59 - The Haunted School Read online

  THE HAUNTED SCHOOL

  Goosebumps - 59

  R.L. Stine

  (An Undead Scan v1.5)

  1

  An invisible hand grabbed me and pulled me off the ladder.

  I landed on my back on the gym floor with an “Oooof!” My head made a loud THUD as it banged the floorboards.

  I raised myself slowly, blinking hard, trying to shake off the shock. Then I pulled myself up on my elbows and saw Ben Jackson laughing.

  Thalia Halpert-Rodis dropped her lipstick into her bag and came running over to me. “Tommy—are you okay?” she demanded.

  “Yeah. Fine,” I muttered. “I was just testing the floor. You know. Seeing how hard it is.”

  “It isn’t as hard as your head!” Ben joked. “You’re going to have to pay for breaking the gym floor!” He laughed again.

  “Ha-ha.” Thalia rolled her eyes, then made a disgusted face at him. She turned to me. “Don’t encourage him, Tommy. He’s about as funny as a dead pigeon.”

  “I think dead pigeons are funny!” Ben insisted.

  Thalia rolled her eyes again. Then she grabbed my hand and tugged me to my feet.

  I felt so embarrassed. I wanted to go hide under the bleachers.

  Why am I always such a total klutz?

  No invisible hand pulled me off the ladder. I just fell. That’s what I usually do if I find myself on a ladder. I fall off.

  Some people are climbers. I’m a faller.

  But I really didn’t want to look like a geek in front of Thalia and Ben. After all, I just met them. And I really wanted to impress them.

  That’s why I signed up for the Dance Decorations Committee. I wanted to meet kids. It’s hard to make new friends when you start a new school in sixth grade.

  Maybe I’d better start at the beginning.

  My name is Tommy Frazer and I’m twelve. Just before school started this fall, my dad got married again. And right after the wedding, we moved to Bell Valley.

  We had to move so fast, I barely had a chance to say good-bye to my friends. And before I could catch my breath, here I was—the new kid at Bell Valley Middle School.

  I didn’t know anyone here. I hardly even knew my new mom!

  Can you imagine what it’s like to suddenly have a new school, a new house, and a new mom?

  The first couple of days at Bell Valley Middle School were hard. Kids weren’t unfriendly. But they already knew who their friends were.

  I’m not shy. But it was really impossible to just go up to someone and say, “Hi. Want to be my friend?”

  I was pretty lonely the first week or so. Then last Monday morning, Mrs. Borden, the principal, came into our room. She asked if anyone wanted to volunteer for the Dance Decorations Committee. She needed kids to decorate the gym.

  My hand was the first to shoot up. I knew it would be a great way to make new friends.

  So here I was after school in the gym two days later. Making new friends by falling on my head like a geek.

  “Do you think you should see the nurse?” Thalia asked, studying me.

  “No. My eyes always roll around like this,” I replied weakly. At least I still had my sense of humor.

  “The nurse left, anyway,” Ben said, checking his watch. “It’s late. We’re probably the only ones in the building.”

  Thalia shook out her blond hair. “Let’s get back to work,” she suggested.

  She opened her bag and pulled out her lipstick. I watched her apply a thick coat of red to her lips, even though they were already red. Then she brushed some kind of orangey powder on her cheeks.

  Ben shook his head but didn’t say anything.

  Yesterday, I heard other kids teasing Thalia about her makeup and lipstick. They said she was the only girl in sixth grade who uses that stuff every day.

  They were pretty mean to her. One girl said, “Thalia thinks she’s painting a masterpiece.”

  Another girl said, “Thalia couldn’t go to gym class because she had to wait for her face to dry.”

  A boy said, “Her face must be broken. That’s why she’s always fixing it!”

  Everyone laughed really hard.

  Thalia didn’t seem to mind all the jokes and teasing. I guess she’s used to it.

  Before school this morning, I heard some kids saying that Thalia was stuck-up. That she thought she was soooo beautiful, and that’s why she was always paying so much attention to her looks.

  She didn’t seem stuck-up to me. She seemed really nice. She was pretty awesome looking too. I wondered why she thought she needed to wear makeup at all.

  Thalia and Ben look a lot alike. They could be brother and sister, but they’re not.

  They are both tall and thin. And they both have blue eyes and curly blond hair.

  I’m short and a little chubby. And I have black hair that sticks straight out like straw. It’s real tough hair. I can brush it for hours, but it still goes wherever it wants.

  My new mom says I’ll be really handsome as soon as I lose my baby fat. I don’t think that was a very good compliment.

  Anyway, Thalia, Ben, and I were painting some big banners to go up on the gym wall. Thalia and I were working together on a banner that read BELL VALLEY ROCKS!

  Ben started to paint a poster that read DANCE TILL YOU PUKE! But Mrs. Borden poked her head in and asked him to think of a better slogan.

  He groaned and grumbled and started over. Now his poster read WELCOME, EVERYONE!

  “Hey—where’s the red paint?” Thalia called to Ben.

  “Huh?” He was down on his hands and knees, using a thick brush to paint the w in WELCOME.

  Thalia and I were also down on the floor, painting the black outlines to our poster. She climbed to her feet and stared down at Ben. “Didn’t you bring any red paint down to the gym? I only see black.”

  “I thought you were bringing it,” he replied. He pointed to a stack of cans under the basketball hoop. “What are those?”

  “All black,” she told him. “I asked you to bring down some red—remember? I want to put red in the middle of the letters. Black and red are the school colors, you know.”

  “Duh,” Ben muttered. “Well, I’m not going upstairs for it, Thalia. The art room is on the third floor.”

  “I’ll go!” I volunteered, a bit too eagerly.

  They both stared at me.

  “I mean, I don’t mind,” I added. “I can use the exercise.”

  “You really did hit your head—didn’t you!” Ben joked.

  “Do you remember where the art room is?” Thalia asked.

  I set down my brush. “Yeah. I think so. You go up the stairs in back—right?”

  Thalia nodded. Her curly blond hair bounced whenever she moved her head. “Right. You go up three flights to the top floor. Then you go straight down the hall to the back. Turn right. Then turn right again. And it’s at the back.”

  “No problem,” I said. I started jogging to the double gym doors.

  “Bring at least two cans!” she called after me. “And some clean brushes.”

  “And bring me a Coke!” Ben called. He laughed.

  What a joker.

  I started running at full speed to the exit. I’m not sure why I started to run. I guess I was trying to impress Thalia.

  I lowered my shoulder. And burst through the double doors.

  And barreled at full speed into a girl standing in the hall.

  “Hey—!” She let out a startled cry as we both toppled to the floor.

  I landed on top of her with a groan.

  Her head made a loud CRACK as it hit the concrete floor.

  Stunned, we both lay there for a second. Then I rolled off her and scrambled to my feet.

  “Sorry,” I managed
to choke out. I reached out to help her up.

  But she angrily shoved my hand away and climbed up without my help.

  As she stood, I saw that she was at least a foot taller than me. Tall and broad-shouldered and powerful looking, she reminded me of those women wrestlers on TV.

  She had white-blond hair, which had fallen over her face. She was dressed all in black. And she stared at me furiously with steel-gray eyes.

  Frightening eyes.

  “I’m really sorry,” I repeated, taking a step back as I stared up at her.

  She took a heavy step toward me. Then another. Those cold gray eyes froze me against the wall.

  She scowled. And moved closer.

  “Wh-what are you going to do?” I stammered.

  2

  I pressed my back tight against the wall. “What are you going to do?” I repeated.

  “I’m going to walk home—if you’ll ever let me!” she growled. She spun away, her hands squeezed into big fists.

  “I said I was sorry!” I called after her.

  She vanished up the stairs without turning back.

  Those weird gray eyes stayed in my mind.

  I gave her time to leave the building. Then I started up the stairs.

  It was a long climb to the top floor. My legs still felt a little shaky from running into that strange girl. And it was kind of eerie, being the only person up here.

  My shoes thudded on the hard steps, and the sound thundered in the empty stairwell. The halls stretched out like long, dark tunnels.

  I was out of breath when I finally reached the landing on the third floor. I started down the hall, humming to myself. My voice sounded hollow in the empty hall. It echoed off the long row of gray lockers.

  I stopped humming as I made my first right turn. I passed an empty teachers’ lounge. A computer lab. Then some rooms that looked empty.

  Another right turn took me into a narrow hall with wooden floors that creaked and groaned under my shoes.

  I stopped outside the room at the end of the hall. A small hand-lettered sign beside the door read ART ROOM.

  I grabbed the doorknob and started to pull open the door.

  But I stopped when I heard voices inside the room.

  Startled, I gripped the doorknob and listened. I heard a boy and a girl. They were talking softly. I couldn’t make out their words. But the kids sounded like Thalia and Ben.

  What are they doing up here? I wondered.

  Why did they follow me? How did they get up here before I did?

  I pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Hey, guys—” I called. “What’s going on?”

  My mouth dropped open. The room was empty.

  “Hey—” I called. “Are you guys in here?”

  No reply.

  My eyes darted around the big room. Golden afternoon sunlight poured in through the windows.

  The long art tables stood clean and empty. Some clay pots were drying on the window ledge. A mobile made of wire hangers and soup cans hung from the ceiling light.

  Weird, I thought, shaking my head. I heard voices in here. I know I did.

  Are Thalia and Ben playing a little joke on me? I wondered. Are they hiding up here?

  I made my way quickly to the big supply closet and pulled open the door. “Caught you!” I cried.

  No. No one in there.

  I stared into the dark closet. Am I starting to hear voices? I wondered. Maybe my fall off the ladder was worse than I’d thought!

  I reached up and pulled the chain to turn on the closet light. On both sides of me, shelves of art supplies reached to the ceiling. I spotted the red paint we needed and started to slide a few cans off the shelf.

  But I stopped when I heard a girl laugh.

  Then a boy said something. He sounded excited. He was talking rapidly. But I couldn’t make out the words.

  I spun back to the art room. No one there.

  “Hey—where are you?” I called.

  Silence now.

  I pulled a paint can off the shelf and tucked it under my arm. Then I grabbed another can with my free hand.

  “Hey—!” I called out when I heard the voices again.

  “This isn’t funny!” I cried. “Where are you hiding?”

  No reply.

  They must be in the next room, I decided. I carried the paint cans out into the art room and set them down on the teacher’s desk. Then I crept into the hall.

  I stopped at the next door and poked my head into the room. It was some kind of storage room. Boxes marked fragile were stacked against one wall.

  No one there.

  I checked the room across the hall. No one there, either.

  As I walked back to the art room, I heard the voices again.

  The girl was shouting now. And then the boy shouted too.

  It sounded as if they were calling for help. But for some reason their voices seemed muffled, kind of far away.

  My heart started to beat a little faster. My throat suddenly felt dry.

  Who is playing this joke on me? I wondered. Everyone has gone home. The whole building is empty. So who is up here? And why can’t I find them?

  “Ben? Thalia?” I shouted. My voice echoed off the long wall of gray lockers. “Are you up here?”

  Silence.

  I took a deep breath and stepped back into the art room. I’m just going to ignore them, I decided.

  I hoisted up the two cans of paint and made my way back out into the hall. I glanced quickly both ways, thinking I might see Thalia and Ben.

  A shadow leaned out from an open doorway.

  I froze and stared.

  “Who—who’s there?” I called.

  3

  A man backed out of the doorway, pulling a large vacuum cleaner. He wore a gray uniform and had the stub of an unlit cigar clenched in his teeth.

  The janitor.

  I sighed and made my way to the stairs. I don’t think he saw me.

  The stairway curved halfway down. I started down the steps, but I stopped in front of a large bulletin board on the wall. I glanced over the notices of school events, a calendar, and a lost-and-found list.

  Oh, wow. I’m in trouble. I don’t remember seeing this on my way up, I told myself.

  I gazed back up to the top of the stairs. Did I take the wrong stairway? Will these stairs take me back to the gym?

  Only one way to find out, I decided.

  Gripping the paint cans tightly, I turned and continued down.

  To my surprise, the stairs ended at the second floor.

  I gazed down a long hallway, searching for stairs to take me to the gym in the basement. But I saw only closed classroom doors and long rows of metal lockers.

  The paint cans started to feel heavy. My shoulders ached. I set the cans on the floor and took a moment to stretch my arms.

  Then I picked up the cans and started walking again, my footsteps ringing in the empty hall. I glanced into the rooms I passed.

  Whoa!

  A skeleton grinned at me from a doorway.

  My mouth dropped open. But I quickly got myself together. “Probably some kind of science lab,” I murmured.

  I thought I saw a small black cat lurking at the end of a row of lockers. I stopped and squinted down at it. Not a cat. Somebody’s black wool ski cap.

  “Tommy—what is your problem?” I said out loud.

  I never realized how creepy a school building can be after everyone has left. Especially a totally unfamiliar school building.

  I turned the corner into another long, empty hall. Still no stairs in sight.

  Ben and Thalia must wonder what happened to me, I thought. They must think I got lost.

  Well… I am lost.

  I passed a display case of shiny sports trophies. A red-and-black pennant draped over the case proclaimed GO, BISONS.

  That’s our team name. The Bell Valley Bisons.

  Aren’t bisons big and very slow? And aren’t they almost extinct?

  What a lam
e team name!

  I continued down the hall, thinking hard. Thinking of better team names. The Bell Valley Hippos… the Bell Valley Warthogs… the Bell Valley Water Buffalos…

  That last one made me laugh.

  But I stopped laughing when I realized I’d reached the end of the hall. A dead end.

  “Hey—!” I called out, my eyes searching the closed doors. Shouldn’t there be a stairway here? Some kind of exit?

  There appeared to be a narrow doorway. But it was boarded up. Old, rotting boards had been nailed over the entire opening.

  I never should have volunteered to get the paint, I told myself. This school building is too big, and I don’t know my way around.

  Thalia and Ben are probably fed up by now.

  I gazed down the long hall. Two unmarked doors stood side by side against one wall. They didn’t appear to be classroom doors.

  I decided to try one.

  I leaned forward and pushed a door with my shoulder. And stumbled into a large, dimly lit room.

  “Whoa—where am I?” My voice sounded small and shrill. Squinting into the gray light, I saw a crowd of kids staring back at me!

  4

  The kids stared back at me so stiffly, so still… still as statues.

  And then I realized they were statues!

  Statues of kids. At least two dozen of them.

  They were old-fashioned looking. Their clothes were funny, like from an old movie. The boys wore sports jackets and very wide neckties. The girls’ jackets all had wide shoulder pads. Their skirts came down to their ankles.

  I lowered the paint cans to the floor. Then I took a few cautious steps into the room.

  The statues were so real looking, so lifelike. More like department-store mannequins than statues. Their glass eyes glistened. Their red mouths were set sternly, not smiling.

  I stepped up to the statue of a boy about my age and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. Real cloth. Not sculpted stone or plaster.

  It was so dark in the room. Hard to see clearly.

  I reached into the pocket of my khakis and pulled out my red plastic lighter.

  I know, I know. I’m not supposed to have a lighter. There’s no reason why I would have one except my grandfather gave me the lighter a few weeks before he died. And I’ve carried it around with me as a good luck charm ever since.