مدرسه روح زده فصل 05

The haunted School - Chapter 5

“Huh?” I let out a loud gasp.

“What are you doing in here, young man?” the voice repeated.

Blinking hard, I whirled around.

And saw Mrs. Borden, the principal, standing in the open doorway.

“You—you’re not a statue!” I blurted out.

She moved quickly into the room, holding a clipboard against the front of her sweater. “No, I’m not,” she replied without smiling.

She glanced down at the two paint cans on the floor. Then she stepped up beside me, her eyes studying me.

Mrs. Borden is very short. She is only an inch or two taller than me. And she’s kind of chubby. She has curly black hair and a round, pink face. She always seems to be blushing.

Some kids told me that she’s really nice. I met her only for a moment when I showed up at Bell Valley my first morning.

That morning, she was all upset about a pack of dogs that were swarming over the playground and frightening the little kids. She didn’t have time to talk to me.

Now she stood so close to me, I could smell the peppermint on her breath. “Tommy, I think you must be lost,” she said softly.

I nodded. “Yeah. I guess,” I murmured.

“Where are you supposed to be?” she asked, still clutching the clipboard to her chest.

“The gym,” I replied.

She finally smiled. “You’re a long way from the gym. This is the entrance to the old building. The gym is in the new building, way on the other side.” She gestured with the clipboard.

“I took the wrong stairs,” I explained. “I was coming from the art room, and—”

“Oh, right. You’re on the Dance Decorations Committee,” she interrupted. “Well, let me show you how to get back downstairs.” I turned to the statues. They all stood so still, so silently. They seemed to be eavesdropping on Mrs. Borden and me.

“What is this room?” I asked.

She put a hand on my shoulder and started to move me toward the door. “It’s a private room,” she said softly.

“But what is it?” I repeated. “I mean—these statues. Who are these kids? Are they real kids or something?” She didn’t reply. Her hand tightened on my shoulder as she guided me to the door.

I stopped to pick up the paint cans. When I glanced back at Mrs. Borden, her expression had changed.

“This is a very sad room, Tommy,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “These kids were the very first class in the school.” “The class of nineteen forty-seven?” I asked, glancing at the sign.

The principal nodded. “Yes. Just about fifty years ago. There were twenty-five kids in the school. And one day… one day, they all disappeared.” “Huh?” Startled by her words, I dropped the paint cans to the floor.

“They vanished, Tommy,” Mrs. Borden continued, turning her gaze to the statues. “Vanished into thin air. One minute they were here in school. The next minute, they were gone… forever. Never seen again.” “But—but—” I sputtered. I didn’t know what to say. How could twenty-five kids vanish?

Mrs. Borden sighed. “It was a terrible tragedy,” she said softly. “A terrible mystery. The parents… the poor parents…” Her voice caught in her throat. She took a deep breath. “They were so heartbroken. The parents had the school boarded up. Closed forever. The town built a new school around it. The old building has stood empty ever since that horrible day.” “And these statues?” I asked.

“A local artist made them,” Mrs. Borden replied. “He used a class photo. A photo of everyone. The artist used the photo to make these statues. A tribute to the missing children.” I stared at the roomful of statues. Kids. Vanished kids.

“Weird,” I muttered.

I picked up the paint cans. Mrs. Borden opened the door.

“I—I didn’t mean to come in here,” I apologized. “I didn’t know…”

“No problem,” she replied. “This building is very big and very confusing.”

I led the way out to the hall. She closed the door carefully behind us. “Follow me,” she said. The heels of her shoes clicked loudly on the hard floor as she walked, swinging the clipboard at her side.

She walked really fast for a tiny person. Holding a paint can in each hand, I had to struggle to keep up with her.

“How are you getting along, Tommy?” she asked. “Aside from getting lost, I mean.”

“Fine,” I said. “Everyone’s been really great.”

We turned a corner. I had to jog to catch up to her. We turned another corner. Into a brighter hallway. The tile walls were a bright yellow. The linoleum floor gleamed.

“This is where you meant to go,” Mrs. Borden announced. “And there is the stairway down to the gym.” She pointed the way, then smiled at me.

I thanked her and hurried off.

I couldn’t wait to get back to the gym. I hoped Thalia and Ben weren’t angry about how long it took me. I was really eager to ask them about the class of 1947. I wanted to hear what they knew about all those missing kids.

Holding the cans of red paint, I made my way down the two flights of stairs to the basement. It all looked familiar now.

I ran past the lunchroom to the double gym doors at the end of the hall. Pushed open the doors with my shoulder. And burst into the gym.

“Hey—I’m back!” I called. “I—”

The words caught in my throat. Thalia and Ben were sprawled facedown on the gym floor.