Back in the other class, as soon as I saw Mr. Acidbath, I shrieked so loudly that my ghostly form became visible right next to Fritz. He got double-scared and passed out.
Penny Possum was still lying stiff as stone on the floor, playing dead.
Mr. Acidbath was the teacher whose experiment with Fear Gas had gone terribly wrong when I was still alive, turning me into the friendly ghost you know today.
“I know you probably weren’t expecting me back so soon,” said Mr. Acidbath in his high-pitched voice, “but I paid a visit to the All-Knowing Monkey of Scary Mountain. He divulged to me the secret to a speedy recovery from Fear Gas burns, and wowzy-woozy did it ever work! So here I am! Heh-heh-heh!”
Mr. Acidbath’s cackle confirmed that he was completely out of his mind. His long white hair stretched upward, outward, and sideward above his thick goggles. His goggles protected his bulging eyeballs. His eyeballs danced in different directions.
Back when Mr. Acidbath was teaching, Petunia could hear explosions echoing from his classroom every five minutes like clockwork. She was muttering in her chair, “Please don’t do an experiment. Please don’t do an experiment.”
“For our first experiment,” said Mr. Acidbath, “I thought I would pick up where I left off and show you how to make some . . . Fear Gas!”
“Noooo!” the class hollered in unison.
“Heh-heh-heh! No need to be afraid. Well, not yet anyway. The Fear Gas will take care of that.”
The class turned to Fred. He wasn’t looking like his cool relaxed self at all. His eyes were glazed. His forehead was sweating. He looked . . . scared?
Mr. Acidbath walked up to the pile of chemicals on the desk. They were still wobbling precariously as he rolled up his sleeves and reached into the pile, swiftly pulling out two beakers of liquids. The class held their breath as the rest of the chemicals slipped and tumbled on top of one another, shifting positions, clanking and clattering, molding into a new shape, yet somehow maintaining their structural integrity.
The class exhaled in unison.
“Everyone, open your chemistry textbooks and take careful notes, or you might make a mistake and kill us all.”
The students put their pencils to their notebooks, prepared to write down every word.
In one hand, Mr. Acidbath held up a jar of bubbling blue liquid. In the other hand, he held up a beaker of oozing red slime.
“This blue substance is the boiling tears of a bearodactyl. In this hand I hold griffin grease, mixed with some hot lava from the school’s playground. Watch carefully as we make . . . Fear Gas!”
Mr. Acidbath began to pour the red slime into the jar of blue bearodactyl tears. It oozed painfully slowly. The class braced themselves as the slime inched closer to the blue tears. Even Mr. Grump covered his elephant eyes with his trunk. But as long as fearless Fred was in the room, the class knew he would save them if it went wrong.
Then Fred cried out: “Oh my gosh! This isn’t a dream, is it? This is all real! Aaaaagh!”
Uh oh, everyone thought to themselves. We’re in deeeeep trouble.
Fred picked the worst possible moment to have that shocking realization. Now who would save them if Mr. Acidbath’s experiment went terribly wrong (as his experiments always did)?
Stunned by Fred’s scream, Mr. Acidbath hollered back, “Silence! This takes perfect concentration! Exactly one drop of lava with griffin grease has to fall into the tears for this to work properly. If two drops fall in, we’re all doomed! Heh-heh-heh!”
Everyone covered their mouths so not a peep would escape.
The red slime reached the tip of the beaker and began its slow descent into the bearodactyl tears, like super-thick maple syrup oozing out of a bottle. Hanging by a thin thread, it was about to break off as one drop, when suddenly the PA crackled, and the voice of Principal Headcrusher rang through the classroom. “Attention, everyone!”
The noise startled Mr. Acidbath, and a giant glob of the grease plopped out of the jar. If just two drops caused the last Fear Gas explosion, this would be enough to blow up the entire school.
Everyone, including Fred, dove under their desks and covered their heads.
“I repeat! Attention all students and faculty of Scary School,” Principal Headcrusher continued. “This is Principal Headcrusher.”
There was silence in the classroom. When no explosion happened, the class raised their heads over their desks.
“Wowzy-woozy! That was close! Looks like we have a new class hero,” Mr. Acidbath announced.
Mr. Acidbath pointed upward where Lattie—the girl in black—was hanging from the rafters by her feet, clutching the jar of bubbling blue tears. He exclaimed, “That girl appeared out of nowhere and pulled the jar away at the last moment!”
The red slime had burned a basketball-sized hole through the teacher’s desk and was sizzling on the floor. “Let’s all give her a big thank-you.”
Before anyone could say thank you, the girl in black, still hanging upside down on the rafters, stated, “One who receives kindness should never forget it. One who performs kindness should never remember it.”
The students looked at one another and scratched their heads, trying to figure out what that meant.
Principal Headcrusher’s announcement continued: “After class, everyone is to report immediately to Petrified Pavilion for an urgent assembly. If you brought jackets or sweaters with you today, make sure to bring them. That is all.”
By the way, you read about Principal Headcrusher’s announcement twice because I was floating between the walls of each classroom the moment it happened. That’s how I know what was happening in two places at once. If you ever notice weird things that don’t make sense, just remember, I’m a ghost. I can do lots of crazy stuff.
“Looks like our experiment will have to wait until after the assembly,” said Mr. Acidbath with a disappointed look. “Hopefully there won’t be any more slipups, but I can’t make any promises. Heh-heh-heh!”
Then one of the beakers of chemicals fell through the hole in the desk. The wobbling tower swayed to the right. Gasp! Then it swayed to the left. Gasp! Then it came crashing down to a cacophony of breaking glass.
“Holy cannoli! Get out of here quick!” Mr. Acidbath ordered.
The class immediately bolted out of the door as a rainbow of gases started snaking around the room, causing kids to cough, burp, and sneeze violently. Luckily, the last kid dove out of the room safely as Mr. Acidbath slammed the door shut.
Through the window in the doorway, the class watched as the gases interacted, causing booming colorful explosions. A thick cloud formed on the ceiling. Then it started to rain a sparkling green substance that burned tiny holes in everyone’s desks, turning each one into Swiss cheese.
Mr. Acidbath cackled, “Wowzy-woozy! I hope you all brought your acid-proof umbrellas today. Heh-heh-heh! I love science!”
