Stage Fright, page 6
“Why is the ghost so mad, anyway?” Jaylen asked. “We didn’t do anything to it.”
“Maybe because we interrupted its rest,” Paige said, wrapping her arms around her body as if to give herself a comforting hug.
While Tyler prowled the floorboards, holding his phone above his head to try to get service, Avery assessed the stage. Where their séance circle had been, the beach towel was a crumpled heap, the candles toppled over and scattered. Jaylen’s backpack had somehow ended up hanging at the precipice of the grave, on the verge of tumbling into the hole. She zeroed in on a damaged spot on the yellow extension cord, a few feet away from the base of the ghost light. The cord’s bright plastic covering had been gnawed away, exposing the interior wires. Avery couldn’t help imagining the light fizzling out, the ghost charging, its awful mouth stretching wide…
She turned to alert her friends about the mangled cord, then pressed her lips together. No use reminding Jaylen about the rats. He’d get too worked up.
“Guys.” Tyler had stopped roaming and was fixated on the floor behind the middle tombstone.
“What?” In three strides, Jaylen stepped next to him. He sucked in a breath. “What the…?”
Avery and Paige shared an uneasy glance. Together, they tentatively circled the grave.
At the base of the tombstone lay a human skull.
Paige gasped. “Seriously?”
Avery shuddered. Brown splotches stained the skull, a nasty crack spread above its left eye socket, and its teeth were jagged and crooked. It taunted them with a hollow sneer.
“That thing is real,” Jaylen said.
“How do you know?” Tyler challenged. “Have you ever seen a real skull?”
“No, but I’ve seen fake ones, and this sure doesn’t look fake.” Jaylen jabbed it with the toe of his sneaker. The skull toppled onto its side.
“Don’t touch it!” Avery said.
“Why would they have a real skull here?” Tyler rolled his eyes.
“How would I know that?” Jaylen scowled. “Ask your mom.”
They were picking on each other again. Avery couldn’t stand it. “Hey, the theater is a concrete box,” she announced. “Of course we don’t get reception. Let’s get out of here and try the lobby.”
“Solid plan,” Tyler said.
“But what if the ghost is out there?” Paige whispered. “She wants us gone.”
Jaylen tipped his head back. “Hey, Maddie!” he called to the rafters. “We are trying to leave, okay? So give us a break.”
“Don’t bother her again!” Paige’s eyes were huge.
“What?” Jaylen said. “She needs to know we’re doing our best to get out of here, like she wants us to.”
“She doesn’t seem very reasonable,” Tyler muttered.
Avery felt dizzy. If they ventured into the lobby, they’d be away from the safety of the ghost light. But they had no other choice. “Okay. Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” Jaylen said, full of bravado. He swiped his backpack from the edge of the grave and strolled downstage. Tyler sniffed with disapproval.
Avery stuffed the beach towel and the two candles she could find in her own backpack. In one front corner of the stage, a narrow set of risers led to the auditorium floor. As she descended, the wood creaked and shifted unsteadily. She braced her hand on the plaster wall next to her. The last thing she wanted to do was fall into the deep orchestra pit on the other side. Then she’d crack her head on the upright piano or bash into the jumble of folding chairs and music stands, she was sure of it. She was thrilled to reach the auditorium’s sticky concrete floor.
The four of them crept along the upward sloping side aisle, each shining their own light around the space. They passed row after row of red velvet upholstered seats, some ripped open, gray stuffing bulging like blisters. Avery’s sneakers crunched on broken bits of white plaster. Swinging her light to the ceiling, she glimpsed several chunks missing.
Great, she thought. The roof could cave in.
“Check out these paintings.” Tyler pointed at the side wall. Old-fashioned frescos depicted prairie landscapes, river bluffs, and wild horses running free.
Avery did a double take and squinted at the horses. All of their eyes were eerily white, as if rolled back into their heads in terror.
In the beam of their phone lights, dust motes speckled the air like tiny snowflakes.
“I feel like I’m on one of those ghost hunter shows.” Paige giggled uncomfortably. “If an orb comes at us, I’m really going to lose it.”
A bead of sweat trickled down Avery’s back. “What’s an orb?”
“Like, a glowing, floating ball of spiritual presence,” Jaylen explained.
A new thing to worry about. Avery bit her lip.
Above the main floor, there was a balcony with a half-dozen rows of seats. As they passed under it, the atmosphere grew stuffier and Avery’s breaths shallower. Was it even safe to breathe ten-year-old air? Although it wasn’t like she had a choice.
The back of her neck prickled with the feeling of being watched. She twirled around.
To her surprise, the arch above the stage featured carved cherubs and even a smirking gargoyle or two, a head broken off here, half a foot missing there. The ghost light kept watch, its illumination touching the tombstones and shovel but not reaching into the deep shadows of the wings. Just visible behind the center tombstone, the skull lay motionless on its side. Its sightless black eye sockets drilled a hole through Avery.
She shuddered and scurried to rejoin her friends. They’d reached a set of double doors in the rear wall of the auditorium.
“Okay, let’s go.” Tyler pushed down the bar across the right door. It broke away from the left door with a sticky snap and squealed open. Avery aimed her cell light past his shoulder.
Paige screamed.
Floating in front of them was a glowing skull.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“No!” Tyler jumped back, crunching Avery’s foot. The lobby door swung free and smashed into her elbow.
“We have to go back!” Paige squeaked.
“Wait.” Avery shoved the door wider with her aching funny bone and aimed her light at the skull. “It’s fine.”
Her beam illuminated a black poster board leaning on an easel. At the top, red letters spelled out:
The Midnight Players present
Hamlet
A play by William Shakespeare
Below was a lifelike illustration of a skull.
Jaylen snickered. “Big man, Tyler.”
“Like you weren’t just as scared as me,” Tyler retorted.
Paige clapped her hand to her forehead. “Guys, stop!”
“This explains the graveyard,” Avery said. “I should’ve known. My mom teaches a class on Shakespeare. She made me watch a Hamlet movie once.”
“You?” Jaylen joked. “Watched a movie with graves and skulls?”
“There’s a ghost, too. And murder.” Avery had pretended to pay attention but secretly just messed around on her phone. Mom had busted her and hadn’t been happy. “Yeah, it wasn’t my favorite story.”
They ventured into the two-story lobby. Red-and-black patterned carpet covered the floor. Several low leather benches lined the walls. A broom leaned against a display case that held theater memorabilia—past play programs, shellacked newspaper clips, even an arrangement of old props. Directly ahead, glass double doors reflected the bright circles of their roaming cell lights, but plywood on the other side blocked any view of the outside world. High above, a series of windows were also boarded up, though cracks in the wood allowed moonlight to seep through.
“Does anybody have reception?” Tyler asked.
They each checked their screens and shook their heads.
“Can we turn on some lights?” Paige asked.
“Here.” Jaylen reached next to the door they’d come through a moment before and flipped a row of switches. Nothing happened.
“Okay, there has to be electricity,” Paige said, balling her hands into fists. “The ghost light works.”
“I still say phones are our last resort.” Jaylen strutted to the glass doors and rattled them. They didn’t open. “Let’s break the glass, then kick out the boards.”
“Um, how?” Avery pictured glass flying. She glanced at Paige, who freaked out at the smallest paper cut and hated blood. By the petrified expression on Paige’s face, Avery knew she was thinking the same thing. “We do not want to get cut.”
“Then get out of the way.” Jaylen swaggered to a bench and shrugged off his backpack. “Tyler, help me ram the doors.”
“This is dumb,” Tyler said. “It’s probably shatterproof glass.”
“So we shouldn’t even try? Do you want to get out of here, or what?” Jaylen lifted one end of the bench and positioned it perpendicular to the doors.
“Fine.” Tyler got on the opposite side from Jaylen, and together, they picked up the bench. Avery and Paige scooted out of the way.
Jaylen nodded. “One. Two. Three.”
They clumsily took off toward the door and struck the glass. The door shook but held fast, the bench bouncing back and throwing them off balance. They dropped the bench.
“I told you that wasn’t going to work,” Tyler huffed.
In one swift motion, Jaylen raised his leg and slammed the bottom of his sneaker into the glass.
“Jaylen!” Paige shouted.
Again, the door held.
Jaylen hopped backward on his other leg and cradled his foot. “I had to try.”
Avery stepped closer to the door and examined it. “Um, there’s a keyhole. Let’s try to find the key.” She shone her light at one end of the lobby, where it landed on a half door, the top open and the bottom closed. A sign above read Coat Check. Metal hangers gleamed in the darkness beyond. She swung her light to the opposite end of the lobby. There, an open window yawned above a short counter displaying a Tickets placard. Next to it, a hallway led into even more darkness. “Any ideas?”
No one made a move. Tyler opened his mouth, as if he had something to say, then snapped it closed. Jaylen picked up his backpack, avoiding Avery’s eyes. His confidence had clearly taken a hit after his failure to break down the door. Paige’s lips pressed together in a thin, tense line. Now that the stakes were higher and physical danger threated them, her enthusiasm for adventure had evaporated.
“Well, this is silly,” Avery blurted, surprising herself by taking charge. “There’s probably an office. That would be where I would keep a key.”
She marched toward the hall, passing a fallen poster board featuring a dozen black-and-white actor photos, names printed below their chins. Her friends trailed behind her.
In the hall, an open doorway led to a large room with filing cabinets and a couple metal desks. A small flicker of accomplishment warmed Avery from inside. She’d found the office. “Let’s find that key.”
Like the stage and despite the dust, the office seemed ready and waiting for people to clock in and pick up their work where they left off. The desk closest to the door held stacks of papers and a vase of flowers so dead, a weak breeze could turn them into dust. A plastic trash can lay on its side, garbage spilling out next to a small refrigerator. A calendar from ten years prior hung on the wall under a clock with both hands pointing straight up.
Stuck at midnight, of course. The witching hour. Avery battled a rising sense of dread.
Jaylen flipped the light switch. “Of course it doesn’t work,” he moaned.
“Why is it like this?” Paige asked. “Like, nobody emptied out this place anywhere. They just…left.”
“I think there’s still a lawsuit or something from Maddie’s family,” Tyler said. “So, they are leaving stuff as is? I don’t know.”
“There’s a phone.” Jaylen pointed at the far desk, where an ancient-looking cordless landline. “I guess I could call Laila to come get us. If I promise to do her chores for the next year, maybe she won’t tattle.” He forced a grin.
Tyler darted to the phone, seized the handset from its base, and lifted it to his ear. His shoulders drooped. “It’s dead.”
Dead. The word reverberated through Avery’s mind.
Jaylen was already rifling through desk drawers. Avery tackled the desktop, shuffling papers aside, peeking under a keyboard left behind without its monitor, dumping the contents from a coffee mug acting as a pencil holder. No keys. She picked up a framed picture. Two teenagers with mouths full of braces beamed at her. She hoped their teeth were straight now, ten years later.
Paige opened the small refrigerator. The brown, shriveled remains of an apple rolled out. “Ewwww.”
Jaylen banged a drawer closed. “Nothing.”
A cardboard box labeled Lost and Found rested in a corner. Avery knelt next to it and rummaged inside, finding a sweatshirt embroidered with a college logo, a broken umbrella, and a small red purse. She eagerly unzipped the purse. It contained only a pack of cigarettes. Nothing useful.
They all searched for several minutes more and came up empty-handed.
Paige lifted her heavy ponytail and fanned the nape of her neck with a notebook. “It’s really stuffy in here.”
“And it stinks.” Jaylen wrinkled his nose.
“There’s one more place to check.” Avery pushed open a door that led into the rear of the ticket booth. A long counter under the window held a couple of binders and another landline. She listlessly picked up the phone handset, not hopeful at all.
Hissing static filled her ear. She sucked in a breath. “Guys! I think this phone works!”
There was a flurry of excitement from the office. Paige and Jaylen crowded into the ticket booth. Tyler lingered in the doorway.
“Hello?” Avery said into the mouthpiece. The static increased, forcing her to move the phone away from her ear.
Paige inched closer. “Hello? We’re trapped in the Old Winter Playhouse! We need help!”
The static stuttered to a stop. They all waited breathlessly.
A droning whisper began, babbling incoherent syllables.
“Hello?” Avery said uncertainly, still holding out the phone.
“We need help!” Paige repeated.
The line crackled.
“You shouldn’t be here,” hissed a high, giggling voice.
“Wha…” Avery locked eyes with Paige, confused.
“You shouldn’t be here, but you are!” The voice snickered. “So, let’s play let’s play let’s play let’s play—”
Avery dropped the phone and it crashed onto the counter, the voice ranting on, louder and louder. Paige covered her ears and backed into Tyler as Jaylen scooped up the handset, stabbed the off button, and threw the phone to the floor.
The sudden quiet was deafening. Avery legs wobbled. Even Jaylen’s eyes were wide with horror.
“Was—was that the ghost?” Paige said.
“And…” Avery’s voice trembled. “What does that mean, it wants to play?”
The phone rang.
Without hesitation, they all dashed out of the ticket booth, through the office, and into the lobby. Behind them, the ringing abruptly cut off. Tyler, in the lead, halted and flung out his arms, blocking the others from moving.
“Wait, listen!”
“What?” Paige panted.
“Exactly!” Tyler said. “It—”
A cacophony of sounds exploded—wind chimes, a booming bass line, an old-fashioned car horn, a croaking frog. Avery panicked, until she recognized the frog croak came from her own phone. A notification was coming through. They were all getting one.
They fumbled with their phones as the racket continued without a break. Three dots pulsed in the lower left corner of Avery’s screen. “I’m getting a text!” she said.
Paige gaped at her cell. “Me too!”
“Maybe our families have figured out we’re gone,” Tyler yelled over the din.
“Yeah, but…” Jaylen examined his screen. “Mine says ‘unknown sender.’ ”
“Wait, how can we get notifications before a text comes through?” Paige was freaking.
“I don’t know.” Avery’s throat went dry. “And I still don’t have service.”
The sounds stopped, leaving an eerie hush. The dots vanished from Avery’s screen.
“Whoever it was isn’t texting anymore,” Jaylen said.
“Here, too,” Paige said, holding up her phone.
“This is good news, guys,” Tyler said, his positivity making a comeback. “Our phones aren’t completely inoperable.”
“I hate to break this to you, Tech Bro, but it’s one thirty in the morning,” Jaylen said. “Our families did not just all text us at the same time.”
Tyler’s face fell. “Okay, but…”
“And you guys,” Avery said, her stomach knotting. “My phone is on silent mode.”
“Mine, too,” Jaylen said apprehensively.
“What is happening?” Paige clamped a hand to her mouth.
Something clanged behind Avery once. Twice. Again and again.
The noise crescendoed into a deafening clatter. Avery whipped around and shone her light into the coat check. The beam glinted off the empty hangers as they danced madly on the rods, bashing together by some invisible force.
“The ghost!” Avery said.
Paige gripped her arm. “We gotta get back to the light!”
They fled into the auditorium where it had all begun.
CHAPTER NINE
The four of them tore down the aisle and up the steps to the stage, practically climbing over one another in a frenzied race to reach the ghost light. When they got there, they clung to the pole like it was their last defense, the only weapon that could save them.
