CHAPTER 15

EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Osmophobia is the fear of smells.

After breakfast, the foursome made a quick stop at the Fearnasium for yet another imaginary exercise, before heading toward the classroom. Madeleine was a bit green again, for despite every intention not to, she had imagined large lifelike spiders all over her arm. Emotionally exhausted, she wished desperately for a pleasant distraction.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Wellington. Yesterday I believe you referred to a library. While I can’t speak for the others, I would very much enjoy the company of a book.”

“Oh yes, the library. No school is complete without a library. It’s rather conveniently located next to the classroom,” Mrs. Wellington said while pointing to a triangle-shaped door.

A shiny copper bell decorated the northernmost tip of the brown triangular door. Due to the small stature of the door, Mrs. Wellington was forced to hunch over and hold her wig as she entered.

While libraries certainly weren’t out of the ordinary in mansions as grand as Summerstone, this particular type of library was rather unusual. Instead of books neatly placed on the shelves, there were glass jars. Every shelf but one was jammed full of jars. The most potent of all the library’s contents sat alone on a bronze-plated shelf near the ceiling.

Inside the various jars were lumps, bumps, and humps of various colors from pink to black, although most resembled the color of an unripe banana, a yellowish green.

“What did you do with the books?” Theo implored after scanning the walls.

“Books? This is the Library of Smelly Foods.”

“Of what?” Lulu asked with disgust.

“Impressive, isn’t it? We have an entire wall dedicated to cheese alone. Then there’s clams, gefilte fish, rotten eggs, boiled cabbage, kimchi, sardines, durian fruit, plus all the items that have grown smelly with mold and time. You won’t believe how much a tuna sandwich from the bicentennial reeks.”

“What’s the bicentennial?” Garrison asked.

“It was the two-hundred-year anniversary of the founding of your country,” Madeleine said dreamily to Garrison. “It occurred in 1976.”

“Honestly, Garrison, she’s not even American and she knows that,” Lulu said condescendingly.

“Oh, like you knew what it was?” Garrison rebuked.

“Guys, just admit that Madeleine is smarter than both of you and move on,” Theo said earnestly.

“Smarter than us? I hope you aren’t insinuating that you are smarter than we are, Friar Tuck,” Lulu said cattily.

“Yeah,” Garrison chimed in uselessly. “Wait, who is Friar Tuck?”

“He’s Robin Hood’s fat, I mean plump, friend,” Madeleine explained.

“See, she is smarter than you guys,” Theo bellowed victoriously.

“No, she’s smarter than Garrison,” Lulu explained, “not me.”

Madeleine sighed loudly before crossing her arms angrily.

“I could wipe the floor with all of you in any sport,” Garrison said defensively.

“There should be no wiping or even touching of the floors — they are filled with bacteria,” Theo interjected.

“Shut up!” Lulu and Garrison raged in unison.

“There’s no need to yell at him,” Madeleine said calmly.

“Thank you. Finally, someone who understands me,” Theo said theatrically.

Lulu sighed with irritation while rolling her eyes.

“You know the eye muscles are like any other muscle; they get bigger when you exercise them,” Theo said.

“Because you know so much about exercise,” Lulu said rudely.

“Don’t blame me if your eyes bulge out of your head!”

“Theo, enough,” Madeleine said while spraying repellent.

“Fine, but I’ll have you know that stuff isn’t just toxic for the bugs.”

“Regret defending him yet?” Lulu asked Madeleine.

Mrs. Wellington remained utterly oblivious on the other side of the library. She was far too enraptured by the various jars to listen to the sparring children. From the tip of her nose, she inspected the finely typed label on the top of each jar. After squinting heavily, Mrs. Wellington relented and put on her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Gather round,” Mrs. Wellington said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Lulu, Garrison, Madeleine, and Theo inched closer to Mrs. Wellington to inspect the strange brown substance in the jar. Lulu stood perfectly still as her left eye pulsated and bulged with stress. Irrationally, Lulu empathized with the foreign substance, imagining herself in miniature, confined to the jar.

Mrs. Wellington tried to twist off the top. She turned and turned but nothing happened. Her face contorted and her knuckles flashed white as she battled to open the jar.

“This … is … a … tricky fellow … ,” Mrs. Wellington uttered between breaths. “It’s … all … the … gases … that … form … over … time.”

“I hope the gas isn’t flammable,” Theo said.

“Does anyone have a match?” Lulu offered snidely while staring down Theo.

“Al … most … there … ,” Mrs. Wellington huffed.

“Fire safety is nothing to laugh about, Lulu,” Theo ranted.

“Loo means toilet in England,” Madeleine offered absentmindedly.

“That is not true,” Lulu yelled at Madeleine, instantly flustering the girl behind the veil.

“I am going to call you Toilet Toilet!” Theo bellowed with laughter.

“Don’t you dare, chubs!”

Lulu pushed up her sleeves, prepared to slap Theo if he said one more thing. Madeleine lowered her head in regret, wondering why she had chosen that moment to share such information. And Garrison wondered if he should offer to help the old woman with the jar.

“Got it!” Mrs. Wellington screamed as the top popped off.

The wretched odor exploded into the room, destroying the olfactory senses of all the students. Their eyes crossed, their knees weakened, and their throats constricted. It was the single most offensive aroma they had ever experienced; a ghastly combination of feet, cow manure, vomit, and babies’ diapers.

Mrs. Wellington appeared oblivious to the smell, while Theo dry-heaved loudly. Across Madeleine’s left and right feet were the bodies of two cats who had literally fainted from the stench. Lulu’s left eye pulsated harshly as she moved toward the door. Garrison pulled his shirt over his mouth and followed Lulu to the Great Hall.

Once in the hallway, the foursome tried to flush their nasal cavities with clean air. Theo dry-heaved again, placing his face between his knees. Madeleine stood over him, spraying herself, worried that the smell might have carried invisible organisms or spores that could burrow in her skin.

“I don’t feel so good,” Lulu mumbled. “Madeleine, will you spray some of that stuff on me? My clothes smell awful.”

Madeleine stood over Theo and Lulu and sprayed them like a farmer dusting crops. Then, the girl turned with flushed cheeks to Garrison.

“Would you care for some?”

“Sure.”

Madeleine savored the proximity to Garrison, standing closer to him than his own shadow.

“I think it works better if you stand farther back,” Garrison said.

“Oh, yes. I was trying out a new method, but it appears less effective,” Madeleine bumbled with embarrassment.

The door to the library creaked open and Mrs. Wellington exited with a cat under each arm.

“Are they okay?” Theo asked, upset at the sight of the animals.

“Of course; cats are carnivores. They love steak.”

“Steak?” Lulu asked. “That was steak?”

“Oh, yes. Sirloin steak circa 1990.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What is the purpose of a library dedicated to smelly food?” Madeleine asked.

“That may have caused permanent damage to my esophagus,” Theo said seriously.

“Silly, silly boy,” Mrs. Wellington laughed. “And to answer your question, the Library of Smelly Foods is used to keep Schmidty in line with the Casu Frazigu. Every time he complains, claiming he can’t bear another bite of it, I bring him in here. After a few whiffs, his taste buds can’t wait to get back to the Frazigu. Plus it is rather helpful when I get a contestant terrified of dairy products.”

“I think I inhaled deadly spores from that steak. A vegetarian dying from steak — the cruel irony,” Theo blubbered from the floor.

“Dear boy, you have such an exasperating temperament,” she said with her lips darkening to an alarming shade of fuchsia, even for her.