“Yes, I know,” the old man said despondently.
“We’re trying to help Mrs. Wellington and you. But we need some information,” Garrison continued in a slightly softer tone.
“This is a serious long shot, Schmidty, but we need to try. We want to try,” Lulu added, “for you and for us. Without School of Fear, who’s going to help us?”
“All right, I’ll help you, but first, may I inquire what this plan is?”
“We are going to get Abernathy to reenroll in school so Mrs. Wellington can help him get better before the article runs. Without Abernathy living in the forest, it’s not such a great story, so maybe the reporter will kill the whole thing,” Garrison explained. “And before you even think it, no, we are not entering the forest. We’re pretty confident he will come to the edge of the woods to watch us, like he did last summer.”
“Since he doesn’t have TV in the forest, I bet he thinks of us as a reality show,” Theo muttered.
“Children, I think it’s terribly kind of you to try to help Madame. I am so touched as well, but I must tell you, this will not work. He will not reenroll in the school, of that I can assure you.”
“How can you be so certain?” Lulu asked, annoyed. “Don’t you even want to try? Or have you already given up?”
“Schmidty, we’re talking about your Madame here. The woman you dote on night and day as if she were your very own flesh and blood. How can you give up so easily?” Garrison said, pushing his blond locks from his face in frustration.
“Oh, I’ve certainly not given up easily, Mister Garrison. I’ve spent decades trying to lure Abernathy back, to push Madame to make it right with him, but it never works; it is simply a lost cause. It’s an awful lesson in the harsh realities of life, but I am afraid not all wrongs can be corrected, no matter how hard we try.”
“Schmidty, I simply cannot comprehend any of this, and I’m regarded as terribly clever. Please, you must explain the entire story from the beginning. We need to understand why you think our chances are so bleak,” Madeleine implored.
“Yes, I suppose you do need to understand. It all began when Abernathy’s mother died just shy of his second birthday. As an only child, he grew increasingly close and emotionally dependent on his father. Abernathy absolutely worshipped the man. The two were utterly inseparable. And in Abernathy’s mind, it never occurred to him that it would ever be any different. It wasn’t until he started primary school that he even learned that widowers often remarried.
“He felt threatened that an imaginary woman might take his father away, and he became terrified of any age-appropriate woman speaking to his father. The boy was completely obsessed. The only women in his father’s age bracket he deemed suitable for dinners or parties were blood relations. And you can imagine how tedious life becomes when your only friends are blood related.”
“Did his father even want to remarry? Was he actively seeking another wife?” Madeleine asked.
“Oh, no. On the contrary, he promised Abernathy he would never marry again, but still the boy worried. He even became phobic of other people’s stepmothers, ending friendships with anyone who had a stepmother or even liked a stepmother or spoke to a stepmother. It was at this time that his father decided something had to be done, that it had become a life-impairing problem. Why, the boy stopped attending his math class when he learned that Mrs. Elfin herself was a stepmother. And Mrs. Elfin was such a lovely woman…”
“So his dad brought him to School of Fear?” Lulu prodded Schmidty, in an effort to keep the story on track.
“Yes, but at that time School of Fear was based in New York City. Of course, School of Fear was not his first stop. Abernathy’s father had gone through a slew of other things, like counselors, hypnotists, shamans, even a very short-lived fad known as clown therapy—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, especially since it takes Schmidty so long to tell a story—which, by the way, is not an insult, just a comment,” Theo said with an oblivious smile. “OK, you and Mrs. Wellington say a lot of cuckoo stuff, and most of the time I just let it fly right by. But in this case, I can’t do it. I cannot go on with my life or your story without knowing—what is clown therapy?”
“I suppose you are too young to remember it. It was awfully controversial in its day,” Schmidty explained. “The Union of Clowns and Mimes protested the clown therapy headquarters for seven months straight. Claimed it was defamatory to clowns everywhere.”
“Yes, but what was it?” Theo persisted.
“Clown therapy was based on the premise that if a clown terrified a child, completely spooked him out of his gourd, the child would become so phobic of clowns that he or she would entirely forget his other fear. For rather obvious reasons, it wasn’t terribly successful. However, as it turns out, one of the clowns was actually a former student of Madame’s, and he was the one who told Abernathy’s father of the highly secretive institution on the Upper East Side, School of Fear.”
“OK, enough about clown therapy,” Lulu said impatiently. “We need to know more about Abernathy.”
“Yes, please, Schmidty,” Madeleine said with a tense smile. “And it’s already terribly late, and as you know, we must, without question, fumigate Summerstone before bed.”
“Haven’t any of you ever wondered what Abernathy’s surname is?” Schmidty asked pointedly.
“The guy lives in the forest. I doubt he flosses his teeth on a regular basis,” Theo said. “So I don’t think he’s using his last name for much.”
Schmidty cleared his throat before speaking. “Abernathy Wellington.”
CHAPTER 22
EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Hylophobia is the fear of forests.
Madeleine, Lulu, Garrison, and Theo didn’t say a word. Why, they didn’t even nod their heads; they simply waited to hear more. This was quite a revelation, and they needed time to process what this meant for their mission. Compassion, confusion, and so much more raced through the children’s heads as they pondered what life would be like with Mrs. Wellington as a stepmother. For in truth, each had taken quite a while to warm to the woman as their teacher.
Schmidty continued. “Love at first sight is such a wondrous and magical occurrence, but in this case it was also fraught with pain and misery. The first time Madame saw Harold and Harold saw Madame, they both knew. It struck them like a truck on the road, just bowled them over. Of course, as Mrs. Wellington was Abernathy’s teacher, they both fought it tooth and nail. But fighting against love only makes it stronger. With each stolen glance or brush of the hand, their love blossomed. Around this time, Abernathy actually began to make progress under Mrs. Wellington’s—or rather, Ms. Hesterfield’s, as she was known then—tutelage. He even started attending Mrs. Elfin’s class again; it was the most wondrous of changes.
“Madame and Abernathy’s father were so struck by the transformation, they both vowed never to act on their love, for the young boy’s sake. These proclamations, among many others, were made in letters the two exchanged. But as I always say, if you write it, someone will surely read it, and Abernathy did just that. And the letter he happened upon was, well, the most romantic of them all, filled with the stuff of movies, a love that couldn’t be stopped but also could never be fulfilled…”
“Then what happened?” Madeleine asked, with all the excitement she had felt during her first reading of Pride and Prejudice.
“The boy combusted, turned himself inside out. And at this point the two decided that marriage was best. Since Abernathy knew, and the damage was done, they decided they ought to marry and conquer the situation as a family matter, not as a school matter. However well-meaning the plan was, it didn’t unfold very well. Abernathy ran away constantly, ending up in dangerous parts of the city, alone on bus benches or sitting at lunch counters. Madame and Harold agreed that perhaps it would be good for Abernathy to have a country retreat, a place where he could run around outside without any concerns, and so Summerstone was built.”
r /> “Did it help?” Garrison asked, intrigued. “Did he chill out?”
“Not really. The boy never spent one night in the house. He wouldn’t share a roof with his father or stepmother… he refused… so for much of the time he simply ran wild on the grounds, sleeping in trees and in flower beds. School of Fear was still located in the city at this time, and Madame and Harold would commute to Summerstone for the weekends, where they would work tirelessly to break through to Abernathy.”
“Wait. They left him alone at Summerstone as a kid?” Lulu asked.
“He was a teenager by then, and he had a caretaker—myself—and a tutor.”
“Who was the tutor?” Theo asked.
“A very odd Dutch man, who I might add was not very intelligent, but then again, it’s not easy to find top tutors willing to conduct lessons in trees. Anyway, Madame continued to cure student after student, but she never made any progress with Abernathy. And as the years wore on, she tried less. It was the day before Abernathy’s eighteenth birthday that Harold died on the train on his way up here. Harold grabbed his chest, mentioned how he wished he had time to get his hair trimmed, and then boom—he was dead. At the funeral, Abernathy sat two plots away in a large oak tree. Few people even knew he was there. After that, he disappeared. Occasionally there would be sightings of him in national parks or forests. Eventually Madame moved the school to Summerstone, and maybe twice we thought we might have seen him near the forest, but we were never certain. It had been so long, and he had aged so poorly. Then, last summer, he arrived and, well, you know the rest.”
“How does he survive? What does he eat? How does he get any money?” Garrison asked.
“We haven’t the faintest idea,” Schmidty confessed. “Children, I won’t stop you from going tomorrow, for I think it the kindest, most wonderful thing anyone has ever attempted on Madame’s behalf. However, I must ask you not to mention a word of it to Madame. Since success is more than a long shot, I can’t bear the idea of upsetting her even more.”
“Of course, Schmidty,” Lulu said. “We won’t say a word.”
“I must retire now; this day has more than taken its toll on me. I hope you understand, Miss Madeleine, how much I wish I was up for spider and beetle corralling, but I am simply too drained by the day’s events.”
“I most certainly understand, Schmidty. And thank you so much for sharing that story with us. We will work our absolute hardest to bring Abernathy home tomorrow,” Madeleine said with a smile. Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her eyes. “Oh, and Schmidty, should you remember any more details of Mr. and Mrs. Wellington’s love letters, feel free to share them with me—only if appropriate, of course.”
“Jeesh, Maddie,” Theo said, shaking his head. “Don’t they have the Lifetime channel in London?”
“Oh, Theo,” Madeleine said huffily, “your idea of romance is a cheese sandwich and crisps.”
Theo did not dispute this fact. In truth, he would prefer a sandwich to almost anything—except safety, of course.
“Goodnight, children. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning.” And with that the old man waddled away.
With Schmidty’s departure, Madeleine’s romance-riddled brain snapped back to attention and she began smothering herself in repellent again. She sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed until she was literally drenched.
“Maddie, I’m dying here,” Garrison whined. “Seriously, I’m developing asthma from sitting next to you.”
“Don’t joke about asthma, Garrison,” Theo said harshly. “It’s a very serious condition, and I should know. My cat has it; he has a little kitty inhaler and everything.”
“Enough about asthma and your cat,” Lulu snapped. “All he meant was that Maddie needs to stop spraying. It’s too much. There are puddles of repellent around her shoes.”
“There are one hundred massive brown-and-burgundy spiders inside, and one hundred beetles. I cannot take any chances. The only hope I have is to exude repellent from my pores. I haven’t been spraying in almost a year. I don’t have the buildup in my system that I once did. Do you realize what I am facing? It’s an army of creepy-crawlers!”
“Don’t worry, Madeleine, we are totally going to catch them all,” Lulu said. “I mean, Summerstone isn’t that big…”
“Plus, there are only ninety-nine spiders, because you killed one on your head, remember?”
“Yes, Theo, I do remember—quite vividly, as a matter of fact,” Madeleine responded as a shiver ran up her spine.
“Me too. That imprint was so detailed, kind of like a photograph on your forehead. All the tiny hairs on the spider’s legs, the weird bumps, the eyes… you could see everything,” Theo said slowly.
“Theo, stop talking,” Lulu protested, shaking her head at the chubby boy.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
As soon as Theo closed his mouth, a sweaty-faced Madeleine leaned to her left and vomited.
“Oh, dear, I am so embarrassed. That must have been dreadful for all of you. I assure you I would have moved had I had the time…” Madeleine trailed off, her cheeks rosy.
“Maddie, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even my fault. Lulu clearly should have stopped me earlier,” Theo said judgmentally, as the group migrated away from the stench.
“Don’t start with me, Chunker. I’m tired and hungry, and we are very close to a cliff.”
“Point taken,” Theo said quietly.
“Thank heavens you haven’t regressed too much, Maddie. Imagine if you had gone all crazy like last summer?” Lulu said sarcastically, watching Madeleine fiddle with her shower cap and veil.
“Honestly, Lulu, you really can be a sour girl. And might I remind you that you yourself do not ride alone in elevators, and even on occasion fake going to the loo to mislead your parents?”
“Guess I kind of deserved that. Sorry,” Lulu said, looking down.
“This whole thing is dreadful. Frankly, I cannot understand how I’m even in this scenario. How on earth did this happen to me?” Madeleine asked the group rhetorically.
“Hyacinth, the Knapps, bad luck… pretty much covers it all,” Theo said as he paused to put his hand on his chest. “I think that cheese is repeating on me. Does that happen to anyone else?”
Everyone stared at Theo, unsure how he managed to get the conversation to this point.
“Maddie, the good news is that Schmidty already captured fourteen beetles and seventeen spiders,” Garrison explained to a distraught Madeleine.
“Oh, how lovely! Did he kill them? Is he positive they are deceased?”
“He put them back in their jars, and triple-checked that the lids were closed tightly.”
“Very well,” Madeleine said with mild disappointment. “Although I cannot promise such compassion should any of them come within spraying distance.”
“Got it,” Garrison said with a nod of the head. “Are we ready, then?”
“Shouldn’t we stretch or something first?” Theo asked. “Maybe a little warmup? Discuss trapping techniques?”
“Theo, this isn’t the Olympics. It’s not going to be that strenuous or complicated. You see a spider or a beetle, throw it in a small jar, then transport it back to the B and B and mark the tally,” Garrison said.
“Wow, I expected more out of you, Garrison. I thought team captains were known for their pep talks. No wonder you guys didn’t take state in basketball this year. What did you tell your teammates—‘Hey, it’s just a ball, get it in the net’?” Theo said in a high-pitched girly voice.
“First of all, I don’t sound like that. And you want a pep talk?” Garrison said with exponentially growing annoyance. “Fine!” he continued, running his fingers through his long blond locks and closing his eyes. When he reopened them, a cooler, calmer, more collected Garrison had emerged. “This is a challenge, one of many we will face in the next twenty-four hours. But when we go out there, whether it be to find bugs or to find Abernathy, we cannot worry about oursel
ves. We cannot think about our own sacrifices, for we are doing this for our friends, Madeleine and Mrs. Wellington. We will catch these spiders and beetles because Madeleine needs us to. We will do this for her because she’s our friend, and a good one at that. No, I take that back, she’s a great one. And so is Mrs. Wellington.”
“That was beautiful, just beautiful. I’d like you to give the eulogy at my funeral, should you outlive me,” Theo said, dabbing his eyes.
“Way to be weird, Theo,” Lulu said as she started toward the massive front door. “Let’s do this. We don’t have much time if we’re going to get any sleep before tomorrow.”
Lulu entered the foyer quietly, tiptoeing across the wooden planks. Theo, directly behind her, plopped around noisily, banging things with his hands as he walked.
“Theo, stop being so loud. You’ll frighten them away,” Lulu whispered.
“Or frighten them out of their hiding spots? Lulu, don’t worry about me. I’ve got plans. Or rather a plan. And everyone knows you need only one good plan. I’ve got mine—make some noise, draw them out of their comfort zones, then swoop in. But no killing. That doesn’t work with my whole vegetarian thing…”
“Will you stop talking and start catching?” Lulu said as she pushed Theo toward the Great Hall.
“I got one,” Garrison said loudly as he pushed a large brown-and-burgundy spider into his jar.
“I feel a bit green,” Madeleine said when she saw the large furry creature. “Perhaps I’ll wait outside with Macaroni. We really haven’t had much time for a proper catchup,” she said as she ran back to the front door.
Garrison figured the spiders and beetles would only have been able to squeeze into rooms with doors that were either ajar or had a wide space between the floor and the door bottom. This narrowed the list down to the ballroom, the Library of Smelly Foods, the kitchen, dining room, polo field, and living quarters. Lulu took the foyer and upstairs, while Theo and Garrison started on the rooms off the Great Hall.