Chapter 9

VISITING DAY

I stared out the classroom window thinking about everything going on in my life, including Fernando’s upcoming visit. As I stared, I noticed that the trees beyond the school fence were beginning to turn bright red and orange. I wouldn’t have seen that last year locked in Mrs. Lutzkraut’s gray class, where the shades were forever drawn. Mrs. Lutzkraut. She was my greatest enemy—worse than the Boss and Trevor combined. Luckily, she was in Shady Pastures and couldn’t bother me anymore. I guess after the bulldozer incident at Camp Wy-Mee . . .

“Rodney?” Mr. Witlacker’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Yes?” I asked my history teacher.

“What’s your take on the reading? What do you think of the Trail of Tears?”

Huh? I hadn’t heard a word. Trail of Tears? Tears . . . “Uhh, it was sad?” I managed. I knew I was about to get in trouble for staring out the window.

“Wonderful answer, Rodney! I think sadness summarizes it beautifully. Maybe you can follow up with some specifics about the Cherokee.”

Cherokee? I couldn’t think of anything. Wait . . . “It’s an SUV, made by Jeep, right?” A few kids giggled. Kayla whispered with a nasty smile, “Nice going, genius.”

“Excellent, Rodney,” Mr. Witlacker nodded.

“Huh?” Kayla blurted. “Jeeps have nothing to do with Native Americans and Andrew Jackson. Rodney wasn’t listening! He was staring out the window like a zombie.” There were a couple of more giggles.

“Kayla,” Mr. Witlacker continued, “I can see how you might have missed it, but I believe Rodney was trying to take our conversation to the next level. The horrible treatment of the Cherokee has weighed heavily on our nation. As a result, we see that an American car company has used their tribal name as a form of social apology. That was your point, right, Rodney?”

“Exactly.”

“You see, Kayla?”

I turned to face Kayla. She was shaking in her seat and ready to blow.

Mr. Witlacker smiled at me. “I drive a Cherokee, by the way.”

“It’s a nice looking truck, sir,” I said.

“It’s got air-conditioned seats.”

“Uhhhggggg,” Kayla groaned, snapping her pencil in half.

Boy, Rishi, I thought, you sure can pick ’em.

Beep. The classroom phone rang. Mr. Witlacker picked it up. “Hello? Yes, he’s here . . . Oh? Okay . . . bye.”

Mr. Witlacker looked at me. “Rodney, you’re wanted in the principal’s office. Bring your things.”

Bring my things? That meant I wasn’t returning. Some kids in back of me went “Uh-oh” and Kayla added, “Good! You’re in trouble. Why don’t you drive a Cherokee down to the principal’s office . . .”

Mr. Witlacker frowned. “That’s enough, Miss Radisson.”

Was Kayla right? Was I in trouble? What had gone wrong now? My mind scrolled through all the possibilities. When nothing came up I let myself breathe a sigh of relief.

Had I known what was coming, I would have escaped down my own Trail of Tears and never looked back.

Things didn’t start bad. The secretary in the office said, “Hello Rodney, have a seat on the bench. Your mom is picking you up soon for the doctor’s appointment.”

Oh, so that was it. But what doctor’s appointment? Maybe she mentioned it the other night. Must be a checkup. I probably wasn’t listening.

As I sat on the bench outside the office, I smiled to myself thinking about all the times last year outside Mr. Feebletop’s office. He would have called me in and started talking about the New York Mets. Stepping into his office was like visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame, with signed posters on the walls and everything. I craned my neck around and peered into my current principal’s office. The walls were empty. The office was neat and sparse. The desk was almost completely bare. No autographed baseballs. Only a computer, a stapler, a person staring at me, a pen . . . Yikes!

“Can I help you?” It was the first time Dr. Elizabeth Stone had said anything to me. I’d seen her before standing in the hall looking serious. She was just as serious now. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun and her face was as emotionless and blank as her office.

“Um, no. Sorry to be looking in. I was just curious.”

Her face didn’t move. “You’re that Rodney Rathbone I’ve heard so much about.”

“Yes, I am.” I puffed up my chest a little. Sometimes my reputation was a good thing.

“I hear you’re pretty active in the community.”

“I try to get involved.” Why be modest?

“That impresses some people. Do you know what impresses me?”

“No.”

“I appreciate students who follow the rules. Students that work hard and make academics their priority. The stories I hear about you and that restaurant . . .” She paused and straightened the pen on her desk. “The stories tell me you have a lot of other things going on. Perhaps you don’t share my priorities.”

So much for my reputation. “Well I—”

“I’m not interested in what you have to say. I’m interested in the decisions you make from this point forward. Now, I need to return to work. Please remove your head from my doorway.”

I didn’t have much time to ponder Dr. Stone’s warm and fuzzy advice before my mom showed up and signed me out. One second I was sitting in class, the next I was driving to a doctor’s appointment I didn’t even know I had.

We made our way through town and then headed out toward the country. As we drove along I decided to ask my mom about Fernando visiting. I was happy when she said it was okay. She was hesitant at first but seemed glad that I was maintaining a camp friendship. While discussing Fernando, I told a couple of silly stories from camp. Mom told me a few of her own childhood summer stories. They were pretty funny and the ride went by quickly. After a while I just looked out the window at passing cows and farms. “Mom,” I finally asked, “what doctor am I going to all the way out here? I don’t remember you saying anything about a checkup and I definitely have never been here before.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything. For a moment I studied her face, watching her round sunglasses reflecting the road.

“Uh, Mom?”

“Rodney, you’re really going to enjoy today.”

“I’m going to enjoy the doctor’s?”

“Rodney, I got a phone call, and let’s just say you’re going to have a special surprise today.”

My heart started beating a little quicker. “You know, Mom, contrary to what you and Dad believe, I don’t like surprises.”

“Oh, come on, Rodney, everyone likes surprises.”

“I never like them, and they never turn out good.”

“You didn’t like camp?”

“Well, that was different. I wound up liking it, but that was because—”

“Oh, stop your worrying. Look, we’re here.”

We made a sharp turn through a large iron gate onto a long tree-lined driveway. The sun was shining and the sky was blue, but something felt a bit off as we approached the brick building looming at the end of the drive. My mom pulled to a halt in front of the main doors and a guy in a white shirt approached the car. “Hello, ma’am,” he said. “May I take your car?”

“Valet service.” My mom smiled. “How nice.”

As we got out and the valet drove off I suddenly realized that maybe she was taking me on a surprise restaurant review. Before I had a chance to ask, two guys in uniforms ran out the door. One of them turned to my mom. “Have you seen Johnny?”

“Johnny? You mean the valet?”

The man didn’t answer. Instead he shouted into his walkie-talkie, “Johnny’s mobile.”

The other man said to us, “Don’t worry, we’ll get your car back.”

“He’s not the valet?” my mom asked, beginning to sound alarmed

“No, he’s a patient. But he’s an excellent driver.”

Before my mom could say anything the two men sped off in a van, kicking up gravel and leaving us standing in a cloud of dust. “I guess we might as well go in,” she suggested after a minute, looking a little uneasy.

“Mom, what is going on?” I asked. “Where are we?”

Just then, a guy carrying a clipboard and wearing thick black glasses walked over to us. “What’s all the commotion?” he asked. “I’m Dr. Pecans. May I help you?”

My mother stared at him for a minute before asking, “Are you really Dr. Pecans?”

“Yes, I am. You must be Gloria Rathbone. We spoke on the phone. And this must be the famous Rodney Rathbone. Please, come upstairs to my office. Oh, and welcome to Shady Pastures.”

My mom and I sat in two leather chairs facing Dr. Pecans, who was seated at his desk. To his left was a wall completely covered with books. Behind him was an open window—which I was ready to jump out. My mom and her surprises.

Dr. Pecans looked directly at me when he spoke. “I’m so glad you could make the trip out here on visiting day. I so appreciate it. I think it will make such a positive difference in one of our patients . . .”

I stood up and shouted, “I know who you’re talking about! I also know there’s nothing I can do to help her. I’m definitely the last person on earth she’d want to see, and I . . .”

Dr. Pecans raised his palms to me and motioned for me to sit back down. “Rodney, let’s just talk for a second. So, you realize that you’re here to see Mrs. Lutzkraut.” Hearing the name out loud caused me to shudder. “Now Rodney, you are aware that Mrs. Lutzkraut suffered quite a disappointment during the summer.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“From what I understand, she was about to become a millionaire when some, uh, young person caused a change in her fortunes.”

I smiled, remembering how I had ruined her plans to bulldoze Camp Wy-Mee.

“When she transferred here,” he continued, “all she could do was mutter your name.” Dr. Pecans looked at me with an accusing eye. “Over and over, day and night, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney . . .” He trailed off and stared out the window, his lips still mouthing my name. Finally he remembered us sitting there and spun around. “It was awful!” My mom and I jumped. He settled down and took a deep breath. “Anyway, that’s all over now. To speak frankly, we recently had an unexpected breakthrough. I believe our dear friend is well enough to return to society.”

My mom grabbed my knee. “Isn’t that wonderful, Rodney?”

My mouth just kind of hung there and I felt like I needed to visit the bathroom.

Dr. Pecans said, “I can see you’re happy to hear it!”

Happy? This guy was clueless. I decided to set him straight. “Mrs. Lutzkraut belongs here,” I said. “She’s evil, and if you think she’s made some great recovery, she’s fooling you. Trust me, I know her. And I have no idea why I’m even here. She hates me—”

“Rodney, that’s not true,” my mom cut in. “She always told me how much she adores you.” She turned back to Dr. Pecans. “She may come across as a bit stern, but she’s a very dedicated teacher. She even stopped by our house one time when she had some concerns about Rodney’s difficulty socializing. Not too many teachers would take the time to do that.”

I remembered the visit. “Mom, she was secretly threatening me and plotting my end . . .”

My mom shook her head. “Rodney, the only thing she was plotting was a wonderful summer for you! You loved Camp Wy-Mee. She’s done so much for you. Now’s your chance to help her in return.”

This conversation was going nowhere. I tried one last time. “Mom, I have no problem helping people. I’ll help at the soup kitchen. I’ll make valentines for veterans. I’ll talk to anyone else here. I’ll even go for rides with Johnny downstairs. Just don’t make me see Mrs. Lutzkraut!”

“Rodney,” Dr. Pecans interrupted, “many times we act most hostile to the people for whom we feel the greatest emotional interest.”

Huh? I had no idea what he was talking about.

“If you’ve had difficulty with her,” he continued, “it’s most likely because she has such strong feelings for you and wants you to do well.”

I remembered Mrs. Lutzkraut laughing and high-fiving Mr. Cramps as my canoe and I barreled toward Breakneck Rapids. “Yeah, Doctor,” I said. “You really got her figured out.” I looked at his diplomas hanging on the wall and noted which universities to avoid in the future.

Dr. Pecans smiled. “So, you’ll help her then?”

“No!”

“Rodney,” snapped my mom, “you most certainly are going to help Mrs. Lutzkraut. I’m sorry, Dr. Pecans. I can’t understand why he’s acting like this. I’m very disappointed.”

Dr. Pecans reached out and patted his desk in some sort of soothing way. Then he said, “Come. It’s time we visit Mrs. Lutzkraut. This will be the final test and the main reason I asked you here, Rodney. If she can see you without returning to her former agitated state, then we will know our work at Shady Pastures is complete.”

I looked at Dr. Pecans and my mom and realized there was no way out of it. I was about to visit my greatest enemy.

Mrs. Lutzkraut’s room was in another building. We went outside and passed by a well-kept garden where a number of people were sitting around on benches. One group of men was playing cards. Two women were busy painting. “I think nature is wonderfully therapeutic,” Dr. Pecans droned on. “I always try to get my patients outdoors as much as possible. Unfortunately, we’ve had a difficult time getting Mrs. Lutzkraut outside on a regular basis. When we do get her out, we always bring her to the nicest place on the grounds.”

“Where’s that?” my mom asked.

“Under that magnificent beech tree over there. Sadly, she usually starts grumbling about someone named Percy.”

I almost laughed. Percy Periwinkle was Mrs. Lutzkraut’s brother-in-law. He ran Camp Wy-Mee and she hated him and his beech tree as much as she hated me. “It seems like a great spot,” I said. “I wouldn’t give up on it. She’s crazy about beech trees.”

Dr. Pecans shot me a look.

“I mean, she likes them a lot.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “for today we will visit your former teacher in her room. I know this visit will go wonderfully well.”

I doubted that . . . which secretly pleased me. I knew as soon as Mrs. Lutzkraut saw me she’d go berserk. Dr. Pecans would have little choice but to write a report that kept her safely locked up for a very long time.

We reached her door. It was partly open and a yellow light shone out into the hall. Dr. Pecans pushed it slowly. I made sure to stand behind him and my mom. While I wanted my evil enemy to behave poorly, I didn’t want to get strangled in the process.

“Helga, I have a special surprise visitor for you,” Dr. Pecans called softly.

Suddenly I spotted her. She sat in a chair looking as awful and frightening as usual. She didn’t see me because her eyes were closed. I watched the lids flitter and open, magnified by her enormous glasses. They immediately stared intently into mine. For the briefest of moments they flashed their familiar glare of pure evil.

And then it was gone.

Her face broke into an enormous smile. “Why, if it isn’t Rodney Rathbone! This is a wondrous surprise. Mrs. Rathbone, so nice to see you, too! Dr. Pecans, you sure know how to make this girl happy. How did you know young Rodney was my favorite of favorites?”

I almost fainted. This couldn’t be happening. Mrs. Lutzkraut rose and hugged my mom, who had walked over to her. “So nice of you to come, Gloria. It means so much to me.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” my mom said with a teary smile. “Isn’t that right, Rodney?”

I stood gaping. My brain was just starting to process Mrs. Lutzkraut’s latest plot. She was acting completely normal and doing an excellent job of it. In a flash I realized the sickening truth. She was getting out of here.

“Look at him,” Mrs. Lutzkraut said, “he’s speechless. Come, give your old teacher a hug.” I saw her advancing toward me. My feet wouldn’t move. I couldn’t escape. It was worse than a nightmare. I felt her big, saggy arms reach around me. I wanted to scream but her embrace buried my face. “Reminds me of the hug you gave me at graduation,” she purred. Just as I thought I was going to suffocate, she released me.

“Look, Rodney,” my mom called out cheerfully, “isn’t that your picture?”

For the first time I noticed the walls. It was my picture, all right! Twenty or thirty pictures of me from the newspaper were plastered all over the room.

“Rodney, isn’t that wonderful?” my mom asked.

No, I wanted to shout, it’s amazingly creepy!

Mrs. Lutzkraut sighed. “Oh, I am so proud of him. Little Rodney, a football star.”

Dr. Pecans laughed. “When Helga saw the paper the other day, she insisted we buy every copy in town. That’s when we decided to give you a call, Mrs. Rathbone.” More quietly he whispered, “That’s when we knew she was over her obsession with Rodney.”

“I see,” my mom said.

You see? All I could see was my face staring back at me and it was absolutely frightening. I looked more closely at the walls. A couple of the faces had red circles around them with red slashes through the middle. Even worse, I noticed others looked like they were full of dart holes.

“Mom, she’s been throwing darts at the pictures!” I blurted.

Everyone in the room laughed. Dr. Pecans answered smugly, “What an imagination, Rodney. This is an old building. We have mice.”

“Who throw darts?” I asked, but it was no good. Everyone was ignoring me. Once again, Mrs. Lutzkraut had gotten her way.

Eventually, Dr. Pecans said, “Visiting hours will be ending soon. I think this little afternoon get-together was just what the doctor ordered . . . which is why I ordered it. Hahaha.”

He laughed at his own dumb joke for at least a minute. Mrs. Lutzkraut wore her best fake smile and said, “That is very funny, Dr. Pecans. By the way, why don’t you tell Gloria the joke you told me yesterday about the bird and the hippo? And since I heard it already, it will give me a chance to leave Rodney with one final hug. What do you say, Rodney?”

I didn’t move, but then my mom nudged me forward.

As Dr. Pecans and my mom yucked it up in the corner of the room, Mrs. Lutzkraut gave me another of her smothering hugs, only this time she whispered into my ear, “Dr. Moron over there will be letting me out very shortly. You and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Her embrace grew tighter. “Maybe we can start with a vocabulary lesson. Tell me, Rodney, are you familiar with the word ‘revenge’?”