by Jason Segel
Fortunately, Ms. Abbot’s class turned out to be the perfect distraction. She kicked off the lecture with a slide show of fantastic creatures that were all in disguise. Bugs pretended to be sticks. Flowers took the shape of bees. Caterpillars slithered like snakes. And octopuses masqueraded as jellyfish. When her presentation was finished, Ms. Abbot handed out sheets of drawing paper and told Charlie and his classmates to design their own mimics.
Paige set to work immediately; Charlie had never seen her quite so inspired. For fifteen minutes, she remained hunched over her page with her arm hiding her art from view.
While the kids drew, Ms. Abbot walked around the classroom, peeking at all the works in progress. “So what kind of mimic are you designing?” she asked Paige when she finally stopped at their lab table.
Paige whipped her paper off the desk and proudly held up her drawing. The picture showed a lake with a creature lurking inside it. Above the surface, the animal appeared to have the head of a little boy. Below the water, however, a dozen deadly tentacles were treading the water. “It’s an octopus that can mimic the appearance of a human child. It waits in the water for people to try to rescue the kid. Then it eats them.”
“Fabulous!” Ms. Abbot told her. “Brilliant and gruesome. I can’t imagine a better combination. What about you, Charlie? What are you drawing?”
Charlie looked down at his own picture. It seemed dull in comparison to Paige’s mimic, even though it was inspired by something he’d come across in the Netherworld. “It’s a beetle that looks like a poisonous mushroom.”
“How nice,” Ms. Abbot said kindly. She tapped the paper with her fingertip. “As it happens, a species of mushroom that looks just like this one grows in the woods near my house.”
“Amanita muscaria?” Charlie asked. They’d been a favorite of his mother’s.
Ms. Abbot lifted a thin, black eyebrow. “Very impressive,” she told him. “Have you ever seen one in person? If not, I can show you a few after school today.”
It took a moment for the meaning of Ms. Abbot’s words to make their way to Charlie’s brain. As soon as it did, his stomach tied itself in a knot. Charlotte hadn’t called Ms. Abbot like she’d promised. The science teacher still thought Charlie would be helping out at her house that afternoon. Maybe Charlotte had made a mistake. She’d probably claim she’d forgotten. But Charlie didn’t buy it. Charlotte had a sneaky side, and he had a hunch that his stepmother had never planned to phone Ms. Abbot at all.
“What’s happening after school today?” Paige asked, looking back and forth between her lab partner and her teacher.
“Nothing too exciting, I assure you,” Ms. Abbot said. She didn’t sound eager to discuss their plans. “I’ve hired Charlie to help me with some gardening.”
Paige began bouncing up and down with excitement. “Oh my gosh! Can I come? Can I come?”
Ms. Abbot frowned. She clearly wasn’t thrilled by the idea. “It’s going to be really hard work, Paige. And the plants we’ll be working with can be pretty…tricky.”
“That’s okay, Ms. Abbot,” Charlie jumped in. If he had to go to the woods with his strange science teacher, he’d rather not go alone. “Paige helps out around Hazel’s Herbarium sometimes. She’s a really hard worker. My stepmom thinks she’s great.”
“So she can be trusted?” Ms. Abbot asked. It was such a weird question that Charlie wondered if the teacher was joking.
“Of course. I’ve known Paige since kindergarten. I trust her with everything,” Charlie said.
“It’s true,” Paige added enthusiastically. “I know all his secrets.”
Most, Charlie thought. But not all. There was still one secret he hadn’t shared.
“Okay, then,” Ms. Abbot said, though she still didn’t seem convinced. “I suppose we could use an extra set of hands. I’ll meet you both outside the front door at two-fifty.”
The teacher moved along to the next table, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Paige turned to Charlie with a hurt expression. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Ms. Abbot’s house today?”
“Because I didn’t know! I thought we’d be looking for INK. Charlotte set the whole thing up with Ms. Abbot, and she promised me she’d cancel,” Charlie said. “But it turns out my sneaky stepmother didn’t keep her promise, so I guess I don’t have any choice now. I have to help.”
Paige looked completely flabbergasted. “I get that you want to go hunt for INK, but why don’t you want to hang out with Ms. Abbot? After Charlotte and my aunt Josephine, she’s the coolest lady I’ve ever met!”
Charlie searched for the words to explain why the teacher made him feel so uncomfortable. “She’s weird, Paige, and the plants she wants to grow in her garden are all deadly. They could kill everyone in town.”
“OMG, I can’t wait to see them!” Paige was practically drooling with excitement, and Charlie felt his frustration growing.
“Yeah? Well, have you heard that Ms. Abbot lives in the old Livingston place? You know, that run-down old house in the middle of the woods? You really want to spend your afternoon there?”
“The old Livingston place? That’s awesome! And wait—isn’t that near the same spot in the woods where you saw INK last night?” Paige asked. “Now we can kill two birds with one stone!”
Paige had a point—and Charlie couldn’t argue against it. He just wished he could find the words to explain why he didn’t feel at ease around Ms. Abbot. She seemed perfectly nice. But there was something about her—something he couldn’t put a finger on. Somehow Charlie knew in his gut that Ms. Abbot shouldn’t be trusted.
—
That feeling grew worse as Charlie and Paige bounced in the backseat of Ms. Abbot’s car as it sped down the bumpy dirt road to her house. He didn’t know exactly who Fleetwood Mac was, but he thought the music Ms. Abbot played was pretty creepy. Along the way, Charlie tried to keep an eye out for INK, but he couldn’t concentrate. Every few yards, the car zipped past another bright red No Trespassing sign Ms. Abbot had posted. She seemed eager to turn away guests. Which made Charlie wonder why she was so keen to make an exception for him.
By the time they reached the entrance to the long drive that led to the old Livingston house, Charlie was completely on edge. His palms were sweating, and his heart was pounding. He nearly bolted from the car when he saw that the narrow drive was lined with neatly trimmed oleander bushes covered in frilly white blooms.
“How pretty!” Paige marveled as they drove between the walls of flowers.
“Yup,” Charlie agreed, wiping his palms on his pants and trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he felt. “That’s oleander. It’s one of the deadliest plants in North America.”
“Cool,” Paige responded appreciatively.
“You really know your stuff,” Ms. Abbot praised Charlie from the front seat, just as the car emerged into a clearing with a house at its center.
Charlie couldn’t believe his eyes. He and his mom had hiked past the old Livingston place several times. He hadn’t been back in the years since she died, but he still remembered the dilapidated shack that had once stood on the very same spot. The building had been given a complete makeover. The windows had glass now, and the doorways had doors. Green moss still grew on the roof, but the walls were white and the shutters had been painted a cheerful blue. Yellow jessamine vines clung to trellises that ran alongside the house. Charlie might have found the blooms charming if he hadn’t known that every leaf, seed, and petal of the plant was extremely toxic.
“Wow, this looks like something out of a fairy tale,” Paige said.
“Yeah, ‘Hansel and Gretel,’ ” Charlie blurted out before he could stop himself.
But Ms. Abbot didn’t seem at all offended. “I’m afraid the house is made out of wood siding, not gingerbread,” she said, turning off the car. “But if you want to give it a bite, I won’t try to stop you.”
“No offense,” Charlie said. “But I wouldn’t eat anything while I’m at this
house. Everything you’ve got growing around here is poisonous.”
“Charlie!” Paige whispered angrily. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him. It’s true,” Ms. Abbot said. Then she grabbed her bag off the passenger seat and got out.
Paige looked at Charlie, worry crossing her face. “Wait,” she called through the backseat window. “What?”
Ms. Abbot opened Paige’s door. “Don’t worry. The plants in the front yard are harmless unless you get the urge to nibble on them,” the teacher replied. “But I’m growing a proper poison garden behind the house, and I need some help with it. That’s why you’re here. Now come with me.”
For once, even Paige didn’t seem to know how to respond. After a second’s hesitation, she unfastened her seat belt and slid out. Charlie swore under his breath and followed.
They caught up with Ms. Abbot as she crossed the yard, making her way past several buzzing beehives toward the back of the house. There, they found a lovely glass greenhouse surrounded by a tall black cast-iron fence. The fence would have looked right at home surrounding a graveyard, and its pickets were topped with dangerously sharp spikes.
“This is where my little garden will be,” Ms. Abbot announced. “The fence is probably overkill, but I can’t risk anyone getting hurt.”
“What are you going to plant in there?” Paige asked.
“Oh, all the classic killers. Angel’s-trumpet, monkshood, stinking nightshade, dead man’s bells, dogbane…”
“But why?” Charlie wondered.
“Why not?” Ms. Abbot asked. “You’ve got to remember—poisonous plants are not trying to hurt anyone. Their toxins are simply a form of self-defense—they’re meant to keep insects and other pests away. For centuries, people thought plants like belladonna or dogsbane were wicked. But the very same chemicals that make my plants deadly can also be used to heal. That’s why I chose them. You see, Charlie, the truth is, there’s no such thing as pure good or pure evil in the world. Almost everything is a combination of both.”
It was an interesting theory, Charlie thought. But Ms. Abbot was totally wrong. He knew from experience that there was indeed evil in the world. It went by the names ICK and INK, and every moment he spent in Ms. Abbot’s garden was a moment he couldn’t spend searching for the missing twin.
“So everything’s a mixture of good and bad? Then what about ticks?” he heard Paige challenge the teacher. “There’s nothing good about ticks.”
Ms. Abbot grinned as if she were playing her favorite game. “What do you mean? Of course there is! What would you say if I told you that tick saliva contains a powerful drug that could one day be used to save people’s lives during surgery?”
“I guess I’d say wow,” Paige said, duly impressed. “But it wouldn’t stop me from squishing them.” Then her eyes rolled upward while she searched her brain for another example. “Okay, so maybe nothing’s truly evil. But what about good? What about gerbils? Since when have gerbils ever done anything wrong?”
From the smile on Ms. Abbot’s face, Charlie guessed Paige was in for another science smackdown. “Have you ever heard of the black death?” Ms. Abbot asked.
“Sure,” Paige said. “It was a plague that killed millions of people around the world in the Middle Ages.”
“Well, scientists used to blame rats for carrying the fleas that spread the disease. But now they’re pretty sure that gerbils were the original bad guys.”
“Gerbils?” Paige couldn’t believe it. “Cute, furry little gerbils?”
Ms. Abbot nodded. “So now do you understand why I feel the need to defend my plants? While most people see evil, I see complicated—and misunderstood.”
“Okay, I get it,” Paige said. “But we’re going to be working with them, right? Is it dangerous to touch them?”
“It can be,” Charlie answered. “Extremely dangerous.”
“And that’s why I brought in an expert,” Ms. Abbot said, pointing at Charlie. “Charlotte told me you have experience working with unusual species.”
“Sure, but…”
“But you need the right equipment?” Ms. Abbot finished for him. “You know I’m a science teacher, right? Safety is my middle name. Follow me.”
She led them to a garden shed on the edge of the clearing. It was creaky and old and looked like it might have once served as the Livingston family’s outhouse. Charlie heard its boards creaking in the breeze and guessed that a strong gust of wind would flatten it.
The shed’s door was already open a crack when they arrived, and Ms. Abbot let out a sigh. “Looks like my raccoon is back,” she said. “Nasty little creature keeps getting in here and messing up my organizational system.”
She squatted down and began picking out supplies from a pile of items that had fallen off the shelves and onto the dirt floor. Charlie and Paige were each given spades, garden claws, face masks, goggles, and gloves. When Ms. Abbot stood back up, Charlie could see that she’d gathered a set of supplies for herself as well.
She laughed at the surprise that Charlie knew was written all over his face. “You thought I was going to let you guys have all the fun?” she asked as she pulled on a pair of green gardening gloves over the sleeves of her chic black dress. “By the way, look what I just found on the floor.”
She was holding a small metal figurine. The paint had worn away in places, but it seemed to be a toy soldier. Charlie took the figurine, and when he held it up for a closer look, he nearly dropped it back down to the ground. The soldier’s face appeared horribly deformed. Then Charlie realized it was wearing a gas mask.
“I’d bet that’s a genuine antique, kid,” Ms. Abbot said. “Must have belonged to one of the people who lived here way back when. Consider it your bonus.”
“Gee, thanks,” Charlie said, tucking the creepy toy into his pocket.
—
Inside the greenhouse, it was warm and damp. Charlie breathed in the smell of the soil and began to relax. Even in an eerie greenhouse filled with poisonous plants, Charlie felt at home. He’d started gardening with his mother when he was just a little boy. Charlotte said he had a gift for horticulture—a real green thumb. Maybe it was true, he thought as he took a spot at Paige’s side and began to get to work. It didn’t matter if he was wearing gloves and a mask. The feel of the earth in his hands comforted him. Charlie always seemed to know which plants needed water and which could use a fresh covering of manure. It was almost as if they spoke to him.
While Charlie worked quietly, Paige and Ms. Abbot chattered away. Paige seemed to have a million questions for their new science teacher. She’d started off by digging for personal details, but Ms. Abbot gave almost nothing away. The only information Paige and Charlie were able to glean was that Samantha Abbot came from New York, had no family, had gone to Harvard, liked cheese in a can, and had once grown a six-foot-long zucchini.
Then Paige turned the conversation to the subject of plants, and Ms. Abbot came alive. She knew dozens of stories about each plant they were potting. Some of the tales were pure fiction. Wolfsbane, for instance, was believed to act as a defense against werewolves, while henbane was said to help witches fly. But most of Ms. Abbot’s stories were taken straight from the pages of history. Poisonous belladonna berries had been used to murder a Roman emperor. And Russian spies had once used toxin that comes from castor beans to do away with a famous journalist.
“So what are you going to do with all these crazy plants?” Paige joked once Ms. Abbot’s misunderstood plants were all in their brand-new pots. “You could make one heck of a witch’s brew if you wanted to.”
“Why, that’s exactly what I plan to do,” Ms. Abbot said, and Charlie’s eyes flew up from his work. “But I’m not the kind of witch who poisons or curses,” she continued. “I’m the kind of witch who tries to cure.”
There was something in her voice that told Charlie the teacher wasn’t kidding around. He set his spade aside and looked over at Paige.
“W
ait,” Paige said. “Are you saying you’re a witch?”
“I don’t ride a broomstick, and I don’t have any supernatural powers,” said Ms. Abbot. “I don’t like cats, and I don’t believe in magic. But I believe in the power of nature. And I believe that if you learn how to make use of it, you can do things that seem magical.”
“Like what?” Charlie demanded. He’d never been very fond of witches, good or bad.
“Well, for instance, each of these plants contains powerful substances. For centuries, they’ve been used to kill. I believe they can be used to make drugs that save lives instead,” said Ms. Abbot.
“So you’re kind of like Charlotte,” Paige said. “She uses plants to treat people too.”
“Charlotte is an herbalist. She uses plants to make remedies and ointments,” Ms. Abbot said. “I’m a chemist. I work with chemicals I extract from plants. They’re two different jobs, but I suppose back in the old days, Charlie’s stepmom and I could both have been burned as witches.”
“Really?” Paige gasped.
“Absolutely,” Ms. Abbot said. “Even today, it can be hard for people to understand that plants they think of as evil can have a good side too. So I need to keep my poison garden a secret. Charlie, I asked you to help because your stepmother said I could trust you. Paige, I let you come because you have Charlie’s trust. I hope I can rely on you both not to talk about the things you’ve seen here today.”
“Never!” Paige said. “Our lips are sealed!”
Charlie was careful not to make any promises.
Ms. Abbot smiled, her face lit by the golden sun, which was already sinking toward the horizon. “Good work today, guys,” she said. “Looks like we finished just in time for me to get you home for dinner. Come inside and I’ll pour you some lemonade and pay you for your fine services.”
Charlie and Paige followed Ms. Abbot through the back door of the house and into the kitchen.
“Sorry for the mess,” she said, gesturing to the kitchen table, which was covered with glass beakers, tubes, and various lab tools. “That’s tomorrow’s science class.”
