The Midnight Door

by Sam Fisher

  Morton clutched his temples in frustration.

  “I don’t want your candy,” Morton snapped. “Just … just be quiet and let me think.”

  As soon as Morton said this, the bell rang for recess and it was immediately followed by the sound of classroom doors bursting open and the hustle and bustle of kids filling the halls. Morton was thankful that they were in the least-used restroom in the school, but still, he had to face the fact that somebody could come barging in at any moment.

  “Okay, I’ll go get Robbie,” he said. “He’ll have some ideas. Stay still and don’t attract any attention.”

  Morton bounded out of the restroom and down the stairs only to find that Robbie had already left the classroom and was nowhere to be seen. He quickly returned the hall pass and grabbed his things, and after what felt like hours (but was really only a couple of minutes), Morton found Robbie with the rest of the band. He was standing beside Julie Bashford and the blond twins, Rachel and Rachelle, and they were all facing Nolan Shaw. Nolan looked tired and worried, which was unusual for him. He usually had a bright, bouncy look in his eyes.

  Morton, who had been dashing around the school like a confused lemming, tried to compose himself and sauntered over to the group, making every effort to appear casual.

  “Oh, uh, hi, guys. Hi, Nolan,” he said.

  “Oh, hi, uh, Melvin, isn’t it?” Nolan grunted.

  “Morton,” Morton said, surprised that Nolan didn’t remember his name. “Robbie tells me you didn’t make it to rehearsal last night,” he went on. “Hope everything is all right.”

  Nolan shrugged. “It’s my grandmother,” he said. “She hasn’t been very well and she had to go into the hospital last night, so I ended up spending most of the night there with my parents.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Morton said, and then, not wanting to sound rude, he turned to Robbie and said, “Uh, do you have a minute?”

  “We’re kind of in a meeting,” Julie Bashford said in her croaky voice.

  Julie was a thin girl with pale skin and silver hair that she’d dyed with purple streaks. Morton didn’t really know her well, but he had noticed that no matter what the situation, she always seemed supremely confident and vaguely annoyed.

  “Yes, I know,” Morton said. “But this is important. Something, uh, well, something’s up.”

  “So we’re not important?” Julie chimed in, stepping menacingly up to Morton, her drumsticks tucked under one arm. Morton stepped back, feeling intimidated, even though she was no taller than he was.

  “I … I didn’t say that,” he said.

  “No, you just implied it,” she said gruffly, stepping even closer. Morton found himself staring directly at her face and he couldn’t help noticing that even though she behaved like a tough kid, she actually had very soft features, with rosy cheeks, a delicately shaped nose, and the palest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  Morton’s neck tensed up and he felt strangely off balance. He couldn’t figure out if he was afraid of Julie, or just in a general panic. Either way the feeling was unfamiliar to him. “I think the band is important,” he said, trying to stay calm. “But this — thing — is important and it’s urgent. So unless this important meeting is also urgent maybe I could just borrow Robbie for one minute.”

  Nolan glanced sideways at Morton and gave him a penetrating stare, and Morton remembered what Derek had said about his reputation. The last thing he wanted to do was make anybody even more suspicious of him.

  “We’ll only be another five minutes,” Nolan said, and he led Robbie and the blond twins off in the opposite direction.

  “I’ll find you later,” Robbie said, looking over his shoulder with an apologetic shrug.

  For some reason Julie lingered behind a moment, and Morton stood motionless, watching the others go, wondering what to do.

  “Look, it’s none of my business,” Julie said, “but it’s probably a good idea for you to spend some time doing stuff without Robbie.”

  “Huh?” Morton said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Julie rolled her eyes in a way that somehow made Morton feel like a complete idiot.

  “Well, it’s hardly a secret that you’ve been stuck to Robbie like a leech since the day you started this school.”

  “I haven’t been stuck on him — we’re friends!” Morton exclaimed.

  Julie scoffed. “Maybe you were. But lead singers get new friends. Friends who aren’t obsessed with stupid kids’ comics.”

  “What?” Morton felt as if he’d just been slapped. “Did Robbie say something?”

  Julie shook her head and leaned in to whisper in Morton’s ear. “It’s not what they say,” she said, “it’s how they act.” And then she turned and jogged down the hall to catch up with the others.

  Morton stood for a moment longer, not really sure how he was supposed to feel, but then remembered that Derek was still stuck on the ceiling and realized that he really was going to have to figure it out on his own.

  He headed back up the stairs, but before he reached the top landing, a horrible high-pitched shriek reverberated along the hall. Morton bolted the rest of the way and burst into the bathroom.

  At first he didn’t understand what had happened. There, with a slightly guilty look on his face, was Phillip “Frizz” Ferguson, a small boy with a tower of curly hair on his head. He was holding the Antigravity Laser Cannon. The screaming, however, was coming from Derek, who was now lying on the floor, no longer stuck to the ceiling.

  “Sorry,” Frizz said. “I was only trying to help.”

  “What do you mean?” Morton said, still puzzling out the scene before him.

  “Derek said his gun got him stuck on the ceiling, and I found a reverse switch on the handle,” Frizz answered. “And so, well, yeah, I just, you know, thought, no harm in trying, but yeah, I guess it’s a long way down.”

  “He broke my leg!” Derek screamed, writhing on the hard tile floor. “Frizz broke my leg!”

  Morton felt panic rising in his chest and didn’t have a clue what to do. He really wished that Robbie were with him, and he really wished that Frizz Ferguson had not stumbled in on the scene.

  “Maybe I should get the principal,” Frizz suggested.

  “No!” Morton snapped, the mention of Finch bringing him back to his senses. “I’ll deal with this.”

  He then looked back down at Derek and realized that Derek was wriggling and writhing a lot. Too much, he thought, for someone with a broken leg.

  He went over and crouched down by his side. “Which leg is it?” he asked.

  “Both of them!” Derek whimpered. “And my arms!”

  Morton was hardly surprised by the answer and began prodding Derek in various places. Derek stopped whimpering and looked on in silence as Morton prodded. After a moment, Morton pronounced his verdict. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything,” he said. “Except the world record for the loudest scream.”

  “What? Really?” Derek said, suddenly sitting up and touching his own legs gingerly. “But it hurts.”

  “Yeah, believe it or not, you can feel pain without breaking any bones,” Morton said, feeling irritated by Derek’s melodramatic display. “Here, see if you can stand up.”

  Sure enough Derek was able to stand without any real trouble, which seemed to be more of a relief to Frizz than anybody.

  “Sorry,” Frizz said again. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Well, it was a stupid idea!” Derek snapped, wiping the last of his tears from his face. “You should mind your own business!”

  “But you asked me to help,” Frizz said, looking genuinely hurt.

  “Just give me my laser cannon back.” Derek reached out to snatch the gun from Frizz’s hands, but Morton bounded between them before he even realized what he was doing.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

  Derek stopped, surprised, and looked down at Morton as if he’d just stepped in something ver
y unpleasant. “It’s mine,” he said.

  “But it’s dangerous,” Morton said. “What if you’d floated out the window? Who knows what could have happened to you.”

  “Well, obviously I’m not going to make the same mistake twice, am I?” Derek said in his usual mocking tone. “In any case, it’s none of your business. My father paid for that gun and he’d be very upset if somebody stole it from me. He might even call Inspector Sharpe.”

  Morton froze, wondering how Derek knew that he was afraid of Sharpe. Derek smirked and pushed Morton aside, reaching again for the Antigravity Laser Cannon. Frizz glanced questioningly at Morton, then handed the cannon over quietly. But Derek had barely taken it from Frizz when something snapped in Morton and he shot forward and snatched the toy away from Derek. Surprising even himself, he jammed the long barrel of the gun between two sinks and yanked back, snapping it cleanly in two. A pulse of energy burst out from the innards of the shattered toy, and a strobe of iridescent light momentarily blinded them.

  Morton was only mildly surprised by this strange pulse of light, and dropped the pieces to the floor. “There,” he said, looking back at Derek. “Tell Sharpe some bad boys broke your toy, why don’t you?”

  Derek swallowed hard and stared back, his mouth twitching in anger. At last he spoke. “You’re going to regret that,” he said, and he spun on his heels and paced directly out the door.

  Frizz remained standing like a statue, staring at the shattered remnants of the toy. “Uh, do you know what’s going on here?” he said.

  Morton puffed his cheeks and leaned heavily on one of the sinks. The truth was, he had absolutely no idea what was going on, but how would he convince Frizz of that? And more important, how would he stop Frizz from telling the whole school?

  Morton spent the rest of recess pacing around in the school yard waiting tensely for Robbie so he could tell him all about Derek’s misadventures on the ceiling and ask him if he thought Frizz Ferguson was a trustworthy kid. Before leaving the restroom he’d tried to convince Frizz that he must never tell anyone about what had happened because Derek would get into trouble. Frizz had promised, but Morton had no idea if he was being honest or just telling him what he wanted to hear.

  Unfortunately Robbie didn’t show up until nearly the end of recess, and even then he was still with Julie. The two of them appeared on the steps in front of the main entrance and stood talking. Normally Morton would have dashed over to him the instant he appeared, but the sight of Julie held him back. Her comments from earlier were very much at the front of his brain, and he wondered just how true they might be. There was no doubt that he’d been with Robbie practically every minute of every day since he started school, but surely it was a mutual friendship. Even as Morton was thinking this, he realized that he hadn’t exactly made Robbie’s life pleasant. Since meeting Morton, Robbie had been accused of stealing half the town’s cat population, attacked by monsters, and almost killed by an evil history teacher. Perhaps joining a band and making a new group of friends was just what Robbie needed right now.

  As Morton was mulling this over, the bell rang and Julie and Robbie headed directly back into the building. Morton sighed and shuffled off to class alone. As he sauntered along the hallway, he was so deep in thought that he walked straight into a tall, older student.

  “Sorry,” Morton said, stepping aside to go around the heavyset boy whose stomach had just collided with his face, but as he did so, the boy also stepped aside, this time blocking his way intentionally. It was only then that Morton looked up to see the large, round, puggish features of none other than Brad Evans.

  Brad was probably Morton’s least favorite person in school. He used to be the lead singer in Nolan’s band until Nolan threw him out for bullying Robbie, which only made Brad more of a bully, and he’d later tried to beat up James. Fortunately James had sort of won that fight, mostly because he was turning into a Wargle Snarf, and Brad had left them alone for a time. But Morton had wondered how long that would last.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to get to class,” Morton said, hoping he sounded braver than he felt, and he tried again to brush past Brad. This time, Brad reached out his hand and grabbed Morton’s arm, pinning him to the spot. Morton gritted his teeth and glared up at Brad, determined not to let him see any fear, which was not easy because Brad was by far the most fearsome kid in school. In fact, looking up at him now, Morton thought he seemed even larger than he remembered. Or maybe it was just his clothes. Brad usually wore a T-shirt, probably because he liked to show off his muscular arms, but now he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with a loose-fitting trench coat over the top.

  Morton continued to look Brad in the eye, telling himself that even Brad wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and beat him up right in the middle of the school hallway — although he wasn’t certain of this because as far as he could tell there wasn’t really a limit to Brad’s stupidity.

  “Where’s your brother?” Brad croaked.

  “How should I know?” Morton said. “You think I always know where he is just because he’s my brother?”

  Brad glanced all around him, twitching with a nervous energy that made Morton think that he might lash out at any moment. Fortunately he didn’t.

  “Well, you can tell him I’m looking for him,” he said, and then he pushed Morton roughly aside and lumbered off.

  It wasn’t until Brad was out of sight that Morton started to tremble, and he couldn’t figure out if he was trembling because he was afraid or angry or confused. Not that it mattered. Either way, Brad had obviously decided it was time to get back at James, which was hardly good news, especially in light of everything else that was going on.

  Morton hurried on to history class and was the last one to arrive. Miss Francis, who was the substitute teacher for Mr. Brown, was already handing out workbooks. On the way to his desk, Morton passed by Robbie’s desk and Robbie beckoned him over.

  “Sorry about earlier,” he said. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  “It’s complicated,” Morton replied in a hushed tone. “Let’s meet up after school and I’ll tell you then.”

  “Oh, I can’t,” Robbie said apologetically. “I have to go to the dentist right after class. I’m getting a filling.”

  “Oh, well, maybe you could come over to our house later tonight?”

  Robbie swayed his head doubtfully. “Uh, I’m not sure. I’m supposed to learn my lyrics tonight. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  Morton wanted to screech at Robbie that, no, it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but stopped himself. Maybe it was selfish of him to drag Robbie into this mess. For all James’s and Melissa’s talk of living normal lives, Robbie was the one who seemed to have actually accomplished it. The last thing Morton wanted to do was take that away from him.

  “No, it’s fine. It can wait until tomorrow,” Morton said, and went to sit at his desk at the front of the class.

  At the end of the day, Morton met up with James, who was waiting beside the large cast-iron gates just outside the school grounds as usual.

  “Come on, Squirto,” he said, starting to walk as Morton approached. “I’ve got tennis with Wendy, remember. I don’t want to be late.”

  Morton ran to catch up with him, feeling flustered and confused by the day’s events. He was also surprised to find James so preoccupied with something as mundane as tennis practice when only yesterday they’d been attacked by a swarm of Mutant Rodents. It almost seemed as though he was intentionally trying to ignore the whole situation, and Morton felt a prickle of irritation.

  “I have some bad news,” he said, strutting rapidly along to keep pace with James, who was walking much faster than usual.

  James’s pace faltered for a moment, and he cast Morton a quick sideways glance, but then he continued walking. “Oh?” he said in an airy, overly casual tone, which caused Morton’s irritation to ratchet up another notch.

  “No, seriously, I think we might have a real problem on our han
ds.”

  “Is this about the rats again?” James asked with a sigh.

  “No!” Morton exclaimed. “It’s about Derek’s Antigravity Laser Cannon.” And then he quickly described the incident with Derek, leaving out the part about how he’d tried — unsuccessfully — to get Robbie to come and help him.

  “So, is this left over from your wish too?” James asked. “I mean, do you think you made the gun real when you touched it, like what happened to Timmy’s toys?”

  James was alluding to the time several weeks earlier when Timmy Clarke had rushed up to Morton in the school hall with a bag full of his newly purchased Scare Scape monster toys, which had somehow come to life the moment Morton laid hands on them. The incident might well have been fatal had it not been for the sudden appearance of the Zombie Twins, who had whisked them away like a pair of spooky Pied Pipers.

  “It can’t be that,” Morton said. “I’ve handled all kinds of toys since we reversed the wishes, and none of them has come to life, and that includes my Zombie Twins, a Gristle Grunt, and the King-Crab Spiders that are still sitting on my shelf.”

  James started rubbing his forehead in exactly the same way that Dad did when he was feeling overwhelmed. “That is a bit strange,” he said.

  “A bit strange!” Morton shrieked, the tension of the day’s events finally catching up with him. “That’s like saying Mr. Brown was a bit unkind! It’s more than strange — it’s bizarre! And it means that we were completely wrong about being rid of all the magic.”

  “Look, don’t panic,” James said, waving his hands in a calming gesture. “It’s still too early to jump to any conclusions. It might not be all that serious.”

  “I’m not panicking!” Morton shot back. “I just don’t see how you can be so calm about it all.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking,” James said, “and I’m wondering if this might be sort of like an echo.”

  “Huh?” Morton said.

  “Well, you know, we expected the magic to stop all at once, but maybe that’s not how it works. I mean we definitely reversed the wishes, but maybe there will still be a bit of magic floating around for a while, kind of like an echo. And like an echo it will sort of just die down naturally over time.”