by R. L. Stine
I knew she wouldn’t understand. “Nothing,” I muttered.
“Skipper, did you come all the way out here just to see that building?” she asked.
“No way,” I lied. “Of course not.”
“Do you want to come to my house and see my comic book collection?”
I was so frazzled and mixed up, I said yes.
* * *
I hurried out of Libby’s house less than an hour later. Those High School Harry & Beanhead comics are the most boring comics in the world! And the art is so lame. Can’t everyone see that the two girls are drawn exactly the same, except one has blond hair and one has black?
Yuck!
Libby insisted on showing me every High School Harry & Beanhead comic she had. And she had shelves full of them!
Of course I couldn’t concentrate on those boring comics. I couldn’t stop thinking about the weird building. How could a whole building vanish without a trace?
I jogged back to the bus stop on Main Street. The sun was sinking behind the buildings. Long blue shadows tilted over the sidewalks.
When I get to the corner, I bet the building will be back! I found myself thinking.
But of course it wasn’t.
I know. I know. I have weird thoughts. I guess it comes from reading too many comic books.
I had to wait nearly half an hour for the bus to come. I spent the whole time staring at the empty lot, thinking about the vanished building.
When I finally got home, I found a brown envelope waiting for me on the little table in the hall where Mom drops the mail.
“Yes!” I exclaimed happily. The special issue of The Masked Mutant! The comics company was sending out two special editions this month, and this was the first.
I called hi to my mom, tossed my coat and heavy backpack onto the floor, and raced up the stairs to my room, the comic book gripped tightly in my hot little hand.
I couldn’t wait to see what had happened after The Galloping Gazelle sneaked into The Masked Mutant’s headquarters. Carefully, I slid the comic book out of the envelope and examined the cover.
And there it stood. The pink-and-green headquarters building. Right on the cover.
My hand trembled as I opened to the first page. MORNING OF A MUTANT was the big title in scary red letters. The Masked Mutant stood in front of a big communications console.
He stared into a wall of about twenty TV monitors. Each TV monitor showed a different member of The League of Good Guys.
“I’m tracking each one of them,” The Masked Mutant said in the first dialogue balloon. “They’ll never find me. I’ve thrown an Invisibility Curtain around my entire headquarters!”
My mouth dropped open as I read those words. I read them three times before I let the comic book slip out of my hands to my bed.
An Invisibility Curtain.
No one can see The Masked Mutant’s building because he slipped an Invisibility Curtain around it.
I sat excitedly on the edge of my bed, breathing hard, feeling the blood pulse at my temples.
Is that what happened in real life?
Is that why I couldn’t see the pink-and-green building this afternoon?
Was the comic book giving me the answer to the mystery of the missing building?
It sounded crazy. It sounded totally crazy.
But was it real? Was there really an Invisibility Curtain hiding the building?
My head was spinning faster than The Amazing Tornado-Man! I knew only one thing. I had to go back there and find out.
After school the next afternoon, I had to go with my mom to the mall to buy sneakers. I usually try on at least ten or twelve pairs, then beg for the most expensive ones. You know. The ones that light up when you walk in them.
But this time I bought the first pair I saw, plain black-and-white Reeboks. I mean, who could think about sneakers when an invisible building was waiting to be discovered?
Driving home from the mall, I started to tell Mom about the building. But she stopped me after a few sentences. “I wish you were as interested in your schoolwork as you are in those dumb comics,” she said, sighing.
That’s what she always says.
“When is the last time you read a good book?” she continued.
That’s the next thing she always says.
I decided to change the subject. “We dissected a worm today for Science,” I told her.
She made a disgusted face. “Doesn’t your teacher have anything better to do than to cut up poor, innocent worms?”
There was just no pleasing Mom today.
* * *
The next afternoon, wearing my new sneakers, I eagerly hopped on the city bus. Tossing my money into the box, I saw Libby sitting near the back. As the bus lurched away from the curb, I stumbled down the aisle and dropped beside her, lowering my backpack to the floor.
“I’m going back to that building,” I said breathlessly. “I think there’s an Invisibility Curtain around it.”
“Don’t you ever say hi?” she complained, rolling her eyes.
I said hi. Then I repeated what I had said about the Invisibility Curtain. I told her I read about it in the newest Masked Mutant comic, and that the comic may be giving clues as to what was happening in real life.
Libby listened to me intently, not blinking, not moving. I could see that she was finally starting to see why I was so excited about finding this building.
When I finished explaining everything, she put a hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel hot,” she said. “Are you seeing a shrink?”
“Huh?” I pushed her hand away.
“Are you seeing a shrink? You’re totally out of your mind. You know that — don’t you?”
“I’m not crazy,” I said. “I’ll prove it. Come with me.”
She edged closer to the window, as if trying to get away from me. “No way,” she declared. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here with a boy who thinks that comic books come to life.”
She pointed out the window. “Hey, look, Skipper — there goes the Easter Bunny! He’s handing an egg to the Tooth Fairy!” She laughed. A mean laugh.
“Ha-ha,” I muttered angrily. I have a good sense of humor. But I don’t like being laughed at by girls who collect High School Harry & Beanhead comics.
The bus pulled up to the bus stop. I hoisted my backpack and scrambled out the back exit. Libby stepped off right behind me.
As the bus pulled away, sending out puffs of black exhaust behind it, I gazed across the street.
No building. An empty lot.
“Well?” I turned to Libby. “You coming?”
She twisted her mouth into a thoughtful expression. “To that empty lot? Skipper, aren’t you going to feel like a jerk when there’s nothing there?”
“Well, go home, then,” I told her sharply.
“Okay. I’ll come,” she said, grinning.
We crossed the street. Two teenagers on bikes nearly ran us over. “Missed ’em!” one of them cried. The other one laughed.
“How do we get through the Invisibility Curtain?” Libby asked. Her voice sounded serious. But I could see by her eyes that she was laughing at me.
“In the comic book, people just stepped through it,” I told her. “You can’t feel it or anything. It’s like a smoke screen. But once you step through it, you can see the building.”
“Okay. Let’s try it,” Libby said. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “Let’s get this over with, okay?”
Walking side by side, we took a step across the sidewalk toward the empty lot. Then another step. Then another.
We crossed the sidewalk and stepped onto the hard dirt.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Libby grumbled. We took another step. “I can’t believe I’m —”
She stopped because the building popped into view.
“Ohhh!” We both cried out in unison. She grabbed my wrist and squeezed it hard. Her hand was ice-cold.
We stood a few feet from the gl
ass entrance. The bright walls of the pink-and-green building rose above us.
“You — you were right!” Libby stammered, still squeezing my wrist.
I swallowed hard. I tried to talk, but my mouth was suddenly too dry. I coughed, and no words came out.
“Now what?” Libby asked, staring up at the shiny walls.
I still couldn’t speak.
The comic book is real! I thought. The comic book is real.
Does that mean the building really belongs to The Masked Mutant?
Whoa! I warned myself to slow down. My heart was already racing faster than Speedboy.
“Now what?” Libby repeated impatiently. “Let’s get away from here — okay?” For the first time, she sounded really frightened.
“No way!” I told her. “Come on. Let’s go in.”
She tugged me back. “Go in? Are you crazy?”
“We have to,” I told her. “Come on. Don’t stop to think about it. Let’s go.”
I took a deep breath, pulled open the heavy glass door, and we slipped inside.
We took one step into the brightly lit lobby. My heart was pounding so hard, my chest hurt. My knees were shaking. I’d never been so scared in my life!
I glanced quickly all around.
The lobby was enormous. It seemed to stretch on forever. The pink-and-yellow walls gave off a soft glow. The sparkly white ceiling seemed to be a mile above our heads.
I didn’t see a reception desk. No chairs or tables. No furniture of any kind.
“Where is everyone?” Libby whispered. I could see that she was frightened, too. She clung to my arm, standing close beside me.
The vast room was empty. Not another person in sight.
I took another step.
And heard a soft beep.
A beam of yellow light shot out of the wall and rolled down over my body.
I felt a gentle tingling. Kind of a prickly feeling, the kind of feeling when your arm goes to sleep.
It swept down quickly from my head to my feet. A second or two later, the light vanished and the tingly feeling went away.
“What was that?” I whispered to Libby.
“What was what?” she replied.
“Didn’t you feel that?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t feel anything. Are you trying to scare me or something, Skipper?”
“It was some kind of electric beam,” I told her. “It shined on me when I stepped forward.”
“Let’s get out of here,” she muttered. “It’s so quiet, it’s creepy.”
I turned my eyes to the row of elevators against the yellow wall. Did I dare take a ride on one? Was I brave enough to do a little exploring?
“It-it’s just a big office building,” I told Libby, trying to work up my courage.
“Well, if it’s an office building, where are the workers?” she demanded.
“Maybe the offices are closed,” I suggested.
“On a Thursday?” Libby replied. “It isn’t a holiday or anything. I think the building is empty, Skipper. I don’t think anyone works here.”
I took a few steps toward the elevators. My sneakers thudded loudly on the hard marble floor. “But all the lights are on, Libby,” I said. “And the door was open.”
She hurried to catch up to me. Her eyes kept darting back and forth. I could see she was really scared.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You don’t think this is just an office building. You think this is the secret headquarters of that comic book character — don’t you, Skipper?!”
I swallowed hard. My knees were still shaking. I tried to make them stop, but they wouldn’t.
“Well, maybe it is,” I replied, staring at the elevators across from us. “I mean, how do you explain the Invisibility Curtain? It was in the comic book — and it was outside this building.”
“I — I can’t explain it,” Libby stammered. “It’s weird. It’s too weird. This place gives me the creeps, Skipper. I really think —”
“There’s only one way to find out the truth,” I said. I tried to sound brave, but my voice shook nearly as much as my knees!
Libby followed my gaze to the elevators. She guessed what I was thinking. “No way!” she cried, stepping back toward the glass doors.
“We’ll just ride up and down,” I told her. “Maybe open the elevator doors on a few floors and peek out.”
“No way,” Libby repeated. Her face suddenly appeared very pale. Her green eyes were wide with fright.
“Libby, it will only take a minute,” I insisted. “We’ve come this far. I have to explore a little. I don’t want to go home without finding out what this building is.”
“You can ride the elevators,” she said. “I’m going home.” She backed up to the glass doors.
Outside I saw a blue-and-white bus stop at the curb. A woman climbed off, carrying a baby in one hand, dragging a stroller in the other.
I could run out the door and climb right onto that bus, I thought. I could get out of here, safe and sound. And be on my way home.
But what would happen when I got home?
I would feel like a coward, a total wimp. And I would spend day after day wondering about this building, wondering if I had actually discovered the secret headquarters of a real supervillain.
If I jumped on the bus and rode home now, the building would still be a mystery. And the mystery would drive me crazy.
“Okay, Libby, you can go home if you want,” I told her. “I’m going to ride the elevator to the top and back.”
She stared at me thoughtfully. Then she rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll come with you,” she murmured, shaking her head.
I was glad. I really didn’t want to go alone.
“I’m only doing this because I feel sorry for you,” Libby said, following me across the marble floor to the elevators.
“Huh? Why do you feel sorry for me?” I demanded.
“Because you’re so messed up,” she replied. “You really think a comic book can come to life. That’s sad. That’s really sad.”
“Thank goodness High School Harry and Beanhead can’t come to life!” I teased. Then I added, “What about the Invisibility Curtain? That was real — wasn’t it?”
Libby didn’t reply. Instead, she laughed. “You’re serious about this!” she said. The sound of her laughter echoed in the enormous, empty lobby.
It made me feel a little braver. I laughed, too.
What’s the big deal? I asked myself. So you’re going to take an elevator ride. So what?
It’s not like The Masked Mutant is going to jump into the elevator with us, I assured myself. We’ll probably peek out at a lot of boring offices. And that’s all.
I pushed the lighted button on the wall. Instantly, the silvery elevator door in front of us slid open.
I poked my head into the elevator. It had walls of dark brown wood with a silver railing that went all the way around.
There were no signs on the walls. No building directory. No words at all.
I suddenly realized there were no signs in the lobby, either. Not even a sign with the name of the building. Or a sign to tell visitors where to check in.
Weird.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Libby held back. I tugged her by the arm into the elevator.
The doors slid shut silently behind us as soon as we stepped in. I turned to the control panel to the left of the door. It was a long silvery rectangle filled with buttons.
I pushed the button to the top floor.
The elevator started to hum. It jerked slightly as we began to move.
I turned to Libby. She had her back pressed against the back wall, her hands shoved into her jeans pockets. She stared straight ahead at the door.
“We’re moving,” I murmured.
The elevator picked up speed.
“Hey!” Libby and I both cried out at the same time.
“We-we’re going down!” I exclaimed.
I had pus
hed the button to the top floor. But we were dropping. Fast.
Faster.
I grabbed the railing with both hands.
Where was it taking us?
Would it ever stop?
The elevator stopped with a hard thud that made my knees bend. “Whoa!” I cried.
I let go of the railing and turned to Libby beside me. “You okay?”
She nodded. She stared straight ahead at the elevator door.
“We should have gone up,” I muttered tensely. “I pushed up.”
“Why doesn’t the door open?” Libby asked in a trembling voice.
We both stared at the door. I stepped to the center of the elevator. “Open!” I commanded it.
The door didn’t move.
“We’re trapped in here,” Libby said, her voice getting shrill and tiny.
“No,” I replied, still trying to be the brave one. “It’ll open. Watch. It’s just slow.”
The door didn’t open.
“The elevator must be broken,” Libby wailed. “We’ll be trapped down here forever. The air is starting to run out already. I can’t breathe!”
“Don’t panic,” I warned, struggling to keep my voice calm. “Take a deep breath, Libby. There’s plenty of air.”
She obediently sucked in a deep breath. She let it out in a long whoosh. “Why won’t the door open? I knew we shouldn’t have done this!”
I turned to the control panel. A button at the bottom read OPEN. I pushed it. Instantly, the door slid open.
I turned back to Libby. “See? We’re okay.”
“But where are we?” she cried.
I stepped to the doorway and poked my head out. It was very dark. I could see some kind of heavy machinery in the darkness.
“We’re in the basement, I think,” I told Libby. “There are all kinds of pipes and a big furnace and things.”
“Let’s go,” Libby urged, hanging back against the elevator wall.
I took a step out the door and glanced both ways. I couldn’t see much. More machinery. A row of metal trash cans. A stack of long metal boxes.
“Come on, Skipper,” Libby demanded. “Let’s go back up. Now!”
I stepped back into the elevator and pushed the button marked LOBBY.
The door didn’t close. The elevator didn’t move, didn’t hum.