The Final Exam (21 page)

“What have you killed before?” Theo inquired nervously.

“Snails, but it was a total accident. They crawled right in front of my golf cart. But since I’d stolen the cart, I couldn’t stop and do mouth-to-mouth.”

“This place should be renamed the Convict Conservatory. We’re looking at the future criminals of America right here,” Theo announced judgmentally to Lulu.

“Thanks,” Fitzy said with a nod before he and the other Contrarians wandered off into the night.

“He
would
think that’s a compliment,” Theo mumbled as he and Lulu made their way back to the Contrary Conservatory.

Upon entering the house, Theo and Lulu discovered the other School of Fearians eavesdropping through the Standing-Room-Only Sitting Room door. Ever the snoops, they immediately joined their classmates, eagerly pressing their ears against the wood.

“Celery wants to know if you could possibly breathe any louder?” Hyacinth whispered as she strained to hear over Theo’s bulldog-like panting.

“Well, excuse me for having a deviated septum!”

“Did you get anything out of the Contrarians?” Garrison asked Lulu, totally ignoring both Hyacinth and Theo.

“Does a headache count?” Lulu replied, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s hard to believe, but they actually might be dumber than we previously thought and, surprisingly, that’s not a good thing.”

The sound of Basmati’s voice instantly silenced the School of Fearians.

“You are despicable! You hate your own stepson!” Basmati screeched at a near-deafening decibel level.

“That is entirely untrue! I never said any such thing!
Nor did I have an affair with an alien!” Mrs. Wellington replied furiously.

“Oh, stop lying! That alien was the love of your life! It was Abernathy’s father you hated!” Basmati countered fiercely.

The impact of such a statement momentarily silenced everyone.

“She would never have said she hated my father. Me, maybe, but never my father,” Abernathy said weakly, clearly exhausted by the dueling eccentrics.

“You are my husband’s son; I could no more hate you than I could hate him,” Mrs. Wellington choked out, her voice overwhelmed with emotion.

“Wow, Basmati knows what he’s doing,” Lulu whispered with great surprise.

“Does this mean the plan’s actually going to work?” Madeleine asked skeptically.

“I think so,” Garrison replied optimistically.

“High fives all around!” Hyacinth said excitedly.

And so the group happily slapped hands before making their way downstairs, blissfully unaware what the night had in store for them.

A
t exactly 2:38
AM
a figure shrouded in darkness slipped silently into the Contrary Conservatory’s subterranean basement. The silhouette crept cautiously on tiptoes toward the mound of sleeping School of Fearians. Macaroni, sandwiched between Lulu and Garrison, once again proved his complete and utter ineptitude as a watchdog. Not only did he fail to bark, he failed to even wake up as the sinister figure stood watch over the unsuspecting students. Rather shockingly, the first to
take notice of the intruder was none other than the ferret. However, due to some unresolved issues over Hyacinth’s inaccurate translations of her chirps, Celery decided against waking her owner.

The shadowy stranger cast a large fishing net over the slumbering students and animals. Of course, as Madeleine slept upright, the net settled atop her head, creating an inadvertent tent. In a most disturbing coincidence, this act occurred just as Madeleine dreamed of being ambushed by a gargantuan spider. Caught unceremoniously between a nightmare and a confusing reality, Madeleine panicked. Convinced that a monstrous spider was fast approaching, she decided upon a most unlikely form of self-defense: kung fu. Madeleine had never so much as taken a lesson, but she had once spent an entire night watching Jackie Chan films with her cousin Chester.

“What’s happening?” Lulu screamed groggily as Madeleine’s arms and legs whipped around inside the tent.

“It’s Spidzilla!” Madeleine shrieked as she continued her aggressive assault on the imaginary spider.

“Oh, no, I’m a dolphin trapped in a fishing net!”
Theo moaned, clearly still half asleep. “I need to get back in the water before I die!”

“What water?” Garrison screamed. “Did the pipes burst?”

“We need to get out of here!” Lulu hollered.

“This is the craziest bestie bonding ever,” Hyacinth squealed energetically as the chaos continued.

After realizing that the pipes hadn’t actually burst, Garrison navigated his way through the sea of arms and legs and out from under the net. Recalling the location of the light switch from memory, he clumsily felt around the wall. Seconds later light burst into the dark room like an atomic explosion. As the children’s eyes adjusted, they focused in on the intruder. Standing before them in pink pajamas and a butchered wig was their teacher, Mrs. Wellington.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on, or do I need to start yelling?” Garrison exploded, clearly annoyed by the late-night visit.

Mrs. Wellington’s lips turned crimson as she stared intently at Garrison. Feeling terribly ill at ease, the boy removed the net and rejoined his peers on the floor. As
the old woman continued to stare at her students, Schmidty shuffled sleepily into the basement.

“My apologies, children. Madame insisted on waking you up with a fishing net. And as usual I haven’t the faintest idea as to the logic behind such behavior.”

“It’s terribly simple, old man; my contestants are acting like a bunch of scared little goldfish, so I decided to treat them as such.”

Perched before them with her right knee bent and her left hand on her hip, Mrs. Wellington emitted such raw emotion that the students momentarily looked away. Anger, disappointment, and anxiety appeared to be exploding from each and every inch of the old woman’s crinkled skin.

“I have long considered you a special lot, a group of all-stars, a league of students different from the rest. Courageous, intelligent, and loyal, you stood apart. You were ready and willing to battle anything to conquer your fears. And with this in mind, I made a promise to Basmati. But somehow, here I am, standing before you… painfully aware that I was mistaken.”

“Oh, no!” Madeleine gasped, absolutely heartbroken. “What have we done?”

Madeleine had long prided herself on being a first-rate student, one who never misses an assignment or disappoints a teacher.

“In the short time since we have arrived at the Contrary Conservatory, Basmati has progressed in leaps and bounds with Abernathy, pushing him to the very edge of forgiveness. And you have done nothing but give in to your fears, inadvertently sabotaging the mission. Toothpaste is a talking canary; how hard could it possibly be to find him?” Mrs. Wellington shouted, literally frothing at the mouth.

“Madame, please try to remain calm.”

“If you don’t find that bird by tomorrow at sundown, Basmati will forever turn Abernathy against me. And he is not a man to be trifled with; he takes his agreements as seriously as I do my makeup. With a few slips of the tongue he could annihilate any future chances with my stepson. And in case you’ve forgotten, without Abernathy’s forgiveness, I lose the school.”

“I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t understand. Basmati has made tremendous progress with Abernathy, and yet you think he might turn him back against you?” Madeleine asked, clearly confused by the logic of the situation.

“Basmati’s an absolute genius at mimicking people’s handwriting; he could write up a few horrid letters and destroy all chances of reconciliation with Abernathy within minutes!”

“But is Basmati really that heartless?” Theo inquired. “I thought you guys have known each other for years.”

“In the words of Basmati, a deal is a deal is a deal is a deal is a deal is a deal—”

“Yes, Madame,” Schmidty interrupted. “I’m quite sure we get the point.”

“I understand why you’re angry, but honestly, Mrs. Wellington, we’ve been trying! Today we followed the Contrarians for hours, and not once did they check on Toothpaste. It just doesn’t make sense,” Lulu said with frustration.

“The contestants I know, or at least the ones I thought I knew, would find a way—they wouldn’t just give in to their weaknesses. What happened to my warriors? I thought you were going to save the school, not just for yourselves, but for all the other kids like you,” Mrs. Wellington said solemnly before sashaying out of the basement.

The School of Fearians winced at the sound of the
door closing. They actually felt their teacher’s disappointment, much like a slap to the face. Ashamed of their own cowardice, all five of them directed their gaze at the floor.

“Children, I think it best for you all to try to get some sleep now. If we are to find Toothpaste and face Sylvie Montgomery tomorrow, we need to be well rested,” Schmidty told them. Then, after a few sweet smiles and nods of his head, he prepared to trek back upstairs to the attic.

“Schmidty?” Garrison called out as the old man reached the top of the basement stairs.

“Yes?”

“We’re sorry we let you down.”