“How do you know about my girdle?” Theo asked anxiously before getting distracted by the rusted blue plane with lopsided wings and cracked windows.
“Let’s just rent a car and take our chances with Mrs. Wellington,” Lulu declared boldly.
“I have to agree with Lulu on this. That thing is a death trap. It doesn’t even have proper wheels, just a couple of Rollerblades glued to the bottom,” Theo exclaimed nervously.
“Chubby, I cannot believe that you and Macaroni are actually wearing parachutes,” Mrs. Wellington said, pointing to the canvas sacks strapped to their backs.
“Scoff all you want to, but these are the wave of the future,” Theo retorted. “And PS, don’t you think there’s a reason they sell them at the gift shop? And by gift shop I mean the homeless man standing by the front door.”
“Theo, Lulu,” Madeleine said calmly, “why don’t I ask the pilot to come out here and answer all your questions? That’s sure to put you at ease.”
Madeleine walked straight onto the tarmac, where she sweetly waved for the pilot of the rusted blue mound to come hither. And though she believed it was her kind face that lured the pilot from the cockpit, it was something else entirely: his curiosity about her shower cap.
Pilot Aronson, a tall and commanding man in his forties, immediately sensed something was amiss upon meeting Lulu and Theo. Of course, it was rather hard to ignore Theo’s Lamaze breathing or Lulu’s nervous twisting of her hair.
“I understand you kids have some questions,” Pilot Aronson said to the School of Fearians.
“I prefer to be called an adult or, at least, an adult-in-training,” Theo said haughtily. “Now for my first question: Has this plane passed the 60716554AD56GFC7 inspection?”
“I’ve been a pilot for twenty years, and I’ve never heard of that.”
“Good,” Theo said, nodding his head. “That was a trick question. There is no such thing as the 60716554AD56GFC7 inspection.”
“What’s the square footage on that thing?” Lulu asked while obsessively licking her lips in reaction to her suddenly dry mouth.
“About two hundred fifty square feet.”
“So about the size of a coffin or a French elevator or another comparable death trap,” Lulu muttered, her face white with fear.
“Even though you appear to know what you’re doing, Pilot Aronson, the bulldog and I will still be wearing parachutes as a precaution,” Theo announced before turning to Lulu. “As a Precaution is another great potential title for my memoir.”
“Stop talking about your memoir. You haven’t even gone through puberty yet!”
“I’ll have you know that just this morning I saw a hair on my chin,” Theo retorted as Lulu rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, it was one of Macaroni’s hairs that just happened to blow onto my face. But if that’s not foreshadowing, what is?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but do you guys have any other questions for me?” Pilot Aronson asked with exasperation.
“Does your flight attendant know CPR?” Theo asked dramatically, raising his eyebrows.
“My flight attendant’s name is Maggie, and yes, she is certified in first aid, including CPR,” Pilot Aronson responded reassuringly.
“Okay, good, but I hope she isn’t the overeager type because I’m saving my first kiss for someone special, if you know what I mean,” Theo said.
“He doesn’t know what you mean. No one knows what you mean. I don’t even think you know what you mean!” Lulu blurted out.
After all the questions were asked and answered, Garrison and Madeleine boarded the plane, followed by Mrs. Wellington, Hyacinth, Abernathy, and Schmidty. Lulu and Theo remained parked on the tarmac, staring up at the rusted mess of metal.
“I don’t think I can do it. It’s so small,” Lulu said as her voice began to quiver.
“But there are windows, Lulu,” Theo said reassuringly. “And you love windows. There are even cracks in some of them, so you’ll have fresh air.”
“No, it’s too tiny.”
“It’s bigger than our bathroom, and you’ve spent more than forty-five minutes in there, so what’s the big deal?”
Lulu looked at Theo sweetly and smiled. “Just when I thought you were an idiot, you had to go and make sense. Come on, let’s do this.”
“Nah, you go ahead. Mac and I are going to sit this one out.”
“What about the great pep talk you just gave me?”
“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“Get on the plane, Fatty! We need you!”
“But Lulu, it already looks like it’s been in a crash! That is not a good sign!”
“Theo, you’re a hall monitor,” Lulu said, feigning seriousness. “Either rise to the occasion or I’m going to have to turn you in to the Board of Ethical Hall Monitors and have your sash revoked.”
Gasping in horror, Theo unfolded his sash and slipped it onto his body while sucking in his belly. Outside of eating, being a hall monitor was Theo’s greatest joy in life, and he had no intention of giving it up.
“Let’s do this!” the boy yelled bravely before performing one of his famous Rumpmaster Funk dance moves.
“Hold that thought,” Lulu muttered as she watched two airport workers struggle to load a large and unusually bulky white canvas sack onto the back of the plane. “Remember that story you told me about the man who hid an alligator in his luggage?”
“Do you think Hyacinth put an alligator in her bag to get back at me for calling Celery a racist?”
“What? You called the ferret a racist?”
“She hates me because I’m fat.”
“For the last time, fat people are not a race!”
“Alligators love fatties; we’ll be dead by takeoff,” Theo mumbled to Macaroni as Lulu sprinted toward the back of the plane.
EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Herpetophopia is the fear
of reptiles.
In reality, there wasn’t an alligator on the plane, but a pig. Stuffed into the large canvas sack was none other than Sylvie Montgomery. The story of the man hiding an alligator had merely given Lulu the idea of a stowaway, and sure enough, she was right. The feisty girl had the baggage handlers remove the wiggling white sack, inside of which the perturbed reporter grunted loudly.
“You can still save yourself, Lulu. Give me the goods on your teacher and I won’t run any of your secrets—not even the one about you shoplifting at the country club.”
“I wasn’t shoplifting! They sold me damaged merchandise then refused to give me my money back! I was merely righting a wrong!”
“I doubt your parents will see it in that light,” Sylvie said as she inhaled loudly through her snout.
“Hey, guys,” Lulu called out to the nearby baggage handlers. “This is trash. Just toss it in the Dumpster!”
After the encounter with Sylvie, Lulu was so angry and preoccupied that she was able to board the plane without incident. Only once the door closed behind her did she begin to hyperventilate from the low ceiling and narrow breadth of the space. After Lulu made a quick escape attempt, Theo and Garrison literally pinned her to her seat while the plane left the ground. Her lungs tightened and her body convulsed with fear. She was trapped. Short of jumping to her death, there was no way out.
After almost ten minutes of straining against both Theo and Garrison, she relaxed. Just as a doctor had once told her, the human body can sustain panic for only so long. Though she was still frightened and shaky, the urge to throw herself out the door had subsided.
Once Theo was free of focusing on Lulu, his own anxiety over the journey returned ferociously. His eyes literally bulged at the sight of exposed wires crawling dangerously along the plane’s walls.
“I really hope these chutes were packed properly. As it is, Mac’s going to have trouble pulling the string without an opposable thumb,” Theo babbled anxiously.
“I wouldn’t worry; the flight is going to be over in a flash,” Madeleine said calmly. “And on th
e bright side, Mrs. Wellington just informed me that all spiders and insects die above ten thousand feet. Isn’t that spectacular?”
Lulu and Garrison immediately turned to Mrs. Wellington, both recognizing that she had lied to Madeleine about elevation killing insects. The old woman merely winked in response.
“Are they going to pass out peanuts soon?” Theo asked while nervously tapping his fingers on his armrest. “I’m starving, and so is Mac!”
“Celery and I are deathly allergic to peanuts, so we would appreciate it if, as a bestie, you would refrain from consuming all peanut products. After all, you wouldn’t want to accidentally kill us.”
“No, we certainly wouldn’t want it to be an accident,” Lulu remarked with a smirk.
“Don’t worry, Hyacinth, Lulu’s been threatening to kill me since I met her, and I’m still alive,” Theo said. “Although who knows for how long, since I’m currently on a plane held together by Scotch tape.”
“Hey there, passengers,” said Maggie, the saucy brunette flight attendant, upon exiting the cockpit in a snug navy uniform. “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but—”
“Then don’t,” Theo interrupted forcefully. “I can’t handle much more! I just saw a piece of the wing break off!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Wings are the tonsils of aviation; no one really needs them,” Maggie explained. “But there is something else…”
However, as fate would have it, before Maggie could inform the passengers of the problem, the plane abruptly descended in a nosedive. So steep and sudden was the drop that all the passengers experienced momentary whiplash, including Macaroni and Celery. As the plane plummeted toward the ground, panic-stricken screams filled the chamber. Yet, even amid the rampant shrieking, one voice set itself apart.
“I don’t want to die!” Abernathy wailed. “My life is just beginning! I finally have friends who aren’t insects!”
Much like a roller coaster, the plane suddenly leveled out before beginning an almost vertical ascent. As the passengers caught their breath, Maggie stood up and attempted to regain her bearings.
“Everyone please remain calm. We are not going to die. Or at least it’s unlikely we’re going to die. Of course, I can’t say it’s totally impossible,” Maggie blathered uneasily.
“Those are not very reassuring words,” Mrs. Wellington snapped. “As a forty-nine-time pageant winner, I demand to know what’s happening!”
“It’s the alligator, isn’t it?” Theo asked, hysterically weeping. “The alligator ate the pilot! There’s no one flying the plane!”
“Just tell us what’s happening!” Garrison screamed at Maggie as the plane tilted from side to side.
“We have reason to believe there’s a person in the engine who’s interfering with the plane’s ability to fly properly.”
“What’s your reason?” Garrison asked impatiently.
“We can see her head popping out from time to time. It’s pretty hot in there, so she’s probably trying to cool down. Unfortunately, every time she moves she hits wires and cylinders, causing the plane to move erratically.”
“What kind of airline are you running here? You let people ride in the engine?” Mrs. Wellington warbled angrily. “I demand a refund!”
“Should we actually survive, I’m open to discussing that,” Maggie said tensely to Mrs. Wellington, only to be answered by the sound of a ferret vomiting.
“Sorry, ferrets are really sensitive to motion. That’s why you rarely see them at amusement parks,” Hyacinth explained, holding the ferret’s small head in a barf bag.
“Oh, that’s why I never see ferrets at Disneyland,” Lulu said with a sarcastic sneer as the plane vibrated violently.
“I’m confused; are we dying or not?” Abernathy squealed in an abnormally high-pitched tone.
“Why? Are you ready to make peace with me?” Mrs. Wellington asked, her face contorting with optimism.
Abernathy responded by looking directly at Mrs. Wellington without either snarling or growling for the first time. With this one simple act, the mood in the plane shifted toward hope and possibility.
“We’re most likely not dying,” Maggie answered. “Pilot Aronson is trying to land the plane without killing us or the stowaway. And the good news is, we’re hoping to crash close to the airfield.”
“That passes for good news? Pathetic,” Theo mumbled while performing a multitude of religious hand gestures. Sadly, he wasn’t sure what half of them meant, or—worse—if he had made them up.
“Am I correct in assuming that the person in the engine has the complexion of bubblegum?” Schmidty asked while diligently holding his comb-over in place; he had a most terrible fear of dying with bad hair.
“How did you know?” Maggie shrieked as the plane once again fell into a steep nosedive.
“Would you ask the pilot to try to crash in an area without any visible signs of bugs or spiders?” Madeleine yelled at Maggie before continuing her silent prayer for survival.
A sound like that of a chain saw cutting through a radiator reverberated as the whole craft pulsated uncontrollably. As instructed by Maggie, the passengers quickly tightened their seat belts and braced for impact. With her life flashing before her eyes, Maggie, a recently ordained Internet minister, prepared to offer last rites. However, before she could even open her mouth, the plane came to a thunderous halt in a clearing.
“Is everyone okay?” Mrs. Wellington asked the group before turning to make direct eye contact with her stepson. “Abernathy?”
All the signs of promise that had been displayed only moments earlier evaporated as Abernathy viciously snarled and growled at Mrs. Wellington.
“I bet you crashed this plane on purpose to try to make me forgive you!”
“I did not,” Mrs. Wellington snapped. “What kind of lunatic do you take me for?”
“The kind who would fake her own death!”
“Who told him that?” Mrs. Wellington demanded angrily of the children.
Hyacinth nodded in Theo’s direction as the boy all but climbed beneath Macaroni’s bulky body.
“Madame, Mister Abernathy,” Schmidty said sternly, “might we continue this altercation outside?”
Just then a loud and most disturbing snorting sound came from the front of the plane and resonated through the chamber. As Pilot Aronson opened the cockpit door, the group saw a flash of Sylvie through the windshield. Rather spectacularly, she was unharmed, aside from minimal bruising.
“Did someone forget to mention that a crazy woman who looks like a pig is stalking them?” Pilot Aronson asked animatedly.
“Yes, now that I think about it, I did forget to mention Sylvie,” Mrs. Wellington said without a tinge of embarrassment. “I can tell you now if you like: there’s a crazy woman who looks like a pig stalking me.”
“How do we plan to get out of here without Sylvie on our tail?” Garrison asked.
“Pilot Aronson, how far are we from the airport?” Lulu inquired, covering her throbbing left eye.
“We’re here.”
“But this is just a dirt field,” Madeleine said, looking out the window.
“Welcome to Sarnacville Airport, also known as a dirt field,” Pilot Aronson announced before returning to the cockpit to radio for help.
“Oh, no, look at all those trees! I bet they’re loaded with creepy crawlers absolutely desperate to torment me,” Madeleine screeched, panicky.
“But why would they want to torment you?” Abernathy squeaked reasonably.
“How should I know? You’re the one who’s friends with them,” Madeleine barked aggressively, or as aggressively as a polite English girl is capable of.
Pilot Aronson quickly returned to the cabin with an important update.
“The pig lady’s foot is stuck in the fan belt, so if you’re looking to make a break for it, now would be a good time.”
“I’ve decided it most prudent that I remain on the plane,” Madeleine stated quietly.
&
nbsp; “Madeleine wants to stay on the plane, I think she is insane, something’s wrong with her brain, let’s order chow mein,” Hyacinth sang inappropriately.
“That sounds like a Top 40 hit to me,” Abernathy said sweetly.
“Insect lover,” Madeleine grumbled at Abernathy. “I don’t care what anyone says; I shall remain here.”
“I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but Mrs. Wellington’s whole spiders-die-at-ten-thousand-feet thing is nonsense. And if you don’t believe me, there’s a huge web behind you to prove it,” Lulu explained seriously to Madeleine.
“How could you?” Madeleine hollered at Mrs. Wellington as she leaped for the door.
Mrs. Wellington quickly surveyed the plane and noted that there wasn’t a web in sight.
“Don’t be so surprised. You’re not the only one who knows how to lie for someone else’s own good,” Lulu said with a smirk.
“Well done, contestant. Although I prefer the term ‘fib’; it’s less likely to be used against you in a court of law,” Mrs. Wellington said as she exited onto the dusty field.
While Sylvie Montgomery could not actually see the group departing the plane, she could definitely smell them. Her spherical snout was sniffing with unbridled intensity as each member marched off the busted mess of metal.
“You won’t escape!” Sylvie screamed, still firmly lodged in the engine. “My nose will find you! You’re only making my story all the more worthy of a Snoopulitzer!”
With Mrs. Wellington and Schmidty in the lead, the group stealthily tiptoed to the edge of the clearing and into a dense cluster of trees. Flowering crab apple and thick-trunked maples beguiled the madcap mob as they rushed down a barely discernible path.
“Do you guys know where you’re going? Because after a plane crash, getting lost in the woods is not high on my wish list,” Lulu groaned to Mrs. Wellington and Schmidty.
“Of course we know where we’re going. We’ve been here more times than a cat can count,” Mrs. Wellington stated, pushing pink-blossomed branches out of her way.