This is a work of fanfiction. Lewis Barnavelt, Rose Rita Pottinger, the fictional town of New Zebedee, and some other characters and details in this story are under the copyright of the Estate of John Bellairs.
This book, “Elixir of Fear”, is copyright ©Bretigne Shaffer, 2020.
Dedicated to the memory of Bradford Swain Linaweaver. The "Bad" Brad, but a good friend.
Chapter 1
Harrison didn't know why he ever thought sixth grade would be any different from fifth. Or fourth. Or third...
He stood out in front of his school, on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change so he could get home as fast as he possibly could, preferably without having to see anyone he knew. He shoved his hands down into his coat pockets and waited.
It was the first day of school, his first day of middle school. For some reason, it was on a Thursday rather than a Monday–something about teacher meetings–but it was just as well as far as Harrison was concerned. The sooner the weekend came, the better. It wasn't really cold enough yet to be wearing a coat, but Harrison usually brought one to school anyway, just in case. And today, the very first day of sixth grade, had been a "just in case" day.
He berated himself silently for ever having expected it to be any better. After all, weren't these the same kids who had been in elementary school with him? Most of them, anyway. Why would they suddenly change just because they were all in middle school now?
The light changed from a stern red hand to a friendly white walking figure, and Harrison stepped into the street–after looking both ways twice. There were dried brown leaves blowing around in front of him, but it didn't yet feel like fall. He guessed that was a good thing, because if it did, he'd probably be shivering underneath his coat, in the shirt that was still wet from this afternoon.
He went over it all again in his mind as he walked home. He had been sitting at his lunch table. Not "alone", but with some other kids he didn't know that well. Everyone was just eating their own lunch, minding their own business, when out of nowhere, Jason, Hillary and Samantha walked up to him.
He knew immediately that it wasn't good that they were there. Back in elementary school–which all of a sudden didn't seem that far away–Jason had made every effort to make Harrison's life at school unbearable. As soon as he found out that Harrison was afraid of bugs and worms, Jason pounced and began sneaking handfuls of pill bugs into Harrison's lunchbox, or his pockets. Once, Harrison found a worm in his sandwich!
His teachers weren't much help. They just told him to ignore Jason's "antics", that he was only doing it for the reaction and if Harrison didn't give him a reaction, he would stop.
They may as well have been speaking a foreign language. How was Harrison supposed to ignore opening his lunchbox to find a pile of squirmy, filthy, most probably poisonous, bugs staring him in the face?
As he got older, and learned more about the world, the list of things Harrison was afraid of expanded to include things like sharks, tornadoes, quicksand, and germs. The first three things weren't much of a worry at school, but Harrison had learned that germs were everywhere– literally everywhere! And so he began at a very young age to make a habit of always washing his hands.
Always. And everybody knew it, and everybody made fun of him for it.
So when Jason and his friends came up to him at lunchtime today, Harrison had a pretty good idea what they were up to.
And yet there was nothing he could do about it. At least that was how he felt. He hadn't yet finished his lunch. So he wasn't just going to stand up and walk away. And there wasn't anything he could do to stop Jason from doing whatever it was he was going to do. So he just sat there.
"How ya doin', Harrison?" Jason called out to him. Hillary and Samantha snickered.
Harrison turned and looked up at Jason.
"I'm alright," he said. "How are you?"
"Well," said Jason, trying and failing to conceal a grin, "that's the thing. See, I just had lunch, and now I'm not feeling so well."
"Oh," said Harrison, wishing he would go away. "That's too bad."
"Yeah," said Jason. "In fact..." he gave a sickly moan and lurched forward. The two girls stifled giggles.
"...in fact," he said with a pained expression, "I feel like I might have to... have to..."
He lurched forward once more, and letting out a roar, threw up all over Harrison's lunch!
Afterwards, Harrison realized that he hadn't thrown up at all, but had had a bag of foul looking liquids–probably parts of his lunch mixed with a carton of milk and shaken up–hidden under his jacket, and that he had pulled it out when he lurched forward, to dump it on Harrison's food.
Not that it mattered. Harrison's lunch was still ruined, and the front of his shirt was splattered with whatever blend of food and liquid Jason had tossed on his lunch. Harrison jumped up and yelled.
"You moron!" He shouted at Jason. "What do you think you're doing?!?!"
The two other kids at the table just stared for a moment, then got up quickly and left. Jason smiled and patted Harrison on the back.
"There!" He said cheerily. "Feeling better already!"
Harrison just stood there.
"Watch out though," he said as he turned to leave. "There might be some germs in there!"
The two girls burst out laughing and they all walked away, leaving Harrison to contemplate how he was going to bus his lunch tray now that it was covered in fake vomit. Finally, the bell for the end of lunch blasted, and he left the whole thing there, rather than risk being late for class and having to touch the nauseating pile of goo that lay before him.
He hurried to his locker and pulled out his "just in case" coat, putting it over his spattered shirt. He got some odd looks in class that afternoon, and a few giggles from the back of the room, but he just ignored them until the final bell rang at the end of the day.
As he trudged home, the thought occurred to him that he hated school and wanted never to return.
"His teachers weren't much help. They just told him to ignore Jason's "antics", that he was only doing it for the reaction and if Harrison didn't give him a reaction, he would stop.
They may as well have been speaking a foreign language. How was Harrison supposed to ignore opening his lunchbox to find a pile of squirmy, filthy, most probably poisonous, bugs staring him in the face?"
Sounds like it's time to put those bugs and worms in the teacher's desk. If they are no problem, he won't get into trouble. The Silver Rule applies.
And if they try to get on his case about it, he can even say Jason gave him those bugs and worms (no lie) and told him to put them in the teacher's desk. Once Jason admits giving Harrison the icky things, he's the one in trouble, not Harrison. (Not that it ever really works that way...)