The Midnight Door

by Sam Fisher

  “I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of this story,” Melissa said with a sickly expression on her face, but James kept talking anyway.

  “After he left the church we presumed he was going to take the bats back to the Snarf, back to Brad, I mean, but he didn’t. He went home and went into the shed at the bottom of his yard.”

  “We didn’t need the X-ray glasses after that,” Wendy said. “We could see him right through the window of his shed.”

  There was a moment of silence, and Morton could tell that nobody really wanted to finish the story, but Melissa finally spoke up. “So what did he do?” she said faintly.

  “It was really horrible,” Wendy said. “He … he …” Wendy went suddenly pale. “Let’s just say he … collected their blood in a pot.”

  “He didn’t stop with the bats’ blood either,” James said. “He started adding other things from jars on his shelf. I mean, there’s no doubt about it. Nolan’s doing magic.”

  “What kind of magic?” Melissa asked, as if she didn’t really want to know the answer.

  “I think I might know,” Morton said. “There’s a recipe for a Snarf cure that uses bats’ blood in the comic I found in Nolan’s locker. I think he might actually be trying to help Brad.”

  “Well, he’s not doing a very good job,” Melissa said. “I mean Brad’s most definitely still a Snarf.”

  “That’s true,” Morton said, perplexed by the whole series of events. “But the weird thing is, you need The Book of Parchments to make that potion work, or at least a page from it.”

  “The Book of Parchments?” Wendy said, her eyes wide with alarm. “Didn’t you say that was what King’s enemy was trying to steal from him?”

  Morton nodded.

  “You’re not suggesting Nolan was King’s enemy? Surely he’s too young.”

  “Well, if he’s as good at magic as King seemed to think, he could probably make himself look young,” Melissa said.

  “Yeah, but I doubt he could give himself parents, and spend years in school creating a false identity,” James replied, clearly skeptical of the whole notion.

  Melissa paced nervously again around the room. “Well, if he hadn’t conveniently vanished, we could ask him,” she said, and then suddenly stopped pacing and turned to face the others with a look of horror on her face. “You don’t think Brad ate him, do you?”

  James grimaced and made a sucking noise with his teeth. “I admit, that was my first thought,” he said. “That’s why Wendy and I went out again tonight. I wanted to go back to the rehearsal space to see if there were any signs of, well, you know, bits of Nolan.”

  “And?” Melissa said, her eyes still wide with horror.

  “Nothing,” James replied. “The place was deserted.”

  “Which doesn’t mean no,” Melissa added.

  “At this point, no news is good news,” Wendy offered, trying to be optimistic.

  “Anyway, there’s not much more we can do tonight,” James said. “I suggest we turn in. Maybe tomorrow we’ll find out what happened to King’s library. That might help make sense of some of it.”

  Everyone was in agreement that bed was a good idea, and James got up to escort Wendy home through the secret passage so as not to waken the sleeping Mrs. Smedley.

  That night Morton dreamed he was in the school cafeteria trying to strike up conversations with the other kids, but every time he sat next to one, a Ten-Eyed Salamander or a Toxic Vapor Worm or some other monster would come and scare them away. Annoyingly the dream seemed to go on all night and by morning pretty much every monster from Scare Scape had scared away pretty much every single person he knew, and he awoke feeling not in the least rested or refreshed. In fact, when Dad called him for breakfast he thought he would feel tired for the rest of his life. But as he shuffled down the stairs, clinging to the banister for support, he smelled something so delicious that he actually started to get excited. He’d forgotten that Mrs. Smedley had promised to bake something the night before, and when he arrived at the table he saw that Dad was serving hot apple strudel with whipped cream and maple syrup. James and Melissa were already eating, both still in their pajamas, ravaging large slices of strudel like hungry Shark Hounds.

  “Hey, save some for me!” Morton said, running over and attempting to grab the serving plate from the middle of the table.

  “No need to forget your manners,” Dad said. “There’s plenty more in the oven.”

  “There is?” Melissa exclaimed, looking like she’d just found the best shoe sale in history.

  “Yes, so slow down before you choke yourself.”

  Dad helped Morton to a generous serving and then, as promised, retrieved a second strudel from the oven. The smell of cinnamon and sweet apple percolated through the entire house and for a few brief minutes Morton forgot everything about the previous night’s troubling revelations, and his mind drifted back to an earlier time, a time when tasty meals were frequent occurrences and his biggest challenge had been tracking down back issues of Scare Scape.

  “I must say, it doesn’t feel right eating Mrs. Smedley’s food without her being here to enjoy it,” Dad said, chewing happily on his own dwindling portion.

  “Why didn’t she stay?” Morton asked.

  “She said something silly about not imposing on our little family unit, which I told her was of course ridiculous. We’d be happy to have her anytime. In fact, I was thinking of inviting her to —”

  Quite suddenly James broke into a coughing fit so extreme that he spilled his milk all over the tablecloth. Melissa and Dad both jumped to their feet.

  “Gracious!” Dad exclaimed, running into the kitchen to grab a tea towel. “Good thing I didn’t serve cranberry juice this morning.”

  “James!” Melissa hissed under her breath. “You did that on purpose!”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous!” James said, folding the tablecloth over to stop the pool of milk from dripping onto his lap.

  “Did it ever occur to you,” Melissa went on, “that you’re not the only one with feelings?”

  “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” James said.

  “Yes you do,” Melissa shot back in a reprimanding voice. “And you know what I think —?”

  Dad rushed back into the room and began dabbing at the damp spot on the tablecloth before Melissa could finish her sentence.

  “What do you think?” Dad said, smiling brightly.

  “Oh, nothing, Dad,” Melissa said.

  “Really?” Dad said, his smile wavering.

  There was a moment of tense silence and then Melissa turned on her heel. “I have to go,” she said, and ran back upstairs to get dressed.

  James glanced at the clock. “Yeah, I should get going too,” he said, getting up from the table and following Melissa.

  Dad watched them both go, his smile now replaced with a puzzled frown. “Did I just miss something?” he asked.

  Morton shrugged. “I think we both did,” he said, eating the last piece of strudel, which somehow no longer seemed so sweet.

  When James and Morton arrived at school later that morning, Morton wasn’t the least surprised to find that Derek’s ever-growing fan club was dominating the scene and a crowd that appeared to include well over half the kids in school was gathered around him. What did surprise Morton, however, was the fact that Robbie was waiting for him at the gate standing beside a very irritable-looking Julie Bashford.

  The moment he saw Morton, Robbie nudged Julie on the elbow and the two of them approached.

  “Julie’s got something she wants to say to you,” Robbie said.

  “Oh,” Morton said, suddenly very confused about his emotions. “What’s that?”

  Robbie turned to face Julie, and she chewed her lip reluctantly. “I’m not saying it in front of him,” she said, glancing at James.

  James seemed to understand that this was a personal matter and made some flippant remark about needing to sharpen his pencils, then wandered off
across the school yard.

  Robbie nudged Julie on the elbow for a second time.

  “I’m sorry for saying those things about Robbie,” Julie finally said in a flat monotone voice. “I shouldn’t have said them.”

  “And … ,” Robbie prompted.

  “And Robbie really is your best friend and he likes you a lot.”

  Morton was so caught off guard that he couldn’t really think of a response. As it turned out she didn’t give him chance to respond anyway. She simply looked at Robbie and said, “Satisfied?” and marched gruffly away, leaving the two of them standing in awkward silence.

  “I’m sorry,” Robbie said at last. “She shouldn’t have said those things. They’re not true.”

  Morton wandered over to the nearest bench and flopped down tiredly. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I was the one that shouldn’t have said anything. I guess I was a bit spooked out by everything, and I’d just had a fight with James.”

  “Really? But you and James never fight,” Robbie said. “What was it about?”

  “It’s complicated,” Morton said, and then did his best to fill Robbie in on all he had missed. By the time Morton had finished, the first bell had rung and the two of them made their way into school.

  “Wow!” Robbie said at last. “I guess that explains why Nolan has been acting so weird recently. But I can’t believe Brad is a Snarf.”

  Just as Robbie was saying this, James spotted them from across the hallway and meandered over. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  Robbie nodded and looked up at James. “I was just saying I can’t believe Brad is a Snarf,” he repeated.

  “I know, it’s a bit of a shock,” James said.

  Robbie nodded thoughtfully and then added, “Still, I suppose it’s fitting. I mean, he always was a bit of a beast.”

  James seemed unpleasantly surprised by this comment and scowled at Robbie.

  “What?” Robbie retorted, staring back at James. “It’s true.”

  “There’s a big difference between being a bully and being a Snarf,” James said.

  Robbie made a snorting sound and appeared ready to argue the point, but suddenly a group of kids they’d just seen hanging out with Derek spilled into the hallway, all giggling so loudly that it was difficult to ignore them.

  “I wonder what’s so funny,” Morton said, turning his back on Robbie.

  The laughter grew suddenly even louder, and one laugh in particular seemed to drown out all the others.

  “You know, I think I’ve heard that laugh before,” James said, looking around nervously.

  “I definitely haven’t,” Robbie said. “In fact, it sounds more like a donkey than a person.”

  “A donkey with a sore throat,” Morton put in, strangely amused by the persistent laughter.

  Robbie began to chuckle at Morton’s comment, but James looked at them both sternly.

  “This is hardly the time for brevity,” he said.

  Morton giggled. “I think you mean levity.”

  “Yeah. Brevity?” Robbie said. “What’s that? Some kind of underwear?” And he burst quite unexpectedly into hysterics.

  James scowled even harder, a deep furrow appearing between his eyes. Morton stared up at him, trying not to laugh, but for some reason the more he tried not to laugh the more he wanted to laugh, and before he knew it he too was laughing hysterically at Robbie’s joke. In fact, now that Morton thought about it, the whole situation was quite ridiculous. Brad turning into a Snarf; John King falling down his own well; Mr. Brown getting eaten by cats.

  “Will you stop giggling like schoolgirls!” James said sternly.

  Robbie, who was now doubled over laughing, put his hand on Morton’s shoulder and managed to pause long enough to speak. “Did he say ‘giggling like schoolgirls’ or ‘wiggling like schoolgirls’?” he said, and then burst into an even bigger belly laugh. Morton also found this to be painfully funny and started laughing so hard that he fell to the floor gasping for air.

  As he rolled around on the floor he wondered dimly why all the other kids in the hall were also laughing, falling down one after the other and flapping around like fish on a beach. Somewhere, in a deep corner of his brain, Morton thought this was very, very odd. And then he realized he could hardly breathe.

  Quite suddenly Morton’s stomach was beginning to ache, and gray clouds were crowding in around the edges of his vision. James appeared over him, his hands firmly clamped over his ears. He was shouting something, but Morton couldn’t hear a word he was saying. He just thought how unfortunate it was that James had no sense of humor….

  Morton awoke to the sensation of cold water sloshing down his back and an immense pain in his stomach muscles. Opening his eyes, he found he was staring up at what appeared to be a janitor’s closet. He could no longer hear the cackling laughter, but he could hear some kind of commotion. He sat up to find James holding a now empty bucket and Robbie sitting in a dazed state beside him, his clothes also dripping wet.

  “The Evil Laughing Clown,” James said simply. “I’ll never forget that irritating cackle. We used to hide it under Melissa’s bed and set it off, remember? It used to make her so angry, even though she couldn’t stop laughing.”

  Morton did remember, and it suddenly all made sense. He’d seen one of the kids in the hall holding a clown doll, which he now realized must be another magically enchanted toy from the back pages of Scare Scape. It had never occurred to him that laughing uncontrollably could be so dangerous.

  “I couldn’t breathe,” Morton said, taking several gulps of air.

  “Not surprising,” James said. “Didn’t the ad for that thing say, ‘You’ll laugh yourself to death’?”

  “Sounds right,” Morton said. “What happened to the others?”

  “They’ll be fine. I took the batteries out as soon I realized what was going on,” James said. “But that’s the least of our worries right now.”

  Morton listened again to the noises coming in from the hallway. It sounded like a crazy carnival with shouting and laughing and, perplexingly, the constant barking of dogs.

  “Is there some kind of riot?” Morton asked, even though he was fairly sure he knew the answer.

  “Yes, a Scare Scape riot. It looks like everybody has something from the back pages. Annoyingly, so far the silent dog whistle seems to be the most popular.”

  “That explains the barking,” Robbie said. “But where are the teachers? Why hasn’t Finch gotten the situation under control?”

  “That’s a good question,” James said. “Firstly, I have to presume Derek wasn’t the only one with an Antigravity Laser Cannon because a bunch of teachers are stuck on the ceiling in the staff room. Mrs. Punjab and Mrs. Wallis passed out laughing, but the rest of them have completely vanished, Finch included.”

  “It sounds like everyone’s gone crazy,” Robbie said, getting to his feet and pulling the door open a crack to listen to the riotous noise outside.

  James nodded thoughtfully. “Yep! That’s pretty much it. You know, the irony is, we’re reading Lord of the Flies in English class, but it really doesn’t seem to have made an impact at all.”

  Morton hadn’t read Lord of the Flies and didn’t really know what James was talking about, but made a mental note to get the book out of the library the next chance he got.

  “What are we going to do?” Robbie asked, getting to his feet and pressing his ear to the door.

  “Well, for starters I think we’d better get somewhere safe, like out of the school,” James said. “After that, I’m out of ideas.”

  Morton and Robbie agreed that getting away from the carnage was probably the best first step.

  “Just stick close,” James said as he inched open the door. “It’s pretty insane out there.”

  James wasn’t exaggerating. The hall was crammed with stray dogs and wild children. The moment they emerged from the janitor’s closet, two very giddy girls ran up to them and blew great plumes of flame at their heads. Mo
rton felt the heat singe his eyebrows and covered his face with his hands. The girls seemed to think this was hilarious and laughed loudly before running off to perform the trick on their next victims.

  “Hot Pepper Candies,” Morton said. “I should have known those would be popular.”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell you what else is popular,” James said. “Fog Pellets. Visibility’s down to zero on the whole second floor.”

  “Uh-oh,” Morton said. “What color is the fog?”

  “White,” James said. “Why?”

  Morton sighed with relief. “Lucky it’s not green,” he explained. “Monsters are supposed to come out of the green fog. The white fog is pretty harmless, except people get lost in it and lose their memories, which might explain where most of the teachers are.”

  “Good thing we don’t have to go to the second floor, then,” James said. “Come on, we better run.”

  James led the way past barking dogs and running children as they headed toward one of the side doors, since the front door was apparently blocked by some kind of volcano, which Morton thought was most likely the Vesuvian Lava Lamp. They were halfway there when the door to a nearby bathroom burst open and a vast wave of white foam sprayed out, covering Morton from head to toe and knocking James and Robbie flat on their backs.

  “Exploding Soap,” Morton said, wiping the viscous white froth from his face and shaking great globs of it from his arms. “Suddenly it doesn’t seem as funny as it did when we used it on Melissa.”

  “Just keep running,” James said, slithering back onto his feet and attempting to sprint for the now visible exit but immediately falling over again.

  Morton helped James and Robbie to their feet and they settled into moving with a kind of sideways slide, but before they’d gotten far, a couple of overfriendly dogs came skidding and bounding onto the scene and knocked all three of them down yet again like a row of bowling pins.

  At that point, Morton heard someone calling his name. “Morton, help!”

  Morton rolled over to look in the direction of the voice and saw a small girl with frizzy blond hair bouncing on the ceiling like a helium balloon. It was Willow, the girl whose cat he had retrieved the day after the Zombie Twins released their control on the town’s feline population.