“No—that you should play football.”
They had almost caught up to Jackie when Paige saw her take a sharp turn.
“She went into the science lab,” she said.
“Oh, great. Nothing dangerous in there,” Fatima replied sarcastically.
At that moment, the door to Miss Carver’s office flew open, blocking Paige and Fatima’s path. Miss Carver leaped out, her face as purple as an eggplant. “NO RUNNING IN THE HALLWAYS!”
Paige and Fatima skidded to a stop.
“Sorry, Miss Carver!” Paige squeaked. “We were just—”
“Just what? Trying to make it look like I run a school full of animals?” She took a threatening step toward them. The thick stench of vinegar filled their nostrils.
“Just . . . trying to get to history class before the big test,” Fatima said, breathing through her mouth.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. You want to run at school, then join the track team,” Miss Carver snapped. An idea flickered across her face. “That’s right—you’re both on the track team, starting now! And I’d better not hear about either of you missing a single practice.”
Fatima was horrified. “No, Miss Carver . . . please. I hate running.”
“You should have thought about that before you disrespected my rules.”
Paige raised her hand timidly. “Actually, Miss Carver, I’m already on the track team.”
Miss Carver’s lips quivered in rage and somehow, her face became even more purple. “Well, now you’re off it. NOW GET TO CLASS!” She pointed toward the history room.
Seeing no other choice, Paige and Fatima turned around and trudged off to class.
Jackie looked around the empty science lab. She walked between the tall, black-topped tables, and wandered back to a supply cabinet. She took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, shook it, and watched it fizz.
She frowned. “Not enough.”
She went over to a Bunsen burner and flicked on the gas. The flame spat upward, almost catching one of her pigtails on fire. “Whoa! Too much.”
She turned off the burner. Then she spotted a small plastic terrarium on a shelf by the window. It was full of newly hatched baby spiders. Jackie tapped on the side of the terrarium, and the spiders scurried in all different directions. She smiled. “Just right.” She heard footsteps outside the door. She looked up and saw a vent covering an air duct in the ceiling above her.
“Come on, babies.” She climbed onto a lab table, reached up, and pulled open the vent. Then, she lifted the terrarium into the air duct before hoisting herself up and closing the vent behind her.
Jackie scooted through the dusty ducts, pushing the terrarium in front of her. She reached another vent and peered down. She was right above Miss Carver’s office. Miss Carver was throwing a dart at a board covered in yearbook pictures. The dart hit the bull’s-eye, puncturing poor Zeke Trimble’s nose.
Jackie crawled over the vent as carefully as she could. She made it to the other side without making a sound. She picked up speed, making her way through the maze of air ducts. As she crept over Mr. Hanh’s classroom, she saw Mr. Hanh sitting at his desk. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then licked the last crumbs off the stolen brownie tray.
“Getting closer!” she whispered to herself with giddy anticipation.
Finally, she reached the vent above the history classroom. The students sat quietly in their seats. The history teacher, Mr. Ellis, placed the test papers facedown on their desks. Fatima was in the back of the room, still catching her breath. Paige was next to her, biting her nails. They both looked like they had just seen a ghost.
Mr. Ellis stopped at Jaclyn’s empty desk. He looked around the room. “Has anyone seen Jaclyn? She’s never late.”
Paige and Fatima turned to each other in a panic. Paige mouthed, Say something.
Fatima piped up. “She’s not feeling . . . like herself today.”
“Oh,” said Mr. Ellis. “I hope she feels better soon.”
“Oh, she will!” Jackie whispered to herself.
Mr. Ellis finished handing out the tests. He looked at the clock. “Okay, class. Your time starts . . . now.”
Up in the air duct, Jackie popped the lid off the terrarium, tipped it to the side, and tapped the bottom. A few baby spiders dropped through the vent. Mr. Ellis felt something on the back of his neck. He brushed it away with his hand.
“What was that?” he muttered.
Confused, he looked up. Jackie flipped the terrarium upside down and shook it like a maniac.
“SPIDERS!” Mr. Ellis screamed as one landed on his eye.
Spiders rained down on the room and scattered everywhere. The class plunged into pandemonium. Some of the kids leaped onto their chairs to avoid the spiders crawling on the ground. Others put their backpacks on their heads to protect against the spiders falling from the ceiling.
“They’re in my hair!” Marina wailed, running across the room.
“They’re in my hair, too!” shouted Mr. Ellis. He was completely bald, but he did have a thick beard that the spiders probably found quite cozy.
The students ran around in a panic. Someone knocked the globe off Mr. Ellis’s desk and it smashed on the ground. Another kid tore the world map off the wall to use for protection.
Terrified, Mr. Ellis tried to brush himself off. “They’re poisonous!” he shouted. “They’ll eat your flesh!” Neither of these things was true, but then perhaps this was why Mr. Ellis was a history teacher, not a science teacher.
Fatima and Paige looked around at the chaos. They knew Jackie had caused it, but they had no idea how she’d managed to do it.
“Everybody out! Save yourselves!” Mr. Ellis shrieked. He was the first one out the door. The students stampeded out behind him. As Fatima left, she could have sworn she heard laughter coming from the vent.
As soon as the classroom was empty, Jaclyn transformed back into her normal self. Terrified, she glanced around the dusty air duct and backed away in a daze, holding the empty spider terrarium. Without realizing it, she scooted herself right onto the vent. It swung open beneath her, and she plummeted down onto Mr. Ellis’s desk. She looked around, disoriented.
She heard Mr. Ellis’s voice down the hall. “This way! Hurry!”
She stood up on the desk, swung the vent closed, then hopped down just as Mr. Ellis arrived with Pete, the school custodian.
“They’re in there!” said Mr. Ellis, pointing inside the classroom. That’s when he noticed Jaclyn standing dumbfounded in the middle of the room, holding the terrarium. “Jaclyn! I didn’t see you come into class.”
“I . . . uh . . . ,” Jaclyn stammered, sure that she had been caught.
Mr. Ellis gave her a heartfelt look. “And you stayed behind to clean up the spiders. What a perfect student!”
Chapter Ten
Not Ready for Human Consumption
After school, Paige and Fatima met up at their usual spot by the vending machine right next to the gym. The selection in the machine was bleak. Earlier in the year, Miss Carver had caught Hunter Seagram shaking the vending machine when his bag of chips got stuck. As punishment, Miss Carver had removed all the buttons for the good snacks. The only options left were no-salt saltine crackers and a toxic-looking soda called Caffeine-Free Diet Blue. Paige pressed both buttons.
“Ugh! How can you eat no-salt saltines?” asked Fatima.
Paige grinned. “What Miss Carver doesn’t know is how much salt is in the Diet Blue!” She poured a splash of soda onto a cracker and scarfed it down.
Fatima shuddered. “What are we going to do about Jackie?”
Paige bit her lip nervously. “I don’t know. I hope I never see that goblin girl again.”
Fatima couldn’t help herself. “Well, Paige, I don’t know if she’s technically a goblin—”
“You know what I mean!”
Jaclyn poked her head around the corner “Hey. It’s me,” she said softly. She was back to her regul
ar self. Her hair no longer looked like she’d been shocked by an electrical socket. Her eyes had changed back from green to brown.
But Paige was still skeptical. “Prove it,” she said, shielding herself behind the vending machine.
“Look,” Jaclyn said, unzipping her backpack. “I organized all my textbooks alphabetically based on the author’s hometown.”
Fatima nodded. “It’s her.”
Paige wrapped up Jaclyn in a big hug.
“I’m so sorry, guys,” said Jaclyn.
“You’d better be!” said Fatima. “I’m on the track team now, and you almost made Paige read a book!”
Jaclyn half laughed and half sobbed. She leaned against the wall and sank down to the floor. “What am I going to do?”
Fatima and Paige crouched down next to her.
“What are we going to do?” Paige corrected her.
“Remember when I stormed the mayor’s office to get an interview for the paper, and you convinced him not to call security?” said Fatima.
Jaclyn gave a little nod.
“Yeah!” Paige said. “And remember at the sixth grade dance when I felt weird about being the tallest kid in our grade, so you showed up on stilts?”
“We’re going to help you get through this,” said Fatima.
“You’d do the same for us,” said Paige.
“But this is really, really, really bad,” said Jaclyn.
“Lucky for you, you have really, really, really good friends.” Fatima grinned.
Jaclyn couldn’t help but smile a little.
Just then, Miss Carver’s sharp voice crackled through the PA system. “Attention, everyone! Stop speaking this instant and listen to your principal! The school musical premieres this evening at seven p.m. A friendly reminder to all students who are in the musical”—she cleared her throat—“if you miss a single line, if you sing a single note off-key, if you mess up a single dance step, you’ll wish you’d never set foot on a stage! You’d better not embarrass me because you do not want to see me when I’m angry! Now, break a leg!” The speaker clicked off.
“Wow,” said Fatima. “Coming from Miss Carver, that was a friendly reminder.”
Jaclyn’s eyes widened. “I only have a few hours before I have to be in costume for the musical!”
Paige scratched her head. “If only there was a way to reverse the potion. Like an anti-potion potion!”
“You mean an antidote?” said Fatima.
“What’s a dote?” said Paige. “You mean like a dote bag?”
“You’re thinking of tote bag,” said Fatima. “But also, great idea.”
“What do you mean?” said Paige.
Fatima zipped up her leather jacket. “We have to go back to Enfield Manor.”
“What?! Are you crazy? No way!” said Paige.
“Yes way. If there’s an antidote, the formula must be in that notebook we found in Dr. Enfield’s desk.”
“But what about Lord Creepy with his bag full of murder tools?” said Paige.
“Relax,” said Fatima. “He probably won’t even be there.”
Once again, Jaclyn, Paige, and Fatima found themselves on Cedar Street. As they biked toward Enfield Manor, the fog was so thick it was like they were pedaling through a raincloud. They parked their bikes and hid behind a mossy tree a few yards away from the wrought-iron gate. They peered around the tree and saw a figure in the front yard. It was the same man they’d seen inside the house the day before.
“You said he wouldn’t be here,” Paige whispered.
“I said probably,” Fatima huffed.
The man reached into his canvas duffel bag and pulled out a rusty metal tool.
“What’s he doing?” Jaclyn whispered.
“Shh!” Fatima waved her hand.
The man raised the tool high in the air, then brought it down to the ground with a SQUELCH.
“Oh my god!” Paige squeaked. “He’s chopping up a body!”
Jaclyn let out a soft scream.
The man turned. Red liquid dripped down his gloves and onto the ground.
“Is that—blood?!” said Jaclyn.
“Forget it!” Paige whispered. “Jackie can throw as many books at me as she wants. Let’s get out of here!”
“Wait,” said Fatima. She took a few steps forward.
“Fati, what are you doing? Get back here!” Jaclyn said through gritted teeth.
Fatima moved closer and squinted so she could see through the fog.
Jaclyn and Paige covered their eyes. They couldn’t bear to look.
Fatima spun around. “Tomatoes.”
“What?” Jaclyn asked.
“He’s picking tomatoes.”
“Out of a dead body?!” Paige said, horrified.
Fatima sighed. “No.”
Jaclyn stepped out from behind the tree and looked for herself. Fatima was right. The man wasn’t a murderer. He was a gardener.
“Come on. Follow me.”
Ever since they had snuck into Enfield Manor, Fatima had been thinking about the article she wanted to write about Dr. Cornelius Enfield. She had scoured the internet for anything she could find—but there was surprisingly little information about him. She figured now was the perfect time to find out more.
Fatima approached the gate and said, “Excuse me, sir!”
“AAAGH!” the man jumped back, dropping his shovel. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”
“We scared you?” said Paige.
“Not a lot of people come around anymore. I don’t know why. There’s nothing to be afraid of—except for the occasional oversized rat.” He took off his gloves and opened the gate, then extended his hand. “I’m Henry, by the way. I’m the groundskeeper.”
The girls introduced themselves, and Fatima told Henry she was working on an article about Dr. Enfield for the Fog Island Middle School Gazette.
“I’d be happy to help you out. I suppose I know as much about Dr. Enfield as anyone,” said Henry.
Fatima pulled a notebook and pencil out of the pocket of her leather jacket.
“Was he really a mad scientist?” Paige blurted out.
Fatima held up her hand. “Let me handle this.” She turned back to Henry. “What kind of science did he do exactly?”
“Chemistry, I suppose. There were always odd sounds and strange stenches coming from his lab. Dr. Enfield probably went through a fire extinguisher every other week. But”—he frowned—“near the end of his life, he became obsessed with one project. He worked on it day and night. It got to the point where he never left the house. I don’t even think he slept.”
Fatima scribbled in the notebook, trying to keep up. “What was the project?”
Henry rubbed his chin. “Some kind of concoction to make people perfect.”
Jaclyn and Paige locked eyes with each other.
Henry continued, “It always seemed like a bad idea to me. You can’t squash out your imperfections. It’ll drive you crazy.”
A chill ran down Jaclyn’s spine.
Fatima tapped her pencil on her chin. “Dr. Enfield died five years ago. Why do you still take care of this place?”
“I’ve worked here for over thirty years,” said Henry. “When Dr. Enfield passed away, he left the estate to me.”
“You live in that creepy old house?” Paige exclaimed.
“No,” Henry chuckled. “I live over there.”
Henry pointed to a small guest house behind the manor. It had stone walls and a red door. The grass surrounding it was dotted with purple and yellow flowers. Warm light glowed in the windows, and wisps of smoke rose from the chimney, dissolving into the fog.
“By yourself?” asked Fatima.
Henry’s eyes flickered to the ground. “Now, yes. I used to live there with my wife, Greta.” He flipped open his wallet and showed them a picture of a woman with curly red hair and a friendly smile.
Jaclyn recognized the woman immediately from the picture in Melanie’s yearbook. “That’s G
reta Goodman!”
“The old principal?” said Fatima.
Henry nodded. “That’s right. She loved Fog Island Middle School—and the students loved her. Why wouldn’t they? She had this amazing ability to see the goodness in each and every one of them.”
“Well, believe me, we wish she was still around,” said Paige.
Henry smiled weakly. “So do I.”
“What do you mean?” Fatima asked.
“After she retired, she left Fog Island . . . and me. I found a letter that just said, ‘I’m leaving.’ I never heard from her again. I never understood why. I thought we were so happy together.” He dusted some dirt off his sleeve. “Anyway. I try to keep the place nice. I guess I have this silly hope that one day she might come back.”
There was a long silence.
“Listen, girls, I promised myself I would finish picking these tomatoes before supper. If you want to have a look around the house, be my guest. Just be careful.”
“Thanks,” said Jaclyn.
He winked. “Anything for the students of Fog Island Middle School.”
The girls walked up the stone path and into the house.
Jaclyn looked around the sitting room. “Charles?” she called out hopefully. But there was no sign of him.
Fatima gave her a sympathetic look. “We have to get the notebook.”
As they walked to Dr. Enfield’s lab, Paige said, “That Henry guy is so nice. I can’t believe we thought he was a murderer!”
“Well,” said Fatima, “if you hang around a creepy old house covered in tomato juice, people are bound to make assumptions.”
Jaclyn pulled the dusty notebook out of Dr. Enfield’s desk drawer. Paige and Fatima gathered around her as she flipped through the pages. As she looked at the writing more closely, it became clear that the pages were filled with different versions of the Perfection Potion formula. Each formula had one ingredient in common, rotten apples fresh from the tree. Other than that, there were all kinds of different measurements and instructions. All the pages were marked up with X’s and question marks. In red ink at the bottom of each page were the words:
Not ready for human consumption.
“Do you see anything about an antidote?” Fatima asked.
“Not yet.” Jaclyn flipped all the way to the back, just past the page she had torn out. She found a series of notes scribbled in blue ink.
Jaclyn Hyde Page 6
