Don't Close Your Eyes! Read online

  I yawned. I kept blinking, trying to keep my tired eyes open.

  Mom buttered a biscuit and took a bite. “Max, I almost forgot,” she said. “Coach Freeley called, looking for you. He said your tryout for the swim team is tomorrow after school.”

  I nearly choked on my chicken leg. “Uh … I might be too tired to swim tomorrow. I haven't been sleeping well.”

  Dad had his plate piled high with chicken breasts and a mountain of mashed potatoes. He burped. Swallowed. Stared harshly at me. “Too tired? What kind of excuse is that?”

  “A lame excuse?” Colin chimed in.

  “Go to bed early tonight,” Dad said. “You'll be ready to swim tomorrow.”

  I sighed. “Maybe this swim team thing is a bad idea,” I said. “You know cold water makes my skin pucker up.”

  Dad slammed his fist on the table. One of his chicken breasts flew into his lap. “You're trying out tomorrow,” he boomed. “You promised.”

  “Maybe I'll work out for a year or two first,” I said. “You know. Get in shape. Then try out.”

  Dad glared at me. “You're going to make the team tomorrow, Max,” he said. “Colin is a champion swimmer, and you will be too.”

  Colin jumped to his feet. “Would you like to see all my trophies and medals, Max? Maybe that will inspire you.”

  “Sit down, Colin,” Mom scolded. “You just want to show off.”

  “At least I have something to show off,” Colin said. “Tell you what, Max. I'll inflate your floaties for you. You know you can't go in the water without them.”

  I was too sleepy to answer him.

  Mom did it for me. “Colin, why do you always put your brother down?”

  Colin shrugged. “Because it's fun?”

  He poked me hard in the ribs with a chicken leg. I was so tired, I barely felt it.

  Mom and Dad were talking about the swim team. I heard Dad say something about Coach Freeley and how important it was to bring my phys ed grade up.

  But their voices faded into the distance. My eyelids felt heavier … heavier … too heavy to hold up.

  I heard rain outside. Rain drumming against the kitchen window.

  Their voices became water lapping … gentle waves brushing the shore.

  Rushhhh … rushhhhhhh … rushhhhh … A soft sound in my ears.

  My head slumped onto my dinner plate. A heavy darkness washed over me.

  Rushhhh … rushhhhhhh … rushhhhh …

  That gentle sound …

  And then it, too, faded away. Silence now. And a deep darkness.

  “Whoa!” I let out a shout as I felt myself being shaken roughly.

  Colin! Colin had me by the shoulders and was shaking me awake.

  He laughed. “Maxie fainted!” he exclaimed. “Did you see that, Dad? Little Maxie fainted because he's scared of trying out for the swim team!”

  Dad laughed so hard that mashed potatoes came out his nose.

  “Stop it, you two,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Give Maxie a break.”

  Mom always sticks up for me. But Dad and Colin never pay attention.

  Colin was showing Dad how my head had hit the mashed potatoes. They started laughing all over again.

  I didn't care. I suddenly had an idea.

  I thought I knew what Mr. Park, the old storyteller at the library, had been talking about.

  “Uh … I have to make a phone call,” I said. I jumped up from the table. I rushed to my room. I found Nicky and Tara doing ghost research at my computer.

  “I think I've got it!” I cried. “I think I know what we have to do.”

  They both spun around. “Tell us,” Tara said.

  I yawned. How many hours had I been awake? I didn't want to count.

  “Look outside,” I said, pointing to my bedroom window. “It's raining real hard, right? No moon or stars.”

  “The darkest night,” Nicky said.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “The darkest night. I think I know how to get rid of Inkweed!”

  15

  I SAT DOWN ON my desk chair. I propped my hands on my knees. I listened to the rain pattering against the window and struggled to think clearly.

  “It's the darkest night,” I repeated. “So we just have to find a place even darker.”

  “Yes!” Tara agreed, pumping her fists in the air. “You're right, Brainimon! You've figured it out.”

  Then Nicky said something. And Tara said something else.

  I heard the raindrops hit the windowpane. And I heard rushhhh … rushhhhhhh … rushh-hhh…

  Dark now. The darkest night. I felt the darkness wrap around me.

  Voices somewhere in the room. But far, far away. And the rush of water against the shore.

  Then a deep silence.

  “Huh?” I was awakened by someone shaking me again. This time it was Nicky.

  His eyes were wide with fright. Tara stood next to him, shouting my name over and over.

  I glanced down. A puddle of black ink had spread over my rug. My face felt wet. I rubbed it and stared at the black ink that had come off onto my hand.

  “A close one,” Nicky said, sighing. “We couldn't get you awake.”

  “Inkweed started to pour out,” Tara said, shivering. “It was so awful.” She squeezed my hand. “Hang on, Max. Please. You've got to hang on—or all three of us are doomed.”

  “Okay,” I said, climbing shakily to my feet. “We have to act fast. I keep dozing off. I can feel him inside me. He's desperate to get out.”

  “We have to test your idea,” Tara said.

  “Yes.” I crossed the room and clicked off the lights. I closed my bedroom door. The only light came from the computer monitor. I shut it off too.

  Now the room was pitch black. So dark I couldn't see Nicky and Tara standing next to me.

  “Come on, guys,” I whispered. “Into the closet.”

  The darkest place on the darkest night.

  My heart started to pound. I led them into my clothes closet. Even blacker in there than in my room.

  They slipped in beside me. I pulled the door shut.

  I settled back against a pile of T-shirts.

  “This is dark,” Nicky said. “Wow. It can't get any darker.”

  “It's so dark, I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed,” I said.

  “Just make sure they're open!” Tara said, giving me a shove.

  “Okay. Everybody, take a deep breath,” I whispered. “I think we've done what Mr. Park said to do. We're in the darkest place on the darkest night.”

  “It has to work,” Tara whispered. “It has to!”

  16

  I LEANED AGAINST THE shirts and struggled to keep

  my eyes open.

  No one said a word.

  We waited … waited. Alert. Watching for a sign that the plan was working.

  I felt Inkweed slide around behind my forehead. I felt him pressing the backs of my eyes.

  Silence.

  More time passed.

  I started to count silently to myself. Slowly. Steadily. When I reached one hundred, I let out a long sigh.

  “It isn't working,” I said. I slammed my fist against the closet wall. “Something is wrong. Let's get out of here.”

  I pushed open the closet door. Nicky and Tara followed me into the room. I clicked on the ceiling light.

  “How can it get any darker?” Nicky asked, scratching his head.

  Tara tugged at her long red plastic earrings.

  She did that whenever she was tense or afraid. She stared at me. “Did you feel anything, Max? Did you feel Inkweed start to come out?”

  I shook my head. “He's in there,” I said, tapping my forehead. “The dark closet didn't do anything to him.”

  “We need something even darker,” Nicky said. He started to pace the room. “What could be darker than a closet?”

  Rain pattered against the window. I knew this had to be the darkest night. We had that part right. We just didn't have the darkest place.


  “How about the basement?” Tara asked.

  Nicky stopped pacing. “Yes! The basement is even darker,” he said.

  “Okay. Good idea,” I whispered.

  I tiptoed out into the hall. My parents were watching TV in their bedroom. Colin was in his room playing a video game.

  We made our way silently down to the basement. I turned off all the lights. We stepped into a corner where there were no windows.

  “This is darker,” I said. “This has to work.”

  I settled into an old armchair my dad planned to throw out. Nicky and Tara floated onto the chair arms.

  “Max, do you feel anything?” Tara whispered.

  “Not yet,” I whispered back. “Don't talk anymore. Just wait.”

  I stared into the blackness. It was cold down there. I heard the drip drip drip of water in the sink in the laundry room at the other side of the basement. The only sound.

  We waited … waited.

  And once again, I started to drift into sleep. I couldn't help it. I couldn't tell where the darkness ended and I began. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut.

  My head fell forward. I started to sleep.

  A noise startled me awake. I jumped up with a cry. I raised my eyes in time to see the basement door swing open at the top of the stairs. Light poured over us.

  Dad appeared on the landing. He had his bathrobe on and a beer bottle in one hand. “Max? Is that you down there?” he bellowed.

  “Uh … yeah,” I managed to reply.

  He squinted down at me. “It's late. What in blazes are you doing down there?” he boomed.

  “Uh … well…”

  Think fast, Max. Think fast.

  “I'm doing dry laps, Dad,” I said. “You know. Practicing my strokes. Getting ready for the swim team tryout tomorrow.”

  Would he buy that excuse? I held my breath.

  “I'm impressed,” he called down. “Keep up the good work, guy!” He slammed the basement door shut.

  Darkness washed over us again. But not dark enough. The basement wasn't working either.

  Settling back into the armchair, I turned to Nicky and Tara. “Are you still here?” I whispered. “Something is wrong. We haven't figured it out yet.”

  No reply.

  “Nicky? Tara?”

  They had disappeared again.

  Bad timing. I really needed them now. Needed them to help me think. To help me … stay … awake … awake…. Can't stay … awake…. Can't do it… any longer….

  Darkness. Followed by deeper darkness.

  I felt the ink pouring from my nose, from my mouth. Felt the warm black liquid seep out through my skin, drip by drip through my pores.

  But I was helpless to do anything about it.

  My head drooped as the evil ghost made his escape.

  I could feel the liquid rush from my ears. Feel it ooze over my arms, my shoulders, my neck.

  And start to cover me. Start to roll over me, like a heavy black ocean wave.

  Rushhhhhh. Rushhhhhhh…. Rushhhhhhhh.

  17

  “AAAAAGGGH!”

  I woke up choking. I couldn't breathe.

  Clots of ink clogged my throat. My face was covered. The ink poured over my hair.

  “Nooooo!” Gagging, choking, I forced my throat clear.

  Thrashing my arms, I pulled the heavy, wet shadow off me.

  “Get off! Get off! Get off!” I screamed wildly. Kicking and thrashing at the sliding, shifting wet figure that had tried to smother me.

  “Get off! Get off!”

  I was wide awake now, breathing so hard, my sides ached.

  Was I too late? How long had I slept? Long enough for Inkweed to make his escape?

  No. As I screamed and thrashed, battling the wet, inky figure, it started to retreat. It grew smaller … smaller … oozing back into my skin.

  And then it was gone again. Back inside me. Slithering behind my forehead, shifting around my bones.

  Inkweed had nearly escaped. He had tried to choke me, to smother me. And had failed. This time.

  But what about next time?

  I still didn't know how to defeat him.

  There was only one thing I did know. I couldn't stay awake much longer.

  Breakfast the next morning. Mom asked if I'd like eggs with my cereal or just cereal.

  “Muhhhhhh mwwwwwwhhh,” I answered.

  I'd been up all night playing video games with Nicky and Tara. That meant I'd been awake for almost forty-eight hours.

  Ever see any of those zombie movies with people staggering around like the living dead? That was me.

  “Was that a yes or a no on the eggs?” Mom asked.

  “Mwwwwww wwwwwmmmmm,” I said. I didn't have the strength to open my lips.

  I walked to school. A bright, sunny day, but I hardly noticed. I couldn't lift my head high enough to see the sky.

  My backpack weighed about two tons. My clothing felt heavy!

  Traci Wayne waved to me as she came out of her house. Normally, this would be a thrill that I would think about for the rest of the day.

  Traci Wayne waved to me!

  Today, I muttered, “Mwwww muuuwwwww,” and kept walking.

  I dragged myself to class and slumped into my seat. I was so weak from no sleep, two kids had to help me pull off my backpack.

  “Max, what's your problem?” Aaron asked.

  “Muhhhhh wuhhhh,” I told him.

  He nodded as if he understood me. He's such a weird kid.

  “I have a special announcement,” Ms. McDonald said. I knew she was standing next to her desk at the front of the class. But I couldn't see that far. It was all just a fuzzy blur.

  “We're having an assembly this morning,” Ms. McDonald said. “I know you will all enjoy our speaker. Mr. Rudolph is an important businessman in our town.”

  Some kids groaned. I tried to groan, but nothing would come out.

  Ms. McDonald ignored the groans. “Mr. Rudolph makes fire hydrants,” she continued. “And he's come to our school this morning to explain to us how they work.”

  “Oh no!” a voice said in my ear.

  I turned to see Nicky and Tara huddled next to me.

  “Does this sound like the most boring assembly in school history?” Nicky said.

  “Even more boring than the woman who explained how to recycle paper cups,” Tara said.

  They both stared hard at me. “Max will never stay awake through this assembly,” Tara said to Nicky. “What are we going to do?”

  18

  WE FOLLOWED MS. MCDONALD into the auditorium. We were the first class there, so she marched us to the front. I found myself sitting in the second row.

  A balding man with a bushy brown mustache sat on a folding chair onstage next to Mrs. Wright, our principal. The man wore a gray suit and a bright red necktie, which he kept nervously rolling and unrolling as he talked to Mrs. Wright.

  The other classes poured in and filled the auditorium. Kids were laughing and complaining about how boring the assembly was going to be.

  The Wilbur brothers sat on the other side of the aisle from me. They were already pretending to be asleep. They had their feet up on the seats in front of them and were snoring their heads off.

  I settled back in my chair. I felt my eyelids start to droop.

  “Don't go to sleep!” Nicky and Tara both screamed in my ear.

  I jumped, blinking my eyes open.

  Mrs. Wright stood behind the podium. The microphone squealed and shrieked. It took a while to fix.

  “We have a very interesting guest today,” Mrs. Wright said, smiling at Mr. Rudolph. He fiddled with his necktie while the principal introduced him.

  “Let's give Mr. Rudolph a Jefferson School welcome!” Mrs. Wright said.

  Some kids clapped politely.

  Mr. Rudolph took the podium. He cleared his throat and started to speak in a high, soft voice. “I was fascinated by fire hydrants even when I was a kid,” he said. “I used to tak
e pictures of them, and study them, and sit on them. And when I was really little, I used to talk to them.”

  I wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. But a lot of kids laughed.

  “Now I feel so lucky to be part of the fire hydrant family,” Mr. Rudolph said. “Perhaps you kids don't know this. But there are actually six different kinds of fire hydrants.”

  My eyes shut. Mr. Rudolph's voice faded into the distance.

  I guess I fell asleep.

  I woke up laughing. “Ha, ha! Ha! Ho!”

  Ow. A pain in my side. I turned to see Nicky and Tara tickling me.

  Mr. Rudolph peered down at me from the stage. “Something funny, young man?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  He pointed to a slide on the screen and continued his talk. “Now, here is my favorite hydrant,” he said. “It's practical, it's long-lasting, and it's beautiful in an industrial sort of way. I like the curves of it, and …”

  His voice faded again. I fell asleep.

  “Yaii! Ha ha hahaha!” I woke up. My ghost friends were tickling me again.

  Mr. Rudolph stopped speaking. He glared at me. “Do you find fire hydrants funny?” he asked. “I think they're very serious. Is there a joke I'm missing?”

  “Hahaha. No,” I said. “Stop tickling me! Ha ha ho ho ha!” I'm very ticklish.

  Mrs. Wright jumped up from her seat beside the podium. “Let's be polite, Max,” she scolded. “Mr. Rudolph has a lot to tell us.”

  “Fire hydrants can save your life,” Mr. Rudolph continued, his eyes on me.

  “You have to understand the whole system. And of course, you need to know about water pressure to understand the system. …”

  His voice faded. I drifted off to sleep again.

  “Hahaha ha ha! Stop it! Stop it!” I cried, jumping to my feet.

  Nicky and Tara were tickling too hard.

  Kids laughed and hooted and pointed at me.

  Mrs. Wright leaped angrily to the podium. Her face burned bright red. “Max, I'll have to ask you to leave,” she snapped into the microphone.

  “Ha ha ha,” I said. I couldn't stop.

  “Please apologize to our guest and leave the auditorium,” the principal said, waving toward the doors at the back. “I'll see you in my office after school.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. Then I yawned. Really loudly.