I Live in Your Basement (6 page)

“Marco? Are you awake?” he asked softly. “I’m Dr. Bailey.”

He didn’t look anything like the Dr. Bailey in my dream. He had wavy blond
hair and bright blue eyes. He was young and tanned. He looked like an actor—a
TV doctor—not a doctor in real life.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and whispery. “A little dizzy?
Do you have a headache?”

“A little,” I replied.

“That’s normal,” he said. “Let me just check you out, Marco. Bet you’re ready
to go home.”

“I’m ready,” I declared.

“Well, let’s see…” Dr. Bailey said, studying my eyes. “Your eyes look
nice and clear. That’s a very good sign. Open your mouth, please.”

I opened my mouth.

The doctor reached in with his right hand. He grabbed my tongue. And started
to pull it.

“Hey—!” I tried to protest. But I couldn’t speak.

His fingers tightened their grip on my tongue. And he pulled harder.

Stop! You’re hurting me! What are you doing?

That’s what I wanted to shout.

But all I could get out was a muffled, “Haaaaaah?”

Dr. Bailey tugged hard on my tongue. It slid out of my mouth, as long as a
hot dog.

I struggled to squirm away. But he held my chest down with one hand while he
pulled my tongue with the other.

Pulled… pulled…

My tongue was a yard long. It drooped down the side of the bed.

Dr. Bailey reached deeper into my mouth and pulled.

Pulled out more tongue. More…

Yard after yard. My tongue curled on the floor, wet and pink.

I tossed my head back and struggled to breathe.

As the doctor pulled… pulled more tongue from my open mouth.

More tongue. More…

My tongue piled up like an endless wet snake on the floor beside the bed.

Humming to himself, Dr. Bailey continued to pull.

It’s a dream, I told myself. Another frightening nightmare.

I shut my eyes tight and willed myself to wake up, to lift myself from the
dream.

Wake up, Marco! Wake up! Wake up!

But when I opened my eyes, the doctor still hunched beside me, pulling out my
tongue. Pulling… pulling…

It wasn’t a dream.

And then I woke up.

And stared up at the white squares on the ceiling.

I pulled myself onto my elbows. Sweat poured down my forehead. My head
throbbed.

“Dr. Bailey—?” I choked out.

Gone.

Blinking away my confusion, I glanced around the room. The white curtains
fluttered over the half-open window. A bed against the far wall stood empty.

All alone.

I was all alone in the hospital room.

I glanced down at the floor, expecting to see a pink coiled pile of my
tongue.

No. The floor was clean. I moved my tongue against my teeth. My normal-sized
tongue.

I uttered a long, relieved sigh.

I’m okay, I thought. And I’m awake. I’m finally awake.

No more disgusting nightmares.

I heard heavy footsteps in the hall. I turned to the door in time to see a
giant
enter the room!

The man smiled at me and rubbed his stubbly black beard. He had to be at
least seven feet tall! He ducked his head as he stepped into the room. He had
bushy black hair and thick black eyebrows that looked like caterpillars floating
over his eyeglasses.

His white lab coat hung loosely over his long body. A stethoscope bobbed
against his broad chest as he walked.

“Feeling a little better, Marco?” he asked. “I’m Dr. Bailey.”

“Uh… are you the
real
Dr. Bailey?” I blurted out.

He furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” I started. “The other Dr. Bailey… I mean… the Dr. Bailey in
my dream…”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress sank under his weight. He
studied me with his eyes for a long moment. “Yes, yes. I’m a little troubled by
these dreams of yours,” he said finally.

He placed the end of the stethoscope on my chest and listened for a few
seconds. “Heartbeat is completely normal,” he reported.

He frowned. “Your mother and your sister are down in the hospital cafeteria.
They’ll be up in a minute. They told me about your dreams,” he said quietly. “Your mom said you were a little confused by them. And frightened.”

I nodded. “They were scary. And they seemed so real. The colors were so real.
And…” I didn’t know what else to say.

Dr. Bailey nodded. “I want to keep you here one more night, Marco,” he said,
tucking the stethoscope under his lab coat. “Your X rays are okay. I couldn’t
find any skull damage. The skin is bruised. But your head should heal up
nicely.”

“That’s great!” I interrupted.

He nodded again. “Yes. But I’m a little troubled by all these strange dreams
you’ve been having.”

“So I have to stay here one more night?” I asked, disappointed.

He climbed to his feet. Standing so close to me, he appeared to be a mile
high!

“Yes. One more night,” he replied, scribbling some notes on a clipboard.
“I’ll check back with you in the morning. I’m pretty sure you will be able to
leave then.”

“Thank you, doctor,” I said in a tiny voice. I couldn’t hide how upset I
felt. I really wanted to get out of that hospital.

Dr. Bailey turned at the door. “Oh. I almost forgot,” he said, shaking his
head.

He pulled a square envelope from the pocket of his lab coat. “This came for
you, Marco. A few minutes ago. While your mom and sister were downstairs. I
almost forgot to deliver it.”

He handed the envelope to me. “Get some rest,” he instructed. “I’ll do my
best to get you out of here in the morning.”

I thanked him again. I watched him duck his head as he made his way out into
the hall. Then I examined the envelope. It said FOR MARCO on the outside, in a
handwriting I didn’t recognize.

I tore the envelope open and pulled out a note. The handwriting was small and
very sloppy. I squinted hard at it and read:

Dear Marco,

Please hurry home. It’s time for you to start taking care of me.

I’m waiting for you in the basement.

Keith

A few minutes later, Mom and Gwynnie walked into the room.

“We brought you a treat,” Gwynnie announced. She handed me a Milky Way bar,
my favorite.

“The nurse said you can eat whatever you want,” Mom said. She stepped up to
the bed. “Was the doctor here? What did he say?”

“He said I can probably go home in the morning,” I told her. “But, Mom—?”

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“Aren’t you going to eat the candy bar?” Gwynnie asked.

“Later,” I replied sharply.

“But it’s your favorite!” Gwynnie insisted.

I knew what she wanted. She wanted a bite!

I ignored her and gazed up at my mother. “Mom, Dr. Bailey gave me this
letter. I don’t understand where it came from. It’s from that boy Keith. You
know. The one in my dream. But that’s impossible. How—?”

“What letter?” Mom interrupted. “Show it to me, Marco. Let me read it.”

I reached for the letter. I had set it down on top of the blanket.

No. Not there.

I fumbled around the bed for it.

No.

I sat up and searched. Had it fallen on the floor?

No. I didn’t see it there.

I lifted the pillow and peered underneath. I tugged up the sheet and blanket
and searched in the bed.

“That’s so weird,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I had it in my hand. And I
just set it down a minute ago.”

Mom and Gwynnie exchanged glances.

“No. Really!” I protested.

“Maybe you should get back into bed,” Mom said. “I don’t think Dr. Bailey
wants you walking around yet.”

“But I’ve got to find that letter,” I insisted.

“Your candy bar is melting,” Gwynnie said.

“I don’t care about the stupid candy bar!” I screamed. “I got a letter from
that boy who says he lives in our basement. And I want to prove it to you!”

“Stop screaming, Marco,” Mom scolded. “You’re not thinking clearly. You need
to rest.”

“But—but—” I sputtered.

I turned to the door as Dr. Bailey poked his head in. “There you are!” he smiled. “Marco, are you out of bed already? Feeling
stronger, huh?”

“Dr. Bailey—tell them!” I cried. “You just brought me a letter—right? Tell
them about the letter you brought me.”

Dr. Bailey’s heavy black eyebrows rose up to his forehead. “Letter?” he
asked. “What letter?”

That night, I tried not to fall asleep. I didn’t want any more nightmares. I
didn’t want to see that boy Keith again. And I didn’t want to see my sister or
anyone else opening their mouth and turning inside out.

I kept my eyes wide open and stared at the gray sky out the window. And
listened to the sounds of the hospital outside my room.

But I fell asleep, anyway. And slept hard, without a single dream.

When I awoke the next morning, Mom and Gwynnie were already in my room. Mom
was packing my bag.

I groaned and pulled myself up on one elbow.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Mom said cheerfully. “Dr. Bailey says you can go
home this morning.”

“Great!” I cried, my voice still hoarse from sleep. My head ached. My hand
shot up to the bandage on the side of my head.

“Don’t touch it,” Mom warned. “Your head will hurt for a while. But you’re
okay.”

I lowered my legs to the floor. I felt a little dizzy, but I stood up.

“Dr. Bailey says you can go back to school as soon as you feel strong
enough,” Mom said.

“You’re so lucky!” Gwynnie exclaimed. “You missed all the tests—and a
really bad-news assembly with bagpipe players.”

“Get dressed,” Mom instructed.

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I practically dove into my clothes.

I was so happy to be going home, I wanted to sing and dance. I even hugged
Gwynnie, for the first time in my life! “I’m sorry I dreamed you weren’t my
sister,” I told her.

“Yuck! Don’t hug me again,” Gwynnie replied, making a face. “You’re scaring
me, Marco. You’d better start acting normal!”

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ll be normal. As soon as we get home, I’ll be
as normal as a person can be!”

And I meant it.

When we arrived home, I kissed the front door! I was so happy. I’d only been
away for two days—but it seemed like two years!

Mom got to work in the kitchen, making a homemade pizza. My favorite food.
Mom puts lots of cheese on her pizza, and slices of hot dogs instead of
pepperoni.

She usually makes a pizza only on weekends. But today was a special day, a
day to celebrate.

Jeremy came over that afternoon. He apologized for hitting me in the head
with the bat.

I told him I didn’t even remember how it happened.

“I’m not sure, either,” Jeremy replied. “You were standing behind me. I
didn’t see you there at all. It was my turn at bat. I took a practice swing, and…
BAM
.”

I struggled to remember. But it didn’t come back to me.

“I’m really sorry, Marco,” Jeremy apologized again.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I told him. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“Maybe you knocked some sense into him!” Gwynnie replied from the den door.

“Get out of here, Gwynnie!” I shouted. “What are you doing out there in the
hall? Spying on us?”

“Why would I spy on you?” she shot back. “You’re too boring!”

I think Gwynnie has a crush on Jeremy. She’s always showing off when he comes
over.

“Mom rented some movies. We’re going to watch one now,” I called to her. “Are
you going to watch it with us?”

“Bor-ring!” she replied. But she plopped down on the arm of the couch,
anyway. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What movie?”

I pulled out an Indiana Jones movie I’d seen about ten times. “This one is
cool,” I said. “Let’s watch it again.”

Mom usually doesn’t let us watch movies in the middle of the afternoon. She
says it’s bad for our eyes.

But today was a special day.

Homemade pizza and an Indiana Jones movie. It doesn’t get much better than
that—right?

The three of us sat in the den, eating slice after slice and watching the
movie. Mom kept interrupting every few minutes to ask how I felt.

Each time, I told her, “Fine.”

But near the end of the movie, my head started to ache. I felt tired and a
little shaky.

I decided I’d better take a nap. I said good-bye to Jeremy and told him I’d
call him later to go over our homework. Then I went up to my room.

With a weary sigh, I sat down on the bed and pulled off my sneakers. Then I
tugged down the covers.

I started to climb into bed—but I suddenly had the strange feeling I was
being watched.

I turned away from the bed—and saw a boy leaning in the doorway.

“Jeremy—?” I called out.

No. As he stepped into the room, I recognized him.

Keith.

I blinked once.

Twice.

Trying to make him disappear.

But he crossed the room steadily, slowly, his dark eyes locked on me.

“No way!” I cried, jumping to my feet. “You can’t be here! I dreamed you!”

“I know,” he replied calmly.

“I dreamed you!” I shouted. “And I’m awake now. I know I’m awake!”

I pinched my arm. I scratched my cheek.

“Ow!” It hurt.

I was awake. Definitely awake. Not dreaming.

“You can’t be here, Keith!” I repeated, my knees shaking, my whole body
trembling. “No way you can be here. I’m awake now. And you don’t exist!”

Keith stopped a few feet in front of me. “Sure, I do,” he replied. A smile
spread over his solemn face. His dark eyes flashed. “I live in your basement, Marco. You know that.
I told you that before.”