Dorothy’s Derby Chronicles: Rise of the Undead Redhead

by Meghan Dougherty

  “That’s my boyfriend!” Grandma said, giving Max a fist bump. “So how ’bout you and Dorothy go down and get those boxes?”

  “Grandma,” Dorothy hissed, embarrassed.

  Max draped a friendly arm over Dorothy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll protect you from that scary ghost.”

  The door to the basement was located behind the shelves of skates. It was slightly ajar, and Dorothy could smell decaying wood and musty earth. The door creaked when Max pushed it open, revealing a staircase that descended into darkness. Max flipped on a tiny flashlight and trotted down the stairs ahead of Dorothy. Dorothy tried to ignore the chilly sensation that washed over her skin and made the hair rise on her arms. She focused on the flashlight’s bouncing beam and stayed close behind Max.

  Something scuttled over Dorothy’s feet. Dorothy screeched and tripped forward, crashing into Max’s back. Max caught his balance, but just barely. His flashlight popped out of his hand and skipped down the staircase, the beam spinning erratically until it hit the bottom and went black.

  “You okay, Dorth?” Max whispered in the darkness.

  “Something’s down here!” Dorothy whimpered, arms wrapped tight around Max’s broad shoulders.

  Max chuckled. “Probably just a ghost.”

  “You’re making fun of me!” Dorothy said, releasing Max with a little shove.

  “Hey! It was just a joke,” Max said, steadying himself. “I should have warned you about the mice.”

  “Mice?!” Dorothy squeaked, hugging him again.

  “Let’s just find our way to the bottom,” Max said, helping Dorothy down onto his step. “There’s a light down there.”

  Dorothy felt a rush of fear and excitement as Max took her hand in the blackness. When they reached the concrete floor at the bottom of the stairs, Max yanked on a string and a single bare bulb came to life above his head. The basement was small, lined with shadowy shelves that held dusty cardboard boxes of various sizes. Max gave Dorothy a crooked grin. “See? No scary ghosts.”

  Dorothy cleared her throat. “So, um. How did Eva Disaster die?”

  Max picked up a box marked HELMETS and looked inside. “I actually don’t know. Your grandma won’t talk about it much. Sally and Eva were on the same derby team, but they were rivals. Eva died almost thirty years ago, during the Halloween championship bout.”

  “But, what kind of died?” Dorothy asked, her eyes wide. “Like accident died or…”

  Max sighed and met Dorothy’s gaze. “It wasn’t natural causes, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Murdered?” Chills crept up and down Dorothy’s spine. “But by who?”

  “Hey!” Grandma’s voice echoed down the staircase, making Dorothy jump. “If you two are done smoochin’, we need that equipment up here!”

  “Right,” Max said, handing the helmet box to Dorothy. Max picked up two other boxes and followed Dorothy as she carefully made her way up the stairs.

  Eva murdered! Right here at Galactic Skate. No wonder the place is haunted!

  Chapter 9

  The equipment wasn’t heavy, but the box was an awkward shape. Dorothy managed to carry it up the stairs safely…until the last step. She lost her footing and fumbled the box, sending dusty helmets spilling through the open doorway. Dorothy fell onto the box and a terrible, high-pitched squeal from inside the crushed cardboard made her dash to the safety of the rental desk.

  “Mouse!” Dorothy yelped, shaking her legs and patting at her body wildly, trying to get rid of the sensation of a thousand tiny rodent feet clawing at her skin.

  “Mouse dance!” Dinah shouted. She duplicated Dorothy’s kicking feet and crazy arms, and finished with a twirl and jazz hands.

  The wrinkled old man at the rental desk opened one milky eye and went back to snoring a moment later.

  Grandma laughed. “Save some of that energy for practice, girls.”

  Max set his boxes next to the rental desk and picked up Dorothy’s helmets before going to set up the rink.

  “We’ve got a big surprise exercise planned, so no peeking,” Grandma told the girls. “Just suit up and meet us at the rink in fifteen minutes.”

  Dorothy, Gigi, Jade, Dinah, and Sam peered down at the crumpled helmet box.

  Sam wrinkled her nose. “Do you really think there’s a mouse in there?”

  “Naw,” Gigi said, digging into the box. “Dorothy’s just jumpy because of that ghost.”

  Dorothy rubbed the back of her neck. Maybe Gigi was right. She was feeling a little freaked out about Eva.

  Jade picked up a dusty helmet by the strap and held it out like a dead turtle. “This stuff needs a major makeover.”

  Dorothy took the helmet from her. “It might be okay,” she said, using her finger to draw a black heart in the dust. She placed the helmet onto her head and tiny black pebbles fell out.

  “Uh, mouse poop, Dorothy,” Gigi said.

  Dorothy instantly flung the helmet off her head and slapped her hair like it was on fire. “Ew! Eww! Ewww!”

  “I got this one,” Jade said, pulling a can of disinfectant spray out of her messenger bag. Wielding it like a gun, she zapped the offending helmet and then kicked the helmet box onto its side, FBI style. Six tiny gray mice skipped out of the box. Jade shot at them with disinfectant while Dorothy, Sam, and Dinah screamed.

  When the mice were gone, the girls gingerly sorted through the boxes and washed off the equipment in the ladies’ room. Once they were dressed in pads and helmets, they rolled to the rink.

  Dorothy felt extra lucky to have Grandma’s old skates now. They were a hundred times nicer than anything in the boxes. Sam had to wear rental skates because her feet were so small. She said she didn’t mind—Grandma said she couldn’t be on the team until she was older, anyway—but Dorothy knew that Sam was secretly jealous.

  When the group rolled up to the skate floor, Dorothy’s jaw dropped. The rink had been trashed. It was covered in old, broken objects: chewed-up squeaky toys, a wooden leg in an umbrella stand, cracked bowling pins, a broken coffeemaker, and a wilting flower arrangement with a banner that read REST IN PIECES, among other things.

  “Uh, somebody call Hoarders,” Gigi said.

  Dinah clapped her hands and squealed. “It’s a yard sale! I LOVE yard sales. I call dibs on the false teeth!”

  Dorothy made a face. Those teeth were just the kind of thing Grandma liked to collect from the mortuary. “I don’t think it’s a yard sale, Dinah.”

  “Dorothy’s right,” Grandma said, swerving and hopping over objects to reach the girls. She was still wearing her cowboy hat, but she had replaced her hot pink boots with leopard-print skates. “This here is Grandma Sally’s deluxe obstacle course. If you can survive skating through this mess,” she said, sweeping her arm across the rink like a cheesy game show host, “you’ll be ready to avoid obstacles that block your path during a bout.”

  Dinah raised her hand. “What’s a bout?”

  “A game, hon,” Grandma said. “It’s what we call our matches.”

  Dorothy raised her hand, too, wanting to know how skating through garbage could possibly help her. She couldn’t even skate in a straight line yet.

  “Enough questions,” Grandma said. “Let’s do this!” She ordered the girls to start at either side of the rink. Gigi and Jade went left while Dinah and Dorothy headed to the right.

  Dorothy felt like a plump pig at a barbecue picnic as she used the wall to guide her to the starting spot. Did Grandma really expect her to skate through this mess safely? The objects glinted like jagged teeth in the disco ball’s reflected light.

  Max’s lopsided smile appeared over the wall behind Dorothy. “Deep breath, Dorth. Just take it slow and you’ll do fine.”

  Deep breath? Dorothy thought. I’m going to need a lot more than breath for this exercise.

>   Grandma handed Sam her silver whistle. “All righty, girls! Let’s see how you do.”

  On Grandma’s cue, Sam gave the whistle a shrill blast.

  “Watch and learn, people,” Gigi said, dashing into the rink. Gigi made figure eights around a rusty can opener, a broken wire whisk, and a man’s leather shoe. She weaved around a pyramid of soda cans, jumped over a birdcage, and cartwheeled through the scattering of warped textbooks.

  She was bouncing through a line of bicycle inner tubes when Grandma yelled, “Peripherals, Gigi. Watch that backside!” and lobbed her duffel bag.

  Dorothy gasped as the bag hit Gigi in the shoulder and knocked her off balance. Gigi tripped, tumbled forward, and became tangled in the old jump rope. With a “yowch!” and an “eek eek eek!” Gigi wheeled over a prickly hairbrush and a scattering of jacks. She continued to roll as items stuck to her hair, her clothing, and the frayed rope until she finally crashed into an electric guitar with an earsplitting bah-WANG!

  Gigi spat a silk flower out of her mouth. “I’m going to wring your wrinkly neck, G-ma!” She struggled to stand, but the rope was hopelessly tangled around her arms and ankles.

  “Sorry about that, hon,” Grandma said, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Guess I didn’t know my own strength. I’ll send in some help.”

  Grandma nodded to Sam, who blew the whistle.

  “My turn,” Jade said, sweeping into the rink. But instead of going to Gigi’s rescue, she raced along the wall’s edge where the path looked clear, her eyes focused on the finish line.

  She didn’t get far.

  “Marbles?” Jade yelped, tripping and skipping through tiny balls. When she was just inches away from clear floor, one of the balls caught under her wheels and she careened out of control.

  Gigi was right in Jade’s way, round bottom in the air, still impossibly tangled in the jump rope.

  “Move your big booty!” Jade screamed.

  “Who you callin’ big, you—” Gigi didn’t have a chance to finish her insult. Jade smashed into Gigi’s backside, and they rolled into a spaghetti-like heap.

  Grandma shook her head, disappointed. “So much for teamwork,” she muttered.

  Gigi and Jade were too busy fighting and name-calling to work their way out of the mess.

  Jade should have helped Gigi, right? Dorothy thought.

  Grandma elbowed Sam, and the whistle trilled again.

  Dorothy looked nervously from Grandma to Dinah. If talented skaters like Gigi and Jade couldn’t make it through the course, why should she even try?

  Dinah smiled and patted Dorothy on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll go first,” she said. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see!” With a cheery wave, Dinah clopped out into the obstacle course like a horse on roller skates.

  Dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Dinah.” She was glad the goofy girl had joined the team after all. Dinah was strange, but nice, too.

  “What’s that girl up to now?” Max asked, resting his dimpled chin on his hands.

  Dinah was headed right for the umbrella stand…and the wooden leg.

  Dorothy tilted her head to look at Max. “Knowing Dinah, she’s going to get that wooden leg and ride it like a horse.”

  Max laughed. “Sounds about right.”

  Dinah clippety-clopped over a snow shovel and around a one-eyed teddy bear. Arriving in front of the umbrella stand, she picked up the wooden leg, swung her leg over it, and continued roller-clopping through the debris.

  Max chuckled. “Nice call, Dorth. Do you always know what people are going to do?”

  Dorothy shrugged. “I guess so. Sometimes, anyway.”

  There were three short whistle blasts and Dorothy looked over at Grandma.

  “I’ve seen enough!” Grandma barked. “Get your sorry behinds over here. We need to talk.”

  “Guess I better untie Jade and Gigi,” Max said, swinging his legs up and over the wall.

  Once Gigi and Jade were free, the small team gathered around Grandma.

  “You call yourselves a roller derby team?” Grandma said. The fluorescent light directly above the group flickered like a storm cloud. “That was the most pathetic exercise I’ve seen in all my days of skating.”

  “Grandma?” Dorothy said. “Don’t you think an obstacle course is a little advanced for our first practice?”

  “Nonsense,” Grandma said. “This course is easier than picking a good skate name, if you ask me.”

  “Skate name?” Jade said, not looking up from the red rope burns on her arms.

  Grandma slapped her forehead. “You girls really don’t know anything about derby, do you?”

  “Duh,” Gigi said. “First practice. Never done this before, remember?”

  “A skate name is like a nickname,” Max said. “It’s what they call you on the track.”

  “Right,” Grandma said. “And you want something smart, sassy. A name that says you’re a force to be reckoned with. Take my old derby name, for instance. Shotgun Sally.” Grandma whipped her hands out of her pockets like a quick-draw gunslinger and squeezed off a couple pretend rounds. “And I didn’t just get that name because I carried a loaded revolver in my bra, you know.”

  Dorothy shuddered at the thought of Grandma with a loaded gun.

  “Don’t worry,” Gigi said, giving Dorothy an encouraging pat on the back. “You already have a great name, remember?”

  “Like what?” said a familiar mocking voice. “The Undead Redhead?” Everyone turned to see Alex skating into the rink. She was wearing her white roller skates, but instead of a sparkly leotard and tutu, she was wearing pink sweatpants and a simple V-cut T-shirt. She weaved casually through the strewn objects.

  “You have some nerve showing your face here,” Jade said, her mouth pulled into a thin, rigid line.

  Alex swerved away from Dorothy’s group. “My da—my parents say I have to practice here. So we’re going to have to share the rink.”

  “Share?” Dorothy said. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. “After what your friends did to us yesterday?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex said flatly. She turned her back on the group, flipping her silky blond ponytail. “I hope you’re going to clean this mess up now. I’ve got nationals to train for.”

  “I think it’s time to teach Little Miss Perfect a lesson,” Gigi growled, launching herself after Alex.

  “Hold up,” Max said, a hand on Gigi’s shoulder. “Alex does have the right to be here. And if you get into another fight, Uncle Enzo will kick all of you out of Galactic Skate for good.”

  Grandma blew her whistle, making the girls jump. “Okay, team, that’s practice. Go pick up the rink while I get the pizza.”

  Dinah and Sam followed orders and started gathering up items.

  “Yo, Shotgun,” Gigi said, her hands on her hips. “What do you mean practice is over?”

  “Yeah,” Jade said, yanking off her helmet. “You still haven’t told us anything about the game. Like how it’s played, the rules…”

  Grandma laughed and elbowed Max in the ribs. “Rules? You hear that? They’re worried about the rules.”

  “Seriously, G-ma,” Gigi said. “Don’t you think we should know something about the sport? We’re going to compete, right?”

  “Don’t you worry,” Grandma said. “Max here is an expert. We’ll get you all up to speed soon enough.”

  “And what about me?” Dorothy added quietly. “I didn’t go.”

  “Go where, hon? You gotta pee?” Grandma asked.

  Dorothy’s cheeks flushed. “No, Grandma. The exercise. Everyone went through the obstacle course except me.” It wasn’t like Dorothy had wanted to skate through that mess, but she didn’t want to be left out, either.

  “No prob, Dot,” Grandma said. “You can do the obstacle cour
se on Monday. I’m guessing the other girls will want to try it, too.”

  “What other girls?” Gigi asked.

  Grandma narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t have more recruits? We can’t compete with just four girls.”

  Dorothy gave Jade and Gigi a worried look. Where were they going to find more girls crazy enough to join a roller derby team? Especially this team.

  “We’ve got it covered,” Gigi said. “I’m already an awesome recruiter.”

  Jade and Dorothy glanced over to where Dinah was attaching a dog collar to the wooden leg. Dinah looked up, smiled, and patted the leg on the foot.

  “Can I keep him? Pleeease?”

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, Dorothy got up early to train before school. It was finally Friday, but Dorothy was too worried about Monday’s practice to be excited for the weekend.

  She pulled on some clothes, grabbed her skates, and headed downstairs to the old embalming room.

  The large cement room was the perfect place to skate—if you ignored the spiders and didn’t think too much about the odd tools hanging from the wall or the drain at the center of the floor.

  Dorothy’s skin crawled as she pushed a metal embalming table up against the wall next to a slow-dripping sink. How many dead bodies had been down here? Hundreds? More?

  Pull it together, she told herself. Focus on skating.

  Dorothy laced her skates and took a lap around the cement room. Her arms flailed wildly as she tried to keep both skates on the ground. Wobble, wobble, CRASH!

  After several wipeouts, she found a small wheeled cart and used it like an old lady’s walker to push herself around the room. The cart’s small size forced her to bend her knees, and she found that she was instantly more balanced.

  After one lap with the cart, she tried skating without it. To her surprise, she found that it wasn’t the cart that was giving her balance, it was the bend in her knees! Soon Dorothy was able to swing her arms in time with her strides, too, and she had picked up some speed.