By the time I arrived at school the next day, my victory over the McThuggs had spread far and wide. The bus was abuzz with it. We were, of course, silent around Mrs. Lutzkraut, but at art, with Mr. Borus, the stories began again. Mr. Borus himself told of a time the McThuggs had circled his minivan and had threatened him for twelve blocks.
By the next day, the tale had grown to the point that Mr. Feebletop himself mentioned it in the morning announcements. He talked about famous heroes and bravery and then related it by saying: “We here at Baber are fortunate enough to have seen bravery in action. Someone in this town finally stood up to a group that’s menaced our town for years. Well done, Rodney! Now rise for the pledge.”
As we made the familiar speech with our hands on our hearts, Mrs. Lutzkraut sneered at me. When we sat down she said, “I don’t think there’s anything brave about doing something as stupid as you did. First off, you were trespassing. Secondly, other children will now approach strangers. You can join me for recess and write an essay explaining why your actions were wrong. I’ll talk to Mr. Feebletop about letting you read it over the loudspeaker tomorrow.”
Rishi interjected, “Mrs. Lutzkraut, Rodney was . . .”
“Rishi! Save your energy for math! Boys and girls, take out your textbooks, notebooks, and put a heading . . .” I looked around. Rishi was angrily taking out a book. Jessica was busy writing something. Unfortunately, she wasn’t busy looking at me, which was strange, since she had been there when I supposedly had throttled the McThuggs. I worried that maybe Kayla had begun to poison her mind against me. And as for Toby, he hadn’t said a word since I climbed the fence. Sitting next to me, he looked pale and sick and was clearly avoiding eye contact. In all the excitement, I hadn’t given him much thought. But I had seen that smile he had given Josh as I walked to my fate. Toby was out to get me.
“Rodney!”
“Yes, Mrs. Lutzkraut?” I choked.
“What is the answer to number five?”
Apparently we were checking the math homework. “Um, forty-two,” I guessed.
She smiled. For a second I thought I had it right. Then she continued, “No! You’re not even remotely close. I suppose the famous McThuggs ate your homework while they chased you down the . . .”
“Actually, I chased them,” I corrected her.
“Silence! The day’s just started and I’ve already had enough of you.” She stared at me long and hard before moving on to the next question.
Halloween, my least-favorite holiday, was fast approaching. Yes, I like the candy, but there are many other things about it that don’t quite work for a scaredy-cat like me. First off, I hate the dressing up part. I don’t mind seeing Superman or a few fairy princess costumes but I can definitely do without the Draculas and Freddy Kruegers.
Last year, Rocco Ronboni cornered me along with his posse as I walked the streets of my old neighborhood with Timmy, Tony, and Tommy. He yelled, “Fire!” and blasted me in the face with shaving cream. “Hey Rathbone, how does that feel?” He laughed. I recalled my eyes beginning to burn. “Hey, check it out, guys,” he had continued. “This shaving cream contains menthol. Avoid contact with the eyes. Whoops!” I remembered their laughs as I stumbled blindly along Bell Boulevard. Well, at least he was far away now. Maybe, with Josh and Toby leaving me alone, I’d coast through Halloween this year with no problems.
I would soon discover, however, that in Garrettsville, Halloween isn’t easily avoided. The kids began talking about costumes and candy even before September came to a close. Some of them started collecting secret stashes of shaving cream or Silly String. I made a mental note to get a costume with protective eyewear. Stories of eggs flying and paintballs shooting were quietly discussed in the back of the bus. But I didn’t learn of the town’s main horror until one afternoon in mid-October.
I finished my homework, grabbed my football, and walked out the door. Rishi and Slim were waiting for me on their bikes. They looked kind of nervous or something. “We’re going for a bike ride before we play football,” Rishi explained.
“Uh, okay, sounds nice,” I replied. Slim giggled nervously.
“Get your wheels and we’ll get Dave,” Rishi yelled as he rode off. “Meet us at the end of the block.”
It was a nice autumn day. A ride seemed like a good idea, but Rishi and Slim were acting a bit off, and my chicken sense was tingling. I noticed my palms sweating as I pulled my bike from the garage.
When we all linked up, the three of them were even stranger. Dave muttered a quiet, “Hey Rodney,” and we were off, winding down streets and cutting through paths. We passed Crystal Lake and, as we made a right onto Elm Street, the pace slowed. Somehow, the street felt darker. The houses looked bleak and run-down. The grass wasn’t as green and there were no people walking around. Then, in the distance, I could see a house that made my stomach gurgle, and I wished there was a bathroom nearby. Somehow I knew it was where we were going, and anger and panic swept through me. “Why are you bringing me here?” I asked in the steadiest voice I could manage.
“You’ll see, Rodney. Just a little closer,” Rishi answered.
The house was menacing. It was boarded up and decrepit. The paint was peeling and dirty. It must have been white years ago, but now it was grayish brown. The green roof was missing tiles and was full of holes. The porch looked sinister and the railing was missing spindles. Two old lions, chipped and dirty, sat at either side of the walkway like they were guarding the place.
I had trouble swallowing. My hands quivered and I hoped no one was looking at me. We rode up to the curb and the four of us stood looking at the den of evil. “It’s Old Man Johnson’s house,” Rishi said. “He murdered his whole family.”
“I heard the house is possessed,” Slim said. I fully believed him. It seemed to be looking down at me, with the top two windows like eyes and the downstairs windows forming an eerie grin.
“I thought we lived in Garrettsville, not Amityville,” I muttered. They looked at me, slightly confused, but their attention returned to the house as an old swing out back screeched in the light breeze and a shutter banged against the siding. I no longer cared about my tough guy reputation. Rishi beat me to it and yelled, “Let’s get out of here!” We all tore behind him, and it wasn’t until we were safely at our football field near the vacant elementary school that we stopped pedaling. The McThugg brothers, by the way, hadn’t bothered us since the wasp incident. Evidently, they thought I had brought the yellow-jacket bees with me that day as a warning from the Ratfields.
“So,” Rishi turned to us breathing hard, “who’s going to do it this year?” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I knew I didn’t like whatever “it” was. I tossed the football onto the grass and got off my bike.
“What’s the deal?” I asked. “What’s this ‘it’ you’re talking about?”
Rishi looked me in the eyes and said, “Rodney, that’s where we’re going on Halloween night.” I figured I’d correct him on that one. He might be going there but I wasn’t going anywhere near the place.
“I won’t be able to join you, I have . . .”
Slim interrupted me. “Rodney, you got to go. Every year something scary and exciting happens at Old Man Johnson’s house. You can’t miss it.”
“Have you gone?”
“Well no, but my older brother Charlie said it’s the thing to do in Garrettsville. And besides, he wouldn’t let us go last year, but now he’ll let us go because he wants to meet you. He says they’re all talking about you in high school and what you did to the McThuggs.”
Talking about me in high school? What was next, my own show on the Disney Channel?
Rishi jumped in. “Look, Rodney, none of us have ever gone, but now that you’re with us, we’ll be all right. Besides, every year someone tries to get close to the house and do something crazy. . . .”
“Yeah, and you’re just the guy,” Dave added, but I cut him off. Crazy wasn’t my idea of a great Halloween.
“That’s nice, you go be crazy, but my mom makes me take my sister out, so I probably won’t be able to go with you. Too bad, though. It sounds exciting.”
“Don’t worry,” Rishi said, as he put a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll wait for you to finish. This is something I know that someone as tough as you, someone who lives for danger, would not want to miss.”
Oh man! I didn’t know what to say to get out of it. “Uh, okay,” I mumbled, and then, trying to get back to nicer things, I asked, “Still time for football today?”
We all thought about it but it was already getting late, so we said good-bye and rode off. It wasn’t until I was on my street that I remembered the football. I had left it in the field by the school. The sky was dark orange, and night was coming on, so I raced back as fast as I could.
By the time I got to the school it was almost dark out and the chilly air smelled like leaves. No one was around and I found myself alone on the empty field with the abandoned building sitting quietly in the distance. The place sure was creepy. Something seemed to move in the shadows by the building. As I reached for the football I thought I saw a guy with a hockey mask peering down at me from one of the upper windows. With my imagination running wild, it wasn’t long before my feet did too, and I pedaled home full speed. If I couldn’t even be alone on a field for five seconds, what would happen to me on Halloween?
That night I slept with the light on, thinking of escape plans and hoping Old Man Johnson was safely behind bars—not lurking behind the walls of his house.