The Final Exam (3 page)

N
ot only did Sylvie Montgomery sound like a pig, she also very much resembled a member of the swine family. Her rosy complexion, drooping midsection, and dome-shaped derriere, complete with a protruding tailbone, were rather striking. But in truth it was her nose, thick and bulbous, that cemented her piglike appearance. Her nose dominated her face, making it nearly impossible to notice any of Sylvie’s other features. But she didn’t mind, for that swollen spherical
snout was her secret weapon. It alerted her to the presence of classified information, which Sylvie then tenaciously went after, relentlessly digging until she got to the bottom of the story. And with a mere three weeks until her article was to go to press, Sylvie was determined to uncover every last fact about Mrs. Wellington, Abernathy, and the school on the hill.

As Sylvie peeked through the window of the school, the lamp Mrs. Wellington had hurled in her direction crashed to the floor with such thunder that Schmidty and the students actually shrieked. Sylvie withdrew from the window, waddling quickly away before Mrs. Wellington could lob anything else at her.

“Might I suggest using a tad more emotional control when meeting with Abernathy?” Madeleine said delicately to Mrs. Wellington.

“But you’ve got to admit she’s got pretty good aim for an old lady,” Lulu noted admiringly.

“Spoken like a true juvenile delinquent,” Theo replied judgmentally to Lulu, who rather expectedly rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on, we better get dressed. Abernathy will be up soon,” Garrison said to Lulu, Theo, and Madeleine,
while Mrs. Wellington and Schmidty remained seated in the drawing room.

“I can’t believe Abernathy’s sleeping in the basement,” Madeleine said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Um, hello? The kitty spa is down there. I bet that place is pure luxury. Plus, there’s the artificial cat tongue,” Theo said excitedly as the group made their way into the Great Hall.

As the pudgy-cheeked boy pondered the mechanics of building a synthetic tongue, Madeleine fretted over her clothing options for the day ahead. She had watched enough C-SPAN to know that the Abernathy-Wellington summit warranted a smart outfit. However, just as she decided on a navy dress with white piping, the sound of glass fracturing erupted through the Great Hall. After exchanging tense glances, the foursome dashed down the remainder of the corridor and into the foyer. There they were met with a rather disturbing sight: Abernathy smashing one of Mrs. Wellington’s famed pageant photos with his heel. The gangly, gray-skinned man had a permanent hunch from staring at his feet, and in his old flannel shirt and dirty jeans, Abernathy appeared very much out of place amid the grandiosity of Summerstone.

“Abernathy, what on earth are you doing?” Madeleine asked as her blood pressure skyrocketed. The girl had yet to brush her teeth, and already the day was spinning wildly out of control.

“Oh, my bad. I bumped into the wall by accident,” Abernathy said in his squeaky, high-pitched voice. Although the many years of living in the forest had prematurely aged him, his voice remained that of a boy on the cusp of puberty.

“
My bad
? People who have spent decades in the forest don’t say
my bad
,” Theo scoffed to the others. “I think he’s been holing up at the Ramada Inn off the interstate, watching cable television and ordering room service. This whole thing is one big con!”

“Actually, Celery taught him that. Pretty cool, right?” Hyacinth said as she bounded down the last of the stairs wearing her ubiquitous pantsuit and with her ferret perched on her shoulder. “And FYI, Celery and I are pretty peeved at you guys for deserting us. You know how much we hate to wake up alone! Besties don’t leave besties, remember? Do I need to sing the ‘Besties Forever’ song again?”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” replied Abernathy, the sole person ever eager to hear Hyacinth’s off-key voice.

“Unfortunately, I think there is a slightly more pressing issue at hand,” Madeleine said seriously.

“Breakfast? I couldn’t agree more,” Theo replied.

“No,” Lulu answered. “We need to hide that picture before Mrs. Wellington sees it. This is not how we want to start the reconciliation.”

“I’m really sorry, guys,” Abernathy chirped, staring intently at his feet. “It was an involuntary reaction. Sort of like when you see a squirrel about to get run over by a car and you dart into the street to save him. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Squirrel-cide is a terrible thing to see,” Theo lamented dramatically.

“I hate…
her,
” Abernathy growled as he focused on another of Mrs. Wellington’s portraits on the wall. A bitter and angry expression overtook his ashen face. Much like a wild animal, he appeared to be running on instincts alone. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who only moments earlier had spoken timidly of rescuing a hypothetical squirrel.

“Well, this should be a piece of cake,” Lulu said sarcastically. “I don’t know what we were worried about.”

“Um, Abernathy refusing to forgive Mrs. Wellington, ruining any and all chances of saving the school,” Theo responded earnestly, then paused before saying, “Oh, wait—that was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?”

Two hours passed before Mrs. Wellington was finally prepared to meet Abernathy face-to-face in the ballroom. For the occasion, she donned a bright yellow dress and petticoat along with a soaring feathered cap. Schmidty worried that she looked a great deal like Big Bird from
Sesame Street,
but didn’t have the heart to tell her as much. Of course, it certainly didn’t help that her makeup, applied by the legally blind Schmidty, perfectly matched her outfit.

In preparation for the morning summit, Mrs. Wellington demanded that Schmidty make actual Casu Frazigu, also known as maggot cheese. Ever since the cheese had been outlawed for a wide variety of health reasons, he had merely flavored food to taste of Casu Frazigu. However, sensing the fragility of her mood,
Schmidty decided it best not to argue. Instead, he tricked Mrs. Wellington by using overcooked granules of rice as a stand-in for maggots.

Believing the Casu Frazigu to be real, Lulu, Theo, Garrison, and Madeleine inched away from the vile delicacy. Theo even went so far as to move the snacks he had brought away from the cheese, worried that an overactive maggot might make the jump.

As the students huddled around the table, Mrs. Wellington, Schmidty, and Macaroni sat stoically on the couch. While waiting for Hyacinth to return with Abernathy, her personal singing companion, Garrison took a moment to remind his peers of the plan.

“As soon as Abernathy enters, I want everyone smiling at him. We need to make him feel welcome,” Garrison whispered. “And remember, be patient—we can’t just jump right into the whole ‘you guys need to work this out’ speech. First we need to say hello, make some small talk, maybe even have a snack—”

“Let’s not forget who brought the non–Casu Frazigu snacks: me!” Theo interrupted while literally reaching his arm around to pat himself on the back.

“But these aren’t the most mature people; it’s rather
plausible they might immediately start yelling,” Madeleine said perceptively. “In truth, there’s really no telling what they’ll do.”

“If they get rowdy, I say we break out some Styrofoam bats and just let them go at it,” Lulu added.

“I don’t think so,” Garrison quickly countered.

“Um, don’t knock it; we did it in family therapy,” Lulu said in response.

“With all due respect, Lulu, from what we’ve heard of your family, the exercise doesn’t appear to have been terribly effective,” Madeleine assessed candidly.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point. But it was really fun, one of the best times of my life,” Lulu said, staring wistfully off into space.

The faint sound of Abernathy and Hyacinth singing Christmas carols suddenly rippled through the ballroom, instantly grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Mister Abernathy certainly enjoys Christmas tunes,” Schmidty said with a nervous smile, and Macaroni tilted his head at the sound of the tonally challenged duo.

“A terribly odd affinity considering he’s Jewish,” Mrs. Wellington mumbled. “He had a bar mitzvah and everything.”

“Being open to other faiths is a wonderful quality,” Madeleine offered optimistically.

“About that bar mitzvah: Did he get a lot of gifts? Not that I am basing my conversion to any religion on the gift-to-child ratio. However, there is no denying that eight days of Hanukkah to one day of Christmas is pretty compelling,” Theo said emphatically.

“Trust me, no one thinks you’re picking a religion based on gifts,” Lulu said with a roll of her eyes. “We all know it’s coming down to the food: Who has the best, and the most of it?”

As Theo prepared a retort, the tone-deaf twosome entered the ballroom. They were met with six tense faces—seven if they counted Macaroni. Instantly unnerved by the room’s many scrutinizing eyes, Abernathy trailed off while staring keenly at his shoes. In stark contrast, Hyacinth continued to sing with all the enthusiasm of a Broadway star on opening night.

“Miss Hyacinth,” Schmidty said loudly, “perhaps now would be a good time to rest your vocal cords.”