School of Fear

  “Children, trust me, this won’t be an issue once the will is read. Garrison, if you wouldn’t mind starting,” Schmidty interrupted.

  Both Munchauser and Schmidty watched Garrison with the utmost confidence as he quickly unwrapped the intricately tied pink envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The handwritten will was hardly a surprise, as Mrs. Wellington was hesitant of technology such as computers.

  “ ‘I, Edith Wellington, of enviable style and overwhelming charisma, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament expressly revoking all wills and codicils heretofore made by me. To the Impoverished Pageant Scholarship Fund, I bequeath all my wigs, dentures, girdles, false eyelashes, acrylic nails, makeup, crowns, sashes, and vats of Vaseline. To both the Bald Brothers Institute and the Comb-Over Collective, I bequeath five hundred thousand dollars in the name of my late best friend, Schmidty. No other man so dedicatedly displayed the dangers of male hair loss. To my attorney, Leonard Munchauser, I bequeath the amount of one dollar, which, as you may recall, you bet me at our first meeting, absolutely sure that you would die first. Well, you were wrong. And may I add that had you been right, I would have no one to pay, since you would be dead. All remaining cash and assets, including Summerstone, stocks, bonds, and CDs, I bequeath to my beloved dog, Macaroni.’ ”

  CHAPTER 22

  EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:

  Somniphobia is the fear of sleep.

  Garrison and the others had fallen asleep long before dinner, utterly drained from the horrors of the day. The arrival of Munchauser, the Abernathy parade, Mrs. Wellington’s death, and finally the reading of the will were more than most could handle in a year, let alone a day. By 11:00 PM, both Munchauser and Schmidty had retired for the night, leaving Summerstone in sheer darkness.

  Having always been a light sleeper, Garrison immediately woke when he felt a tickle on his forearm. Without opening his eyes, he swatted what he presumed to be a fly and tried to fall back to sleep. Seconds later, he felt the same soft tickle on his arm, prompting him to sit up in bed.

  “Mr. Garrison,” a weak voice whispered.

  “Schmidty?”

  “Shhh … we must keep our voices down.”

  “What are you doing on the floor?” Garrison asked, peering over the edge of his bed. Lying flat on his back, clad in striped pajamas and a sleeping cap, was Schmidty. And if that wasn’t strange enough, he was carrying a long feather duster in his hand. Garrison smiled kindly at the old man.

  “Maybe I should wake Madeleine or Theo,” Garrison offered, believing that either one of them would be better equipped to handle Schmidty’s grief.

  “No. No. I must speak with you. You’re the only one I trust to handle this.”

  “Okay,” Garrison relented. “Back when my Uncle Spencer died, I thought I’d never get over it, but with time …” Garrison trailed off, struggling to find the right words to reassure Schmidty.

  “Mr. Garrison, please. We don’t have time for psychoanalysis. I’ve just spent the last twenty-five minutes pulling my body down the hall like a very bloated snake.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s the only way I could be sure not to bump into something and wake Munchauser. I can barely see in the daytime, let alone at night.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Munchauser is up to something. He dismantled the crane after you kids went to bed. I saw him through the telescope; he threw the hook off the mountain. He doesn’t know I saw anything because when he returned to the house, I pretended I had been grooming Madame the whole time.”

  “That’s a lot of makeup, even for Mrs. Wellington.”

  “Mr. Garrison!” Schmidty huffed.

  “Sorry.”

  “When Munchauser returned he spent the rest of the night examining the will. Reading it over and over again.”

  “I wouldn’t worry, Schmidty; unless he can morph into Mac, there isn’t a whole lot he can do.”

  “No, Mr. Garrison, you’re wrong. When an animal inherits money, there always has to be a guardian. Someone put in charge of the animal and the trust.”

  “Oh, well, that’s obviously going to be you.”

  “No, the will didn’t stipulate who the guardian was; all Munchauser has to do is take Mac. Don’t you see, he’ll get everything? Summerstone and Mac are all I have left. I can’t let him take them. Please, I need your help.”

  “Schmidty, he’s more than twice my size. I don’t think I can take him.”

  “Dear Mr. Garrison, not that! I need you to help me get Mac out of here. At first light, I want you and the others to bring Mac to the dining room. I’m going to smuggle you out of the Dire Disaster Door. It will drop you in Munchauser’s bunker at the base of the mountain. Then all you have to do is follow the road into town.”

  “Are you going to come with us?”

  “No, I need to act like everything is normal, distract Munchauser for as long as possible so he doesn’t know you’ve gone.”

  “What about Abernathy?”

  “He won’t leave the forest, and Mr. Garrison, under no circumstances are you to enter the forest.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Now you’ll need some things for the journey, just as a precaution, should you run into any problems along the way. Take this list,” Schmidty said as he passed a folded white note to Garrison.

  “I can’t read it in the dark.”

  “Don’t worry, once you get to the Great Hall, you’ll be able to light a candle without Munchauser seeing.”

  “Okay, I’ll get the others.”

  “No, wait. Give me thirty minutes to pull myself back to my room so I’ll be able to intercept him in case he gets out of bed.”

  “He’s in Mrs. Wellington’s room?”

  “Yes, he said he wanted to be reminded of her essence, but I’m quite sure he’s in there pilfering odds and ends to pawn.”

  “Schmidty, I have a question. And I need you to think very hard before you answer. Is there any water —” Garrison stopped mid-sentence, ashamed that he was thinking of himself at a time like this.

  “No. The road stays clear of the river. You’ll be fine. I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but I have no choice.”

  “Don’t worry, Schmidty, we won’t let anything happen to you or Mac.”

  Schmidty quietly rolled onto his stomach and began pulling his rotund body toward the door. Perhaps it was Garrison’s nerves or his fatigue, but he had never known time to move so excruciatingly slowly. Unable to wait, Garrison attempted to read the list but couldn’t make out more than a few letters. He glanced at the clock; it had only been three minutes.

  Garrison concentrated on Theo’s and Macaroni’s breathing, counting the seconds between each inhalation. The two had unconsciously synchronized their breaths while lying side by side. He worried how Theo would absorb the news of Macaroni’s precarious status, let alone the journey into town. Rather intelligently, Garrison decided to wait until after he had the girls in tow to wake Theo, who hadn’t spoken since Mrs. Wellington’s unfortunate passing.

  Just when Garrison thought he could wait no more, the clock struck midnight. He released an irritated sigh and threw back the bedspread. The fear of knocking into something and waking Munchauser made Garrison second-guess every shadow. It took him nearly five times as long as it normally would to pass through the bathroom and enter the girls’ room. Luckily, the return trip with the girls was much faster, having already completed the course once.

  Standing around the bed, the three of them watched Theo and Macaroni exhale at precisely the same moment.

  “Lulu, cover Theo’s mouth in case he screams. Maddie, I think he’d take the news best from you.”

  “All right,” Madeleine acquiesced, “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Are we really going to do all this for a dog?” Lulu asked.

  “Yes,” Garrison huffed before turning to Madeleine. “You need to lift the veil. Sometime
s it can freak people out when they’re not expecting it.” Garrison thought back to the first time he saw Madeleine on the bus from Pittsfield.

  Lulu hated the feel of Theo’s warm breath on her hand, but she agreed that there was a good chance of him screaming, especially after the day he’d had.

  “Um, what are you waiting for? He’s drooling all over my hand,” Lulu barked at Madeleine, who quickly shook Theo’s arm while gently saying his name.

  “Theo, Theo, Theo. Wake up. Theo.”

  Theo’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the three of them gathered around his bed. However, impressively, he didn’t try to scream. Once that was established, Lulu removed her hand and wiped it aggressively against Theo’s comforter.

  After learning that Macaroni and Schmidty were in danger, Theo instantaneously rose to the occasion. Well, technically he asked to go home first, but after being denied by Garrison, he happily rose to the occasion. Theo agreed to join them on the mission downstairs. Apparently, the idea of Munchauser destroying Mrs. Wellington’s legacy by selling off Summerstone and evicting Schmidty was enough to get Theo fully talking again. He even offered to carry Macaroni down the stairs, but rescinded the offer after attempting to lift the fifty-plus-pound dog.

  “We’re in this together. Right?” Garrison whispered to the group as they prepared to exit the boys’ bedroom. “No one falls behind.”

  Unaccustomed to this sort of pep talk, the three responded to Garrison’s encouragement with weak nods.

  Garrison, Lulu, Madeleine, Macaroni, and Theo tiptoed out of the boys’ room at exactly seven past midnight. Garrison led the pack down the shadowy hall to the top of the stairs. Unfortunately, as the group descended, the wooden planks creaked loudly under their feet and paws. The house was so incredibly silent that it was hard to gauge just how loud the stairs were and if they could actually wake Munchauser.

  Nervous about letting Schmidty down, Garrison paused to think before deciding to walk as close to the wall as possible. The floorboards still moaned, but much less. After a few steps, Garrison heard a scratching sound, followed by a waft of sulfur and a flash of light.

  “What are you doing?” Garrison whispered angrily to Madeleine.

  “It’s a bug-repelling candle. Spiders love the dark, plus it will help us see.”

  “What if Munchauser gets up and sees the candlelight?” Garrison stuttered.

  “It’s better than one of us falling. Munchauser will definitely get up then,” Madeleine responded firmly. “Or worse, if a spider lands on me, I’ll scream bloody murder.”

  “I don’t even like candles, but I think Madeleine’s right, we need the light,” Theo said diplomatically.

  “Fine,” Garrison relented.

  “Seriously, if someone gives me a candle as a gift, I always send a note thanking them for putting a lethal weapon into my sweet, innocent young hands. I consider it a public service.”

  “Theo, I’m glad that you’re speaking again, but this is really not the time,” Lulu said with irritation. “And who in the world is giving you candles?”

  The group tiptoed through the pink foyer, past the multitude of pageant pictures, to the start of the Great Hall. The tick-tock of the clock echoed loudly in the children’s ears as they read Schmidty’s list.

  Garrison —

  The following things are needed to get you safely into town. I’ve left a satchel in the kitchen to pack these items for the journey.

  SNACKS — In order to get Theo and Mac to town they will need sustenance. Neither one of them are at their most cooperative when they haven’t eaten.

  MADAME’S POTENT SMELLY STONES — To be used in case of an emergency. These can immobilize a person for at least two minutes.

  GREENLAND FUNGUS — A fast and thorough disguise that will help you blend into any green background.

  MACARONI’S SHOES — he has a strange aversion to the sensation of cobblestone on his paws. His favorite yellow booties are in the back of the utensil drawer in the kitchen.

  Be brave. Words cannot describe my gratitude to the four of you.

  Schmidty

  While Garrison surveyed the list with the girls, Theo rubbed his temples to release the tension. Standing directly atop the loudly ticking clock in the floor, Theo began to pace anxiously. The clock was the first door in the Great Hall and one of the few located in the floor rather than the walls. As Theo trod gently over the clock, his right foot hit the clock’s metal edge, cracking it open ever so slightly. Theo used his foot to further open the clock door. Silver wheels, pins, bolts, and coils shimmered in the candlelight.

  Lulu, Madeleine, and Garrison joined Theo to inspect the hatch when an excruciating pain pierced their eardrums. It was the loudest sound they had ever encountered, pure auditory torture. The children grabbed their ears as Macaroni howled in agony. Dogs have vastly superior hearing to humans, thus making Macaroni’s pain all the more intense.

  The auditory feedback echoed through the hall, bouncing from door to wall to window and back. Theo buzzed with reverberations as he threw his body against the clock door. Maybe it was the lasting effect of the clamor, but it wasn’t until Madeleine, Lulu, and Garrison pushed against Theo that he could close the door.

  Similar to the effects of a stun gun, the sound left the children and Macaroni completely still. Ringing swished from their brains to their inner ears to their middle ears and finally their outer ears. It was a massively debilitating experience for all involved. Theo, for instance, would normally bawl at being trapped beneath three bodies. However, the sound left him so dazed, he merely shut his eyes. Lulu, who lay on top of Madeleine, pushed Garrison off her before wobbling to her feet for exactly one point five seconds. She then collapsed in a pile next to the others.

  Garrison carefully avoided Lulu’s body when he attempted to stand and regain his bearings. After years of playing sports, he was accustomed to being tackled, though nothing could compare to the throbbing in his temples. As the blood began to drain from Garrison’s head, a frightening thought suddenly dawned on him: Munchauser must have heard the noise.

  “Get up! Get up! We have to get upstairs!”

  From beneath Madeleine’s veil, Garrison saw a green complexion. She was clearly on the precipice of a barf attack. Garrison pulled Madeleine off Theo while trying to ignore the intense pounding in his head.

  “That’s what they should have used on Manuel Antonio Noriega Moreno,” Madeleine babbled incoherently to Garrison.

  “Maddie’s delirious,” Garrison said to the others.

  “No, I’m not,” Madeleine said defiantly, or as defiantly as she could without vomiting. “He was a Panamanian dictator; the U.S. blasted rock music to get him to leave the Apostolic Nunciature, where he was hiding out.”

  “How on Earth do you know this?” Lulu asked from the floor.

  “I read a lot. Don’t feel bad, it’s terribly hard for my peers to keep up.”

  “The ringing, the ringing. Will it ever stop?” Theo asked, removing his hands from his ears.

  “It’s already been a minute or so. Why isn’t Munchauser down here?” Madeleine asked reasonably.

  “There’s no way he didn’t hear that,” Lulu retorted, “even if he sleeps with earplugs.”

  “My ears are still ringing. Do you think this is permanent?” Theo moaned. “I’ll be deaf within the hour. I’m the new Helen Keller.”

  “Except you can see and hear!” Lulu angrily exploded.

  “Not for long.”

  “You are such an overreactor,” Lulu said with an eye roll.

  “Enough!” Garrison insisted. “We don’t have time for this. Madeleine and I are going to take Mac to pack food and get his shoes. Can I trust you two to grab the smelly stones and fungus?”

  “I wouldn’t trust me,” Theo said honestly. “Maybe to conduct a safety lesson, but even that I could mess up.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Lulu said confidently as she pulled Theo toward the library.

>   The Library of Smelly Foods was easy to navigate, as the jar they went in search of sat alone on the bronze shelf. Theo, against his better judgment, agreed to climb the ladder attached to the wall to claim the stones. He pushed himself along the wall, getting closer and closer to the little jar, approximately three times the size of a thimble. Of course, every few seconds, Theo felt it necessary to pause and shoot terrified looks to Lulu.

  “Would you stop that? You’re not going to fall.”

  “How do you know? I must be at least fifty feet off the ground. I could easily slip and die.”

  “Try ten feet, and if you’re so afraid of heights, here’s an idea: stop looking down!”

  “Don’t yell at me. This is very stressful. I’m like an air traffic controller up here!”

  “Theo, I’ve barely slept; are you sure you want to test my patience today?”

  “Way to offer sympathy, Lulu.”

  Now in arm’s reach of the miniature jar, Theo closed his eyes and leaned to the right. After feeling around for a few seconds, Theo’s chubby fingers stumbled upon the glass jar. He quickly leaned back, adjusted his grip on the ladder, and opened his eyes. The small, irregularly shaped yellow stones were crammed tightly in the jar.

  “Don’t drop the jar; Mrs. Wellington said the stones are the smelliest things in the entire library.”

  “Would you tell an air traffic controller not to screw up because the fate of millions was in his hands? No, because you wouldn’t want to make him more nervous than he already was, especially if his palms sweat when he’s nervous.”

  “So let me get this straight, you’re the air traffic controller with sweaty palms?” Lulu huffed in frustration.

  Theo groaned with annoyance while descending the ladder with one hand.

  “I am serious, Theo, you cannot drop that!” Lulu screeched. “I almost died when she opened that steak. Just thinking about it makes me sick!”