The Final Exam (20 page)

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Authors: Gitty Daneshvari

BOOK: The Final Exam
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“You ready, Maddie?” Lulu asked.

“I don’t know; what if we have to hide in a bush or
something while following them? There could be bugs or spiders!”

“Don’t worry, Maddie,” Theo said bravely. “I’ll step in for you!”

“Sorry, Theo, but you make way too much noise to be a spy,” Garrison explained before placing his hand on Madeleine’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I’ve already seen four spiders inside the house. At least out here there’s more space; they can spread out.”

Madeleine nodded as Garrison then put his other hand on Lulu’s shoulder.

“Remember, girls, don’t get too close, and once you know where they’re keeping Toothpaste, come back and get us. I don’t want you guys going in there alone.”

As the two girls nodded their understanding, Theo grabbed Madeleine’s arm and said, “If you happen to overhear anything about my heroic attempt to stop them from jumping off the roof, please try to remember it word for word.”

“Celery thinks you’re super obsessed with yourself,” Hyacinth told Theo with her usual peppy grin as Madeleine and Lulu skulked off after the Contrarians.

“Self-obsessed? Ha! I am merely researching a book
that I am writing on myself! A book, I might add, that lots of people are already clamoring to read. Well, maybe not lots of people, but I’m definitely excited to read it, after I write it, that is…”

Hours later, as the sun crept out of the afternoon sky, Basmati surprised Abernathy in the kitchen, dressed in pink swim trunks, a green tie, and a purple jacket, but without a shirt. The look was rather memorable, even for Basmati.

“Abernathy, I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d like to stroll through the gardens with me.”

“No, thanks,” Abernathy muttered meekly.

“So it’s true what Edith Wellington says about you…”

“What has she been saying?” Abernathy asked with burgeoning aggression.

“She said you’ve always preferred to be alone and that you’ve unfairly used her as a scapegoat for all your life’s problems.”

“That is not true! If she had left me and my father alone, everything would have been fine! I wouldn’t have had to break my promise! I would have had a normal childhood, and maybe even turned into a normal adult!”

“Come, Abernathy,” Basmati said with a smile. “Let’s discuss this further in the garden.”

As the sun faded completely from view, long, warped shadows decorated the ground of the prickly cacti garden.

“Edith Wellington also mentioned that she thought you were the reason your father died so young.”

“What?” Abernathy said, fighting the urge to cry. “That’s the worst thing she’s ever said!”

“Worse than calling you ugly?”

“She called me ugly, too?”

“No, she didn’t call you ugly. Actually, she didn’t say any of those things. I just made all that up.”

“Wait—are you serious? That was all a lie?”

“Yes, but don’t be mad. I did it for you. Wasn’t it nice to feel justified in your hatred for a few minutes?” Basmati said with a smile.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Abernathy answered
quietly, still reeling from the ramifications of Basmati’s flip-flopping statements.

“You’re welcome? Your hair looks good? Really, any compliment will do.”

“You’re sick.”

“I certainly hope so; I was in the Hospital for Spreading Contagious Diseases just this morning. Oh, and by the way, everything I told you was true…”

“So she
did
say those things about me?”

“You seem to care an awful lot about what she thinks of you.”

“No, I don’t!” Abernathy protested loudly as his body tightened, his temples pounded, and his blood pressure skyrocketed.

As Abernathy attempted to regain his composure, the sound of Sylvie’s sniffing once again wafted over the soaring stone wall.

“Hello? Hello? Is someone there? Don’t worry, I’m not dangerous. I’m just a traveling saleslady whose car broke down a ways back. I’ve been wandering the woods for hours looking for something to eat or drink. Won’t you let me in? Please!” Sylvie whined faintly from outside the fortress.


No hablo ingles,
” Basmati replied in pitch-perfect Spanish.

“What did you say?” Sylvie called out.

“I said I don’t speak any English!” Basmati hollered as he yanked Abernathy away from the wall and out of the reporter’s earshot.

A mere twenty feet away, hidden behind a row of elm trees, was Mrs. Wellington. Dressed in an unfashionable orange pantsuit that precisely matched her eye shadow and lipstick, the old woman was staring directly up at the clouds. While it certainly wasn’t obvious, she was praying to the Great Beauty Queen in the Sky. Feeling most desperate and distraught about her situation and her hair, she decided it was time to seek spiritual counsel. Unfortunately, the prayer was brought to an abrupt halt when the Contrarians crawled across her six-inch carrot-colored heels.

“Pardon me, boys, but what exactly are you doing down there? Is this some sort of psychological regression? Are you getting in touch with your inner infants?”

“What?” Fitzy replied with understandable confusion.

“Why are you crawling on the ground?” Mrs. Wellington asked exceptionally slowly, clearly believing the boys to be thick.

“It’s really weird, but I can’t remember. Maybe we broke our feet? Guys, what are we doing down here?” Fitzy asked the equally perplexed Bard and Herman.

While the Contrarians had escaped the jet-pack disaster without any broken bones, they weren’t as lucky where concussions were concerned. After wobbling on their feet and experiencing bouts of extreme nausea, the trio had decided it best to crawl. Alas, short-term memory loss from their concussions erased this fact from their minds.

“If you haven’t a clue why you’re crawling, might I suggest you rejoin the rest of us humans in standing erect?” Mrs. Wellington bristled.

The Contrarians trembled and swayed as they returned to their feet. While the three boys fought to remain vertical, Mrs. Wellington neither lent a hand nor asked if they were all right. It was a most bizarre way for a teacher to behave, but she wholeheartedly believed the
boys needed to suffer the consequences of their foolish actions.

“You look really familiar,” Fitzy said, rubbing his temples, desperate to relieve the thunderous pounding.

“Do you subscribe to
Pageant Princesses
? I was the January 1965 cover girl,” Mrs. Wellington said proudly.


Pageant Princesses
? Is that like
Cat Fancy
?”

“Well, that depends; do the cats wear tiaras?”

“Wait a second!” Fitzy said with a satisfied smile. “You’re Larry’s grandma!”

“I am no one’s grandma!”

“Yeah, right! You look exactly like Larry!”

“Well, seeing as I have no children, it’s highly unlikely that I’m Larry’s grandma!”

“Man, that’s sad—an old lady who isn’t someone’s grandma. I didn’t even know that was possible,” Fitzy babbled as Bard and Herman nodded their heads in agreement.

“Sad? There is absolutely nothing sad about being an independent woman without offspring! Nothing at all!” Mrs. Wellington said passionately as her eyes began to well with tears.

“No, I think you’re sad,” Fitzy declared before Bard and Herman chirped in unison, “Totally sad.”

“Fine! I
am
sad!”

“Maybe Larry will let you adopt him so you can have a grandkid.”

“I don’t want a grandkid! I just want my stepson!” Mrs. Wellington exclaimed emotionally before rushing off in her high-heeled shoes.

As the old woman vanished into the faint evening light, Madeleine and Lulu prepared to inch closer to the Contrarians, having heard a muffled mention of Toothpaste, or at the very least something that sounded like “Toothpaste.” The covert spying had been under way for hours, but much to their chagrin had yielded no results. Not only were they trailing erratically behaved boys, they were doing it on their knees. The Contrarians’ bizarre decision to crawl everywhere had greatly increased the difficulty of the operation.

While staking out their next plan of action, Madeleine and Lulu heard the unmistakable panting of an English bulldog. Along with flatulence and snoring, heavy breathing is a well-known characteristic of the breed. As Macaroni preferred the company of people, it
was hardly a surprise when Theo was discovered next to the dog, shoving crackers into his mouth. Most delighted to have found food—in the washing machine, of all places—Theo was crunching happily away when Lulu popped her head around the hedge.

“What are you doing here?” Lulu whispered with unmistakable annoyance.

“We’re your understudies, in case anything goes wrong,” Theo mumbled as cracker crumbs tumbled down his doughy chin.

“Theo, spies don’t have understudies.”

“Then why is there an Understudy Spy Club on Facebook?”

“There isn’t; you just made that up.”

“Ugh!” Theo grunted, slapping his knee. “You know me too well.”

“Now get out of here, before you blow this whole operation.”

“I love the sound of that word, ‘operation’—well, in this context anyway. Because let’s be honest—who likes surgery?”

“Theo, stop talking and go back inside,” Lulu whispered through gritted teeth.

“But what if something goes wrong? You may need a chubby bulldog and a mildly overweight man.”

“What could we possibly need from you? Sandwiches?”

“Let’s leave sandwiches out of this,” Theo responded protectively before flinching at the sudden sound of a young girl’s bloodcurdling scream.

“Monster!” Madeleine spat at the sight of a millipede and its hundreds of legs. While the prefix suggests otherwise, millipedes do not in fact have a thousand legs, but as far as Madeleine was concerned, anything more than four was too many.

“What could happen?” Theo said, nodding triumphantly at Lulu. “Madeleine could happen, that’s what.”

“I feel something on my leg!” Madeleine screamed hysterically as she took off running past Lulu and Theo, toward the Contrary Conservatory.

As the sound of Madeleine’s small feet pounding against the ground faded, Theo stood up and started stretching, much to Lulu’s confusion.

“What are you preparing for, a yoga class?”

“Um, I’ve been sitting down for almost ten minutes. If I’m not careful I could pull a muscle.”

Having had their curiosity piqued by Madeleine’s scream, the Contrarians quickly made their way over to Lulu and Theo. There were few things that intrigued them quite as much as shrieking—mostly because they associated it with highly hazardous activities.

“That was so cool! Did you light her shower cap on fire? Burning plastic is my favorite!” Fitzy declared enthusiastically.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” Bard and Herman chanted disturbingly while tossing Petey the stuffed red snake back and forth.

“Did you know that one hundred twenty-four people in the United States died from snake bites in 2009, and another four hundred four urinated on themselves at the sight of a snake? That’s four hundred four ruined pairs of slacks and skirts,” Theo said, motioning to Petey.

“Theo,” Lulu said with a sigh, “some facts, especially ones concerning bodily functions, are better kept to yourself or, if absolutely necessary, written in your diary.”

“I don’t have a diary; I have a mournal, aka a
manly
journal, in which I write very
manly
thoughts. Things like ‘spend more time at Home Depot’ and ‘find out where Zac Efron shops,’ ” Theo proudly explained to Lulu.

“Wait a second, what were we talking about again? It’s like my mind just erased itself,” Fitzy grunted, rubbing his temples.

“That is so weird; you really don’t remember what we were talking about?” Lulu asked, prompting all three Contrarians to shake their heads. “You were telling us where you stashed Toothpaste.”

“What’s this about toothpaste?” Fitzy asked before pausing, “Oh, you’re talking about that bird.”

“Please don’t tell me you killed him,” Theo mumbled before dramatically covering his mouth with his hands.

“No way. I promised my mom I wouldn’t kill anything this summer,” Fitzy responded casually.

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