The Green Beans, Volume 5: The Phantom of the Auditorium
Page 16
The sisters were so startled by the Phantom’s reaction to their presence, they were momentarily stunned into silence. It wasn’t so much the odd manner in which the Phantom had greeted them and inquired as to the status of any possible pizza. The most shocking thing was the actual voice of the Phantom.
It was not the voice Sara and Maria had been anticipating. It was not the deep, booming, amplified voice they had heard before, echoing about the auditorium, reverberating from surface to surface and sending tremors through the captive students.
It was a woman’s voice. The Phantom, it seemed, was not a he, but a she.
Taken aback by this development, the sisters struggled to gather their wits about them for a few seconds. The three people in the tight room all stood in a state of equal surprise, staring at one another as the furnace hummed, hissing and rattling and casting great waves of heat.
“Uh… and who might you be?” Sara finally asked.
“Me? Why, I’m the Phantom of the - oh, hang on a second,” the masked woman said. She reached toward her belt, which was weighted with several pouches and compartments of various sizes. The Phantom depressed a button on some kind of small electronic device that was near her hip, and when next she spoke, her voice was drastically altered, becoming deep and amplified. “I am the Phantom of the Auditorium!”
“You? You’re the Phantom of the Auditorium?” Maria asked in astonishment. “But you’re-”
“Behold!” the Phantom shouted, interrupting Maria with a waving motion of her billowy, ruffled sleeves and a twirling of her black cape.
She reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew what looked to be a small firecracker. The Phantom threw it on the floor at her feet, and there was a sharp crack of noise.
A great deal of colored smoke rose from the point of impact, with wispy streams of red and blue and green, swirling about like a miniature whirlwind. The colorful vapors engulfed the Phantom, who was laughing in a rather diabolical manner the entire time.
Maria and Sara could only watch in slack-jawed astonishment, as they were still trying to comprehend what sort of shenanigans were underfoot in the furnace room. They had initially been expecting Jasper or Ebenezer, but now they didn’t know who they were up against or what to think.
They feared the Phantom might pull a disappearing act while enveloped in the fancy smoke, but within a few moments, the vapors began dissipating. As the smoke drifted away, the Phantom’s maniacal laughter tapered off, turning into gasps and coughs.
“Blasted smoke!” the Phantom sputtered, bending over at the waist and clutching her knees as she struggled to regain her breath. “Note to self: Only do that trick when adequate ventilation is available.”
“Can you turn that thing off?” Sara asked, pointing at the electronic device at the Phantom’s belt. “Your voice is a bit overpowering in here.”
“Well, I suppose you’re right,” the Phantom agreed as she deactivated the interesting doodad with a press of her thumb. After doing so, her voice returned to a normal, unaltered level. “I guess I was only giving myself a headache in these tight quarters.”
“So, who are you? I mean, who are you really?” Sara asked.
“Why, I’ve already made that abundantly clear! Isn’t the Phantom a good enough name?” the masked woman asked.
“Uh… no, not really,” Sara said with a shake of her head. “I mean, you’ve been creeping around the rafters of our school, slinking behind the walls like a spying specter. I think you should be a little bit accountable for your actions, don’t you? And you kidnapped our Dad, so we want some answers!”
“Speaking of which, where is he?” Maria demanded, her voice rising in alarm. “You better not have hurt him!”
The Phantom held her hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Now, hang on a second! That wasn’t me, I didn’t kidnap anybody!”
“Do you actually expect us to believe that? You won’t even show us your face!” Sara exclaimed. “And if it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
“Okay, okay, just calm down, will you? Things have been a bit crazy around here lately, you know? But I would never kidnap somebody! That’s downright despicable,” the Phantom said.
“Well, what happened to our father, then? His name’s Chief Fresco – which I’m sure you already know – and he was en route to the auditorium with all that food you demanded,” Maria said.
“He was, was he?” the Phantom asked, her voice piquing with interest.
“But apparently, he never made it, because the cart’s been overturned and there’re signs of a struggle just outside in the hallway,” Sara explained, pointing toward the door from which they had entered Jasper’s supply room.
The Phantom’s voice rose to a panicked level. “Is the food okay?”
“Is the food okay? We’re talking about the well being of our father! How about him? Is he okay?” Sara demanded.
“Oh, right. Priorities, priorities,” the Phantom said, waving her gloved hands apologetically. “I’m just so darned hungry… you wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I had a proper meal. But anyway, back on point – you’re quite sure your father’s been snatched, eh? Oh, dear. This is very bad. Things are escalating. Things are really getting out of hand quite quickly.”
“Meaning what, exactly?” Maria asked, her eyebrows arching in concern.
“It must have been them,” the Phantom said, her voice filled with dread as she pointed toward the ceiling. “They must have taken your father.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Face of the Phantom