Class Is Not Dismissed!

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Class Is Not Dismissed! Page 12

by Gitty Daneshvari


  “Sylvie says she’s going to run the story at the end of the month. She’s only waiting so she can get front-page placement.”

  “I never thought it would end this way, but then again, I never thought it would end,” Mrs. Wellington said, her face pale—with the exception of her generously applied eye shadow and lipstick. “I suppose we ought to prepare or mourn or do whatever it is that people do when something dies. Sheriff, would you drive us back to Summerstone now?”

  During the ride back to the base of Summerstone the children sensed something was wrong, but they couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. Theo watched Mrs. Wellington and Schmidty closely, noting the look of pure agony on both their faces. As bad as seeing Macaroni dressed in a tutu had been, Theo knew Schmidty could not possibly have such a tortured expression over something that silly. And as for Mrs. Wellington—sure, she had been banned from dog pageants, but she could always start her own. No, it was something else, Theo thought as the van stopped at the bottom of the mountain. The five students, Macaroni, Schmidty, and Mrs. Wellington rode the SVT in silence. It wasn’t until the group got to Summerstone’s imposing front door that someone finally said something.

  “I’m sorry, but would everyone mind terribly if I waited out here while you tried to round up the spiders and beetles?” Madeleine asked. “And please keep your eyes peeled for any sort of crossbreeding between the two. I’m rather certain it’s taken place.”

  “No one minds in the slightest,” Mrs. Wellington said kindly, “although I will be retiring for the night, so you will be on your own. Schmidty, I trust that you can handle the situation after my departure.”

  “Of course, Madame.”

  “I suppose that’s one good thing; you won’t have to call me Madame anymore.”

  “Oh, no, I shall always call you Madame. Our relationship could not exist without a rigid hierarchy.”

  “So true, old man, so true,” Mrs. Wellington said meekly before walking into Summerstone.

  “Wow, she is really depressed about being kicked out of that pageant,” Garrison said, shaking his head in shock. “I had no idea dogs in costume could mean so much to someone.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Is that what’s happening?” Lulu asked Schmidty pointedly, sensing there was more to the situation.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s nothing to do with that. Unfortunately, it appears that at the pageant a reporter was given inside information about our institution, including details of Mrs. Wellington’s many techniques, and perhaps most damaging, everything about Abernathy. The article will be the end of us.”

  “Those stupid Knapps! I am going to kidnap Jeffrey just to punish them! They’re going to regret they ever messed with us!” Lulu screeched.

  “Yeah!” Theo yelled. “And we’ll dress him up in really bad clothes too. He’ll be laughed out of every dog park in Massachusetts.”

  “I’m sorry to inform you, but it wasn’t the Knapps. According to the sheriff, the reporter was given the inside scoop by one of our students. And while the student is not mentioned by name since she is a minor, it does state that she traveled with a pet ferret.”

  Hyacinth immediately lowered her eyes to the ground in shame.

  “Why, you despicable, evil, pestilent, virulent little maggot,” Madeleine exploded furiously. “If I weren’t terrified to go into the house, I’d storm away, because simply looking at you makes me ill!”

  “What? No, Mad Mad! You can’t be angry at me. We’re besties. It wasn’t my fault. Celery said it was OK to tell Sylvie, because she is a bestie too! Sylvie and Hyhy, friends forever! I never would have done it if Celery hadn’t said it was OK. Please believe me. I’m innocent in all this. It’s all Celery’s fault!”

  “Pathetic! You can’t even own your own mistake; you’re blaming it on a ferret,” Lulu yelled at the small child in a pantsuit.

  “No, Lulu, please understand. Sylvie is a bestie like you guys. I don’t keep anything from my besties. I thought that’s what besties did. I thought they held hands and told each other all their secrets.”

  “You know what is so sad about this whole thing?” Theo asked rhetorically. “It’s that you are so obsessed with being friends with everyone, but you don’t even know the first thing about friendship. You’re not even a good friend to your ferret. You blame all your mean comments and mistakes on her. I know for a fact that if I had left Garrison, Madeleine, or Lulu alone with a reporter for days, they would never have betrayed anyone, least of all Mrs. Wellington.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Hyacinth mumbled.

  “I think it’s best that you and Celery go to your room, Hyacinth. The rest of us have quite a lot of spider-catching to do before Madeleine can go to bed,” Schmidty said unemotionally.

  “I can help!”

  “We don’t want your help,” Garrison said firmly. “We don’t want anything to do with you.”

  CHAPTER 20

  EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:

  Enissophobia is the fear of criticism.

  Hyacinth entered Summerstone’s foyer with a stoic expression, her emotions seemingly contained. The young girl had barely reached the staircase when her legs began to tremble. Soon her chest tightened, and she felt as though she could barely breathe. Tears poured down her cheeks as she mounted the stairs reluctantly. With each step Hyacinth fought the overwhelming urge to run back outside and throw herself on the mercy of the others. She couldn’t explain why, but her instincts had always told her to flee when left alone. It was this sense of panic that had driven her to always have a companion.

  Hyacinth recognized that there was no rational reason to fear being alone; however, the experience left her filled with a sense of panic. Her mind raced as her emotions surged, leaving little to no room for logic. She started for the door, but stopped suddenly. Hyacinth knew they would force her to return, and she couldn’t bear to walk those stairs alone again. Moreover, seeing her classmates’ critical expressions would only augment her already overwhelming guilt and shame about the situation.

  Alone in her bedroom, Hyacinth curled up next to Celery and cried. She had never felt quite so small and insignificant as she did on that bed. The world seemed a cold and lonely place, and the worst part was, she had made it that way. Oddly, after thoroughly soaking both her pillowcase and her ferret with tears, Hyacinth began to think clearly for the first time since arriving at School of Fear.

  Hyacinth didn’t really know that much about the others, and they knew next to nothing about her. No one had asked her any questions, and as much as she longed to blame them for being unfriendly, she knew that wasn’t the case. Hyacinth had never allowed a normal conversation to develop, one in which she could have spoken of her childhood in Kansas City or her summers in Mumbai with her grandmother. Oh, yes, Hyacinth thought, such natural chatting would have been divine. Suddenly overwhelmed with stories she wished she had shared with the others, Hyacinth cried even harder. And as intense as the tears were, she made a special point to remain as quiet as possible. After all Hyacinth had done that day, she didn’t wish to disturb anyone any further.

  Downstairs, Madeleine moved about frantically, wildly slapping her arms and legs. She was certain she felt the tickling walk of multiple insects and spiders all across her body. Madeleine’s preoccupation with bugs was not a reflection of her indifference to Mrs. Wellington’s pain. On the contrary, Madeleine had a sinking pit of misery in her stomach over Mrs. Wellington. But she also recognized that she couldn’t ignore the army of spiders and beetles roaming Summerstone.

  “I can feel them crawling on me. This is absolute torture,” Madeleine said, her voice cracking.

  “Miss Madeleine,” Schmidty said, “it’s awful to see you so distraught. I believe I have some extra repellent stored away for emergencies. Perhaps you would care to wait here while I find it?”

  “Oh, yes! That would be brilliant. You are such a lovely man. Thank you,” Madeleine said as Schmidty made his way into Summers
tone.

  “Guys, I’m really battling with something,” Garrison said while brushing blond locks away from his tanned face.

  “Oh, no! Have they gotten to you too?” Madeleine squealed.

  “No, Maddie, and they haven’t gotten to you either. It’s just your imagination, I promise,” Garrison said, lowering his eyes to the ground. “I know it’s wrong, because surfers are supposed to be about peace and forgiveness, but I am so angry at that girl. I can’t even say her name, I’m just so mad…”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself; you’re a pretend surfer, not a pretend Buddhist. You don’t have to like everyone,” Lulu responded.

  “Buddhism is definitely on my list of potential religions,” Theo mumbled to himself.

  “It’s really unfair. Mrs. Wellington doesn’t deserve this,” Lulu added with a sigh, “and neither do we. If the school is exposed, what happens to us? Who will help us? How could one blabbermouth ten-year-old cause this much trouble? I’m so mad I could cry. And Punchalowers don’t cry… not even at funerals.”

  “Bartholomews definitely cry. Well, technically, not my mom or my dad or any of my siblings, but I do,” Theo said, placing his hand on Lulu’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe when the article comes out, past students will come forward and tell the reporter about how Mrs. Wellington helped them. And then she can write another article and no one will even remember Abernathy.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think it would matter if others came forward,” Madeleine said while spraying repellent all around her. “If you heard that Mrs. Wellington drove a former student into becoming a forest-dwelling nutter, would you trust her with your child?”

  “Well, my parents might, but they’re not that into me,” Lulu mumbled. “Mrs. Wellington is a true wacko, but somehow, against all logic and common sense, she does manage to help people. It really is one of life’s great mysteries.”

  “So that’s it? This is Mrs. Wellington’s legacy? The crazy lady on the hill who turned a man into an antisocial forest-dweller. Oh, and she matched her makeup to her clothes. No. That is not right. I won’t accept it,” Theo said. He paused to touch his stomach. “Something really creepy is happening. I feel my inner activist coming out.”

  “Why must you make it seem like an alien is coming out of your stomach just because you feel motivated to help someone?” Lulu asked, rolling her eyes at the theatrical boy.

  “I don’t believe in aliens, Lulu, you know that. This new persona, the man who doesn’t just accept the way things are but changes them, I think he deserves a new name. How about Adam the Activist?”

  “You are beginning to sound like someone with multiple personalities.”

  “Point taken, Lulu, so it’s just Theo the Activist. Here’s what Theo the Activist is thinking. Let’s get a whole bunch of new students and chronicle how Mrs. Wellington cures them. It will be a documentary, which I will host à la Michael Moore. Hosting is something I have always wanted to try, so this would let me kill two birds with one stone. And I say that metaphorically, because as you know, I would never kill a bird, let alone with a stone.”

  “Sorry, Theo, but I think your national debut is going to have to wait,” Garrison chimed in.

  “Honestly, Theo, weren’t you listening?” Madeleine asked. “No parent in their right mind would send their children to School of Fear once they read that story. We simply won’t be able to scrounge up any new nutters for your documentary.”

  “Nutters would be a great name for a candy bar. Peanuts, walnuts, pecans—all covered in caramel and chocolate. Around Christmas they could do a special macadamia or hazelnut bar… Holiday Nutter—better for you than cooking with butter. The slogan needs a little work but you get the idea.”

  Lulu and Madeleine were staring dumbfounded at Theo when Garrison suddenly started pumping his fist in the air. “Maybe it’s not about finding new students, but revisiting an old one?”

  CHAPTER 21

  EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:

  Novercaphobia is the fear of stepmothers.

  With repellent in hand, Madeleine set about creating a cloud so dense that she could barely make out Garrison seated a mere three feet away. She didn’t care that she was essentially bathing in harmful chemicals and solvents. Madeleine could focus on only one thing—or rather two things, spiders and beetles. If she was to reenter the den of doom, as she thought of Summerstone, she needed to take precautions. This was unlike any normal situation: she knew for a fact that there were spiders and beetles in the house, and lots of them.

  As Madeleine continued to fret endlessly about spiders and such, Garrison continued with his epiphany. “We need to recruit Abernathy. The article isn’t running until the end of the month, so if we can get him here and on the path to rehabilitation it could destroy this woman’s article… and maybe she won’t run it… or even if she does, it won’t be so powerful.”

  “I am really hoping there is another Abernathy out there in the world, because I am not into hanging out with the weird forest guy,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I was actually thinking we should recommend him for a makeover show, get rid of the moss under his nails and stuff. Maybe after that we could hang out, but preferably not in the forest.”

  “You are so selfish!” Lulu snapped at Theo. “What happened to Theo the Activist? All you think about is yourself. What’s best for you? What’s easiest for you? When are you going to eat next? And the worst part is, you pretend to be this kind, emotional, sensitive man, when you’re really just a scared, self-centered little boy.”

  Theo stared at Lulu as Garrison and Madeleine looked away, afraid that Theo might spontaneously combust or drown himself in hysterics. But he didn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath, an exceptionally long breath. It was so long, in fact, that it was rather implausible that it was actually all one breath. But that was Theo, always looking to overdo things. After the abnormally and most likely impossible two-minute breath, Theo looked down at his sash. He touched it. He rubbed it against his face, but not to wipe away tears.

  “You’re right, Lulu,” Theo said slowly and in an incredibly calm manner. “I was being selfish and immature, and very unlike a hall monitor, and for that I’m sorry. I take full responsibility for my behavior, because that is what a man should do.”

  “Wow, thanks, Theo,” Lulu said with a satisfied smile. “I’m really surprised and even a little impressed.”

  “Well, that’s what I do, I impress people,” Theo said with a shrug. “Also, I would like to remind you that at the age of thirteen I am considered in many cultures to be a man, so next time you tell me off, you can just say I am an immature man instead of a boy.”

  “If you want me to call you a man, then act like one. Help us get Abernathy up here and reenrolled in School of Fear.”

  “Not to interrupt,” Madeleine said softly, “but we don’t even know what his phobia is, or if there’s only one. Abernathy could have thousands, for all we know. Plus, how exactly do you plan on drawing him out of the forest? Or were you planning to have us enter the forest?”

  “OK, we are not entering the forest,” Garrison said authoritatively. “The four of us getting lost and disappearing in the vines is not going to help Mrs. Wellington’s case. If we go down there, I bet he’ll come to the edge and stare at us like he did last summer. From there we need to figure out how to persuade him to come up to Summerstone and reenroll.”

  “I say we start with a plate of sandwiches and move on to tiramisu, because you know he can’t get take-out in the forest.”

  “Not that I am opposed to taking him a sandwich, or biscuits or sweets, but it’s rather imperative that we have a more advanced plan than simply food. Perhaps we should consult Schmidty. The more information on Abernathy we have, the more likely we are to understand what happened between him and Mrs. Wellington,” Madeleine said intelligently.

  “Agreed,” Lulu and Garrison said in unison.

  “But we’re still bringing food, right?”


  “Yes, Chubs, there will be food,” Lulu said as Schmidty came outside with a tray of cheese, crackers, and fruit.

  “I’m afraid it’s going to be a cold and rather minimal supper, children. I simply don’t have the energy to turn on the stove.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Madeleine said sweetly. “But Schmidty, would you mind sitting with us for a moment? We would very much like to pick your brain.”

  “Please pick away, Miss Madeleine.”

  “I suppose there is no delicate way to ask this, so I am just going to come out with it. Why was Abernathy originally sent to School of Fear?”

  Schmidty nervously patted his comb-over before answering. “Abernathy had a dreadful case, perhaps the worst case in history, of novercaphobia.” Schmidty paused to see if that meant anything to them. “The fear of stepmothers.”

  “This is straight out of a fairy tale,” a riveted Theo said as the others looked at him questioningly. “Cinderella. Doesn’t anyone read anymore? I’m beginning to feel like the last scholar standing.”

  “I’m pretty sure that you’re sitting down, and you’re definitely not a scholar,” Lulu clarified.

  “It was all much more sad and unfortunate than any fairy tale I’ve read, and as you know, there was no happy ending for anyone involved.”

  “I loathe pressing you on this, Schmidty, but we have a plan to help Mrs. Wellington, and we need to know everything. In order for this plan to have even the faintest chance of working, we must know everything that happened between Mrs. Wellington and Abernathy,” Madeleine said firmly.

  “Well, I’m not sure it’s my place to discuss another student with you, especially as it’s a sensitive case. Madame is already devastated; I would hate for her to feel I betrayed her confidence and Abernathy’s.”

  “Listen, Schmidty, you need a reality check. Mrs. Wellington’s name is going to be mud, absolutely ruined. However false the content of this article, it will seem credible because of Abernathy. Unless we do something, the school is finished! It’s over! Dead!” Garrison said heatedly. This prompted Schmidty to sit down.

 

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