Phantom of the Auditorium (2 page)

Why didn’t Ms. Walker want us to hear the story?
I wondered.

How scary could it be?

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!” we all continued to chant.

Ms. Walker raised both hands for us to be silent.

But that only made us stamp our feet in time to our chanting.

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!”

“Okay!” she shouted finally. “Okay, I’ll tell you the story. But, remember — it’s just a story. I don’t want you to get too scared.”

“You can’t scare
us
!” Zeke cried.

Everyone laughed. But I was staring hard at Ms. Walker. I could see that she really didn’t want us to know this story.

Ms. Walker always said we could talk about anything we wanted to with her. I began to wonder why she didn’t want to talk about the Phantom.

“The story starts seventy-two years ago,” Ms. Walker began, “the year Woods Mill Middle
School was first built. I guess Tina’s great-grandfather was a student here that year.”

“Yes, he was,” Tina called out. “He was in the first class that went to this school. He told me there were only twenty-five kids in the whole school.”

Ms. Walker crossed her skinny arms over the front of her yellow sweater and continued her story. “The students wanted to put on a play. A boy was hunting around in the basement of the old Woods Mill Library. He found a script down there. It was called
The Phantom.

“It was a very scary play about a girl who is kidnapped by a mysterious phantom. The boy showed it to his teacher. The teacher decided it would be fun to perform the play. It would be a grand production with the best scary special effects they could create.”

Zeke and I exchanged excited glances. The play had special effects! We loved special effects!

“Rehearsals for
The Phantom
began,” Ms. Walker continued. “The boy who had discovered the play at the library won the lead role of the Phantom.”

Everybody turned to look at Zeke. He smiled proudly, as if he had something to do with it.

“They practiced the play after school every day,” Ms. Walker continued. “Everyone was having a really good time. Everyone was working
really hard to make it a good play. It was all going smoothly, until — until —”

She hesitated.

“Tell us!” I called out loudly.

“Tell us! Tell us!” a few kids started chanting again.

“I want you all to remember this is just a story,” Ms. Walker said again. “There’s no proof that it ever happened.” We all nodded.

Ms. Walker cleared her throat, then continued. “On the night of the play, the kids were all in costume. Parents and friends filled the auditorium.
This
auditorium. The kids were really excited and nervous.

“Their teacher called them together to give them a pep talk. The play was about to start. But to everyone’s surprise, the boy playing the Phantom was nowhere to be found.”

Ms. Walker began pacing back and forth on the stage as she continued the story. “They called to him. They looked for him backstage. But they couldn’t find the Phantom, the star of the show.

“They spread out. They searched everywhere. But they couldn’t find him. The boy had vanished.

“They searched for an hour,” Ms. Walker continued. “Everyone was so upset, so frightened. Especially the boy’s parents.

“Finally, the teacher stepped out onstage to announce that the play could not go on. But before
she could speak, a horrible scream rang out over the auditorium.”

Ms. Walker stopped pacing. “It was a frightening scream. People said it was like an animal howl.

“The teacher ran toward the sound. She called to the boy. But now there was only silence. A heavy silence. No more screams.

“Once again, the entire school was searched. But the boy was never found.”

Ms. Walker swallowed hard.

We were all silent. No one even breathed!

“He was never seen again,” she repeated. “I guess you could say that the Phantom became a
real
phantom. He just disappeared. And the play was never performed.”

She stopped pacing and stared out at us. Her eyes moved from seat to seat.

“Weird,” someone behind me murmured.

“Do you think it’s true?” I heard a boy whisper.

And then, beside me, Corey Sklar let out a gasp. “Oh, no!” he cried, pointing to the side door. “There he is! There’s the Phantom!”

I turned — along with everyone else — and saw the hideous face of the Phantom, grinning at us from the doorway.

Corey Sklar screamed.

A lot of kids screamed. I think even Tina screamed.

The Phantom’s face was twisted in an ugly grin. His bright red hair stood straight up on his head. One eyeball bulged out from its socket. Black stitches covered a deep scar that ran all the way down the side of his face.

“BOO!” the Phantom yelled, bursting into the aisle. More screams.

I just laughed. I knew it was Zeke. I had seen him wear that dumb mask before. He kept it in his book bag in case he needed it. “Zeke, give us a break!” I called. He pulled the mask off by the hair. His face was red underneath it. Zeke grinned at everyone. He knew he had just pulled off a really good joke. Kids were laughing now.

Someone threw an empty milk container at Zeke. Another kid tried to trip Zeke as he headed back to his seat.

“Very funny, Zeke,” Ms. Walker said, rolling her eyes. “I hope we won’t have any more visits from the Phantom!”

Zeke dropped back into the seat next to me. “Why did you scare everyone like that?” I whispered.

“Felt like it.” Zeke grinned back at me.

“So, will we be the first kids to perform this play?” Corey asked Ms. Walker.

Our teacher nodded. “Yes, we will. After the boy disappeared seventy-two years ago, the school decided to destroy all the scripts and the scenery. But one copy of the script was kept, locked up in the school vault for all these years. And now
we’re
going to perform
The Phantom
for the first time!”

Kids started talking excitedly. It took Ms. Walker a while to quiet us down.

“Now listen,” she said, putting her hands on her pencil-thin waist. “This was just a story. An old school legend. I’ll bet even Tina’s great-grandfather will tell you that it isn’t true. I only told it to put you all in a horror mood.”

“But what about the curse?” I shouted up to her. “Tina said there was a curse!”

“Yes,” Tina called out. “My great-grandfather said the play is cursed. The Phantom won’t let
anyone perform it. Great-grandpa says the Phantom is still here in the school. The Phantom has been haunting the school for over seventy years! But no one has ever seen him.”

“Excellent!” Zeke declared, his eyes lighting up.

Some kids laughed. Some kids looked kind of uncomfortable. Kind of scared.

“I told you, it’s just a story,” Ms. Walker said. “Now, let’s get down to business, okay? Who wants to help me pass the scripts out? I’ve made a copy for each of you. I want you to take them home and begin studying your parts.”

Zeke and I practically fell over each other running up to the stage to help Ms. Walker. She handed us each a stack of scripts. We climbed back down and started to hand them out. When I came to Corey, he pulled his hand back. “Wh-what if the curse is true?” he called up to Ms. Walker.

“Corey, please,” she insisted. “Enough talk about the Phantom and the curse, okay? We have a lot of work to do, and —”

She didn’t finish.

Instead, she screamed.

I turned back to the stage, where Ms. Walker had been standing a second before.

She was gone.

She had vanished into thin air.

The scripts fell from my hands.

I turned and made a dash for the stage. I heard kids shouting and crying out in surprise. “She just disappeared!” I heard Corey utter. “But that’s
impossible!”
a girl shrieked. Zeke and I scrambled onstage together. “Ms. Walker — where are you?” I called. “Ms. Walker?” Silence.

“Ms. Walker? Can you hear me?” Zeke called. Then I heard Ms. Walker’s faint cry for help. “I’m down here!” she called. “Down where?” Zeke cried. “Down here!”

Down below the stage? That’s where her voice seemed to be coming from. “Help me up!” Ms. Walker called again.

What’s going on here?
I wondered.
How come we can hear her, but we can’t see her?

I was the first to spot the big square hole in the stage. Zeke and the other kids gathered around it. I stepped to the edge of the opening and peered down.

Ms. Walker stared up at me. She was standing on a small square platform, five or six feet below the stage. “You’ll have to raise the platform,” she said.

“How do we bring it up?” Zeke asked.

“Press that peg. Over there on the stage,” Ms. Walker instructed. She pointed to a small wooden peg to the right of the trapdoor.

“Got it!” Zeke cried. He pushed down the peg. We heard a clanking sound. Then a grinding sound. Then a groaning sound.

Slowly, the platform came rising up. Ms. Walker stepped off the platform. She grinned at us and brushed off the back of her blue slacks. “I forgot about the trapdoor,” she said. “I could have broken a leg or something. But I think I’m okay.”

We all gathered around. Zeke dropped down on his hands and knees, staring at the trapdoor.

“I forgot to mention the best part about this play,” Ms. Walker told us. “This trapdoor was built for the first production of
The Phantom.
It was totally forgotten. It’s never been used in a school play — until now!”

My mouth dropped open. A trapdoor! How awesome!

Ms. Walker reached down and tugged Zeke back from the opening. “Careful. You’ll fall,” she said. “I lowered the platform earlier. I forgot it was still down.”

Zeke climbed to his feet. I could see he was really interested in the trapdoor.

“When
The Phantom
was first supposed to be performed,” Ms. Walker told us, “the school had this trapdoor built so that the Phantom could disappear or rise up from below. Back then, it was a very impressive special effect.”

I turned my eyes to Zeke. He seemed about to explode with excitement. “Am I the only one who gets to use it in the play?” he asked eagerly. “Can I try it now? Please?”

“Not yet, Zeke,” Ms. Walker replied firmly. “I still need to have it checked out for safety reasons. Until it has been checked, I don’t want anybody fooling with the trapdoor.”

Zeke was already back on his hands and knees, inspecting the trapdoor.

Ms. Walker cleared her throat loudly. “Is that understood? Zeke?” she asked.

Zeke glanced up. He sighed. “Yes, Ms. Walker,” he muttered.

“Good,” Ms. Walker said. “Now let’s get back to our seats. I’d like to read through the play once before we leave today. Just to give you an idea of the story and the characters.”

We returned to our seats. Zeke’s expression caught my eye. I’d seen that look on his face before. His forehead was wrinkled, and his left eyebrow was up. I could tell he was deep in thought.

It took more than an hour to read through the play.
The Phantom
was really scary.

It was about a man named Carlo who owns a very old theater where plays and concerts are performed. Carlo thinks his theater is haunted.

It turns out that there really is a phantom living in the basement. His face is scarred. He looks like a monster. So he wears a mask. But Carlo’s daughter, Esmerelda, falls in love with the Phantom. She plans to run away with him. But her handsome boyfriend, Eric, finds out.

Eric is in love with Esmerelda. He tracks down the Phantom in his secret home in a dark passage far beneath the theater. They fight. And Eric kills the Phantom.

This breaks Esmerelda’s heart. She runs away, never to be seen again. And the Phantom survives as a ghost. He will haunt the theater forever.

Pretty dramatic, huh?

I think we all enjoyed reading through the play. We could see that it was going to be a lot of fun to perform.

When I read my lines as Esmerelda, I tried to picture what it would be like to be in costume, saying the lines onstage. Once, I glanced back
and saw Tina mouthing my lines silently to herself.

She stopped when she caught me watching her. She frowned at me the way she always does.

Tina is totally jealous,
I told myself.
She really wants to be Esmerelda.

For a moment, I felt bad for Tina. I didn’t like Tina very much. But I didn’t want her to
hate
me because I had the part she wanted to play.

But I didn’t have much time to think about Tina. I had a lot of lines to read. Esmerelda was onstage a lot in this play. It was a really big part.

When we finally finished reading the play, we all clapped and cheered.

“Okay. Go home, everyone,” Ms. Walker instructed, waving us to the door. “Start learning your parts. We’ll meet again tomorrow.”

As I began to follow the other kids to the door, I felt a hand pull me back. I turned to find Zeke pulling me behind a wide concrete beam.

“Zeke — what are you doing?” I demanded.

He raised a finger to his lips.
“Shhhh.”
His eyes were really excited. “Let them all go,” he whispered.

I peeked out from behind the pillar. Ms. Walker lowered the lights. Then she collected her papers and made her way out through the auditorium door.

“Why are we hiding here?” I whispered impatiently.

Zeke grinned at me. “Let’s try out the trapdoor,” he whispered back. “Huh?”

“Let’s try it out. Quick. While there’s no one in here.”

I glanced quickly around the auditorium. Dark. And empty.

“Come on. Don’t be a wimp,” Zeke urged, pulling me toward the stage. “Let’s try it out, okay? What could happen?”

I turned uncertainly to the stage. “Okay,” I said.

Zeke was right. What could happen?

Zeke and I climbed onto the stage. It was darker than before. And it felt colder.

Our sneakers thudded over the floorboards. Every sound seemed to echo over the whole auditorium.

“This trapdoor is so cool!” Zeke exclaimed. “Too bad you don’t get to use it in the play.”