Class Is Not Dismissed! (18 page)

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

“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?”

W
ith 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.

“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.”