-burgundy spider spiraled through the air, landing on Madeleine’s forehead. In that millisecond, Madeleine did not t
hink. She did not reason. She simply slapped herself in the head. And this wasn’t a light slap; this was a force of nature. So strong was the strike that Madeleine actually suffered a moderate case of whiplash.
“No!” Lulu screamed as she leapt out of bed and ran toward a dazed-looking Madeleine.
Sadly, Lulu was too late; far, far too late. Madeleine’s dainty alabaster forehead was covered in spider roadkill. Amid a good deal of spider intestines and goo were the creature’s thick and furry legs.
“Lulu,” Madeleine said weakly, “it’s not… is it? I imagined all that. I must have been dreaming, right?”
“Maddie, I want you to stay calm. Everything is going to be OK. I’m just going to grab a tissue…”
“God save the Queen,” Madeleine mumbled as she simultaneously threw up and fainted.
Madeleine awoke to more than a mess; she awoke to a crime scene. Looking up from her bed, she saw a crowd of familiar faces displaying both concern and nausea. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she noted the pungent smell of vomit in the air. Everyone continued to talk loudly while Madeleine furiously tried to comprehend the events that had taken place. How was it possible that such a spider found her? Was it simply bad luck, or could it be something more sinister? Madeleine focused on Hyacinth, who was now dressed in a purple pantsuit. Did the peculiar little girl have it in her? As much as Madeleine yearned for someone to blame, she simply didn’t think the ten-year-old could have done it.
“Maddie, you’re awake,” Garrison said sweetly, lifting her weakened spirits.
“Where did it come from?” Madeleine asked meekly as she sat up in bed.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” Mrs. Wellington muttered awkwardly.
“Please tell me, Mrs. Wellington,” Madeleine pleaded as her heart rate jumped rapidly, “please.”
“We were burglarized again last night…”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry,” Madeleine said with immense relief, having thought the bad news was spider-related.
“And while stealing two of my portraits, the burglar also managed to knock over quite a few things.”
“Oh, how dreadful. Does Schmidty need help tidying up?”
“No, dear, although it’s terribly kind of you to offer, especially since Schmidty is not the housekeeper he once was—”
“Madame,” Schmidty interrupted, “I implore you to remain on topic.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Anyway, while rummaging through the house, the burglar got into quite a few jars in the B and B. Not all the compartments in the B and B were opened, thank heavens, or we would have a few Bermuda pythons on our hands. However…”
“Oh, dear, this is not the making of good news,” Madeleine said as day-old food rose in her throat.
“The burglar tipped over the double B’s and the triple B’s.”
“I know I am going to regret asking this,” Madeleine said before swallowing loudly, “but what are the double and triple B’s?”
“Maddie,” Garrison said calmly, “sometimes ignorance really is bliss.”
“Yeah, I got to go with Gary on this one,” Theo blurted out. “I really don’t think you want to know.”
“Celery thinks you should find out, but I don’t,” Hyacinth said with a smile. “And by the way, I had so much fun sleeping next to your feet last night. And FYI, they don’t smell at all.”
“This is hardly the occasion, Hyacinth,” Madeleine said sternly.
Normally Theo would have rejoiced in Madeleine telling someone else that it wasn’t the time. However, he was far too concerned about Madeleine’s mental state to celebrate.
“Guys, let’s get real about the situation; she’s going to find out one way or another. At least this way she’s prepared,” Lulu said firmly.
“Please, you must tell me.”
“The triple B’s are the Balinese Brown and Burgundy spiders. You already seem to be rather well acquainted with them,” Mrs. Wellington said with a wry smile. “And the double B’s are the Bulgarian beetles. But no need to worry, neither is poisonous. As a matter of fact, the beetles are heralded for their intellect in Eastern Europe.”
“How many of these horrid creatures are on the loose?” Madeleine whispered hysterically.
“One hundred of each,” Mrs. Wellington said as she winced with anticipation.
“Ahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Madeleine hollered, opening her mouth wider than a hippopotamus’s.
“I’m pretty sure I saw her tonsils,” Theo murmured to Hyacinth as he leaned away from Madeleine’s deafening shriek.
“Don’t mention tonsils in front of Celery; she gets superjealous that she doesn’t have any. Celery really wanted to have them removed so she could sit around and eat ice cream all day, so you can imagine how disappointed she was when she learned she didn’t have any,” Hyacinth whispered back.
Theo merely nodded his head in response to Hyacinth’s strange rant on ferret tonsils before focusing his attention back on Madeleine.
“Maddie, don’t worry, I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Garrison said heroically.
“Garrison, how can you say that? You’re not even a trained exterminator.”
If Madeleine hadn’t been so terrified, she might have found Garrison’s pledge romantic in a Gone With the Wind sort of way. But she was far too preoccupied fighting the urge to vomit to bother blushing at Garrison’s macho gesture.
“I can’t stay here. Summerstone is a pit of spiders and beetles,” Madeleine wailed. “Hundreds of spiders and beetles on the loose. Please, I can’t bear it! Throw me out the window! Or just kill me! They could be anywhere! Absolutely anywhere! Wait! I think I feel something on my leg! What is it? Someone look! It’s moving!” Madeleine screamed while flailing about on the bed.
“Miss Madeleine, we are to leave as soon as you’re dressed. I’m afraid the bugs are only half the story,” Schmidty announced glumly before turning his eyes to Mrs. Wellington.
“The burglar left us a rather disturbing note,” Mrs. Wellington said, handing the letter to Madeleine.
Dear Mrs. Wellington,
We know what you are doing. Meet us at 4 PM to face the consequences. If you don’t show up, we will tell everyone the truth about what you’ve been doing up there on the hill. And if you do show up, we’ll probably still tell everyone, but at least you’ll have a chance to defend yourself to your peers.
The pageant starts at 4 PM sharp at Franklin Park in Boston.
All the best,
The Burglar
“I found it on my desk in the classroom this morning,” Mrs. Wellington said. “Clearly it’s from an old beauty queen looking for a rematch.”
“I’m a little surprised the burglar signed it ‘All the best.’ How many thieves are that polite?” Theo asked the group.
“I bet Munchauser’s behind this,” Lulu said confidently. “He is a gambling addict, after all. He probably got in too deep at the racetrack and is looking for stuff to pawn.”
“While it’s true that Munchauser once lost his daughter in a game of poker, his cat in a game of chess, and his great-aunty Bertha in a game of blackjack,” said Mrs. Wellington, “I certainly don’t think he would ever steal from me. Actually, on second thought, I could imagine him lifting a few dollars here and there, but my wigs? Grace’s shell? No, I don’t believe it.”
“We really must go if we are to make it to Boston in time,” Schmidty stated emphatically.
“Yay!” Hyacinth exploded enthusiastically. “Road trip!”
CHAPTER 12
EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Gerontophobia is the fear of old people.
Madeleine sat sullenly on Summerstone’s front porch, dressed in makeshift body armor consisting of a shower cap, her night veil, and an oversized plastic rain poncho. On her forehead was a rather large silhouette of the eight-legged beast she had vigorously demolished. So detailed was the impression that Theo could actually see the minute hairs on the spider’s legs.
“Theo, tell me the truth—it’s ghastly, isn’t it?” Madeleine said in a nervous manner.
“Oh, no,” Theo responded quickly, “you hardly notice it, except when looking at your face…”
“Theo!” Lulu yelled. “What is wrong with you?”
“Sorry! I hadn’t thought out my lie, and then I became mesmerized by the detail of the imprint, and the next thing you know, I’m telling the truth. I think that spider may have hypnotic powers… so don’t blame me… for the insensitive thing I said…” Theo trailed off as Hyacinth shoved her ear against Celery’s mouth.
“Theo, Celery wants to know what’s next. Are you planning to ask Madeleine about her crooked English teeth? Basically Celery thinks you are a superrude marshmallow,” Hyacinth uttered with a smile.
“Excuse me, but my teeth are perfectly straight,” Madeleine corrected Hyacinth before opening her mouth wide.
“But you’re English, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Celery thought all English people had bad teeth,” Hyacinth muttered. “Sorry. You know how ferrets can be, always believing stereotypes. Honestly, I have no idea where she picks this stuff up.”
Luckily for Celery, Madeleine was too worried about the spider imprint to bother with the prejudiced ferret.
“You don’t think it will scar, do you? I must get fringe immediately.”
“Fringe?” Theo asked.
“Bangs to you Americans,” Madeleine explained. “I can’t spend my life looking at a spider imprint on my own head. Can you imagine anything worse?”
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