Phantom of the Auditorium (8 page)

After lunch, Robert and Corey were rehearsing a scene together. Ms. Walker still hadn’t returned from lunch.

I wandered over to Brian. He had a paintbrush in his hand, dripping with black paint. He was leaning over the new backdrop, putting some final touches on the gray bricks.

“Looks good,” I told him. I had a sudden urge to slap him on the back and make him smear black
paint all over. But I decided that might not go over too well.

I don’t know
where
these sudden urges come from.

“How’s it going?” Brian asked without looking up. He was filling in some spots he had missed.

“Okay, I guess,” I replied. Across the stage, I saw Tina working with a large glue pot. She was brushing a thick layer of glue onto a cardboard chandelier.

“Robert is going to be a good Phantom,” Brian said, scratching his chin with the tip of the paintbrush handle.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I kind of miss Zeke.”

Brian nodded. Then he turned to look up at me. “You know what? There hasn’t been one practical joke since Zeke left. No scenery ruined. No mysterious phantoms leaping out at us. No threatening words scrawled on the walls. Nothing. Nothing bad since Ms. Walker kicked Zeke out.”

I hadn’t thought about it until that second. But Brian was right. Ever since Zeke had been removed from the play, the Phantom had totally disappeared.

Everything had been going so smoothly. I hadn’t even stopped to realize it.

Did this mean that Zeke actually was the Phantom? That Zeke had been doing all those horrible things after all?

“Did Zeke’s parents have a cow when Ms. Walker called them in to school?” Brian asked. “Did he get punished?”

“For sure,” I replied, still thinking about the Phantom. “His parents grounded him for life. And no horror movies. Zeke can’t
live
without horror movies!”

Brian snickered. “Maybe Zeke has seen
too many
horror movies,” he said.

“Okay, people!” a voice called loudly. I turned to see that Ms. Walker had returned from lunch. “Let’s take it from the opening of Act Two,” she called. “We’ll do the whole act.”

I said good-bye to Brian and hurried to the front of the stage. Esmerelda was in just about every scene of Act Two. This time, I was determined to remember every word.

As I stepped beside Robert, I saw Ms. Walker pick up her script from the table where she always left it. She grasped it in both hands and started to open it to Act Two.

I watched her expression change as her hands worked at the script. She let out a short, angry cry. Then she tugged some more at the thick script.

“Hey —” she shouted angrily. “Now who’s the joker?”

“Ms. Walker, what’s wrong?” Robert called.

She raised the script and shook it furiously. “The pages of my script — they’ve all been glued together!” she fumed.

Startled gasps rose up around the stage. “That’s
it!”
Ms. Walker cried. She heaved the script at the wall. “That was the last joke! The play is canceled! Everybody go home! It’s canceled.”

“Did Ms. Walker change her mind?” Zeke asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. She calmed down after a few seconds and said the play could go on. But she was in a really bad mood for the rest of the day.”

“At least this time she couldn’t blame me,” Zeke said quietly. He tossed a pink rubber ball across the living room, and Buster, his black cocker spaniel, went scrambling after it.

Brian and I had dropped by Zeke’s house to tell him how things were going. Zeke was grounded — probably forever — and couldn’t leave the house. His parents were at the movies. They’d be home in a few hours.

Buster dropped the ball and started barking at Brian.

Zeke laughed. “He doesn’t like you, Brian.” He picked up the ball and bounced it over the carpet again.

But Buster ignored the ball and kept barking at Brian.

Brian blushed. He reached out to pet the dog’s head. “What’s your problem, fella? I’m not a bad guy.”

Buster scampered away from Brian and crossed the room to search for the ball, which had rolled into the hallway.

“Well, I guess this proves there’s some other joker in the class,” Zeke said, his smile fading. He settled back on the couch. “Guess this proves that it wasn’t me doing all the bad things.”

I started to make a joke, but I caught the serious expression on Zeke’s face. So I didn’t say anything.

“There’s a phantom, and it isn’t me,” Zeke said. “And now everyone thinks I’m a liar. Ms. Walker thinks I tried to ruin the play. Even my parents think I’ve turned into a bad guy.”

“You were a much better Phantom than Robert,” I said, trying to cheer him up. “There’s less than a week to go, and Robert still keeps messing up his lines. He says he’s sorry he tried out for the play. He doesn’t even want to be in it now.”

Zeke jumped to his feet. “If we could prove that I’m not the Phantom, I’ll bet Ms. Walker would give the part back to me.”

“Uh-oh,” I said. I could see Zeke’s mind working. I knew what he was going to say next.

“Uh-oh,” Brian echoed. He also knew what Zeke was going to say.

“Let’s go to school,” Zeke said, his eyes wide with excitement. “Let’s find the Phantom this time. I really want to get my part back.”

I shook my head. “No way, Zeke —” I started.

“I really want to show everyone that I didn’t try to ruin the play,” Zeke insisted.

Brian tossed the ball to the dog. The dog watched it bounce away. “But you’re grounded, remember?” Brian said to Zeke.

Zeke shrugged. “If we find the Phantom and prove that I’m innocent, my parents will be glad I went. And I won’t be grounded anymore. Come on, guys. One more try. Please?”

I stared back at Zeke, thinking hard. I didn’t think it was a good idea. The last time we sneaked into the auditorium, we ended up in major trouble.

I could see by Brian’s expression that he didn’t want to go, either.

But how could we say no to Zeke? He was practically begging us!

It was a warm night, but I felt chilled just the same. As we walked to school, I kept seeing shadows moving close as if reaching for us. But when I turned to see them, they vanished.

Brooke, you have too much imagination,
I scolded myself.

I wished my heart would stop thudding like a bass drum.

I wished I were home, watching TV with Jeremy. I had a bad feeling about our little adventure. A very bad feeling.

We didn’t waste any time trying the doors. We climbed into school through the same home ec room window. Then, once again we made our way silently down the dark halls to the auditorium.

One row of lights had been left on at the back of the seats. The stage lay dark and bare, except for the gray brick backdrop against the back wall.

Zeke led the way down the center aisle. He had given us each a flashlight. We clicked them on as we made our way to the stage. The beams of light played over the empty rows of seats. I raised mine to the stage and swept it from side to side.

No one up there. No sign of anything unusual.

“Zeke, this is a waste of time,” I said, whispering even though no one could hear us.

He raised a finger to his lips. “We’re going down below the stage,” Zeke said quietly, his eyes straight ahead. “And we’re going to find him, Brooke. This time, we’re going to find him.”

I had never seen Zeke so serious, so determined. A chill of fear went slowly down my back. But I decided not to argue with him.

“Uh … maybe I should stay up on the stage while you two go down,” Brian suggested. “I could stand guard.”

“Stand guard against what?” Zeke demanded, raising his flashlight to Brian’s face.

I could see Brian’s frightened expression. “Against … anyone who might come,” he replied weakly.

“All three of us have to go down,” Zeke insisted. “If we do find the Phantom, I want two witnesses — you and Brooke.”

“But the Phantom is a
ghost
— right?” Brian demanded. “How do we find a ghost?”

Zeke glared at him. “We’ll find him.”

Brian shrugged. We could both see that there was no point in arguing with Zeke tonight.

The floorboards on the stage creaked as we made our way to the trapdoor. Our flashlights moved over the outline of the square platform in the floor.

Brian and I huddled close together in the center of the square. Zeke stomped hard on the little wooden peg, then jumped beside us.

We heard the familiar clanking sound. Then the gentle hum as the platform started to lower. The stage appeared to rise up all around us. In a few seconds, we were surrounded by four black walls.

The light from our flashlights washed over the walls as we sank lower and lower under the stage. My heart felt as if it were sinking, too — down to my knees!

The three of us stood pressed together in the center of the platform. The clanking and grinding sounds grew louder as we went down. Finally, we hit the bottom with a hard
thud.

For a few seconds, none of us moved.

Zeke was the first to step off the platform. He raised his flashlight and swept it slowly around. We were in the middle of a large, empty chamber. It tunneled out in two directions.

“Here, Phantom! Here, boy!” Zeke called softly, as if calling his dog. “Here, Phantom. Where
are
you, Phantom?” he called in a singsong voice.

I stepped off the platform and gave him a shove. “Stop it,” I insisted. “I thought you were serious about this. Why are you making a joke of it?”

“Just trying to keep you from getting too scared,” Zeke replied. But, of course, I knew the truth. He was trying to keep
himself
from getting too scared.

I turned back to Brian. In the dim light, he looked scared enough for both of us! “There’s no one down here. Can we go back up now?” he pleaded.

“No way,” Zeke told him. “Follow me. Keep your light down on the ground so we can see where we’re going.”

Walking side by side, Brian and I followed Zeke into the chamber. We stepped into a long tunnel, took a few steps, then stopped to listen.

Silence.

My legs were trembling. In fact, my entire body was shaking. But Zeke was acting so brave. There was no way I’d let him know how frightened I was.

“This tunnel probably stretches all the way under the school,” Zeke whispered, moving his light ahead of us. “Maybe even farther. Maybe it goes under the entire block!”

We took another few steps — then stopped when we heard a noise behind us.

A clanking, followed by a loud hum.

“Hey!” Brian cried out shrilly. “The trapdoor!”

All three of us spun around and started running back toward it. Our heavy footsteps echoed loudly through the dark tunnel.

My chest was aching so hard by the time we got back to the trapdoor platform, I could hardly breathe.

“It — it’s going back up!” Zeke cried.

We stood there helplessly, gazing at the platform as it rose over our heads, climbing back up to the stage.

“Push the switch!” Zeke cried to me. “Bring it back down!”

I fumbled on the wall till I found the switch. I tried to move it. But it was stuck.

No. It had been locked.

It wouldn’t budge.

The trapdoor platform stopped high above us. A heavy silence fell over the three of us as we stared up in the darkness.

“Zeke, now we’re trapped down here,” I uttered. “There’s no way back up. We’re totally trapped.”

We waited to see if someone was coming down. But the trapdoor remained closed up there.

Brian let out a frightened sigh. “Somebody did it,” he whispered, staring up to the platform. “Somebody pushed the switch and sent it back up.”

“The Phantom!” I cried. I turned to Zeke. “Now what?”

Zeke shrugged. “Now we have no choice. If we want to get
out
of here, we
have
to find the Phantom!”

Our circles of yellow light trembled over the floor as we turned and headed back into the tunnel. No one said a word as we followed it around one curve, then another.

The floor became soft and muddy. The air grew cooler.

I heard a soft chittering sound in the distance. I hoped it wasn’t a bat.

Brian and I had to hurry to keep up with Zeke. He was taking long strides, his flashlight swinging back and forth in front of him.

Suddenly, I heard a low, musical humming. It took me a while to realize it was coming from Zeke. He was humming a tune to himself.

Come on, Zeke, give me a break!
I thought.
You’ve
got
to be scared! You can’t fool me with a little cheerful humming. You are as scared as I am!

I started to tease him about it. But the tunnel suddenly ended, and we found ourselves at a low doorway. Brian hung back. But Zeke and I stepped up to the door, our flashlights beaming over it.

“Anyone in there?” Zeke called in a strange, tiny voice.

No reply.

I reached out and pushed the door. It creaked open. Zeke and I raised our flashlights and aimed them inside.

A room. All furnished. I saw a folding chair. A beat-up couch with one of the cushions missing. Bookshelves along one wall.

My flashlight fell over a small table. A bowl and a box of cornflakes stood on the table. I swept the light around and saw a small unmade bed against the far wall.

Zeke and Brian followed me into the room. Our beams of light slid slowly over every object, every piece of furniture. An old-fashioned record player
stood on a low table. A stack of old records was piled beside it.

“Do you
believe
this?” Zeke whispered. A grin spread over his face.

“I think we’ve found the Phantom’s home,” I whispered back.

His flashlight tilting in front of him, Brian made his way to the table. He peered down at the cereal bowl. “The Phantom — he was just here,” Brian said. “The cereal isn’t soggy yet.”

“This is amazing!” I cried. “Someone actually lives down here, way below the —”

I stopped because I felt a sneeze coming on. Maybe a whole sneezing fit.

I tried to hold it in. But I couldn’t. I sneezed once. Twice. Five times.

“Stop it, Brooke!” Brian pleaded. “He’ll
hear
you!”