by R. L. Stine
And Ms. Walker was waiting for him, arms crossed, eyes squinting.
Will she toss him out of the play? I wondered. Or will she just yell at him until his ears curl?
The hum grew louder. The stage floor vibrated.
We all heard the platform stop — its usual five feet below the stage.
Poor Zeke, I thought. He’s standing there innocently. He doesn’t know what he’s in for.
Poor Zeke.
I peered down into the opening — and gasped.
12
The platform was empty. No one there.
Zeke — or whoever it was — had sent it back up empty. And had disappeared into the dark tunnels far below the school.
Zeke wouldn’t do that, I told myself. Even Zeke wouldn’t be crazy enough to go down in the darkness by himself. Without a flashlight. Without a clue as to what was down there.
Would he?
Yes, he would. I answered my own question. If he thought he could really terrify us, Zeke would do anything!
Ms. Walker canceled the rehearsal. She told the scenery crew to stay and paint the backdrop. She told the rest of us to go home and study our parts.
“I’m going to have a long talk with Zeke when I find him,” she muttered. Then she turned and made her way quickly out of the auditorium.
I took my time walking home. I thought about Zeke all the way. I was thinking so hard, I walked right past my house!
Down the block, I saw Zeke’s mother’s red Pontiac pull up their driveway. Shielding my eyes against the late afternoon sun, I saw Mrs. Matthews climb out of the car. And then I saw Zeke on the other side.
“Hey! Zeke!” I shouted as I went running across the lawns toward him. “Zeke!”
His mother waved to me and disappeared into the house. Zeke looked surprised to see me. “Is play rehearsal over so early?” he asked.
“Yes. Thanks to you,” I muttered.
“Huh?” He gave me his innocent look again. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t scare me, Zeke,” I told him. “No one thought it was funny. And now you’re in a load of trouble with Ms. Walker.”
He narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his face, pretending not to understand. “What are you talking about, Brooke? How can I be in trouble? I wasn’t even there!”
“You were there long enough,” I told him.
He shook his head. His freckles seemed to grow darker. His blond hair fluttered in the wind. “No, I wasn’t,” he said quietly. “I told Ms. Walker I wouldn’t be there. I told her this morning that I had to miss rehearsal.”
“So you could get into your mask and cape and come flying down from the catwalk?” I asked suspiciously.
“No. I told her I had a dentist appointment.”
I gaped at him in shock. My mouth dropped open.
“What’s your problem, Brooke?” he demanded. “It was only a checkup.”
“You — you really weren’t at school?” I stammered.
He shook his head. “No way.”
“Then who was the Phantom?” I asked in a tiny voice.
A strange smile spread over Zeke’s face.
“It was you!” I cried angrily. “You did your Phantom act, and then you went to your dentist appointment! Didn’t you, Zeke! Didn’t you!”
He only laughed. He wouldn’t answer.
After school the next afternoon, I walked with Brian to the auditorium. He looked cute in a black vest over a plain white T-shirt and faded jeans. “How are you doing with Tina?” I asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Brian replied. “She’s a little bossy. But she’s letting me design the backdrop pretty much on my own.”
I waved to some kids who were heading out the door for home. We turned the corner. I saw Corey and Tina walking into the auditorium.
“Did Zeke work things out with Ms. Walker?” Brian asked. “I saw him talking to her this morning.”
“I guess,” I replied. “She’s letting Zeke stay in the play — for now.”
“Do you think it was Zeke who pulled that stunt yesterday?” Brian asked.
I nodded. “Yes, I do. Zeke likes scaring people. He’s been doing it since we were little. I think Zeke is trying to scare us. He’s trying to make us think there’s a real Phantom in the school.” I smiled at Brian. “But I don’t scare so easy!” I declared.
Soon after rehearsal started, Ms. Walker called Zeke and me onstage. She said she wanted to walk us through one of our scenes together. She wanted to show us where we should stand when we said our lines. She called it “blocking.”
She also asked Tina Powell and Robert Hernandez, Zeke’s understudy, to come up onstage. Ms. Walker said they should know all the blocking, too. Just in case.
Just in case? I thought. Then I remembered Tina’s warning: “So if you get sick or something and you can’t be in the show, I’ll play the part of Esmerelda.”
“Well, Tina, I hate to disappoint you,” I muttered to myself, “but I plan to be perfectly fine. So have fun painting your scenery. It’s the only time you’ll be onstage.”
I know, I know. That’s kind of mean. But Tina deserved it.
Ms. Walker showed Zeke where to stand. I stood off to the side of the stage with Tina, waiting for my cue.
“I guess Ms. Walker and Zeke worked things out,” Tina said. “I heard him this morning telling her he was at the dentist’s, and so he couldn’t be the one to swing down from the ceiling.”
I started to tell Tina to be quiet so I could hear my cue. But I was too late. I already heard Ms. Walker calling my name.
“Brooke Rodgers!” She sounded angry. “What’s going on over there? You’re supposed to be onstage!”
“Thanks a bunch, Tina,” I muttered under my breath. I ran out onto the stage. Glancing back, I could see Tina laughing to herself.
I couldn’t believe it! Tina had made me miss my cue on purpose!
Onstage, I didn’t know where I was supposed to stand. I didn’t even know what page of the script we were on.
What was my next line?
I couldn’t remember.
In a panic, I stared out at the kids in the auditorium seats. They all stared back at me, waiting for me to speak.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“The line is, ‘Is somebody down here?’“ Tina yelled loudly from offstage.
Oh, wow, I thought unhappily. Tina will do anything to show me up! She’s just hoping Ms. Walker will kick me out of the play.
I felt so angry, my head was spinning. I couldn’t think straight. I repeated the line, then took a deep breath to calm down.
Zeke had the next line. He was supposed to appear onstage and scare Esmerelda.
But Zeke wasn’t onstage. He wasn’t anywhere in sight!
I peered out into the auditorium. Ms. Walker stood at the foot of the stage. She had her hands on her waist. She tapped one toe impatiently on the hard floor.
The auditorium grew silent, except for that tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Ms. Walker seemed to be very annoyed.
“Where is Zeke?” she asked wearily. “What is he doing now? Is he going to come flying down from the catwalk in full costume or something?”
I should have guessed what Zeke was up to. But it didn’t dawn on me until I heard the familiar noise. The loud clanking. Followed by the hum.
The trapdoor platform! It was rising!
I sighed. “Here comes Zeke,” I told Ms. Walker.
And a second later, Zeke’s blue-and-green-masked head appeared.
I stepped back and watched him rise from down below. It looked awesome. Really dramatic.
Slowly, he appeared, rising up over the stage floor.
He reached the top and just stood there for a long moment, staring out at the auditorium, as if posing for a picture. He was in full costume: his mask, a black cape down to his ankles, black shirt and pants.
What a ham! I thought. He really loves having everyone stare at him and think he’s hot stuff!
&nb
sp; And then he stepped toward me, taking quick strides. Through the mask, he raised his eyes to me.
I tried to remember what I was supposed to say next.
But before I could utter a sound, he grabbed both of my shoulders. He shook them really hard. Too hard.
Ease up, Zeke, I thought. It’s only rehearsal.
“Go away!” he cried in a furious whisper.
I remembered what I was supposed to say. I opened my mouth to speak …
But then I froze.
I saw someone waving to me from the edge of the stage.
Waving frantically.
It was Zeke!
13
I knew I was in major trouble.
If Zeke was standing way over there, who was shaking my shoulders, grinning at me through the ugly mask?
“Help! Somebody — help me!” I screamed, struggling to free myself.
“No, Brooke!” Ms. Walker called out to me. “The line is, ‘Help! Help me, Father!'” She didn’t get it.
Couldn’t she see that there was a real phantom up here trying to shake me to death?
Suddenly, the Phantom lowered his masked face and whispered harshly in my ear, “Stay away. Stay away from my home sweet home!” I gazed into his eyes. They looked familiar to me. Who was he? I knew I’d seen him before. But before I could remember, he spun away from me, took a diving leap off the stage, and ran up the long aisle, his cape flowing behind him.
I stood watching in horror as he disappeared out through the auditorium doors.
Some kids laughed. I heard Tina mutter to someone, “Was that in the script?”
Zeke came running over to me. “Brookie, are you all right?”
“I — I don’t know,” I replied. I felt really shaken up.
“That was weird!” Zeke exclaimed.
Ms. Walker came striding across the stage, swinging her clipboard in one hand. She had a very confused expression on her face. “Can anyone explain what just happened here?” she asked.
“There’s a real phantom in this school,” Zeke said softly. He narrowed his eyes at me thoughtfully.
We were sitting in the front row of the auditorium. Brian scraped at a smudge of black paint on the back of his hand. I sat between the two boys, studying Zeke.
The lights had been dimmed. Rehearsal had ended a few minutes before. I could hear a few voices out in the hall. The door had just closed behind Ms. Walker.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Zeke demanded.
“I’m still wondering if you aren’t responsible for everything,” I told him bluntly.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure,” he muttered. “How could I be in two places at once today, Brooke? Answer me that. That’s pretty tricky, even for someone as brilliant and clever as me!”
I laughed. “It’s possible,” I replied.
“I can’t get this paint off,” Brian moaned. “Look. I got it on my shirt, too.”
“Is it washable paint?” Zeke asked.
“How should I know?” Brian replied unhappily. “I didn’t read the label on the can. Do you read labels on cans?”
“Zeke only reads cereal boxes,” I joked.
“Will you stop kidding around?” Zeke demanded impatiently. “We’ve got a real phantom in this school. And for some reason, he’s trying to mess up our play.”
I was still studying Zeke’s face, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. “I saw you talking to Andy Seltzer this morning before school,” I told Zeke. “You could have planned this whole phantom thing with him. You gave Andy the costume, right? You told him what to do. You and Andy planned the whole thing. Right?”
Zeke’s mouth dropped open. “Huh? Why would I do that?”
“To scare me,” I replied. “To scare everyone. To make us think there’s a real phantom. And then when you get us really scared, you laugh and say ‘Gotcha!’ And we all feel like total jerks.”
A smile crossed Zeke’s face. “Wish I’d thought of that,” he murmured. “But I’m serious, Brooke. I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t plan anything with Andy. And I didn’t —”
Tina hopped down from the stage. I guessed she’d been working on scenery behind the curtain. “Are you feeling better, Brooke?” she asked coldly.
I turned to her. “Feeling better? I’m okay. What do you mean?”
“You looked so stressed out onstage, I thought maybe you were sick,” Tina replied nastily. “Are you coming down with the flu? I hear there’s a really bad one going around.”
“I’m fine,” I said curtly.
“Is this paint washable?” Brian asked Tina.
Tina shrugged. “Beats me. Try turpentine.” She smiled at Brian. “You’re doing a good job on the backdrop.” Then she turned back to me and her smile faded. “At least someone is doing a good job on this play.”
Before I could reply, she turned and hurried across the aisle and out the auditorium door.
“She’s praying I get the flu,” I told Zeke. “Isn’t that sick?”
He didn’t reply. He was thinking so hard about the Phantom, I don’t think he even heard me.
“Do you think Tina could be doing all these terrible things?” I asked. “Just to frighten me away so that she can be Esmerelda?”
“That’s crazy,” Zeke replied softly.
“Yeah. I guess,” I agreed.
Brian just kept trying to peel the black paint off his hand.
“Let’s go home,” I suggested. “It’s really late. Maybe we can talk about the Phantom later.” I climbed to my feet.
Zeke glared up at me. “You still don’t believe me — do you!” he accused. “You still think this is all some plot just to scare you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I said, climbing over him to get to the aisle. I really didn’t know what to think.
Brian got up and followed me to the door. I turned back to Zeke, who was still in his seat. “Are you coming? Are you going to walk with us?”
Zeke stood up without replying. “Yeah. I guess.”
We were heading down the hall to our lockers when Zeke suddenly stopped. “Oh. I forgot,” he uttered.
“Forgot what?” I asked. It was nearly dinnertime. I was eager to get home. My mom was probably wondering if I’d been run over by a bus or something. Mom always imagines me run over by a bus. I don’t really know why. I never knew anyone who was ever run over by a bus!
“My math book,” Zeke said. “I have to go to the office. I left it in the auditorium the other night. I’ve got to see if anyone turned it in.”
“I’ll see you later,” Brian said, backing down the hall.
“Where do you live?” I called to him.
He pointed in a direction. South, I think. “See you tomorrow!” He turned and jogged around the corner.
I followed Zeke to Mr. Levy’s office. All the lights were on, but the office was empty, except for Dot, the secretary. She was shutting down her computer, getting ready to go home.
“Did anyone turn in my math book?” Zeke asked her, leaning on the counter.
“Math book?” She squinted back at Zeke thoughtfully.
“I left it in the auditorium the other night,” Zeke said. “I thought maybe that guy Emile turned it in.”
Dot’s expression turned to confusion. “Who? Who is Emile?”
“You know,” Zeke replied. “The little old guy with the white hair. The night janitor.”
Dot shook her head. “You’re a little mixed up, Zeke,” she said. “There’s no one named Emile who works at the school. We don’t have a night janitor.”
14
Tina Powell called me at home that night. “Just wanted to see how you’re feeling,” she said. “You looked so pale, Brooke.”
“I’m not getting the flu!” I shouted. I really lost my cool. But I couldn’t help it.
“I heard you sneezing a lot yesterday,” Tina said, pretending to be concerned.
“I always sneeze a lot,” I replied. “Bye, Tina.”
“Who was that other phantom who jumped onstage this afternoon?” Tina asked before I could hang up.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I really —”
“That was kind of scary,” Tina interrupted. “I hope you weren’t too scared or anything, Brooke.”
“See you tomorrow, Tina,” I said coldly.
I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. Tina was really becoming a pain, I decided.
How much does she want to play Esmerelda? I found myself wondering.
Just how much does she want the part? Enough to try to scare me away?
Zeke called later and convinced me that Emile had to be our phantom. “He lied to us, right?” Zeke asked excitedly. “He told us he worked for the school. And he tried to frighten us. It’s got to be him,” Zeke insisted.
“Yeah. Probably,” I replied, twirling the scrunchie on my wrist.
“He’s the right size,” Zeke continued. “And he knew about the trapdoor.” Zeke took a breath. “And why was he there, Brookie? Why was he there in the auditorium at night?”
“Because he’s the Phantom?” I asked.
It made sense.
I agreed to get to school early so that Zeke and I could tell Ms. Walker about Emile.
That night I dreamed about the play. I was onstage in my costume. The spotlights were all on me. I stared out at the seats filled with people.
The auditorium grew silent. Everyone was waiting for Esmerelda to speak.
I opened my mouth — and realized I didn’t remember what I was supposed to say.
I stared out at the faces of the audience.
I had forgotten everything. Every word. Every line.
The words had all flown away, like birds leaving a nest.
My nest was empty. My mind was a total blank.
I stood there in panic. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.
I woke up in a cold sweat. My entire body trembled. My muscles had all knotted up. I had kicked all the covers onto the floor.
What a horrible dream.
I couldn’t wait to get dressed and get to school. I wanted to forget about that awful nightmare as quickly as I could.
I had to walk Jeremy to school. So I didn’t get there as early as I wanted.
