Scare School Read online

  He turned to me. “Nice job, Sam. Thank your dad for bringing in this unusual rabbit so you could share it with us. You’d better put it back in its cage now.”

  I carried the rabbit to its cage and carefully locked it inside. Then I searched for a good place to keep the cage.

  “I hope your dad will let you bring in other interesting animals,” Mr. Kimpall said.

  “Over my dead body,” I muttered.

  I spotted an empty bookshelf against the back wall. “Think the rabbit will be safe over there?” I asked Mr. Kimpall. “I promised my dad …”

  “That should be fine,” Mr. Kimpall said. “I’m sure no one in class will disturb it.”

  I slid the cage onto the shelf. As I started back to my seat, the classroom door swung open.

  Tim, the fifth-grader I’d met in the hall after school yesterday, came walking in. He had a note in his chubby hand, which he carried to Mr. Kimpall.

  “Hey, Poster, did you see your brother?” Simpson called out. “Back in that cage!”

  Several kids laughed.

  Tim’s face turned bright red.

  “Poster’s ears are bigger!” a boy shouted.

  More laughter.

  Tim blushed even more. I could see that he didn’t like to be teased.

  “Since when do rabbits go oink-oink?” another boy joked.

  “That will be enough!” Mr. Kimpall said sharply. “Not another word.”

  He opened the note Tim had brought him and read it quickly. Then he turned to me. “Sam, Ms. Simpkin wants to see you in the office.”

  I swallowed. “The principal? What did I do?”

  Some kids laughed.

  “The note doesn’t say,” the teacher replied. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

  I climbed up from my desk and hurried out of the room. The principal’s office was on the second floor near the front of the building.

  I glanced at the clock. Nearly lunchtime.

  Ms. Simpkin was a friendly-looking middle-aged woman with straight copper-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a dark blue sweater over a long denim skirt.

  She had been chewing on a pencil, going through a stack of files. She set the pencil down and smiled at me. “Are you Sam?” she asked.

  I nodded. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I still felt nervous. “Yes. Sam Waterbury.”

  “Well, I just wanted to say welcome,” she said. She leaned forward and shook my hand. “I didn’t get to meet you yesterday. And I like to meet all of my students.”

  “Oh. Uh … thanks,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

  She shuffled through some papers. “I need you to sign these student forms. Here.” She handed me the pencil she’d been chewing on.

  I signed the papers. When I looked up, she was staring hard at me.

  “How is it going so far?” she asked.

  “Well … ” Should I tell her about yesterday? Should I tell her about my battle with the imp?

  I couldn’t decide.

  “It’s hard to be a new kid here,” she said as if reading my mind. “I know it isn’t easy, Sam. But—”

  “Ms. Simpkin—call for you on line two!” the secretary shouted from the front office.

  Ms. Simpkin smiled again and gave me a quick wave. “Good luck,” she whispered. Then she picked up the phone.

  Good luck?

  Did that mean she knew about my problems with the imp?

  The buzzer went off for lunch period. Kids streamed out into the hall, laughing and shouting. Three guys pushed past me, racing to be first in line in the lunchroom.

  By the time I reached Mr. Kimpall’s room, it was empty. I glanced to the front of the room. The teacher had left, too.

  Then I turned to the rabbit cage on the shelf against the back wall.

  And felt a stab of horror jolt my body.

  “Oh, no!” I cried. “No. Oh, no …” The cage door stood wide open.

  The ebony rabbit was gone.

  12

  No. No way. It can’t bet I told myself.

  I had closed the cage door so carefully. And I had fastened the latch.

  My hands suddenly felt ice cold. My legs wobbled weakly as I stumbled up to the cage.

  The rabbit couldn’t get out on its own, I decided. No way it could push the door open.

  But why would anyone open the cage and let it out?

  Unless …

  No!

  The imp wouldn’t come into Mr. Kimpall’s classroom—would he?

  And how would the creature even know that my dad had brought a valuable rabbit to school?

  “Where are you, rabbit?” I called out loud, my voice quivering. “Where did you go?”

  Panic made my chest flutter. My heart was thudding like a drum.

  I checked the windows. All closed.

  So the rabbit couldn’t have escaped outside.

  I dropped to my hands and knees and searched the floor.

  No sign of it.

  I crawled along the radiator, searching inside the hot air vents.

  No. No rabbit.

  “Ohhhh.” A weak sigh escaped my mouth. I felt sick.

  How could I ever explain to my dad?

  I climbed to my feet and opened the supply closet door. I clicked on the light and gazed all around for the rabbit.

  No. Not in the closet.

  When I turned around, I heard footsteps. Mr. Kimpall stepped into the room, carrying a cardboard container of coffee.

  “Sam?” He stopped at the doorway. “What are you doing in here? Why aren’t you at lunch?”

  “The rabbit … ” I choked out. “It’s … gone!”

  Mr. Kimpall’s eyes went to the open cage. His face filled with alarm. “How did it get out? I didn’t see anyone go near it.”

  “The clasp was opened,” I said. “I—I’ve got to find it. My dad will kill me!”

  Mr. Kimpall glanced around the room. “It couldn’t have gone far,” he said. “Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll find it. I’ll tell Ms. Simpkin to make an announcement. We’ll have the whole school searching.”

  “I’ve got to find it now!” I shouted. “The rabbit is so valuable. If anything happens—”

  He checked his watch. “I have to meet with some parents right now. But it won’t take long. I’ll be right back, Sam. And then I’ll help you search.”

  He hurried from the room.

  I can’t just stand here and wait, I thought. I’ve got to keep searching. I need some help.

  I hurried out to the hall. I closed the classroom door behind me in case the rabbit was hiding somewhere in the room.

  Then I ran to the lunchroom. I found Tonya just finishing her lunch at a table of girls.

  “Quick—you’ve got to help me!” I cried. I tugged her up from her chair.

  “Sam, what’s your problem?” she asked.

  “The rabbit—it got out.”

  “Oh, no.” She started to follow me out of the lunchroom.

  Simpson hurried after us. “Did you say the rabbit escaped?” he asked.

  I nodded. “It didn’t escape. Someone let it out.”

  His mouth dropped open. “The imp,” he muttered.

  I felt a chill of fright at the back of my neck. “No. … ” I muttered.

  “My cousin told me you had a fight with the imp yesterday,” Simpson said.

  I squinted at him. “Your cousin?”

  “Yeah, Tim Poster. Did you really tear off the imp’s tail?”

  Tonya and Simpson both stared hard at me.

  “Well … yeah. I did,” I answered. “But you don’t think. … ” My voice trailed off.

  “If the imp took the rabbit, you’ll never see it again,” Simpson said. “That will be the imp’s revenge.”

  “Simpson, don’t scare him!” Tonya cried. “First we have to help Sam search, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Simpson said. “But the imp always has to have his revenge. That’s why you should n
ever fight it. Never give it a hard time. It isn’t worth it.”

  “Stop talking about the imp,” Tonya said. “Can’t you see Sam is scared to death?”

  I led the way back to the classroom. “It might still be in the room,” I said. I crossed my fingers on both hands and held them up in front of me.

  Tonya patted me on the back. “We’ll cover every inch,” she promised.

  We searched the entire room, up and down. Then we went to the next classroom and searched there.

  Kids started coming back to class. Lunch period was nearly over.

  I asked if anyone had seen my rabbit. But no one had.

  “How did it get out of the cage?” a girl asked me. “Good question,” I replied unhappily.

  Still no sign of Mr. Kimpall. I decided I’d better go to the principal’s office and ask Ms. Simpkin to make an announcement over the loudspeakers.

  “Please keep searching,” I told Tonya and Simpson. Then I hurried down the hall.

  Halfway to the office, I passed my locker. What was that on the floor in front of it?

  I squinted hard, trying to make out what I was seeing.

  Did someone leave something there?

  Staring hard, I bumped into two little girls carrying some kind of science display. “Watch where you’re going!” one of them cried.

  “You almost broke it!” the other girl yelled.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  I hurried past them. My heart started to pound even harder in my chest. I could barely catch my breath.

  What is that in front of my locker door?

  I stepped up to it and dropped to the floor.

  “Nooooooo.”

  A shrill howl of horror escaped my throat.

  I grabbed the sides of my head. And stared down at the little pile …

  … the little pile of bones on the floor.

  13

  No. No. No.

  The bones had been picked clean. They gleamed as if they had never had any meat on them.

  I pictured the ebony rabbit, so soft and pretty.

  Then I pictured the green imp, gripping the rabbit between its big hands. Sinking its teeth into the rabbit’s belly.

  Chewing. Chewing.

  Chewing and swallowing the beautiful rabbit chunk by chunk. Then licking the bones clean. Licking them until they shone.

  Leaning over the carefully stacked bones, I felt sick.

  My stomach lurched. I clamped a hand over my mouth.

  I shut my eyes and held my breath, waiting for the tight feeling in my throat to pass.

  I pictured my dad.

  What could I say to him? How could I explain?

  Would he lose his job because of this?

  I opened my eyes and forced myself to stand up straight.

  Words on my locker door came into focus.

  Words scrawled in red paint. A message I had seen before: READ MY LETTER: WHO WILL DROP FIRST?

  “I’m not going to take this,” I muttered. I clenched my hands into tight fists.

  “That ugly green creature won’t get away with this.”

  My hand trembled as I unlocked my locker and pulled open the door. Carefully, I cupped my hands and lifted the pile of bones onto my locker floor.

  I picked up the imp’s tail. It still felt warm, even though it was no longer attached. I wrapped it like a garden hose and shoved it to the back of the top shelf.

  Even if the imp opens my locker again, he’s too short to reach it, I thought.

  Then I closed the locker and hurried to Ms. Simpkin’s office.

  Several kids were bunched in front of the counter. I pushed my way into the middle of them and called to the secretary. “I’ve got to see Ms. Simpkin—right away!”

  The secretary, a large, gray-haired woman in a flowery dress, was on the phone. She motioned with one hand for me to wait.

  “But it’s an emergency!” I shouted. “A valuable rabbit has been eaten and—”

  The woman lowered the phone from her ear. “The principal isn’t in. She’s away at a meeting this afternoon.”

  “Huh?” I stared at her in disbelief. “This is an emergency!”

  She had returned to her phone call. The other kids were staring at me.

  I spun away from the counter and ran out of the office. My mind was whirring. I didn’t even pay any attention to where I was going.

  I shoved open the front doors of the school and leaped outside. I gazed out at a bright, sunny day. A gust of cold wind reminded me it was November.

  What am I doing out here? I asked myself.

  Where am I going?

  Home. That was the answer.

  I’m going to tell Mom and Dad. I’m going to tell them the whole story—and this time I’m going to make them believe it.

  I’m going to tell them how this whole school lives in terror because of that evil creature.

  I stopped at the bottom of the front steps.

  Another blast of wind made the flag on the flagpole snap. The sound—right above me head—made me look up.

  I squinted at the flapping flag—and at the dark object at the top of the pole.

  Dark object?

  What was that up there?

  “I don’t believe it!” I cried.

  I realized I was staring up at the ebony rabbit. It was tied to the top of the flagpole.

  Was it alive?

  I knew I should go into the school. Find the janitors. Have them bring out their ladders.

  But I was too excited. Too worried. Too desperate.

  “You’ve got to be alive. You’ve got to!” I shouted up to the rabbit.

  Or did the imp kill it first? And then tie it to the flagpole?

  With a loud cry, I took a running leap onto the pole. I wrapped my hands around the cold metal. Gripping it tightly, I pressed my sneakers against the pole-and pushed myself up.

  Sliding my hands up, I pulled myself higher. My sneakers slipped over the smooth metal pole.

  I glanced down. I was nearly halfway up the pole.

  With a groan, I forced myself higher. My hands were rubbed raw. I tightened my legs around the pole.

  I’m not much of a climber. I’ve never been into climbing trees. And I’d never shinnied up a flagpole before.

  But get me angry enough—and I can do anything.

  As I pulled myself higher, I stared up at the rabbit.

  I could see one dark eye. The eye was open.

  Did that mean the rabbit was alive?

  A blast of cold wind made the flagpole sway.

  My hand slipped.

  I made a frantic grab for the pole, and started to slide back down.

  “Noooo!” A cry escaped my throat as I squeezed my legs tighter. And held on for dear life.

  I stopped to catch my breath. My hands were cold and raw. My legs ached.

  I gazed up at the rabbit, only a few feet above me.

  And saw its nose twitch.

  Yes!

  It’s alive, I realized.

  The eye stared down at me. I could see its whole body heaving beneath the thick rope. The long ears stood stiffly, straight back.

  The poor thing looks scared to death, I thought.

  I raised my hand. Gripped the pole. Moved my legs up. Raised my other hand. Pulled myself up.

  And touched the rabbit.

  “Whoa.” Its little heart was beating so hard.

  Holding on with one hand, I worked at the rope with the other hand. It slipped off easily and fell to the ground.

  The rabbit started to fall, too.

  Its ears flew straight up. Its eyes went wide.

  I grabbed it and tucked it under my arm.

  Then, gripping it tightly in my armpit, I began to lower myself slowly, carefully, down the pole.

  In the school windows, I could see crowds of kids and teachers watching me. They stood pressed to the glass, staring as if watching some kind of show.

  I saw the secretary from the office and a few teachers c
ome running out of the building.

  “What are you doing up there?” the secretary shouted.

  “Young man—come down right now!”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” I shouted down to them.

  A few seconds later, my sneakers touched the ground. I dropped to my knees and struggled to catch my breath, to stop my heart from racing so fast.

  The teachers huddled around me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “What were you doing up there?”

  “Your parents will have to be told about this, young man.”

  I pulled the ebony rabbit from under my arm. Its fur had been squeezed flat by my tight grip.

  “Safe and sound!” I said breathlessly.

  And then I saw the square tag tied around its neck. A square tag with some writing on it.

  Holding the rabbit gently in one hand, I lifted the tag. And read the message scrawled in red ink: Have you learned an IMPortant lesson? Give me my tail!

  14

  Tonya and Simpson surrounded me in the hall after school.

  I had the rabbit safely in its cage and was about to carry it home. But my two new friends blocked the way.

  “Don’t tell your parents,” Tonya warned. “I know you’re angry, but don’t tell them about the imp.”

  I glared at her. “You’re kidding—right? Of course I’m going to tell them what happened. Someone has to do something about the imp.”

  Frowning, Simpson grabbed my arm. “There is nothing you can do, Sam.”

  “He is too powerful,” Tonya said.

  “I can be powerful, too!” I cried. “Especially when I’m this angry!”

  Tonya slapped her hand over my mouth. “Shut up, Sam. What if he hears you?”

  I tugged her hand away.

  “I don’t care!” I shouted. “I don’t care if he hears me or not! He’s a little creep, and he chose the wrong kid to pick on.”

  I tried to push past them. But again they moved to block my way.

  “Don’t you understand?” Simpson said in a whisper. “He has powers. He uses magic. He can do horrible things. Do you know what he did to me?”

  I stared at Simpson. “No. What?”

  “I was the new kid a few years ago,” Simpson said. “The imp wanted to show me who was boss. He made me float off the floor in the art room. He covered me in papier mâché. It was like being buried alive. I had layer after layer of papier mâché all around me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. He hung me out the window like a pin$$$ata.”