Professor Gargoyle

by Charles Gilman

  And there would almost definitely be more.

  THIRTEEN

  The next morning, Robert was brushing his teeth when he heard a knock at the front door. He went downstairs and found Glenn standing on his porch.

  “What’s up?”

  “Your house is on my way to school,” Glenn shrugged. “I thought we could walk together.”

  “All right.” Robert whistled for Pip and Squeak, zipped the rats inside his backpack, and pulled the front door closed. “Let’s go.”

  It was a cool gray morning. It had thunderstormed the night before, and the potholes in the street were filled with rainwater.

  “This is a nice block,” Glenn observed.

  “You think?” Robert had never heard anyone describe his street as nice. Most of his neighbors didn’t even have grass.

  “It’s quiet,” Glenn said.

  Every few steps, the boys would pass an earthworm writhing on the sidewalk, washed up by the rainstorms, and every time, Glenn would reach down and fling the worm onto a muddy lawn. It seemed like weird behavior, but Robert didn’t say anything. Lately, he was learning all kinds of weird things about Glenn Torkells.

  “I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday,” Glenn said. “I figure the school must be haunted.”

  “By what? Giant squids?”

  “Once I saw this movie about a haunted house,” he explained. “It looked totally normal on the outside, but inside all this weird stuff kept happening. Stuffed animals floating around. The daughter got sucked into a television set. Finally they figured out the house was built on an old Native American burial ground. The spirits of all the dead bodies were trapped under the house, so they were rising up to haunt them.”

  “You think Lovecraft Middle School was built on an old graveyard?”

  “It’s possible, isn’t it?”

  Robert shrugged. “When you’ve got giant squids coming out of lockers, anything’s possible.”

  They agreed to meet at lunch to research the theory, but Robert couldn’t wait three hours to get started. His first class of the day was gym. He told his teacher he wasn’t feeling well and asked permission to study in the school library. Once there, Robert asked Ms. Lavinia to point him to the old newspapers. It took him just a few minutes to find the September 7 issue of The Dunwich Chronicle, the local daily newspaper. There was a front-page article about the grand opening of Lovecraft Middle School. Robert scanned the text until he reached the important part:

  The new middle school is situated on five acres near the intersection of Grove Avenue and Clive Hills Road. Longtime Dunwich residents will recognize this land as the former site of the 120-year-old Clemson Family Berry Farm. Angus Clemson deeded the land to the town of Dunwich upon his retirement five years ago.

  It was enough to rule out Glenn’s theory, Robert decided, and he nearly stopped reading. But then another paragraph near the bottom of the page caught his attention.

  Lovecraft Middle School is one of the most environmentally friendly schools in the United States and generates 90 percent of its own power from rooftop solar panels. The school was constructed almost entirely from recycled materials; many of the doors, windows, floor tiles, and masonry were reclaimed from the old Tillinghast Mansion before it was demolished earlier this year.

  The name sounded familiar. Hadn’t his mother mentioned the Tillinghast Mansion just the other night? There was a pay phone near the entrance to the library. Robert swiped his student ID card and then dialed the number of the hospital where his mother worked. When she finally reached the phone, she sounded out of breath.

  “Robert, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At school.”

  “Why are you calling me?”

  “I had a question.”

  She took a deep breath. “My goodness, Robert, I thought you’d been kidnapped like those girls! Do you know how much you’ve scared me?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Everything’s fine. But do you remember that story you told me the other night? About Crawford Tillinghast? Why did your friends think the house was haunted?”

  There was a long pause. “I don’t understand. You’re calling me at work to ask about Crawford Tillinghast?”

  “It’s for a school project,” Robert said.

  “Can this wait until later?”

  “It’s important. I just want to know why you thought the house was haunted.”

  “Gosh, honey, I don’t remember all the details. He was some kind of physicist, I think. He had a laboratory in his basement. There was a whole team of scientists helping him. And if you believe the rumors, he was summoning evil spirits. Inviting these ancient demons and monsters into his home. A lot of hocus-pocus mumbo jumbo, you know what I mean?”

  “You said something about a house fire. When did that happen?”

  “Oh, a long time ago. I was in middle school myself. For thirty years after the fire, everyone in Dunwich claimed the house was haunted. I have friends who swore they’d seen figures moving through the windows. Or heard strange chanting coming from inside. The cops used to drive out there every weekend to investigate something or other. I’m sure they were thrilled when the house was finally demolished.”

  Yeah, Robert thought, except the house wasn’t completely demolished. Many of its raw materials were recycled into Lovecraft Middle School.

  What if the evil forces were somehow recycled with them? Was that possible? What if all the hocus-pocus mumbo jumbo had carried over to the new building?

  “Does that help with your project, Robert? Because we’re short-handed and I really need to get back to work.”

  “Just one more question,” Robert said. “You said Tillinghast was summoning monsters into his home. Do you know what they looked like?”

  He glanced up and saw Ms. Lavinia watching him from across the library. She was holding a phone to her ear, but she seemed to be listening to Robert’s conversation.

  “Sweetie, let me be clear about something. Demons and monsters are not real. Crawford Tillinghast was a lunatic. And you’re a lunatic for bothering me at work with this stuff, do you understand?”

  Robert was tempted to explain himself but didn’t dare say anything with Ms. Lavinia nearby. He wondered if the librarian was friendly with Professor Goyle, if they ever chatted together in the faculty lounge.

  He thanked his mother for her help and hung up.

  FOURTEEN

  When the lunch bell rang, Robert skipped the cafeteria and went to the school computer center to do more research. Naturally Lovecraft Middle School had a first-rate facility with dozens of brand-new computers, printers, scanners, and tablets. The teacher, Mr. Padapolous, asked Robert to sign in using a digital touch screen.

  Robert chose a computer in a far corner of the room, where no one could see what he was doing, and searched the Web for information on Crawford Tillinghast. He found a lot of weird articles in scientific journals. They had titles like “Ecology of the Hyphalosaurus Species” and “Meditation: A Pinhole in the Time-Space Continuum?” and they were impossible to understand.

  But eventually he found an article in a 1983 issue of The Dunwich Gazette with the headline:

  EXPLOSION ROCKS TILLINGHAST

  MANSION, EIGHTEEN PERISH

  The article explained that the mansion had been built by Crawford Tillinghast’s grandfather in the early twentieth century. The house was enormous and featured fifteen bedrooms, ten bathrooms, three kitchens, a ballroom, a piano room, and an observatory. Tillinghast employed three scientists and they lived in the mansion along with their families; at the bottom of the page was a group photo of everyone who lived in the mansion.

  It was Robert’s first look at Crawford Tillinghast. He was tall and thin and dressed in a white suit. Sitting in a large chair, surrounded by his employees and their spouses and their children, he looked like the grandfather of a large, happy family.

  The article didn’t des
cribe the nature of their scientific experiments. It simply said that a machine in the basement laboratory had malfunctioned, causing a massive explosion that claimed the lives of all eighteen residents, including Tillinghast himself. Much of the building was spared, but the bodies of the employees were never recovered.

  “There you are,” Glenn said, dropping into the chair beside Robert. “I thought we were meeting in the library.”

  It was a funny thing: Just twenty-four hours ago, the sudden arrival of Glenn Torkells would have terrified Robert. Now, he was frustrated Glenn hadn’t come sooner.

  “I didn’t like the way Ms. Lavinia was looking at me. I’m starting to wonder if she’s part of it.”

  “Part of what?”

  “All of it. Professor Goyle, the Price twins, Pip and Squeak. It’s all connected, Glenn. Something really big is happening here.”

  Robert shared his findings from earlier that morning. He explained his new theory—that the haunts from Tillinghast Mansion had somehow been recycled, along with the doors and bricks and floor tiles, into the new Lovecraft Middle School.

  “That’s impossible,” Glenn said.

  “All of this stuff is impossible,” Robert told him. “A tentacle pulling you inside a locker is impossible. But it happened, Glenn. We saw it.”

  His voice had become louder without his realizing it. Mr. Padapolous got up from his desk and walked over to the boys. Glenn tilted the computer monitor so the teacher couldn’t see what they were doing.

  Mr. Padapolous frowned. “These machines are for school use only,” he said. “If you want to play video games, you can come back at three o’clock for Computer Club.”

  “We understand,” Robert said. “We’re just researching a little local history.”

  The teacher shuffled back to his desk. Robert wondered if Mr. Padapolous was friendly with Professor Goyle, if Mr. Padapolous was friendly with Ms. Lavinia.

  Maybe Mr. Padapolous was part of it, too.

  Glenn tapped the computer screen. “So what did you learn about this guy Tillinghast?”

  Robert studied the photograph, studied Tillinghast’s shock of white hair. “When I was spying on Goyle, he mentioned a Master. A person in charge of a plan. I’m starting to think Tillinghast is that Master. Somehow he survived and he’s controlling all these strange forces.”

  Glenn studied the photograph, too. “The guy definitely looks like a grade-A weirdo. Though, in 1983, I guess a lot of people did. Who are all these other people?”

  “Scientists. His employees. And their families. They all lived in the mansion together.”

  Glenn pointed to a girl on the edge of the portrait. She had short, dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders and a mouthful of metal braces. “This one’s cute,” he said. “The rest look like maniacs.”

  Robert took a closer look and blinked.

  Glenn was pointing to Karina Ortiz.

  FIFTEEN

  “What do you mean, that’s Karina?”

  Robert didn’t know what he meant. But when he presented all the evidence to Glenn, it followed a certain pattern. Robert had never seen Karina in any classes. He had never seen her beyond the property of Lovecraft Middle School. And they had managed to squeeze into that tiny dark closet without bumping into each other.

  Glenn was incredulous. “What are you saying? She’s some kind of ghost?”

  Robert tapped the photo on the screen. “I’m saying I know this girl. I’ve talked to her. And this photo is almost thirty years old. What other explanation is there?”

  Glenn sat back in his chair. “This is just getting stranger and stranger. I’m starting to wish you’d just let those tentacles carry me away.”

  “We need to find her,” Robert said. “We need to get back in that attic.”

  “I thought you already tried,” Glenn said. “You told me you couldn’t find it.”

  “That’s true,” Robert told him. “But I think I know someone who can.” He glanced at the clock. There were just fifteen minutes until lunch ended, and then there was a mandatory school assembly to discuss the disappearance of the Price twins. Apparently a police officer was coming to give a lecture on stranger danger. “We better go now if we’re going to make it.”

  The boys grabbed their backpacks and left the computer lab. Out in the hallway, two teachers were speaking in low whispers. They stopped talking as the boys approached. Their eyes seemed full of mistrust. One of the teachers brought out his cell phone and punched in a number.

  “Don’t panic,” Glenn whispered, clapping Robert on the shoulder, like they were two old pals taking a friendly stroll. “Just keep moving.”

  From out of nowhere, Mr. Loomis shoved his way between them. “Glenn Torkells!” he exclaimed. “What did I tell you about hitting Robert?”

  “Me?” Glenn asked. “What?”

  “Last time, you got a warning. This time, it’s a suspension. Come on, I’m taking you straight to the principal’s office.”

  “Mr. Loomis, it’s okay,” Robert said. “Glenn and I are friends now.”

  Mr. Loomis looked exasperated. “Stop protecting him, Robert. If he doesn’t get punished, he’s never going to leave you alone.”

  “I’m not lying this time, I promise.”

  Mr. Loomis crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, fine. You’re friends? Prove it.”

  Prove it? Robert didn’t know how to prove it. What did Loomis want them to do? Shake hands? Hug?

  Glenn cleared his throat. “Uh, I had dinner at Robert’s house last night? And his mother still cuts his spaghetti into little pieces. Like he’s four years old. But I didn’t make fun of him, because we’re friends.”

  Robert thought this was a weird thing to say. Didn’t everyone serve spaghetti cut into little pieces? Because it was easier to eat that way?

  “Well, here’s something you don’t know about Glenn,” Robert told Mr. Loomis. “On the way to school this morning, he decided to rescue ten thousand worms. He picks them off the sidewalk after rainstorms and moves them to the grass so they don’t bake in the sun. I thought it was a little weird, but since we’re friends now I didn’t say anything.”

  Mr. Loomis looked from one boy to the other, astonished. “You really are friends, aren’t you? How the heck did that happen?”

  “Can we tell you later?” Robert asked. “We need to get to the library before the assembly starts.”

  “Fine,” Mr. Loomis said, stepping aside. “I hope you find some good books. Have fun.”

  The boys hurried on their way.

  When they arrived at the library, Ms. Lavinia was in her usual perch at the circulation desk. She saw the boys enter, picked up her telephone, and whispered a few words before hanging up.

  Robert and Glenn had to walk past her to reach the fiction section.

  “Can I help you find something?” she asked.

  “Just looking,” Robert said.

  He turned down the nearest aisle, following it until they were out of Ms. Lavinia’s line of sight.

  “What now?” Glenn asked.

  Robert knelt down and unzipped his backpack. Pip and Squeak scrambled out onto the floor. “Guys, we need your help. You have to take us to the attic. Can you do that?”

  Pip and Squeak cringed. After escaping the attic via Robert’s backpack, it was clear they didn’t want to return.

  “Please, guys,” Robert said. “I know it’s not safe there, but we’re not safe here, either. We need to go back.”

  Pip and Squeak chattered at each other for a few moments, as if they were actually debating the decision. It seemed like Pip was willing to go, but Squeak needed some persuading. Finally they turned and set off down the aisle.

  “Come on,” Robert told Glenn. “They’re going.”

  It was the same route he’d taken last time, through FICTION then MYSTERY then PARANORMAL. The shelves stretched upward as they advanced deeper and deeper into the maze. Books blurred past them. Pip and Squeak were running, and Gl
enn and Robert ran after them.

  “Are you sure this is the right way?” Glenn asked.

  “Definitely.” The air was thick with the odor of moldy mothballs. “We’re almost there.”

  After another minute or so, they arrived at a dead end. In the corner, barely visible, was the old wooden doorway that led to the attic. Pip and Squeak were standing at the base of it.

  “Thanks, guys,” Robert said, unzipping his backpack so they could climb inside. But Pip and Squeak shook their heads. They may have been willing to lead Robert to the attic, but they weren’t going any further. “Fine,” Robert said. “Wait here. We’ll be back in five minutes.”

  Glenn hesitated. “You want me to wait with them?”

  “Come on,” Robert told him. Once again, he nearly stumbled walking through the doorway. He told Glenn to watch his step but it was too late; he tripped and fell to his knees.

  “What just happened?” Glenn asked.

  Robert thought he knew the answer, but he wasn’t going to say anything. If Glenn knew the truth, there was a good chance he’d turn around and never come back.

  They climbed the rickety stairs leading to the attic. When they reached the top, Robert pulled back the patchwork curtain and there was Karina, sitting at the round wooden table reading a book.

  “What are you doing here?” She was even more surprised to see Glenn. “And why is he here?”

  “We’re looking for you.”

  Robert took a chair beside her. “I know your secret, Karina. It took me a while to figure it out, but I know.” He reached out to touch her wrist, and his fingers passed right through it. “You died in the explosion, right? With your parents?”

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Karina said.

  “We need your help.”

  She shook her head sadly. “You’ve walked right into his trap.”

  “Whose trap?”

  The patchwork curtain moved again, and Professor Goyle stepped out, blocking the exit.