Last Meeting of the Gorilla Club

by Sara Nickerson

  Josh moved through the large front room. A door led to a foyer, with a stairway going to the second floor. He remembered the face he’d seen in the upstairs window. “Hello?” he whispered. He tried again, a little louder. “Hello?”

  He still wanted to believe the meet-up was real. That Lucas had put the note in his book of poetry because there really was a Gorilla Club, and he was invited to be a new member. And maybe all the kids were upstairs, waiting for him. They were the ones doing the funny wailing noises or whatever. But what about the footsteps he’d heard outside? He couldn’t stop thinking about the NO TRESPASSING sign. The barbed wire. Loser touches the house.

  Josh turned to the front door. He put his hand on the knob. Yes, there’d been a note. And a face in the window. But there had also been footsteps and all the other things that made him know this was wrong. He’d wanted it so badly that he’d ignored all the danger signs, the warning signs. This whole thing was either a bunch of kids playing a mean joke on the new kid or—he didn’t want to think about or.

  A door slammed again, shaking the walls of the house. Josh knew it was the basement door. Whoever had been following him outside was now in the house. It didn’t matter about the Gorilla Club or kids upstairs waiting or anything else. Josh needed to get home. He knew it, in his gut. He’d known it every step of the way but only then, when the footsteps were shuffling closer, did he hear what his gut had been trying to tell him.

  To clarify: These thoughts took no time at all. He wasn’t standing there like stupid people in scary movies, the ones who hesitate a second too long and then are doomed. No, Josh’s thoughts at the moment weren’t even thoughts, really. More like flashes of understanding, about his life and how he wanted to live it.

  He grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and pulled. The door didn’t budge.

  The footsteps in the house were louder. Closer.

  Josh pulled again. The front door was stuck. No, it wasn’t stuck. It came back to Josh then, about the front door. He’d seen it from the outside—the sagging porch with its broken chair and boarded-up windows and, yes, boarded-up door. Josh was trapped.

  Like a stupid person in a scary movie, he shot up the stairs.

  SPILLED MILK

  As Josh stumbled up the stairs, the howling of the wind through the cracks of the old house grew louder. There were other sounds, too, groans and creaks. Something with claws crept along the roof, directly above him.

  All he could do was cling to the hope that there would be a Gorilla Club waiting for him upstairs. To calm himself, he recited the four short lines of the note, over and over. Gorilla Club. Saturday at Sundown. Follow the Map. Find Your Way In.

  At the top of the stairs was a landing with a small window. The window let in just enough moonlight for Josh to make out a hallway, long and wide, with doors on either side. He thought back to the face he’d seen from the yard. That face—that person—had been in one of these rooms.

  Josh put his hand on the first doorknob. He twisted and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. When his breath came out with a wheeze, he remembered that his inhaler was in his backpack. Outside. He also remembered the quiet sound of the zipper and the slam of the basement door. Josh held his breath to listen. Was that a footstep? On the stairs?

  Heart pounding, he moved to the second door. The moment his hand touched the knob he almost cried out. It was cold. So cold it seemed to burn his hand. And then—creak. There it was again. This time there was no mistaking the sound. It was a footstep, on the stairs. And then another. And another.

  Josh moved to the third door. He reached out slowly, afraid to touch the knob. But the knob was warm and it turned easily. “Hello?” he whispered. The door swung open. Josh stepped inside.

  It was cold, freezing cold inside the room. The full round moon shone in through the large open window. Shards of glass glittered across the floor.

  Josh turned around slowly. “Hello?” A creak of a closet door seemed to answer him. The closet was in the far corner. The door was open.

  Could this be it? The club thing? Because it didn’t feel right. Not at all. He stood there waiting for something to happen, something normal, and in that waiting he heard them: footsteps, soft and steady, at the top of the stairs.

  Josh crunched across broken glass to the closet and slipped inside. He closed the door behind him, but not all the way. He wanted to be able to hear what was happening with the footsteps, and he didn’t want to shut out the sliver of moonlight. He leaned forward to listen. The footsteps were louder now. They were in the hallway. Josh crouched low and looked to the back of the closet. He would hide back there, as well as he could, until the footsteps went away.

  The closet smelled terrible. Like dust and mold and old paint. Something else, too, that made his eyes sting. It was dark, and the farther he got from the narrow band of moonlight the darker it got. Still, Josh crawled to the very back, feeling his way around metal cans and crumpled newspapers and what felt like crusty old rags.

  His hand brushed against something small and hard. He heard it slide across the floor and hit the wall on the other side of the closet. He patted around the floor until he located it, and rolled it around in his hand. It felt like a lighter, like the ones he’d seen at The Last Stop, next to the bundles of wood and worm sign.

  He held it tightly and, for a moment, felt reassured. Yes, this whole thing had snowballed—or meat-loafed—out of control. There was no one here, which meant no Gorilla Club. It was just a joke.

  And what about the face in the window? Had he really seen it or had he just wanted to see someone up there, waiting for him. Or had it been one of them? Someone like Great-Aunt Evelyn or the pirate ship captain? He wished Big Brother would appear, to tell him what to do. Or at least tell him it would be okay. What would his dad say? Probably: There’s No Use Crying over Spilled Milk.

  Josh pressed himself into the corner, as far back as he could get. He listened for more footsteps. As soon as it was clear, he would go back to the basement. He would find a way to climb out. He would retrieve his backpack—he shook his head to get rid of the sound of the zipper. Why had someone opened it? Things were spinning out of control. Josh took a breath. “Three, six, nine, twelve . . . ” When he got to ninety-nine, he began whispering the states in backward alphabetical order. “Wyoming, Wisconsin, West Virginia, Washington . . . ”

  At least the terrible creaking and wailing had stopped. He still heard clawed scurrying above his head, maybe coming from the attic. He looked to the open door that let in some of the moonlight. He held onto the lighter. Things were okay. They were going to be okay. He would not cry over spilled milk.

  And then he saw them. In the other corner, right across from him. Two green eyes that glittered in the dark.

  PUZZLE

  The eyes blinked. A voice whispered. The whispers came together like words. The words came together but not in a normal way. More like a puzzle. When Josh finally pieced them together, he heard, “You made it. You found me. Welcome to the Gorilla Club.”

  He saw a sparkly rainbow.

  All the others, the ones who had slipped through, had been predictable. Even the pirate ship captain. There had never been wailing walls or mysterious houses at dusk. Something was not right. Something was really wrong. And the smell—it was overpowering. He started to wheeze.

  “What are you—what is this—” He wanted to know everything but didn’t know what to ask.

  “Paint thinner,” she said, as if thinking he was asking about the smell. “And paint, turpentine, varnish stripper, polyurethane. From the last time the house was fixed up so it could be rented to nice people.” And she laughed. The laugh seemed to make the walls tremble.

  “What is going on?” Josh whispered. “What is happening?”

  “It’s a meeting. At my house. Our last member should be here soon.” And just as she said it, a hulking figure filled the doorw
ay, blocking out the moonlight.

  THE CLOSET

  When Lucas climbed the stairs and heard the walls softly wailing, his first thought was that it was coming from him. That’s how deep his sadness was. And his fear. Maxie Moon had gone through a lot to get him into the house again. He shuddered to think why.

  If not for the kid, the oddball kid in the ripped red raincoat, Lucas never would have come this far. And with each step, he told himself he was ready to turn back. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let something bad happen again. That’s what he was afraid of. Plus, he was responsible. He’d written the note, after all.

  As much as he wanted to find Josh Duncan and get him out of the house, Lucas had no idea what he would say—about the note, or the house, or anything. The rock from his front porch was still in his pocket, and the old shoebox was clutched to his chest. He was carrying Josh’s backpack, too.

  He stood in the upstairs hallway, trying not to remember how it looked before the accident. How full of life and laughter the house had been. He wanted to be in his own home, with his parents and sisters. He wanted to be there more than anything. And he wanted to be done with the secret he’d been holding for too long.

  Lucas moved slowly down the hallway, opening doors. When each room turned up empty, he stopped in front of the one in the middle, the one he knew it would be. It was the room he had spent so many happy hours as a little kid. He dreaded going inside.

  The moon filled the room in such a peaceful and glowing way that it almost looked beautiful. Lucas stepped across broken glass to stand in front of the window. It was too much. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see. And then he opened them. There was no going back. He turned to the closet.

  Over the years he’d seen this closet door many times in his nightmares. But he wasn’t prepared for how it would look in real life. He set down the shoebox and the backpack. He stepped toward the open door.

  At first, he didn’t see anything. So he stepped inside. The kid wasn’t there, but he saw her. Or rather, he saw the eyes.

  “Where is he?” he whispered.

  No answer.

  “I did what you asked. He’s somewhere in the house. I found his backpack outside the basement window.” Lucas couldn’t stop talking. It was like he was on trial, fighting to justify his—his what? Innocence? No.

  His reason for being free of her? Maybe.

  Why wasn’t she speaking? Why were her eyes just staring like that, all green and glittering. He stepped closer, making sure that the door stayed open behind him. “I just want to help him get home,” he whispered. “Please. Where is he?”

  “I’m right here,” a voice said softly. “Who are you talking to?”

  Two things happened then: Lucas yelled, and the closet door slammed shut. Maybe it was from the wind, or maybe something else, but the door was supposed to stay open. All the time. Never close the door. Lucas was shouting, words that made sense and words that didn’t. And he was twisting the doorknob. Twisting and pulling.

  “It’s okay,” the soft voice said again. “I’m here. Nobody else is here.”

  Lucas turned around and pressed his back into the jammed door. A small flame of light appeared in the corner.

  “Hold the lighter closer to your face,” Maxie said. “So he can really see you.”

  Joshua Duncan followed her orders. And that’s when Lucas fainted.

  EARTHQUAKE

  When the whole world shook like that, Josh was certain it was the big one. What was he supposed to do in an earthquake? Stop, drop, and roll? Stand in the doorway? Dive underneath a desk? He couldn’t remember, so he yelled, “Earthquake!” and hoped someone would tell him what to do.

  The girl said, “It’s not an earthquake.”

  Josh opened his eyes. He hadn’t known they were shut.

  “It’s Lucas,” she continued. “He fainted.”

  Josh flicked the lighter and moved it closer to the lump of boy on the floor. Should he attempt CPR? He spun the lighter back to the girl. “What should we do?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Let’s get him out of here.”

  “We can’t,” she said. “The door is stuck.”

  “How do you know?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Josh inched his way to the door, reached up, and found the knob. He twisted and turned but it didn’t budge. He scooted back to the kid, who was making mumbling sounds. “Wake up!” Josh said. “Hey!”

  “Tell him a story,” the girl said. “Tell him a ghost story.”

  Lucas was moving his head from side to side.

  “He’s waking—”

  But before Josh could finish, Lucas was up. He grabbed Josh by the wrist, sending the lighter bouncing to the floor. Josh heard it slide and hit the wall. The small space was once again completely dark.

  “What did you say?” Lucas demanded.

  “What?”

  “Who were you talking to just now?”

  Josh Duncan had never been the brave one in any situation, but he found something new in himself at that moment. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  “Just answer the question.”

  Josh sat in the dark with the question. He knew he’d been talking to the sparkly girl, the same way he’d always talked to his friends who were not part of the real world. He knew the girl had first told him about the Gorilla Club.

  “Did you put the note in my book?”

  “Please, just answer my question. Who were you talking to?”

  There was something Josh was missing. A piece of the puzzle he was not seeing. What had happened right before Lucas fainted? The answer dawned on him, in a moment that was impossible to describe.

  “You see her?” Josh whispered. “You see her, too?”

  When he said it, the earth seemed to shake again.

  Josh dropped down and felt around for the lighter. He thought about Big Brother and Great-Aunt Evelyn and the parade of people who had populated his young life. He hadn’t ever considered that someone else might be able to see them, too.

  The world started to spin. Josh was on a dark and spinning ride where one more word, from either of them, would send him flying somewhere he didn’t want to go. He was cold and hot at the same time. He found the lighter and flicked it on. Then he clutched his stomach and understood why Lucas had fainted. The world didn’t make sense anymore.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Lucas lunged and grabbed the lighter from Josh’s hand. He held it up to his face, right into his eyes. Josh blinked, then wrapped his arms around Lucas’s waist and tried to wrestle him to the ground. “Give me back the lighter!”

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

  “Give me the lighter!”

  The boys took turns kicking and swinging. Josh crashed into the back of the closet, scattering a pile of cans. He felt something wet seep into his pants and he jumped up fast. “What is it? What is it?”

  A new chemical smell filled the closet. Lucas and Josh were locked in some sort of cartoon wrestling match. Neither one had fought in their lives, but now they were punching wildly into the air. Lucas took a swing and slipped on the wet floor. He landed on his back and shrieked. “What is this? Did you puke?”

  “No, I didn’t puke!” Josh didn’t think he puked. That’s how odd everything was. Maybe he did puke?

  “Then what did I just roll in?”

  Josh remembered the list she’d recited. “Turpentine and varnish stripper and some other stuff. I don’t know. It’s the stuff people use to fix up a house. She told me that. For the next people.”

  The fumes in the closet made them both feel sick. Josh had the lighter in his hand. He flicked it on. “I think there are rags back there,” he said. “To clean it up.” He picked up a hardened rag and started wiping up the mess. Th
e air suddenly seemed different.

  “Move it around,” Lucas said. “The lighter.”

  Hands trembling, Josh held it high. He moved it slowly around the small space.

  “She’s gone,” Lucas said flatly. “Now we’re stuck.”

  Josh felt his chest getting tight. The smell in the closet was making it worse. He reached for his backpack, to get his inhaler, and then remembered. “You didn’t happen to bring my backpack, did you? When you followed me and trapped me in here?”

  “I brought it up,” Lucas said. “But it’s out there. On the other side of the door. And don’t say it that way, okay? I didn’t want to trap you. I came to make sure you were okay.”

  “But the note—”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

  Josh held the lighter closer to Lucas. Silence filled the closet as they stood in the dark with one tiny flame between them. Then, at the exact same time, the two boys lunged for the door. They pounded until their knuckles were bruised.

  SECRET PASSAGE

  Lucas remembered the stone in his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around it and, for some reason, felt a moment of peace. He could hear Josh Duncan behind him, knocking at the back wall of the closet. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Looking for a secret passage.”

  Lucas didn’t tell him it was hopeless. He’d spent hours in this very closet as a young kid, and he knew every inch of it. There was no secret passage.

  Josh stopped knocking. His breath was shallow and wheezy. He crawled next to Lucas and the two sat in the dark without speaking. It might have only been three minutes of silence, but three minutes in the dark can be a long time. Like three minutes of making a speech can be long. Three minutes of eating in the cafeteria can be long. Three minutes of standing in your underwear in the locker room can be long.