School of the Dead

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School of the Dead Page 9

by Avi


  Breaking free, I said, “You came because you and Dad got better jobs.”

  “Tony, we all needed a change, and your uncle Charlie left money because he wanted you to go to Penda.”

  “I hate Uncle Charlie.”

  Her face showed surprise. “Well . . . that’s a change.”

  I said, “Happens.”

  I slammed the door after her, then sat at my desk, furious with Ms. Foxton. If she wanted me to drop Jessica as a friend, there was no way I was going to do it. Jessica was the one person helping me.

  I stuffed Ms. Foxton’s phone number among the pages of the book I was reading, snapped the book shut, and grabbed the black tie and put it on. I didn’t do it right, but it was on. Then I walked the slackline but kept falling.

  Next morning, as Dad was tying on my black tie, he said, “History club today?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What’s the club do?”

  “Study history.”

  “Recent? Ancient? Local?”

  “Local.”

  As I was about to leave the apartment, Mom said, “You have a birthday party tonight, right? What’s involved?”

  “Not much.”

  Mom hesitated and then asked, “Is it that Jessica Richards who is having the party?”

  “No.”

  “May I ask who?”

  “Lilly, if you have to know.”

  Mom eased up. “Do you need to get a birthday present?”

  “Don’t know what she’d like.”

  “Would you like me to pick up a gift card?”

  “Thanks,” I snapped, as if I were doing Mom a favor.

  Since I was wearing the black tie to school for the first time, but not wanting to make a big entrance, I got to homeroom early. Only a few students were there, but that included Jessica. She looked up, saw my tie, and rewarded me with a great smile. She’s my one real friend, I thought as I sat down next to her.

  She said, “I knew you were smart.”

  Hearing the remark, a couple of nearby kids turned and looked at my tie and me. There was disapproval on their faces. I didn’t care.

  “We’ll talk at recess,” I said to Jessica, and made a point of staying next to her.

  Batalie came up to where I was sitting and said, “Tony, Mr. Bokor would like you to drop in to see him during recess.” He paused and then said, “You’re wearing a black tie.”

  Expecting more displeasure, all I said was, “I guess.”

  “Ah,” he said, with a grin, which was rare for him. “An interesting choice.”

  “I like it,” I said.

  “The best reason,” he said. Returning to his desk, he made an agitated fuss over some papers. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

  When the midmorning recess bell rang, I turned to Jessica. “Have to go see Bokor. Catch you at lunch.”

  I was sure I knew why Bokor had asked me to come—that late note he’d failed to give. Certain he was going to blame me, I went down the hall as slowly as I could, telling myself not to lose my temper.

  When I got to Bokor’s room, he looked around. “Tony. Thanks for dropping by. I think I owe you an apology.”

  Surprised, I just stood there.

  He went on: “Yesterday I asked you to stay after class to talk about your term paper. Then I forgot to give you a late pass for your next class. I gather you informed Ms. Foxton, who found you in the hall on the way to science. Apparently, she didn’t believe you. Penda has a lot of rules,” he said with a smile full of sympathy. “I’ve already told Ms. Foxton it was my fault. Sorry for any unpleasantness.”

  I was astonished. In all my years at school, no teacher had ever apologized to me. All I could manage to get out was “Thanks.”

  Bokor said, “We’ll chalk it up to experience, mine and yours. Can you accept that?”

  “Sure,” I said, and turned to go.

  “Oh, Tony. Have you chosen a topic for your paper?”

  I shifted back around.

  “We’re getting closer to the deadline,” he said. “May I urge you to do a brief history of the Penda School? I know a fair bit about it and can guide you to all kinds of sources. It’ll save you time. I even have the original building plans for the mansion, before it was a school. I would enjoy working with you. Getting to know you. It might be a fun project. The real point is, Halloween—the due date—is almost here.”

  The offer, I was sure, was part of his apology. Thankful, I said, “Sure. I’ll try.”

  “Wonderful. The sooner we meet to get you started the better. Today’s Friday. How about meeting after school on Monday? Does that work for you?”

  “Think so.”

  “See you then.”

  By the time I got to the cafeteria, recess was almost over. As I grabbed a jelly doughnut and OJ, the bell rang. Since students were not allowed to take food out of the cafeteria, I bolted everything down. As I did, Jessica came up to me.

  “What was Bokor all about?”

  “He apologized for not giving me a late note yesterday—you know, when Ms. Foxton found us in the hall. She called my mother.”

  “What for?”

  “To warn her about you.”

  Alarm filled her face. “Did you say anything?”

  “Told her I could have my own friends.”

  She gave me a great smile. “See. You’re terrific. And I think I’ve worked out a plan. You know,” she said, her voice low. “How to get rid of the Penda Boy. You’re coming to the club meeting at lunch, right?”

  “Right,” I called after her as she hurried away.

  I headed back to class, realizing I was feeling better than I had in a long time. And it was Jessica who was making me feel that way.

  At noon, as I went toward the cafeteria to meet with the club, I caught sight of the Penda Boy. He was alone. Wanting to avoid him, I reversed my direction and ducked among a group of kids. Annoying, but it was a reminder that I needed to do two things: get away from him and get rid of him.

  I got some lunch and joined Jessica, Mac, and Barney at the club table. When I sat down, Jessica wasted no time. “Okay,” she announced, “as of now Tony is a full member of the Weird History Club.”

  “Way to go,” said Mac.

  Barney held up a hand for a high five. It was like slapping soft butter.

  “Only rule,” Jessica said to me. “Every day wear something black.”

  I grinned and flapped my tie. “I’m good.”

  Jessica gave me one of her big smiles but quickly became serious when she said, “Okay. Here’s the thing: the Penda Boy is after Tony.”

  Mac put his hand to his mouth and nibbled the side of his thumbnail. “What’s he doing?” he said.

  Jessica said, “So far, only stalking him. Anyway, it’s obvious: he’s waiting to grab Tony’s soul. Like with Austin’s.”

  Mac said, “Uh-oh.”

  Barney, watery eyes blinking, added, “Not good.”

  I thought, How come they aren’t more surprised?

  “Our job,” Jessica went on, “is to do two things. First, protect Tony. Right?”

  “Right,” echoed Mac.

  “Second,” Jessica went on, “get rid of the Penda Boy.”

  “It’s about time,” said Barney.

  “Totally,” said Mac.

  I said, “Has anyone ever tried to?”

  The boys looked to Jessica. She said, “If they have, it didn’t work, did it?”

  “Nope,” said Barney.

  “Where,” I said, “do you think . . . he is?”

  Mac said, “You told us you saw him watching you from the high tower, right?”

  “First time I visited the school.”

  Mac said, “Well, people say that’s where—long time ago—he disappeared.”

  “Somewhere up there,” agreed Barney.

  Mac looked at Jessica. She gave a small nod, after which he said, “Which means, for sure, to nail him, we’re going to have to get into the towers.”

/>   I said, “How do you do that?”

  Barney said, “There are doors all over the place.”

  “Aren’t they sealed?” When no one replied, I said, “Anyone ever try to open them?”

  Mac, biting a fingernail, glanced at Jessica.

  She said, “I can do it.”

  Remembering what Ms. Foxton had told me, I said, “But I thought if you get caught in the towers, you’re in big trouble with the school.”

  “We can duck that,” said Jessica.

  I said, “How?”

  “Here’s my idea,” said Jessica. “Big Halloween party is coming up, right?”

  “Right,” echoed Barney.

  “Everyone will be in costume,” Jessica went on. “With all those costumes and masks, no one knows who anyone is.” She looked around. “True?”

  “True,” agreed Mac.

  Barney nodded.

  Jessica said: “Okay, then the Halloween party is the perfect time to sneak into the towers, because with everyone in costume, nobody will know what we’re doing.”

  That made me remember what Bokor had said, how masks were the way to hide from your enemy.

  “I like that,” said Mac.

  “Cool,” said Barney.

  “’Course,” Jessica hurried on, “we’ll know what costumes we’re in, so we can work together.”

  “Great,” said Barney.

  Jessica sat back as if she had worked it all out. She turned to me. “What do you think?”

  They were looking at me as if I was the one who was deciding. I said, “Sure, get into the towers, but then, if we find the Penda Boy, he’s a ghost, so how do we deal with him?”

  Jessica said, “I’ll work it out. First thing is, find him.”

  To me, Mac said, “And you’re the only one who sees him.”

  To which Barney added, “And the big tower is where he lives.”

  “Guess who knows most about the school?” said Jessica. “I mean the way it’s built and all.”

  “Bokor,” Mac answered.

  I said, “My term paper is about the history of the Penda School. Bokor said he’d help me. Said he’d show me the plans for the school.”

  Jessica gave me a good smile. “There—you figured it out. Bet Bokor will tell you everything you need to know. Maybe lend you the plans.”

  Barney offered another high five. “Tony, you’re a genius.”

  For a moment no one spoke. Then Jessica said, “We all in?”

  They were waiting for me.

  “In,” I heard myself say.

  “Good-bye, Penda Boy,” muttered Barney. He actually giggled.

  The end-of-lunch bell rang. The boys rushed off. As Jessica got up to go, she said, “You were terrific.”

  I remained, staring at my hands, not certain I knew what I had agreed to, only that it had happened fast. As to what, exactly, we’d do once we got hold of the Penda Boy’s ghost—how we were going to kill him—that hadn’t been said.

  Alone, I walked back to class, mulling over what happened. Something bothered me: a feeling that everyone in the Weird History Club—Mac, Barney, and even Jessica—was saying lines like in some TV sitcom. Rehearsed. Fake. As if they knew what Jessica was going to say, knew what they were going to say. Talking about sneaking into the towers. About me being the only one who saw the ghost. About Bokor knowing about those towers. About me having just met with him. A coincidence? All the same, I did believe that the Penda Boy was a ghost. And that he was after me.

  I didn’t like Barney and Mac. But Jessica was solid. If bad things happen, go to strong people for protection, right? She was my friend. Her plan about using costumes as disguises was clever. That part made me feel good.

  Then why, I asked myself, did that conversation make me uneasy? Because her talk about doing something about the Penda Boy was vague. Besides all that, it seemed it was mostly me who was to do the doing.

  And I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

  At the end of the day, as I left science class, Jessica was waiting. “I want to show you something,” she said.

  We headed down the hall, where she pointed to a spot on the wall. It was a small circle in the wood, colored a bit differently from the rest of the panel. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “A filled-in hole,” said Jessica. “Get it? From an old doorknob. This panel used to be a door. See? It’s narrower than the panels next to it. They are all over the place. Sealed. There’s even one in our homeroom. Bet it goes to a tower. All we have to do is pry it open.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “Knife. Chisel.”

  “Break it open?” I said, uneasy.

  “You want to get the ghost, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” I muttered, but my discomfort made me want to go home. “Have a nice weekend,” I said, and turned away.

  “Hey,” she called.

  I stopped.

  “Enjoy your party,” she said with a smile.

  She seemed to know everything.

  I came down one of the central stairways. On the other steps, the Penda Boy was standing there, watching me. Avoiding looking at him, I wondered if he knew what we were planning to do.

  A better question was, did I?

  On the street, Lilly was waiting with a bunch of her friends. “Tony!” she called. “Party at five!”

  “I know,” I said, glad for the reminder of the time because my head was so muddled I had forgotten.

  As I walked home, I called my mother and told her I had to be at Lilly’s party at five.

  “We’ll get you there,” she told me. “Oh, I picked up a gift card.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here’s a nice thing,” she added. “Ms. Foxton called me and told me you were right—being late for class was the history teacher’s fault.”

  “Told you.”

  “But think about it, Tony. The school made a mistake, and they were big enough to admit it. That’s not common. Ms. Foxton is a nice, honest person.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, hoping she heard my sarcasm.

  “I gave you her number. You could call her and say thanks.”

  I had no intention of calling Ms. Foxton, but as I went home, I had to admit she was acting okay. But I was equally sure it was only because Bokor had gone to her. Maybe I could tell Bokor about the Penda Boy. I felt I could trust him. He had talked about memories and ghosts, so he might understand. And he was the adviser to the Weird History Club.

  In fact, except for the Penda Boy, things were going well. I had gotten rid of Uncle Charlie’s ghost. Now all I had to do was get rid of the Penda Boy.

  I’m going to do it, I told myself. I am.

  My parents came home early, more excited about Lilly’s party than I was. Lots of smiles and knowing nods.

  “Who else will be there?” “Tell us about Lilly.” Their questions were irritating, because I had no answers.

  Dad offered a cab, but when I mapped Lilly’s address on my phone, I saw that she lived only twelve blocks away, so I went on my own. I brought a birthday gift card from H&M clothing store (whatever that was), which Mom had bought. I hoped it was okay.

  Lilly and her family lived in the second-floor apartment of an old Victorian three-decker. It reminded me of a gingerbread house, complete with colored frosting. She had invited ten kids, half boys, half girls, plus her sister, a fourth grader who also went to Penda. Lilly’s parents were there too. Younger than my parents.

  In the large living room—bookcases filled with books against the walls, along with real paintings in frames—there were balloons on the ceiling and a dangling string of colored letters spelling out Lilly—Teenager at Last.

  We kids arrived around the same time. There was lots of laughing, joking, and fooling around. Lilly was very excited. Sometimes the girls all ran off together, leaving the boys to accidentally pop balloons. I wasn’t sure how I felt: One moment I was a little kid, and enjoying it. Then I thought about Jessica and th
e Penda Boy and I was living in a different world from everyone else.

  We walked to a movie, with Lilly’s parents going along to pay for tickets. When the movie was over, her parents were waiting for us. Calmer, we went back to Lilly’s place, where we had pizza, soda, and a birthday cake. Lilly paid a lot of attention to me. I was having a good time.

  After food, we sang “Happy Birthday” and sat in front of a large flat-screen TV, which no one watched. There was school gossip, plus talk about the upcoming Halloween party. That made me think about the Weird History Club and going after the Penda Boy.

  During a lull in the chatter, I said, “Hey, do any of you guys know what happened to that Austin kid? You know, because he was gone, I got into Penda.”

  Instantly, the mood in the room changed. The kids became quiet, uneasy, eyeing one another.

  It was Mia—Lilly’s best friend—who said, “We were told not to talk about it.”

  “Who told you?”

  Joel said, “Batalie and Foxton.”

  Wanting to find out how much they knew about Austin, I said, “But if all of you know what happened, that means I’m the only one here who doesn’t.”

  Lilly said, “True.”

  They were stealing nervous glances at one another.

  I said, “He disappeared, right?”

  “Disappeared?” cried Patrick. “Who told you that?”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “No way.”

  Puzzled, I said, “Then . . . what happened?”

  The kids kept glancing at one another.

  It was Lilly who said, “Why can’t Tony know? We know. It’s not like we’re in school.”

  They squirmed. I waited impatiently.

  “Well,” began Lilly. “Austin had—”

  “Oh my God . . . ,” whispered Mia. “Don’t.”

  “Tell me,” I pushed.

  They were silent a while longer until Lilly said, “I think Tony should know.”

  The other kids sat there, looking uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” said Lilly. “I’m telling.”

  “Austin had a younger brother,” Lilly began. “And, you know, older brother, younger brother. Close. Anyway, I don’t know what happened, but the kid got sick. Not sure with what. Something nasty.”

  “Thing is,” said Mia softly, “the boy . . . died.”

 

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