Lost in the Tunnel of Time (5 page)

Mr. Lyon thanked everyone for trying out, then dismissed everyone so he could lock up the building. He never even noticed that Ziggy, Rashawn, Rico, and Jerome, instead of leaving the building and heading for the late bus, moved quickly and quietly to the stairs behind the stage.

One of the girls, however, did notice. Tiana started to say something, but she didn't want to get them in trouble. She figured Mr. Lyon would see them and chase them out of the building. Her mother arrived to pick her up, and Tiana, after one last look at the big old school building, jumped in her mom's car and went home.

Rico and Rashawn easily moved the boxes off the top of the trapdoor. It was very old and looked as if it had not been opened for many years. The lock, as
Ziggy had said, was broken. Jerome quietly removed it and lifted the large iron handle on the trapdoor.

“Give me a hand!” he whispered to his friends.

Rashawn and Ziggy grabbed the handle too. “When I count to three—pull!” directed Rashawn.

“One—two—three—PULL!”

With a strange creaking noise, as if it were yawning, the old wooden trapdoor opened slowly.

“Awesome, mon!” Ziggy exclaimed.

“Sh-sh-sh!” Rico reminded him. “We've got to be quiet!”

“What now?” asked Rashawn.

“There are steps leading down,” observed Rico nervously.

“To where?” asked Jerome.

“Let's find out!” cried Ziggy. His face showed his usual cheerful grin, but his voice seemed a little shaky.

They pulled their flashlights out of the backpacks they wore and slowly peeked over the edge. The stairs leading down were made of wood. The air was very dusty and dry, but cool.

Ziggy went first, carrying a small flashlight. He put his foot on the first step. It creaked, but held his weight. Then he tried another step. And another. And another. Soon they could hardly see him.

“Come on down,” cried Ziggy. “I think it's a hallway or a tunnel or something. I need more light. It's perfectly safe, mon—I think!”

Rashawn went down next, followed by Jerome, and finally Rico, who really didn't want to, but didn't want his friends to tease him for being scared. At the bottom of the steps, with flashlights shining weakly, Rico and Jerome looked around.

They were in a small room. Boxes were stacked along the walls. Jerome looked closely at one of the boxes. “Look at the dates on these!” he said in amazement. The boxes read,
SCHOOL RECORDS 1900–1909
.

“This is no Underground Railroad tunnel,” said Rashawn with disappointment. “It's just an old storage room for ancient school records. I bet no one in the school even knows that this room exists.”

Rico still looked nervous. “Let's get out of here before we get in trouble!”

“You're right, mon,” agreed Ziggy. “Hey, look at this—an old rope. I bet it was used by some old cowboys in a rodeo.”

“Were there cowboys in Ohio?” asked Rico, who was starting to relax now that they were getting ready to leave.

“There were cows, weren't there? And boys? So I guess there could have been cowboys, mon! Watch me do a rope trick!”

Rashawn glanced over at Ziggy. Just as he started to yell, “ZIGGY, DON'T!” Ziggy pulled the rope. The trapdoor slammed down with a loud and deafening
thud
. Except for the thin beams of their small flashlights, sudden darkness surrounded them.

RICO SHRIEKED, “I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE!
Now!” Ziggy gasped and dropped his flashlight.

Jerome was breathing hard, but he said, “Relax, dudes. We have flashlights. We just have to go back up the stairs and push the door open.” He swept his light around the room and across the floor.

Ziggy exclaimed, “Here's my flashlight, mon! But it won't come on. I think it broke when I dropped it!”

Rashawn shook his flashlight, but he could not get that one to click on either. “I'll check my backpack. I packed extra flashlights in there,” he said, trying to see in the dim light. Rico, even
though his hands were sweaty with fear, used his light to find the spares and gave them to Rashawn and Ziggy.

“Now what?” Rico asked. “I'm scared.”

“Let's get that door open and get out of here, mon! I'm with you.” Even Ziggy had lost some of his usual good humor.

Jerome climbed the stairs and pushed. Nothing happened. “I need some help here,” he called. Rico, then Rashawn, and finally Ziggy, all crowded on the narrow wooden steps, pushing with all their might. The door would not budge.

“Why won't it open?” asked Rico. He was starting to be really afraid. He didn't like closed-in places and he didn't want the other boys to know how scared he was.

“Do you think anyone could hear us if we yell?” asked Jerome.

“Probably not. We're behind the storage area of the stage. There's no reason for anyone to come back here. I bet everybody is already headed home,” Rico replied nervously.

“But we should try to get someone's attention in case anyone's still around!” said Rashawn. “Maybe Mr. Lyon will come back here to check the lights or something.”

They pounded on the door and screamed. Nothing happened. Rico couldn't help it. He started to cry. “It's okay, mon,” Ziggy said gently. “We'll get out of here. Don't worry.” But even he sounded worried.

Rashawn finally said, “Maybe there's another way out of here. Let's go down that hall.” They took their flashlights and book bags and slowly walked into the darkness. The walls were thick with dust and spiderwebs.

Rico, still sniffling, followed closely behind Rashawn.

Jerome complained, “These webs are getting all in my hair. I think I'm gonna scream! If you see a spider, just don't tell me, okay?”

Ziggy, trying very hard to find his lost sense of adventure, was too scared to crack a joke. At the end
of the short hallway was a door. “Let's try it, mon. What have we got to lose?”

The door was unlocked. It opened into a small room, empty except for a broken chair. Near the floor on the far wall, a hole had been dug. It was about three feet high. “I think we should see where it leads,” suggested Rashawn.

Rashawn crawled through first. The hole led to a tunnel made of hard-packed earth. “Should we try it? It looks really long. I can't see the end of it.”

“Suppose there's monsters or rats or dead things?” asked Rico fearfully. “Or ghosts?”

“We'll just tell the monsters and ghosts to gobble up the rats and dead things, okay, mon?” Ziggy said, trying to cheer Rico.

“So how will that get rid of the monsters and ghosts?”

“I don't know, mon, but at least they won't be hungry!”

Rico smiled a little and said, “Let's go for it.”

In single file, on their hands and knees, the
Black Dinosaurs crawled through the dirt tunnel, their flashlights the only gleam in the darkness. They were frightened, dirty, and starting to get hungry. They moved slowly, bumping each other and feeling the sides of the tunnel against their bodies.

“Isn't this ever gonna end?” moaned Rico. “I know we've been in here an hour or more!”

Finally Rashawn, who was in the lead, exclaimed, “We're coming to the end of the tunnel!”

“At last!” cheered Rico.

One by one they crawled into a large, earthen room. “Where are we?” asked Jerome.

“You know what, mon?” said Ziggy. “I think we really have found one of those secret hiding places from the Underground Railroad!”

The walls of the room were made of hard-packed dirt, as the tunnel had been. It was tall enough for the boys to stand up in, and big enough for the four of them to move around comfortably. It was very quiet and smelled of old wood and rich earth.

“I think you're right, Ziggy. Look at this!” cried
Rashawn. He had found a small bundle of what at first looked like rags.

“What is it?” asked Rico, shining his flashlight in that direction.

Rashawn looked closely at the bundle. “It's not rags—it's a shirt of some kind. And look—I think this is a cooking pot!”

“This might have been a weapon,” Ziggy said dramatically, holding up a rounded wooden stick.

“It looks like a slingshot. It was probably used to kill more rabbits than enemies,” added Jerome.

“But an escaped slave would have had lots of very bad enemies, right, mon?” Ziggy insisted.

“Sure, Ziggy,” agreed Jerome.

“Do you think this stuff belonged to a real escaped slave?” asked Rico.

“I think so,” replied Jerome as he touched the bundle gently. “Look! What's this?” Tied in a smaller bundle were seven smooth stones.

“Awesome, mon,” whispered Ziggy. “I bet these stones belonged to a kid like us. I wonder if his grandmother had told him stories about seven special stones, like mine did, or was this just all he had to play with.”

“Either way, I hope they brought him good luck,” Rico said thoughtfully.

“This is so cool!” said Ziggy, his fears momentarily forgotten. “We've found a real live tunnel of the Underground Railroad!”

“Do you think this stuff could have belonged to Mr. Greene's grandfather?” asked Rashawn.

“It's possible,” Rico replied. “I don't feel so scared knowing that this stuff belonged to someone who's like a friend to us.”

“Won't this be cool to tell Mr. Greene when we get out of here, mon?” suggested Ziggy.

“You mean
if
we get out of here,” Rico said, his voice quavering.

“Think positive, mon!” Ziggy was still trying to remain cheerful. He then took his own seven stones from his book bag and placed them gently and carefully around the bundle. “These are for you, mon,” he said quietly, “whoever you are.”

“Just think,” added Jerome, “escaped slaves slept
here and hid here and worried if someone would find them.”

Ziggy exclaimed suddenly, “Turn off all your flashlights!”

“Why? Are you crazy?”

“Just for a minute, mon! I want to see something.”

“What do you think you're going to see in the dark?”

“Just do it. One—two—three—OFF!”

The darkness was sudden and total. It seemed to grab the boys and squeeze the breath from them. Rico covered his mouth to stifle a scream.

“This is what it was like!” whispered Ziggy. “When the escaped slaves were hiding here, this is the darkness that covered them, mon!”

“Wow,” whispered Rico. “They were braver than I'll ever be! Let's turn the lights back on!”

The beams of the four flashlights seemed like bright sunshine after that breath-grabbing darkness. Each boy breathed a little easier.

“Where's that map, Ziggy?” asked Rashawn.

Ziggy dug down in his book bag and pulled out
the old map. With the four flashlights shining on it, the map looked mysterious and seemed to glow in the darkness.

“I'm not sure where we are,” said Jerome, pointing to a small square on the map, “but this looks like it might be the tunnel we just crawled through.”