The Doldrums and the Helmsley Curse

by Nicholas Gannon

  Mrs. Murkley was a former Raven Wood instructor who’d ended up becoming Archer’s instructor at the Willow Academy. Archer, Oliver, and Adélaïde hadn’t been sure what had prompted Mrs. Murkley’s departure from Raven Wood, but knowing her to be a brutish terror, they’d all agreed it must have been something bad—maybe as bad as crushing a teacher beneath a polar bear.

  “De-tusked the ol’ boar, did you, Archer?” Mr. Churnick had erupted into laughter and nearly fallen off his chair. “Justice has finally been served! By you! But how did I not hear about this sooner? Good news always travels slower than bad news, I suppose.”

  Archer hadn’t understood Mr. Churnick’s mirth at the time. And Benjamin had been no help in figuring it out. Benjamin was a temporary boarder. He only came to Raven Wood when his father, a travel guide, went away for long periods. (Benjamin never mentioned anything about his mother. Archer wasn’t sure if he had one.) But eventually Archer pieced together the Murkley tale.

  Though the exact details varied from source to source, all accounts followed the same basic premise: a boy named Phillip had fallen four stories from the Raven Wood rooftops and would have died had he not landed in a topiary shaped like a raven. It was quite a scandal. And Mrs. Murkley was at the center of it. Nothing could be proven, but most parents withdrew their children from the institution, leaving Raven Wood on the brink of bankruptcy. And Raven Wood looked it. The halls were filthy. Lights were always going out. The gardens were overgrown. And that’s to say nothing of the food.

  ♦ BENJAMIN’S LETTER ♦

  Archer and Benjamin scurried into the dining hall and took their usual spot in the corner. A miserable server plopped bowls before them with a surprising thud. Archer pried his spoon out and studied the white, clumpy slop.

  “The oatmeal’s getting worse,” Benjamin groaned, staring despairingly at his bowl.

  “I didn’t think that was possible,” Archer said, licking his spoon and quickly wishing he hadn’t. “Now it tastes like cardboard and glue.”

  “And maybe a pound of lard?” Benjamin suggested.

  Two large hands gripped Archer’s shoulder.

  “Morning, boys.” Mr. Churnick was making his morning rounds. “Goodness, Archer! You’re an ice cube! Sorry about the heating cuts. I’m doing the best I can. Must find ways to save money.” Mr. Churnick leaned over Archer’s shoulder to inspect their bowls. “At least the food has improved a bit.”

  “Would you mind if we skipped breakfast?” Archer asked, dropping his spoon into the bowl. “I want to go to the mailroom.”

  Mr. Churnick glanced around at the other students and nodded. “Quickly now. Don’t make a show of it.”

  “I actually had a question for you, Archer,” Mr. Churnick continued as they made for the mailroom. “It’s about that Willow Academy. What’s your opinion of it?”

  Despite the fact that the school had expelled him, Archer had nothing against it. “It was fine before Mrs. Murkley showed up.”

  “That’s what I’m curious about, Archer. I was discussing some important business with Mrs. Thimbleton, the head of school, but she wouldn’t explain why she hired that festering oyster after I fired her. The decision was questionable at best, and I was hoping to get an opinion on the school from someone else.”

  “You could talk to Miss Whitewood,” Archer suggested. “She’s the librarian. She’s very nice.”

  “Thanks for the tip, Archer. Now, try not to be late to class again. I think the teachers are catching on that your detention slips keep vanishing from my office.”

  Mr. Churnick slapped him on the back with a force that nearly sent him through a wall, and left the boys at the mailroom. Raven Wood’s mailroom was a crevice of a space, dingy like everything else, and encircled with wooden slots. Benjamin rushed in before Archer and bumped into a small table. The stack of newspapers on top of it tumbled into an empty mail cart. Archer hurried to his slot, spotting a letter and two packages.

  “Is that from your grandparents?” Benjamin asked, sounding almost nervous as he pulled a letter from his own slot.

  “No, it’s from Oliver and Adélaïde.” Archer scratched a hot chocolate stain on the envelope. “But Mrs. Glub sent more pastries.”

  Benjamin pretended to swoon.

  Oliver’s mother was arguably the greatest pastry chef in Rosewood. And Archer was certain he’d have starved by now had it not been for her frequent care packages. Benjamin was equally grateful.

  “Are both boxes for us?”

  “One’s a cheesecake for Mr. Churnick.” Archer inspected the dampened box. “I hope it didn’t get too smushed.”

  He slid it back into his slot and grabbed his letter and his other package, and they made for the school’s front entrance. Archer pulled a coat from a hook and handed a second to Benjamin. They were adult coats that went well past their knees, but they didn’t care. Benjamin followed him through a heavy oak door and down a stone walkway toward the sea.

  “I don’t understand why I haven’t heard from my grandparents,” Archer said, nearly slipping on an icy stone. “Or my parents. No one’s saying anything.”

  “At least you’re going home tomorrow.” Benjamin sighed. “I’ll be eating that slop on Christmas morning.”

  Archer grimaced. Benjamin’s father was still traveling and he’d have to spend the entire winter holiday at Raven Wood. Archer didn’t know much about Mr. Birthwhistle, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d heard the name before. He’d told Benjamin as much, and Benjamin guessed he’d only imagined hearing it.

  When they reached the seating area overlooking the sea, Archer used his extra-long coat sleeve to wipe snow off a bench, and they sat down. He opened the pastry box and handed Benjamin a walnut crumble muffin. Benjamin held it like a sacred object. Archer laughed and tore open his letter.

  Dear Archer,

  I hope you’re doing well at Raven Wood. Things are still fine here. Well, Oliver has a black eye. He got into a fight with Charlie Brimble at the Button Factory. Charlie was making jokes about you and your family again so Oliver jumped in.

  I think Oliver wanted to tell you about our new neighbor, a girl named Kana Misra, so I’ll let him do that. But I think she likes him! (He gets angry every time I say that.)

  I haven’t seen your grandparents. But everyone in Rosewood is talking about them. Have you heard anything? I’m guessing they’ll be home soon. And so will you.

  We miss you,

  Adélaïde

  Dear Archer,

  Charlie Brimble was making jokes about you at school. Adélaïde went after him, and she dragged me into it. I’m not sure what happened, but somehow I’m the one who got punched. Adélaïde’s always had a death wish, but I think it’s getting worse.

  I forgot to tell you in my last letter—we have a new neighbor. She moved into Mrs. Murkley’s old house. Diptikana Misra. I’ve never had a class with her, but she’s that girl with dark hair and light blue fish eyes that never seem to see what they’re looking at. Anyway, she’s starting to creep me out. I’ve caught her staring at me a lot lately. She might even be spying on me. Adélaïde thinks something different, but I don’t want to talk about that.

  Safe travels,

  Oliver

  P.S. Our Christmas party is the night you get back. Your father told mine you’d be there.

  P.P.S. I have some news about DuttonLick’s sweetshop. But I’ve run out of room here, so I’ll tell you when I see you.

  Archer could barely wait to see his friends again.

  “I’ll talk to Mrs. Glub when I get home,” he said, folding the letters and tucking them back into the envelope. “I’ll send you as many pastries as I can while I’m in Rosewood. And I was thinking, if I leave most of my things here and go home with an empty trunk, I could bring it back filled with—”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow too,” Benjamin said, lowering his letter. “My father cut his trip short. He’s on his way back to Rosewood.”

  “Does that mea
n you won’t be coming back to Raven Wood after the break?”

  Benjamin nodded. He would return to his school in Rosewood, a small private institution called Drabblefort Academy. Archer was both upset and a little jealous. He secretly hoped his parents would let him stay in Rosewood after the winter holiday, but he felt certain his mother wouldn’t hear of it. And now his only friend at Raven Wood was leaving for good? For Benjamin, at least, this should have been good news, but Benjamin didn’t look pleased about it. He almost looked sick.

  “Is something wrong?” Archer asked.

  Benjamin took a bite of his walnut muffin and chewed slowly. “I’ve been thinking about your grandparents,” he finally said. “You always speak very highly of them, but I was wondering, Archer, what if they’re not what you think they are?” Benjamin took another bite. “There must be a reason your mother kept them away from you for nearly twelve years.”

  Archer plucked a walnut from his muffin. He had been only two days old when his parents struck an agreement with his grandparents that required the explorers to stay away from him until his twelfth birthday.

  “My mother’s disturbed by what they are,” he explained, popping the walnut into his mouth. “She doesn’t like that they’re explorers. And she doesn’t want me to end up like them.”

  “But what if she doesn’t like who they are?” Benjamin asked. “What if they’re not good people? What if they’re dangerous?”

  Archer almost laughed at the suggestion, but the laugh stayed inside his throat. Benjamin was perfectly serious. “Why would my grandparents be dangerous?” Archer asked.

  “All I’m trying to say is you don’t know your grandparents at all, Archer. And I think you should be ready for something you might not expect.”

  For the rest of that day, it seemed like Benjamin had lots of other things he wanted to say, but though Archer prodded him, Benjamin stayed quiet. When they returned to their room that evening, Benjamin went straight to bed, despite it being their last night together. He even skipped his nightly plant inspection.

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Archer asked.

  Benjamin covered his head with a blanket.

  “I’m just tired, is all. We have a long journey home tomorrow.”

  Archer tapped his fingers on his desk. Benjamin hadn’t been this odd or quiet since their first week together. Did he not want to go home? Benjamin rarely spoke about his father. Maybe they didn’t get on well. But what troubled Archer more was Benjamin’s suggestion that his grandparents might be dangerous. Why would Benjamin say that?

  Archer turned out the light and crawled into bed. When the hall clock chimed midnight, he was still wide awake. Dangerous? Archer peered across the oddly quiet room. Benjamin’s head was still covered, but he wasn’t snoring. Benjamin always snored.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  ♦ AN ODD FAREWELL ♦

  Archer’s final hours at Raven Wood dragged, and Benjamin’s continued silence only made them longer. When the final bell rang, Archer’s scarlet trunk was already packed.

  “Just go to the buses without me,” Benjamin said, trying to make room inside his trunk for the Paria glavra.

  Archer heaved his trunk out into the hall and went to Mr. Churnick’s office. Mr. Churnick wasn’t there, so Archer left the cheesecake on his desk alongside a thank-you note. On his way out, he bumped into Benjamin, who didn’t look pleased about it. But together, they followed the shouts of teachers and a line of students boarding a rickety bus. After taking his seat, Archer spotted Mr. Churnick dashing out the school doors. The headmaster slid up to the bus windows and searched them till he and Archer were face-to-face. Mr. Churnick said something, but the engine roared and the bus pulled away and all Archer could do was wave, watching as Mr. Churnick grew smaller and smaller.

  At Stonewick Station, excited students crowded into a train.

  “Three weeks of no school!” someone shouted. Everyone cheered.

  Benjamin sat down across from Archer, dug into his leather satchel, and set an emerald-green book on his lap. Benjamin was always poring over that book, filled with detailed plant drawings and descriptions.

  “Did you know there’s a place in Rosewood called the Society?” Archer asked. “I’ve never been there and I don’t know much about it, but it’s an organization of explorers and naturalists. My grandfather used to be its president. I’m hoping I’ll get to see it while I’m home. You’d probably like it, too. I’m sure they have lots of great plant people.”

  Benjamin was still staring at his book, but Archer could tell he’d stopped reading.

  “That sounds interesting,” Benjamin said, turning a page. “They’re called botanists, by the way.”

  Archer looked out the window.

  The snowy pines gave way to more and more buildings as they pushed farther south. Three very long and very quiet hours later, they crossed the frozen canal and entered Rosewood. Students crammed the windows to better see the darkened city dotted with lights. Benjamin pushed someone’s elbow out of his face and grinned at Archer, but the grin vanished so quickly Archer thought he’d imagined it.

  They arrived at Rosewood Station with a great rush. Train crew piled trunks and luggage on the platform. Archer and Benjamin wove through happy families greeting one another and found their trunks. Archer tried one last time to find out what was bothering Benjamin.

  “We had a good time at Raven Wood, Archer,” Benjamin said, searching the crowd. “But there’s something I should have told you. I didn’t want to. And even if I had, I don’t think you’d have believed me. You’ll understand soon enough. You’re going to hate me.” Benjamin grabbed one side of his trunk and nodded to a plump woman who was sprinting toward them. “That’s Mrs. Fig. I’m staying with them until my father arrives.”

  “Welcome home, Benjamin!” Mrs. Fig cried, clamping the boy in a hug that could have split him in two. Her terribly festive bright green coat was blinding, and her jolly grin was almost frightening. “Digby was so thrilled to hear you’d be spending the holidays with us!”

  Mrs. Fig’s yuletide spirit melted the moment she noticed Archer.

  “You?” She grabbed the other side of Benjamin’s trunk and pulled him a safe distance. “You’re Archer Helmsley, aren’t you? Yes, I remember you. Nearly got my Digby eaten by tigers! And now all this about your grandparents—” Mrs. Fig shook a salami-like finger in his face. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Hurry now, Benjamin. You don’t want to be anywhere near that one or his miserable family.”

  And just like that, Benjamin was gone.

  Archer sat down on his trunk, thinking his friend had cracked. Had Benjamin eaten one too many bowls of Raven Wood oatmeal?

  “Archer! Over here! Sorry I’m late!”

  Archer’s father was weaving his way through the crowd. Mr. Helmsley was a tall and skinny bifocaled lawyer—a fine and respectable profession, but a disappointing choice to Archer’s grandparents.

  “We heard the country air did wonders,” Mr. Helmsley said, hugging Archer and then looking him over. “Mr. Churnick has been singing your praises ever since you left. Your mother wouldn’t believe him at first. Have you lost weight? You didn’t have much to lose!”

  “The food at Raven Wood was terrible,” Archer explained with a smile.

  While Archer had always felt at odds with both his parents, he’d always been more comfortable around his father.

  “Sounds like the same cuisine they served at my boarding school. I still have nightmares about it.” Mr. Helmsley glanced at the clock. “But there will be plenty to eat at the Glubs’ party tonight. And we’d best hurry, or your mother might add us to the soup!”

  They hauled Archer’s trunk out a station door and into a taxicab. Archer couldn’t believe the snow as they set off. The mounds were almost as tall as the cab. Rosewood was completely buried.

  “Have you heard anything about your grandparents?” Mr. Helmsley asked, cleaning his snow-speck
led glasses with the end of his tie.

  “No,” Archer replied, watching snowflakes whirl past the window. “They never sent me a letter.” He turned to his father, suddenly feeling more frightened than nervous. “Are they home?”

  “Not yet. And you mustn’t take it personally, Archer. They’ve been cryptic ever since news broke that they were still alive. From what little I’ve heard, they should arrive any day now.”

  ♦ THAT HORRIBLE THING IS BACK ♦

  The taxi slid to halt before Helmsley House. Archer and his father lugged the scarlet trunk up the icy front steps and heaved it into the foyer. It landed with a thud. Mrs. Helmsley poked her head from a door at the end of the hall. Archer’s mother was usually quite poised and proper—a model for model citizens. But in that moment, she more resembled the frazzled Mrs. Glub.

  “Oh! I thought you were them,” she gasped.

  “Any word?” Mr. Helmsley asked.

  “No. And I know you don’t think it necessary, but you must review the brochures. These facilities might be able to help them.”

  Mrs. Helmsley stepped down the hall, approaching Archer the way one might approach an old land mine, unsure if it was still active. She bent down, gave the land mine a kiss on the forehead, and proceeded to study it carefully.

  “Mr. Churnick seems to have been quite the miracle worker,” she said, her hands clasped behind her back. “He told me you were one of the finest students he’s ever had. He even speculated your tendencies were a thing of the past.”

  Tendencies. That was the word Mrs. Helmsley gave to the many things Archer had done that she disapproved of, such as accidentally lighting a dinner party guest on fire. Archer suspected it also had something to do with a similarity between himself and his grandparents, but having never met them, he didn’t know that for sure.