“Absolutely shameful,” Madeleine continued.
“J-Jeffrey, our poodle,” Mrs. Knapp blubbered, “he’s like our child. I’m so sorry.”
Through the living room window, Garrison spotted Munchauser, still covered in fungus, pulling Macaroni through a window into
the backyard.
“There he is!” Garrison screamed while running for the back door.
“Don’t let him hurt Jeffrey!” Mrs. Knapp screamed.
Madeleine, Theo, and Lulu took off after Garrison while the couple started for the bathroom, desperate to retrieve Jeffrey
the poodle.
Munchauser ran as fast as possible with a big green bulldog in his arms and nervously looking behind himself every few seconds.
It was during one of those rearview moments when Munchauser discovered that his footing had drastically changed. The man was
sinking. He had walked onto a pool covering. As the flimsy plastic cover ripped beneath the giant man’s feet, he lost control
of Macaroni, dropping him through the hole in the tarp. Ever the coward, with disaster near at hand, Munchauser continued
to run, slightly faster now that he didn’t have a bulldog in tow.
Garrison, closest to the pool, realized that Macaroni was drowning beneath the cover. Without thinking, he jumped through
the hole and into the water. It wasn’t a decision as much as it was a reaction. His instincts told him to save Macaroni, so
that’s what Garrison proceeded to do.
It wasn’t until Garrison’s body became submerged in the cool water that he remembered he couldn’t swim. As he started to sink,
Garrison spotted Macaroni doing the doggy paddle, quite literally. Of course as dogs are natural swimmers, Macaroni would
be fine. He just needed someone to wipe the remaining moss from his face. Unfortunately, Garrison wouldn’t be so lucky.
Garrison flailed violently, submerging much of the pool cover in his attempt to stay afloat. Theo nearly landed on top of
Garrison when he heroically, but not gracefully, leaped to his friend’s aid. He wrapped his arms around the gasping boy and
deftly pulled him to the edge of the pool. Theo boosted Garrison up, and Lulu and Madeleine lifted him out of the water, as
his now red face panted for air.
“It’s okay, Garrison,” Madeleine’s said soothingly, “you’re going to be just fine. We have you.”
Garrison wanted to say thank you, but he couldn’t speak; he was still coughing up pool water. So instead, he just looked at
his friends and smiled.
“Gary’s alive! Gary’s alive!” Theo chanted happily.
“Just because you saved my life, doesn’t mean you can call me Gary.”
“Does Jeffrey really need to be in his car seat?” Lulu huffed as Mr. and Mrs. Knapp took a painstakingly long time to secure
the furry brown poodle in his specially crafted canine seat belt.
“It’s bad enough you made us wait to remove the fungus from his fur. We’re losing precious time!” Garrison snapped with agitation.
“Would you let your baby ride in the car without a seat belt, knowing that any abrupt stop could send him flying through the
windshield?” Mrs. Knapp said dramatically.
“If you like, we have an extra seat belt for your bulldog. It may be a little snug, but I think he can squeeze in there,”
Mr. Knapp said generously.
“We don’t have time!” Garrison exploded. “We need to get to the sheriff.”
“Do you know what the sheriff always says?” Mrs. Knapp asked Garrison with an annoyingly sincere smile.
“No,” he relented under her well-brushed pearly whites.
“Buckle up, it’s the law!”
“Yeah, for people! Not dogs!” Lulu jumped in.
“Maybe she’s right,” Theo blubbered. “I would hate to come this far and lose Mac in some silly traffic accident. Not to mention,
he’s pretty heavy. He could really hurt someone, flying through the car.”
“Finally someone with a little common sense,” Mrs. Knapp said with an undue amount of satisfaction. “Darling, go get the other
seat belt,” she instructed her husband before turning back to the children. “It will only take a second.”
Mrs. Knapp greatly underestimated the level of difficulty and time required to shove a dog the size of a jumbo pumpkin into
a car seat built for a dog with the dimensions of a cantaloupe. By the time Macaroni was fully buckled in, flab exploding
from all sides, he looked more like an origami assignment gone wrong than a dog.
“Are you absolutely certain that the seat belt is helping Macaroni?” Madeleine asked. “He looks terribly uncomfortable.”
“No one ever said safety was comfortable,” Mrs. Knapp explained with a sigh.
“I’ve been saying that for years,” Theo said while shaking his head.
Lulu and Theo surrounded Macaroni in the backseat while Madeleine and Garrison were forced to sit in the far back of the Knapps’
Suburban. Not surprisingly Jeffrey sat between the Knapps in the front seat. Mrs. Knapp hand-fed the poodle bits of cheese,
which she refused to share with Theo, as Mr. Knapp pulled out of the driveway.
“What are you doing?” Lulu hollered from the backseat. “You’re turning the wrong way.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve lived here seven years; I should know which way town is,” Mr. Knapp said confidently.
“Actually, darling,” Mrs. Knapp said softly, “I think she’s right.”
“No, darling, I’m right,” Mr. Knapp said aggressively.
“But the forest’s ahead,” Mrs. Knapp continued.
“Why am I never right?” Mr. Knapp huffed while banging his fists on the steering wheel.
As Mr. Knapp started the laborious forty-seven-point turn necessary to turn around, the car remained utterly silent. Well,
except for Macaroni’s light growls of discomfort.
“So was that a rhetorical question?” Theo said to Mr. Knapp. “Or do you actually want to know why you’re never right? ’Cause
I have some ideas.”
The cold stare in the rearview mirror said it all. Theo nodded while silently planning to campaign for the elimination of
rhetorical questions at school this fall. They seemed to cause a lot of problems.
By the time the Suburban pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office in Farmington, Macaroni resembled a bulging pretzel. Never
had a dog been so happy to get out of a car. After all he had been through that day, one got the feeling that the ten-minute
car ride was the most painful.
“Should we wait for you?” Mr. Knapp offered the foursome as they slammed the back door shut.
“Absolutely not,” Lulu answered first.
“And she means that in the most gracious way possible,” Madeleine added. “We know you must be anxious to get Jeffrey back
home.”
“Well, I am a bit concerned that Jeffrey’s showing signs of” — Mrs. Knapp stopped to cover Jeffrey’s ears and whispered —
“low self-esteem on account of Munchauser passing him over for a bulldog, of all breeds.”
As the Suburban rolled away, Mrs. Knapp grabbed Jeffrey’s paw and waved goodbye to the foursome.
The children waved back obligingly, when Lulu could have sworn she saw Macaroni roll his eyes.
W
hen four kids with wet, dirty, stained, and smelly clothes stormed into Sheriff McAllister’s office with Mrs. Wellington’s
dog, he wondered if his wife was pulling a joke on him.
“What on Earth?”
“Mrs. Wellington died and she left everything to Macaroni because she thought Schmidty would be dead, but of course he’s not,
so Munchauser, her attorney, stole Macaroni and we had to chase him down. We got Macaroni back, but we didn’t catch Munchauser,”
Theo blurted out rapidly.
“Did you just say Mrs. Wellington is dead?” the sheriff said with his eyes misting up.
“Yes, I’m afraid we did,” Madeleine said calmly.
“I’ve known her since I was a young boy. Why, she was the one who got me over my fear of flying,” the sheriff said as he dabbed
his eyes with a tissue. “I used to take the
Queen Mary
to see my Great Aunt Melba in Liverpool. And I’d get so seasick on the ship, but then Mrs. Wellington stepped in, changing
my life and my posture.”
“Listen, Sheriff, I want to come back to that story of how she helped you, I really do, but right now we need to get back
to Summerstone. I’m worried about Schmidty,” Garrison said sadly.
“Don’t you worry, son. I’ll get the van,” the sheriff said while putting on his hat.
“The crane’s broken,” Lulu said. “Schmidty said Munchauser broke it.”
“Which means we’ll have to take the tunnel,” Garrison said with defeat. “Again.”
“I don’t think so,” the sheriff said confidently as he walked toward the door.
The sheriff managed to coax Farmington’s fire captain, Huckleford, into driving the group out to the base of Summerstone.
The truck’s ladder extended almost two hundred and twenty-five feet, allowing the group to bypass the dreaded tunnels.
While Captain Huckleford drove, the students stared out the windows, contemplating all that had happened. Though less than
a week had passed, the children felt that years’ worth of experiences had transpired since they left their families. And never
in their wildest dreams or even nightmares had any of them ex-pected to weather an adventure like the one they had just completed.
After what felt like an eternity, the fire truck arrived at the base of the granite plateau. Captain Huckleford called everyone
on deck and began extending the mechanical ladder.
“The sheriff’s going up to make sure Schmidty’s okay,” Captain Huckleford explained to the kids.
“We’re going, too,” Theo said with sweaty palms.
“It’s awfully high; are you sure you want to do that?” Captain Huckleford asked.
“We’re sure,” Theo said boldly for the group.
Theo, Madeleine, Lulu, Garrison, and the sheriff scaled the ladder with surprising ease and speed. However, as soon as they
reached the top, Theo looked down and began to feel faint.
“I think I’ll take the tunnel down, if you don’t mind,” Theo whispered to the others.
“Come on!” the sheriff yelled while barreling toward Summerstone.
The second they entered the foyer, the group began screaming Schmidty’s name.
“Schmidty! Schmidty!”
“Where are you?”
“Hello? Hello? Schmidty?”
A small voice managed to be heard in all the bedlam.
“I’m in the dining room.” Schmidty’s voice was weaker than usual, certainly not a good sign.
They ran past familiar doors from the clock to the brass doorknob before stopping in front of the chalkboard door that led
to the dining room. As the sheriff went to open the door, Garrison pushed in front of him, entering the room first. Lulu,
Madeleine, Theo, and finally the sheriff quickly followed.
Seated at the elaborately set table were Mrs. Wellington, Schmidty, and Munchauser. As the foursome stood in absolute shock,
the sheriff laughed and took a seat at the table.
Theo was first to approach Mrs. Wellington, reaching his small hand to her makeup-clad face.
“Are you really alive?” Theo asked sincerely.
“Yes, Theo, I am,” Mrs. Wellington replied sweetly.
Theo flung his arms around her neck before planting a kiss on her cheek. “I have so many things I want to ask you, but first,
do you have any idea what you put us through, woman?”
“Not only are you not dead, but you are eating with the enemy!” Lulu screamed while pointing to Munchauser.
“Someone better start talking,” Garrison said, attempting to remain calm.
“Congratulations, you’ve completed School of Fear,” Mrs. Wellington said in her usual formal tone. “And with flying colors,
I might add. We are all extremely proud.”
“I’m terribly confused and very upset,” Madeleine said. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by my emotions.”
“So it was all fake?” Theo lamented angrily. “This whole thing was one big elaborate setup?”
“Well, not exactly. Munchauser’s arrival was not planned. But with Abernathy in the forest, I decided it best to improvise
so he could accompany you into town. This was Munchauser’s first time taking part in an adventure; we usually try to keep
him away from the students for obvious reasons. He doesn’t have the best bedside manner, and as you may have noticed, he has
a fondness for gambling.”