Locker 13 Read online

  I couldn’t lie to her—could I?

  “No,” I said. “I haven’t seen it anywhere.”

  Hannah’s eyes remained on me for a few seconds more. Then she nodded slowly and turned back to the game.

  My heart was pounding hard now. I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Where did you lose it?” I asked.

  She didn’t reply. She cupped her hands around her mouth and cheered on her teammates.

  I backed away from the bench. I felt like a total creep. I jammed my hand into my pocket. Wrapped my fingers around the rubber skull.

  Give it back to her, Luke, a voice in my head urged. The voice of goodness. The voice of friendship.

  But I knew I wasn’t going to give it back. I was already trotting out of the gym and down the hall to the exit.

  I need it a little while longer, I told myself. Just a little while.

  Long enough to win the basketball championship. Long enough to get really good grades for the first time in my life. Long enough to impress my friends … to get on the swim team … to make a name for myself … long enough to be a winner.

  I squeezed the little skull all the way home. I’ll give it back to Hannah in a couple of weeks, I told myself. Two weeks, that’s all. Maybe three. And then I’ll give it back to her. And she can have her good luck again. No harm done.

  No harm done—right?

  The phone was ringing when I stepped in the kitchen door. I tossed down my backpack and ran to answer it.

  To my surprise, it was Mrs. Coffey.

  “Luke, I’m glad I caught you,” she said. “I have some really good news. You know my friend at the computer store?”

  “Yes?”

  “I spoke to him after you left the computer lab. And he said you could start work at his store on Saturday.”

  “That’s great!” I exclaimed.

  “But that’s not my good news,” Mrs. Coffey continued. “He has a friend who is putting together a show of computer animation. And his friend is very interested in seeing your work.”

  “Really?” I cried.

  “He needs short pieces for his animation show right away,” she said. “If he likes your piece, he said he will pay a thousand dollars for it.”

  “Wow!”

  “Is it finished, Luke?” Mrs. Coffey asked. “Is it ready to show to him?”

  I thought hard. “Almost,” I said. “I need two more days on it. Maybe three.”

  “Well, try to hurry,” Mrs. Coffey said. “I think he has most of the pieces he needs. He’s going to be showing them all over the country. It would be a shame to miss out—”

  “It sure would!” I interrupted. “I’ll get right to work on it, Mrs. Coffey. And thanks. Thanks a lot!”

  Excited, I hurried up to my room and turned on the computer. Maybe I can get some work done on it before dinner, I decided.

  I heard Mom come in downstairs. I called hi to her and said I was working on my computer project.

  A few minutes later the phone rang again. I heard Mom talking for a while. Then I heard her running up the stairs. She burst into my room, ran up behind me, and wrapped me in a big hug.

  “Huh? What’s that for?” I cried.

  “That was Mario’s Steakhouse on the phone,” Mom said, grinning. “You know. Your favorite restaurant. You won, Luke! Remember that drawing we all entered the last time we were there? Well, you won it. They picked your card. You won dinner for the whole family. Twelve dinners! One a month for the next year!”

  “Wow!” I jumped up from the computer. Laughing and cheering, Mom and I did a happy little dance around the room.

  “I can’t believe you won that drawing. That is so terrific!” Mom exclaimed. “We’re going to have to start calling you Lucky Luke!”

  “Yeah. Lucky Luke,” I repeated. “I like that. That’s me. Lucky Luke.”

  I worked on my animation until nearly midnight. I stared into the glow of the monitor until I couldn’t see straight, and the images became a fuzzy blur.

  “Almost finished,” I said, yawning.

  I changed into pajamas, brushed my teeth, got ready for sleep. But just before I climbed into bed, I pulled out my lucky little skull for one last look.

  I held it gently in my hand and studied it, rubbing my fingers over the smooth top of the skull. The tiny, red jewel eyes glowed brightly.

  I rubbed my fingers over the hard, bumpy teeth. I twirled the skull in my hand.

  “My little good-luck charm,” I whispered.

  I set it down carefully on my dresser, in front of the mirror. Then I turned out the lights and climbed into bed.

  I settled back on my pillows, pulling the quilt up to my chin. I yawned loudly. The mattress creaked under me. Waiting for sleep, I stared into the darkness.

  The curtains were pulled, so no light washed in from the street. The room was completely black, except for a faint red glow.

  The glow of the two red eyes in the skull. Like tiny match flames against the blackness.

  And then I saw two more glowing spots of red light. Larger. Behind the tiny skull eyes.

  Two circles of light in the mirror glass. Two flame-red circles, the size of tennis balls.

  And as their light grew brighter, more intense … I could see a form in the dresser mirror.

  Deep nostril holes … two rows of jagged, grinning teeth.

  A skull. A red-eyed skull.

  Not tiny. A huge, grinning, yellow-boned skull that filled the mirror!

  Filled the mirror! And stared out at me with those fiery, flame-red eyes.

  I sat straight up. Squeezed the quilt. And gaped in horror as the jagged teeth moved. The jaw slid open.

  And the enormous skull mouthed the words … mouthed them so clearly …

  “Lucky Luke.”

  The giant, glowing skull leaned forward, as if to push out of the mirror. The jaw worked up and down. The red glow seemed to bathe the whole room in flames.

  I opened my mouth in a horrified scream.

  I screamed and then screamed again.

  The ceiling light flashed on.

  “Luke—what’s wrong?”

  Blinking in the sudden light, I saw my dad burst breathlessly into the room. His pajama shirt was twisted. One pajama pants leg rode up to his knee. His hair was tangled from sleep, standing straight up on one side.

  “What is it?” he repeated.

  “I—I—” I pointed to the mirror. My head spun with confusion. I couldn’t find words.

  “The skull—” I finally choked out.

  Brushing back his hair, Dad crossed the room to my dresser.

  I stared into the glass.

  Nothing now.

  Nothing in there, except the reflection of my room. As he came near, I could see Dad’s worried face reflected in the glass.

  “Is this what you were screaming about?” Dad asked. He picked up the little yellow skull and held it out to me. “This skull?”

  “N-no,” I stammered.

  I was thinking hard, trying to figure out what I had seen.

  It couldn’t have been the reflection of the little skull I saw in the glass.

  No.

  The skull that loomed in the mirror was enormous, its eyes as big as basketballs!

  Dad still squinted at me from the dresser, holding the little skull up in front of him.

  “I guess I had a bad dream,” I said softly, settling back onto my pillows. “It—it was so weird. I dreamed I saw a giant skull with flaming eyes. But … it was so real!”

  Dad shook his head. “Well … if this little skull is giving you bad dreams, want me to take it away?” He started to the door.

  “No!” I screamed.

  I jumped out of bed to block his path. He looked startled as I grabbed the skull from his hand.

  “It’s … it’s a good-luck charm,” I said. “It’s brought me a lot of good luck.”

  Dad frowned as he gazed at the little skull in my hand. “You sure, Luke? It doesn’t look goo
d to me. It looks evil.”

  “Evil?” I laughed. “No way, Dad. No way. Trust me.”

  He clicked off the light on his way out. A short while later, I fell asleep gripping the skull tightly in one hand.

  A few days later I screamed my head off again.

  This time it was for fun.

  A bunch of us were on our skates up on Killer Hill. It’s actually Miller Hill. But we call it Killer Hill because it’s up at the top where Broad Street scoops straight down—a steep, steep slope down three blocks to Miller Street.

  Miller Street has the most traffic in Shawnee Valley. So the idea is, we come skating down Broad Street full speed. We come rocketing down the steep slope as fast as we can—and try to skate right through the traffic on Miller.

  It makes all the car drivers totally crazy! You can always hear tires squealing, horns honking, drivers screaming as kids come skating right at them.

  Yes. It’s really dangerous. Most kids won’t even think of trying it. But for a guy with my kind of good luck, what’s the big deal?

  It was a sunny, cold Sunday afternoon. Frost stuck to the tops of the cars. My breath smoked up in front of me as I skated to the top of Killer Hill.

  I met Darnell up there. He was having trouble with the brake on one of his skates. Finally he just ripped the brake off and tossed it in a trash can. “Why do I need brakes?” he said, grinning at me. “They only slow you down.”

  Stretch and some of his pals appeared a few minutes later. Stretch was wearing some kind of yellow sweats. He looked like Big Bird on skates!

  He lowered his shoulder and tried to bump me off my feet. But I skated away easily. And he didn’t try again.

  Things have been a little different between Stretch and me since I took his place on the basketball team. He’s my backup now. He gets to play only when I’m tired and need a short rest. And I think he’s in shock over it.

  Stretch still tries to give me a hard time. But I don’t think his heart is in it. He knows he’s a loser. He knows he’s not one of the lucky people—like me.

  “You ready to skate?” Darnell called. He pulled on his helmet. Then he stood in the middle of the street, leaning forward, hands on his knees.

  I gazed down the steep hill to the traffic below. Even though it was Sunday afternoon, cars and vans sped along Miller as if it were the afternoon rush hour.

  I adjusted my knee pads. “Ready,” I said. I moved beside Darnell.

  Stretch skated in front of us. He grinned at me. “How about a race?”

  I shook my head. “You’re too slow. Darnell and I don’t want to have to wait for you down there.”

  “Ha ha. When did you get so funny, Champ?” Stretch reached into the pocket of his yellow sweats. He held up a ten-dollar bill. “Let’s make it a real race. Ten bucks each. Winner takes all.”

  He stuck the money in front of my face. I shoved it away. “I don’t take candy from babies,” I said. “Keep your money.”

  Stretch gritted his teeth. His pale face turned an angry red. He leaned close. “You gonna race me or not?” he growled.

  I squeezed the rubber skull in my pocket. I knew there was no way I could lose. “Okay,” I said. “But I’m going to make it fair.”

  I pulled a wool scarf from my coat pocket and started to wrap it around my head. “Just to give you a chance, I’ll skate blindfolded.”

  Stretch snickered. “You’re joking, right? You’re going to skate through all those cars blindfolded?”

  “Don’t do it, Luke!” a voice called.

  I turned to see Hannah waving to me. She was hobbling up the sidewalk on crutches. Her right foot had a large, white bandage over it. “Don’t do it!” she called shrilly.

  I spun away from the guys and skated over to her.

  “Hannah—what happened?” I asked, motioning to the crutches.

  She sighed and leaned heavily on them. “It’s my ankle,” she said. “Remember when I fell off my bike? We thought it was just a sprain. But my ankle keeps swelling up like a water balloon. I had to have it drained three times.”

  “Yuck,” I said, staring down at the bandage.

  The wind fluttered her red hair. She shook her head sadly. “The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong. I—I might need surgery. I don’t know. And Mom says if it doesn’t get better, I can’t go on the junior high overnight on Wednesday.”

  “Wow. That’s bad news,” I murmured. Everyone looks forward to the overnight. The whole junior high goes to a campground by the lake, and everyone stays up and parties all night.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off Hannah’s bandaged ankle. Is this my fault? I suddenly wondered. Did I really take away her good luck? Hannah has had nothing but bad luck ever since I found the skull….

  I’m going to give it back to her, I silently promised. Real soon. Real soon.

  “You skating or not?” Stretch called. “Or are you just going to stand there and talk with your girlfriend?”

  “I’m coming,” I said. I started to wrap the scarf around my eyes.

  “Luke, don’t,” Hannah insisted. “Don’t do it blindfolded. It—it’s crazy.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I’m a superhero, Hannah. Cars will bounce right off me!”

  I skated away from her.

  “You’re wrong!” she called. “Luke, listen to me. The good luck—it doesn’t last forever!”

  I laughed. What was she talking about?

  I skated up beside Darnell and grabbed his arm to steady myself. I pulled the scarf over my eyes until I saw only black.

  “You’re crazy,” he muttered. “You could get killed, man.”

  “No way,” I declared. “I’m going to win twenty bucks from you two!”

  I heard Stretch skate up beside me. “You’re doing this for real?” he asked. “You’re going to skate into all those cars blindfolded?”

  “You going to talk or skate?” I asked him. “First one past Miller Street without stopping wins the money.”

  “Luke—don’t be crazy!” Hannah called.

  It was the last thing I heard before the three of us took off.

  I leaned forward, skating straight and hard. I heard Stretch and Darnell beside me, their Rollerblades scraping the pavement.

  As we picked up speed, I could hear the traffic on Miller. I heard a horn honk. Heard someone shout.

  I skated down … down … laughing through the darkness.

  “Luke—loooook out!”

  I heard Darnell’s scream. I heard the squeal of tires. Horns honked.

  I tossed back my head and laughed. I roared through Miller Street, the blade wheels whistling over the pavement.

  Then, as I turned my skates and came to a slow stop, I ripped the scarf away. And saw Darnell standing on the curb on the other side of Miller. His mouth was open. He shook his head.

  Stretch came skating around me. “You crazy jerk!” he shouted. “You were almost killed three times!”

  I calmly held out my hand. “Money, please.”

  “You lucky jerk,” Stretch muttered. He slapped the ten-dollar bill into my gloved hand. “You’re crazy. Really. You’re just plain crazy.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for the compliment! And the ten bucks!”

  Grumbling to himself, Stretch skated back up to his friends.

  Darnell waited for the traffic to clear, then skated over to me. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “You were almost killed,” he said, his voice shaking. “Why did you do it, Luke?”

  I grinned at him. “Because I can.”

  The weather turned warm for our overnight camp-out. Even though the trees were bare, the woods smelled fresh and sweet, almost like spring. High, white clouds dotted the bright blue afternoon sky. Twigs and dead leaves crackled and crunched under our feet as we hiked through the tall trees to the camping grounds.

  I squeezed the small skull in one hand as I walked, weighted down by the heavy pack on my back. Some kids were singing a Beatles song. Behind me, a group of girls
were telling really bad knock-knock jokes, laughing shrilly after each one.

  Coach Bendix and Ms. Raymond, another gym teacher, led the way along the twisting path through the trees. I was about halfway back in the line of kids.

  I turned and found Hannah beside me. She wore her blue windbreaker with the hood pulled up over her head. She was leaning on one crutch as she walked, struggling to keep up. “Do you have any water?” she asked.

  I slowed down. “Your parents let you come? Is your ankle better?”

  “Not really,” she replied, frowning. “But I told them I had to come anyway. I wouldn’t miss it. Do you have any water? I’m dying!”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I reached for the bottle of water in my pack. “Didn’t you bring any?”

  Hannah sighed. “My water bottle had a leak or something. It poured out and soaked all the extra clothes in my pack. Now I don’t have a thing to wear.”

  I handed her the water bottle.

  Leaning on the crutch, she pushed back the windbreaker hood, and I saw her face for the first time.

  Her skin was covered with big, red splotches.

  “Hannah, what’s that?” I cried. “Your face—”

  “Don’t look at me!” she snapped. She turned her back and took a long gulp of water.

  “But what is it?” I demanded. “Poison ivy?”

  “No. I don’t think so,” she said, still facing away from me. “I woke up with it. Some kind of red rash. All over my body.” She sighed. “I don’t get a break.”

  She handed the water bottle back to me and pulled the blue plastic hood over her head. “Thanks for the water.”

  “Does it itch?” I asked.

  She let out an angry cry. “I really don’t want to talk about it!” She grabbed the crutch tightly, swung it hard in front of her, and hurried ahead of me, dragging her bandaged foot over the dirt path.

  She’s having so much bad luck. I guess it’s my fault, I thought, squeezing the skull in my pocket.

  But why are all these terrible things happening to her? Why isn’t there enough good luck for both of us?

  I didn’t have much time to think about it.

  Behind me, I heard shrill, frightened screams. I saw kids running off the path. Screaming. Calling for help.