The Final Exam (16 page)

“My throat feels funny. I think some of these mushrooms could be poisonous,” Theo whimpered, frightened, as he looked at the walls.

“Are you sure it’s the mushrooms?” Garrison asked skeptically. “Because I don’t feel anything, and I’m breathing the same air you are.”

“I almost died from eating a moldy mushroom once, so excuse me if I’m a little sensitive!”

“Why would you ever eat a moldy mushroom?” Garrison asked incredulously.

“I thought it was blue cheese… and I love blue cheese.”

“Celery doesn’t think anyone should eat moldy food, unless of course they’re homeless and have no choice. Sadly, homelessness is a big problem in the ferret community. Ever since the economy tanked people have been leaving their ferrets to fend for themselves. And they can’t just Dumpster-dive like cats and dogs do; ferrets are total food snobs.”

“I don’t have time to worry about homeless ferrets!”
Theo lamented dramatically. “What if toxic mushroom spores stunt my development? I’m counting on a significant growth spurt to spread out my chunk!”

“Theo,” Madeleine said firmly, “I assure you, mushroom spores will not harm you. Your fears are wholly unfounded, scientifically speaking, so please calm down.”

“Thank you Maddie,” Theo blustered as he caught his breath.

“Now on to more pressing issues. As I’m sure you’re aware, basements are well known hideouts for spiders, especially black widows,” Madeleine said as she surveyed the shadowy corners of the room.

“Don’t worry, Maddie, we’ll be fine on the ground,” Garrison said feebly, once again looking over their dreary accommodations. “Of course, we’re sleeping under rusted pipes that could burst at any second, possibly drowning us to death in the basement of the Contrary Conservatory. But other than that there’s nothing to worry about…”

“The floor is a creepy-crawly highway, and I have absolutely no intention of putting my body in the middle of it!” Madeleine exploded, clinging hysterically to her shower cap. “I’m just going to have to sleep standing up.”

“That’s physically impossible,” Theo replied, shaking his head knowingly. “My late cat Barney tried to do it at least twice a day, and he never lasted more than a second.”

“With all due respect for your deceased cat Barney, if a flamingo can do it, so can I!” Madeleine announced decisively.

“This is going to be so fun! Our first bestie sleepover in a basement!” Hyacinth said elatedly.

“It looks more like a dungeon than a basement to me,” Lulu said as her chest tightened and her left eye tickled with tension. She didn’t want to sleep in a windowless room, especially one below ground level. Panic pulsed through her body until she suddenly remembered the harrowing plane ride earlier that afternoon. Having survived such a thing had given Lulu an odd sensation, one of confidence in her abilities. If she could handle a plane the size of a bathroom, she could spend one night in a basement.

All in all, though, it was a dreadfully fitful night for the School of Fearians. For in addition to the dingy locale, they also had to contend with Macaroni’s snoring and Celery’s chirping. It is a little-known fact that ferrets, like
humans, often talk in their sleep. So it was hardly a surprise that the students awoke with bloodshot eyes and tortured expressions. Basmati, on the other hand, rose contentedly, with an extraordinary sense of purpose. Not since the abduction of Toothpaste had he bounded out of bed so quickly.

After combing his half a mustache and half a head of hair and smoothing his one eyebrow, Basmati eagerly attended to Abernathy. Dressed in a flamboyant red sequined jacket, a nun’s wimple, a tartan kilt, and sensible white nurse’s shoes, Basmati led Mrs. Wellington’s stepson to the Court of Lawlessness. Seated at the judge’s bench, Basmati pulled two saltine crackers and a can of whipped cream from his jacket. Most curiously, he considered this to be a perfectly well-balanced breakfast.

As Abernathy quietly chewed the last of his cracker and cream, Basmati lifted his eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“Abernathy, I’ve been informed that you detest your stepmother, Edith Wellington,” Basmati said, speaking with the calm focus of a prosecutor questioning a defendant.

“I despise the woman with every fiber of my being,”
Abernathy screeched harshly while wiping the remnants of whipped cream from his gray cheek.

“Murder is hard to forgive,” Basmati replied casually, rubbing the bald half of his head.

“She killed someone?” Abernathy blurted out, utterly astonished by this new information.

“Of course she did! Edith Wellington killed you—or haven’t you heard? That’s why you’re so furious with her; you’re dead. Dead people are always angry. But who can blame them? They’re dead!”

“I admit that I’m a really confused man, but I’m pretty sure I’m alive.”

“Ohhhhh, I see,” Basmati said, nodding his head to convey his understanding. “You may want to look into some blusher or bronzer; your gray skin tone can be misleading.”

Abernathy looked uncomfortably around at the highly polished wooden walls of the courtroom, unsure how to respond to the suggestion of makeup.

“So you’re alive, and you hate your stepmother for sending you to prison or, as I like to call it, the big house with bars and really cold metal toilets,” Basmati surmised, pursing his lips.

“What? I’ve never been to prison! I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket! I have no idea where you are getting these ideas from. The truth is very simple: I hate
her
because she stole my father from me,” Abernathy clarified loudly.

“Mrs. Wellington kidnapped him? I didn’t think she had it in her. Petty larceny, sure, but a felony?”

“She didn’t kidnap him. She did something much worse: she married him.”

Again Basmati nodded excessively to demonstrate his understanding. After a minimum of thirty-four quick bobs, he began maniacally twirling his one-sided mustache.

“And after the wedding, Edith Wellington cheated on your father with an extraterrestrial?” Basmati proclaimed with astonishment. “If I hadn’t heard it directly from your mouth, I wouldn’t have believed it! What shocking behavior! Not for the extraterrestrial, but for Edith. Everyone knows aliens play fast and loose with their morals, but beauty queens? Never!”

“This is insane; I never said she had an affair with an alien,” Abernathy exclaimed matter-of-factly.

“Of course you did! And there is absolutely no reason
to deny it; who wouldn’t be angry if their stepmother cheated on their father with a lesser species? It’s completely logical,” Basmati countered in a frighteningly resolute manner.

“That is not why I hate her! Why won’t you listen to me? It’s because she married him!”

“Don’t be silly! You could never be
this mad
at her just because she loved him; it must have something to do with her affair with the alien. It’s the only logical explanation. Well, that or the fact that she ran off with your fiancée the llama.”

“I may have spent most of my life in a forest, but I have never been engaged to a llama!”

“Oh, I’m sorry; it was an alpaca, wasn’t it? I always get those two confused.”

“Please listen to me: I have never been engaged to an animal! Sure, I talked to them a lot while living in the forest, but that’s as far as it went!” Abernathy spat out seriously before standing and making his way to the door.

“This is a court of law without laws, which means you can leave whenever you want to. However, I should tell you it is still considered rude to walk away without
so much as a kiss on the cheek, a wave, or simply a goodbye!”

“Sorry,” Abernathy muttered. “Goodbye.”

“I don’t know what that alpaca saw in him,” Basmati mumbled as the door clanged shut.

I
n light of the enormous time restrictions before Sylvie’s story was to go to press, the School of Fearians immediately began their mission to save Toothpaste. They started with a search of the premises, looking in every cupboard, closet, and chest for the small but chatty bird. After two hours, however, having neither heard a peep nor found a feather, they all agreed it was unlikely the bird had been stashed inside.

“Okay, the bird’s not here, or at least not anywhere
we can see, so I think it’s time we formulate some kind of plan,” Garrison said to the others, huddled in the middle of the Standing-Room-Only Sitting Room.

“Does stopping to have a snack count as a plan?” Theo asked earnestly.

“No!” Lulu answered decisively. “Feeding your tapeworm is just going to have to wait.”

“That was uncalled for! You know darn well tapeworms come from eating meat! Are you implying I’m a covert carnivore? A fraudulent vegetarian?”

“Would everyone please stop talking about tapeworms? Just the thought of one makes me feel rather green,” Madeleine said, steadying herself against the wall.

“Totally, Mad Mad,” Hyacinth agreed. “Plus, Celery suffered a pretty traumatic loss last year when her bestie Arthur, a ground worm, was murdered by a crow right in front of her eyes. She had nightmares for, like, a week…. It was super intense.”

“A week? That’s it? Some friend,” Theo muttered under his breath.