Series 2000- Horrors of the Black Ring Page 2

He went back to the easel. He started painting very quickly, humming as he worked.

  I knew he was adding to the ugly picture of me. I had to see what he was painting. I couldn’t help myself.

  I glanced at his paper. He was painting snot-colored drips running out of my nose.

  “Like it?” he asked. “I was thinking of giving it to Danny. I know he’ll want a picture of his girlfriend to hang inside his locker.”

  I hate him. I really hate him. Did I mention that?

  After art class, Danny caught up with me in the hall. I was on my way to the cafeteria for lunch.

  “Anthony is a total pain,” Danny said. “He’s always in my face.”

  “Mine too,” I replied. I smiled. Maybe Anthony did me a favor after all. His bad jokes were bringing Danny and me together!

  “Can I sit with you at lunch?” Danny asked me. “I’d like to tell you about some ideas I have for the carnival.”

  Yes! I thought. A little shiver of excitement shot through my skin. Stay cool, I told myself. Don’t act too goofy.

  “Sure,” I said, trying to sound as if it was no big deal to sit next to the cutest boy in the class. “You know—”

  A shrill scream interrupted me.

  “Huh? What was that?” I gasped.

  “It came from in there.” Danny pointed to Miss Gold’s room. We turned and burst into the classroom as another scream ripped through the air.

  Miss Gold stood by the chalkboard, her face twisted in horror.

  “What happened?” I cried. “What’s wrong?”

  Trembling, the teacher pointed to the chalkboard.

  Every inch of it was covered with words. Someone had scrawled them over and over: THE CARNIVAL IS DOOMED. THE CARNIVAL IS DOOMED. THE CARNIVAL IS DOOMED.

  “Wow,” Danny gasped. “This is sick.”

  “Who did it?” I demanded.

  Miss Gold’s face crumpled, as if she were about to burst into tears. “I don’t know!” she wailed. “I only left the room for a few minutes!”

  Wow, I thought. Miss Gold is really upset.

  I stared at the scribbled words. “Who would do this?”

  “It’s got to be a joke,” Miss Gold murmured.

  “What if it isn’t a joke?” I asked. “What if somebody is serious about this?” Danny glanced at me. “What if someone is planning to do something horrible? Really horrible?”

  Miss Gold shook her head. She didn’t seem so upset anymore. “I don’t think so. I’ll bet someone is just trying to scare us a little.”

  “Well, anyway, we’ll erase the chalkboard,” I offered.

  “Yeah,” Danny agreed. “No problem.”

  “Thank you.” Miss Gold sighed. “That’s sweet of you guys.”

  I grabbed an eraser and tossed another one to Danny. We started to work, erasing the scrawled words.

  The carnival is doomed. The carnival is doomed.

  The words repeated in my head, over and over. What did they mean?

  Everybody loves the spring carnival, I thought. Why would anyone want to ruin it?

  “Hey, guys, what’s the word?” Anthony strolled into the room. “Playing teacher’s pet again, Beth?”

  “Somebody scribbled all over the chalkboard,” Danny told him. “Want to help us?”

  “Hey—I’d love to, but I can’t.” Anthony started to back out of the room. “I’ve got bad allergies, you know. Chalk dust makes me sneeze.”

  I stepped toward him, waving the chalky eraser. “Oh, yeah? Let’s see.”

  Anthony held up his hands. “Really,” he insisted. “I’m serious.”

  I stared at Anthony’s hands.

  Hey, wait, I thought.

  Anthony’s hands—they were covered with chalk dust.

  “Will-what are you looking at?” Anthony stammered, swinging his hands behind his back.

  “Your hands are covered with chalk!” I accused.

  Danny, Miss Gold, and I stared hard at him. He backed away.

  “They—they are not!” he cried. “It isn’t chalk—it’s clay! I was helping Mr. Martin clean up after art class!”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Danny muttered. We both knew that helping teachers clean up is not the kind of thing Anthony Gonzales usually does.

  “I’ve got to go,” Anthony said. He hurried out of the room.

  “He’s got to go wash the evidence off his hands,” Danny said.

  “I’ll bet Anthony did this,” I replied. “He wanted to be in charge of the carnival. But no one wanted him.”

  “Yeah, I bet he’s jealous,” Danny agreed.

  Miss Gold shook her head. “I can’t believe Anthony would do this,” she murmured. “The kids in this school are so nice. Nothing like this has ever happened here. …”

  But it did happen, I thought.

  Somebody in this school is not so nice. …

  Amanda started driving me crazy as soon as I got up the next morning.

  “Help me arrange my Barbies today!” she begged. “I want to line them all up in order— from prettiest to ugliest.”

  I sighed. “Amanda, all Barbies look exactly the same. One can’t be prettier than another.”

  “That’s not true! Surfer Barbie is beautiful, but Rollerblade Barbie is not so hot.”

  “Oh, please. Can’t you do it yourself? I’m busy. I have to go to school today.”

  “Liar!” Amanda cried. “It’s Saturday!”

  “I know that,” I replied. “I have carnival stuff to do.”

  Some of the kids hadn’t finished their art projects for the carnival—including me. Also, I was in charge of the art sale, so I had to be there to help.

  “But you promised!” Amanda cried.

  “I did not!” I insisted. “You’re such a liar.”

  “You’re the liar!” she accused. “You never keep your promises, Beth Breath.”

  “That’s because I never make them in the first place —Amanda Panda.”

  I hate it when she calls me Beth Breath. It sounds like I have bad breath or something—and I don’t. And Amanda Panda just doesn’t sound as bad.

  “That stupid carnival takes up all your time. What about my cow eyeball?”

  “Cow eyeball? What are you talking about?” I told you she was nuts.

  “For my science class. The teacher said we could make up our own project. So I decided to dissect a cow eyeball. To see what’s inside. And you said you’d help me!”

  “Yuck. Where on earth did you get a cow eyeball?” I asked.

  “I’ve had it in my room for a week. I got it from Teddy Jackson.” Teddy Jackson is a boy in her class. His father works in some kind of lab. Teddy is always giving Amanda gross stuff to keep in her room.

  “I can’t believe you brought a real cow eyeball into the house,” I said. “And you think I’m going to cut into it with a knife? You’re crazier than I thought.”

  “You’re crazy for liking Danny Jacobs!” she shot back.

  “I don’t like him!” I protested. “I’m sorry, Amanda, but I can’t help you today. Maybe after the carnival is over.”

  “That will be too late!” Amanda started throwing one of her world-famous temper tantrums. “My project is due Monday!”

  “I said I was sorry. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “You’ll be sorry, all right!” Amanda screeched. “Just wait and see!”

  She slammed the door.

  I hurried to the kitchen to find Mom. She always hides out in the kitchen when she hears me fighting with Amanda.

  “Everything okay?” she asked when I stormed in.

  “Why did you have to have another baby after me?” I demanded. “I would have been so happy as an only child.”

  Mom just shook her head. “Someday you’ll be glad to have a sister.”

  I didn’t think that day would ever come. But I kept my mouth shut. I had something else on my mind.

  “Where’s the bird?” I asked. “Did you take him to the vet?”

  Mom n
odded. “The vet put a splint on its wing. I bought a little cage for it on my way home. It’s out on the back porch.”

  I went out to the porch. The little bird sat quietly in the cage. Mom had left him a pile of birdseed. It didn’t look as if he’d eaten much of it.

  “How are you, little bird?” I cooed. “How’s your broken wing?”

  His wing was bandaged and it looked heavy. Poor little guy, I thought. He doesn’t look too good.

  I decided to name him Chirpy. I knew it was a stupid name. But I couldn’t think of anything better.

  I sat outside on the porch for a while. I thought it would be nice to keep Chirpy company.

  After a while, Mom called me in to lunch. “How’s the bird doing, honey?” she asked.

  “Not so great,” I answered.

  “Maybe he’ll be better tomorrow,” Mom said. “Amanda, did you see Beth’s bird?”

  “She should have let Anthony run over it,” Amanda muttered.

  “How can you be so mean?” I demanded. “You and your cow eyeballs.”

  “I’m not speaking to you, Beth Breath,” Amanda said.

  “Good,” I replied. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, anyway.”

  “Girls—” Mom pleaded.

  The rest of the lunch was pretty quiet. We talked to Mom. But we wouldn’t talk to each other.

  “I wish your father was here,” Mom grumbled. Dad was away on a business trip. “Every time he goes out of town, you girls start fighting.”

  After lunch I hurried to my room. I had to get ready to go to school.

  As I grabbed my sweater, the phone rang. I have a phone in my room with my own separate line.

  I picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Stay away,” a strange voice whispered. The voice was muffled—as if someone were trying to disguise it.

  “Stay away. I’m warning you. Don’t go to school today.”

  “Hello? Who is this?” I demanded. “Anthony? Is that you?”

  CLICK.

  The caller hung up.

  I sat on my bed, shaking. I couldn’t help thinking about what had happened in Miss Gold’s room the day before.

  The carnival is doomed.

  Was that Anthony? I asked myself. Hard to tell. The voice was so muffled. It could have been anybody.

  Then I heard a noise from Amanda’s room. Giggling.

  Oh, no, I thought. Not Amanda! It wasn’t Amanda.

  I flew out of my room and burst into hers. She lounged on her bed, cradling the cordless phone against one ear.

  “Amanda—was that you?” I demanded angrily.

  “Do you mind?” she snapped. “I’m on the phone.”

  “Did you just call me?” I asked again. “Was that you using that stupid voice?”

  She sneered at me. “Why would I call you? If I want to talk to you, I’ll bang on the wall.” Then she spoke into the phone. “Teddy? I’ll call you back.”

  “You weren’t really talking to Teddy,” I said.

  “Yes, I was. What are you doing? Will you help me set up my Barbies now?”

  I stared at her. She’s insane, I thought.

  It had to be Amanda, I decided. She just wanted to get me to stay home and play with her.

  “I’m not going to fall for your stupid tricks,” I declared.

  I tripped over a couple of her Barbies as I stormed out of the room.

  Danny lived about halfway between my house and school. I found him waiting for me on his front steps. We’d planned to go to the art room a little early to set things up for the rest of the kids.

  “I hope this won’t take too long,” Danny said. “I wanted to go bike-riding today.”

  “That’s sounds like fun,” I agreed. “Maybe we can both go for a ride after we’re done.”

  Danny didn’t say anything. Did he hear me? I wondered. Does he want to go bike-riding with me or not?

  I decided not to say anything else.

  Mr. Greaves, the custodian, stood outside the door to the school, jangling his keys.

  “I’m locking up at four-thirty,” he warned us. “Make sure to finish up by then.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  It felt strange to be in school on Saturday. The halls were so quiet and empty. The classrooms were closed and dark.

  Danny and I walked quickly down the halls, our sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor. The art room was on the second floor, at the back of the building.

  The door was closed. Through the glass we could see that the room was dark.

  “I guess we’re the first ones here,” I said.

  “I hope it isn’t locked,” Danny replied. “Mr. Martin said he’d be here.”

  Danny tried the door. It opened.

  I switched on the lights.

  “No!” I gasped. “No!”

  I felt dizzy. My knees started to collapse.

  “I don’t believe it,” Danny groaned.

  The art room was completely trashed.

  Tables and chairs were knocked over. Art projects were ripped from the walls and crumpled up. Paint splattered the walls and the floor. Bits of paper and glass littered the room.

  Danny and I waded through the mess.

  “Everything is ruined,” I cried. “Everything.” I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I suddenly felt cold all over.

  Mr. Martin burst into the room. “Hey, guys. I—”

  He stopped when he saw the mess. “Oh, no,” he moaned. “Oh, no …”

  “We just walked in,” Danny murmured.

  “Who could have done this?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” Mr. Martin replied. “My car wouldn’t start. That’s why I’m late. I—I don’t believe someone from our school would do a thing like this.”

  I started to pick through the piles of trash. I recognized a bit of paper on the floor. It showed a stubby finger.

  “Here’s part of my painting.” I sighed. “Someone ripped it to pieces.”

  “Hey—check this out!” Danny called. He pointed to a piece of paper tacked to the bulletin board.

  Mr. Martin and I hurried over. On white paper were the words, scrawled in red: THE CARNIVAL IS DOOMED.

  Danny and I looked at each other.

  I shivered. This is no joke, I realized. Someone is really trying to ruin the carnival.

  But why?

  “Whoever did this might still be in the building,” Danny said. “Maybe we should take a look around.”

  Mr. Martin put a hand on Danny’s shoulder to stop him. “It might be someone dangerous, Danny.”

  Then, across the room, I saw something.

  One painting hadn’t been destroyed. One and only one.

  “No!” I gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

  “What is it, Beth?” Danny asked. “What?”

  “This-that picture—” I stammered, pointing at it. “Why is that one still here?”

  The one painting left was the one Anthony painted of me.

  I stared at the portrait of me. It hadn’t been torn up. But something had been added to it.

  Someone had painted bright red drops dribbling out of my mouth. Blood?

  “Hey—what’s up?” Anthony came bursting into the art room.

  I glared at him.

  “What? What’s going on?” he demanded. His mouth dropped as he saw the mess all over the room. “Huh? Which-who did this?”

  “You did!” I blurted out.

  “No way!” Anthony cried. “I just got here!”

  “Then why is your painting the only one that hasn’t been ripped to shreds?” I demanded.

  Anthony shrugged. “How would I know? Maybe someone recognizes great art.”

  “Not funny,” Mr. Martin scolded sternly. “This is very serious. I may have to call the police.”

  I gasped. The police? In our school?

  Other kids arrived. They all uttered cries of shock and disbelief. Even Anthony appeared to be frightened.

  He always seems to hav
e an excuse, I thought. First we catch him with chalk dust on his hands. … Now this.

  Is Anthony trying to destroy the carnival? Or is he telling the truth?

  “All right, everybody!” Mr. Martin shouted. “Calm down. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

  I grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Tina Crowley came over with a garbage bag to help me.

  “I heard about what happened in Miss Gold’s room,” she said. “The chalkboard?”

  I nodded.

  “Beth—I’m kind of scared,” Tina admitted. “I mean, we’re in charge of the carnival. What if somebody really wants to stop it? What if somebody goes after one of us?”

  I shuddered. I was thinking exactly the same thing.

  “I heard about what happened in the art room on Saturday.” Miss Gold greeted us sadly Monday morning. She looks tired, I thought. As if she hasn’t been sleeping well.

  “I know how important the art sale is for the carnival,” Miss Gold added. “So I’m sending you all up to the art room. You can spend the morning making new projects.”

  Everyone cheered.

  Miss Gold smiled at me. She knew I was in charge of the art sale.

  “Thank you, Miss Gold,” I said.

  We all trooped off to the art room. I glanced back at Miss Gold.

  She sat at her desk, tugging on the ring. She pulled on it, frowning, twisting it on her finger.

  And then she brought it close to her face and examined it. Stared at it, her lips moving—as if she were talking to the face in the ring.

  “Hey, Beth!” Tina Crowley caught me on the way to my locker after school.

  “Danny and I are baking cookies for the carnival in the home ec. lab,” she told me. “Will you help? The carnival’s only two days away, and we’re a little behind.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. I knew Amanda would be waiting for me at home. She’d probably start begging me to play with her Barbies again.

  I followed Tina to the home ec. room. I didn’t know her that well, but she seemed nice. She was small, with short blond hair. She always wore skirts and frilly tops.

  Danny was already in the kitchen, stirring a big bowl of cookie dough. Mrs. Jenkins, the home ec. teacher, was on her way out the door.

  “Hi, girls.” She smiled at me and Tina. “I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”