Frisbee Read online

FORTY-ONE

  Steve gave the knob a quick series of jiggles. He had breeched the padlock but our access had still been denied. “Crap. I didn’t even think that the doorknob would be locked inside too.” He shook his head in frustration.

  “Oh, well,” I said. “Looks like we’ll just have to try some other time.”

  I began to turn, hoping everyone would follow. I hadn’t really wanted to explore that spooky house in the first place but the others were determined to get inside.

  Cory, his mouth twisted into a devilish smirk, said, “Screw it. Let’s kick the door down.” He proceeded to give it a succession of flat-footed kicks but by the fourth one Steve had placed a hand on his chest to get him to stop.

  “Knock it off,” Steve commanded. “You’re making too much noise.

  Cory took in our surroundings and looked back at Steve. “There isn’t any one around,” he protested.

  “Yeah, but what if someone happens to walk by, huh? Ever think of that?”

  There was a path that ran about thirty feet from the house that we all used when walking to school. Steve was right. If someone happened to be strolling it, they would hear us.

  “Besides,” he added. “I think I might know another way in.

  Great.

  He led us around to the east side of the house where the attached garage was, Frisbee stayed close to my side the whole time and for that I was grateful. I think he may have sensed my apprehension about our home invasion.

  When we reached the far side of the garage, Steve, hollered, “Check it out. Right here.”

  He had stopped and was pointing to the bottom of the stucco covered wall. Weeds and trash lay scattered about on the ground and I thought he might be pointing to something lying among the rubbish, possibly some kind of tool he was planning to use to pry one of the sheets of plywood from its window.

  But no such tool lay there. He had found an entrance to the house and I realized it when I truly saw where he was pointing. At the bottom of the wall was a rectangular hole that measured about eight inches by twelve inches. These were standard in most garages and were used to help ventilate exhaust fumes and other chemical vapors that could build up. Most times they had some sort of mesh screen that covered them to keep out pest. This one either never had one or it had been kicked in by vandals long ago. It was a gaping hole with darkness beyond.

  “You know where that hole goes to?” Steve asked us.

  We all thought and it was Jason who came up with the winning answer.

  “To the garage?”

  “Right,” Steve said, pointing at him like a game show host.

  “Okay,” Jason asked, “but what good is that going to do us? I thought we wanted to get into the house, not the garage.”

  “Yeah, we will. Because if it’s like our houses, then there will be another door in the garage that leads inside. You see?”

  I bent down and began petting Frisbee, shooing away a persistent gnat.

  Jason, said, “Even so, none of us is small enough to fit through there. I’m too big. So are you and Cory.”

  I scratched Frisbee under his chin and under his chest and then ran my hand down his back, sending dust adrift on the warm breeze. Everything had gotten quiet all of the sudden and I had the distinct feeling I was being stared at. Looking over my shoulder I found the other boys glaring down at me, smiling.

  Confused, I asked, “What?” Then I realized what they had concocting. “Oh, no. Come on, guys. No way!”

  “You’re the only one that will fit through the hole, Jason explained. “You won’t get stuck.”

  It wasn’t getting stuck that had me worried. It was the part about being alone, inside with the ghosts that I didn’t like. I hadn’t really been looking forward to going inside the house with the guys in the first place, now they wanted me to go in solo.

  “No way. Forget it,” I protested. I gave Frisbee one more scratch on his muzzle and stood up and crossed my arms.

  Coming over to me, Steve put his arm around my shoulder. And although the five of us were alone by the house, he leaned in close, as if we might be overheard, his long hair tickled as it brushed my neck.

  “Come on, Ricky. Help us out, huh?” He pleaded.

  “I’m not going in there alone,” I told him.

  “Why not? What’s the big deal?”

  I kept quiet for a moment, embarrassed to tell them the truth, but finally relented. I was glad he was close and I whispered so only he could hear. “The ghosts. They’ll get me.”

  With a sigh, he said, “There’s no such things as ghosts.”

  Jason and Cory looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Thanks for being so discreet, Steve.

  “Ghosts,” Cory chuckled.

  “Besides,” I added, “it’s dark in there. What if I trip and break my leg?”

  Steve only smiled, shook his head. From his right front pocket he produced a Zippo lighter. In one fluid motion he flipped open the top with his thumb and rolled it down over the wheel to set it alight. “You can use this.”

  He flipped the lid shut with a clack, extinguishing the flame, and handed it to me. I turned it over in my hand, feeling its weight. On one side there was an inscription: Jacob Hanel.

  “This is your brother’s,” I said.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I swiped it from his dresser this morning. I thought we might need it up here.”

  I stared at the lighter long and hard as the others stared at me. Frisbee stared out into the vast golden field behind the house, as if longing or waiting for something there. Birds lilted about.

  “Come on, Ricky. Go through and unlock the front door for us,” Steve begged.

  Jason walked over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Do it for us, huh. We won’t let anything happen to you, little brother. Will we guys?”

  They all agreed that they would not and finally, I relented.

  “Alright. I’ll go. But Frisbee goes in with me. He’s small enough to fit.”

  Now they looked at one another, smiling. They had gotten me to agree to go inside, scared as I was. But we were bros and we did stuff like that for one another. And with Frisbee by my side, I knew I’d be safe.

  “Okay,” Steve said. “Take him with you if you want.”

  “Yeah. He’ll protect you from the ghosts,” Cory added.

  “Shut up, Cory,” Jason told him with a soft backhand to the chest.

  I got on all fours, low to the ground like Frisbee. I put my legs through first and slid back a little on my belly. I had to suck in my gut a bit to get my stomach through and when I inhaled it felt as if the hole had closed around my chest. I felt a slight wave of claustrophobia as I lay half in and half out of the garage.

  “I think I’m stuck,” I said, panicked.

  “Relax,” Steve told me. “Just let all the air out of your lungs when I say, okay?”

  I nodded as best I could. A picture formed in my head of a decrepit corpse loping around in the darkness behind me, grabbing my legs and pulling me to my death.

  “I don’t think I want to do this,” I whined.

  “You’ll be fine,” Steve assured me. “Now, when I say, let all the air out, alright?”

  Again, I nodded. Steve placed both of his hands on my head. “One-Two-Three-Now.”

  I let my breath go and he shoved me the rest of the way through with neck popping force. I hit my chin on the mud seal but not hard enough to break any skin.

  Once inside, I quickly got up and looked around but all was dark. The small hole I had gone through provided my only light. Soon enough, Frisbee had his head through.

  “Come on, boy,” I encouraged. “You can do it.”

  He gave a yelp and pushed his way in, going sideways at his torso. Once he was by my side I grabbed his neck and hugged him.

  “Alright,” I said to the guys outside. “Hand me the lighter.” I stuck my arm through the vent hole until I felt the cool metal in my hand. When I brought it through I thumbed the
igniter wheel and sparks shot out, lighting the garage momentarily like a camera flash, but no flame grew.

  Oh, please don’t be out of fluid, I thought. Steve had just lit it outside. It couldn’t be dry yet.

  Once more I rolled the wheel and this time the flame caught. The darkness retreated and light crept in. It had smelled a little stale and rancid when I first popped through and I discovered the source of the stench in the light. On the ground, three feet away, Frisbee was sniffing at what appeared to be tiny pink alien bodies. Upon closer inspection I saw that they were actually baby birds lying there on the cold cement. There were four of them and each had big, milky gray eyes and their beaks were all open, stuck in an eternal chirp.

  They were dead.

  From above them, in the rafters, a mud nest had been built close to the beams. A swallow poked its small, dark head out, turning it form side to side, studying Frisbee and me. I wondered why she had kicked her babies out of her nest. Could she not feed them? Was there not enough room in her little mud home? Had she just stopped loving them?

  “You okay in there?”

  I looked down to see Jason at the vent, a cast of concern plastered to his face.

  “Yeah,” I said dryly.

  “Well then go see if you can get inside to unlock the front door.”

  Slowly I turned form the mother bird and carefully walked to the garage door, trying to keep the Zippo lit, trying to keep my fingers form getting burnt. Looking back to make sure that Frisbee was following me, I noticed his eyes once more. Only now they were more magnificent than ever. Out in the sunlight they had looked like gold coins. In here, by the Zippo’s flame, they glowed; two glowing orbs above his nose that seemed to blaze with a fire of their own. I could have stayed there for hours looking into them. All my fear had vanished.

  But I knew the guys were waiting on me and reluctantly I turned back to the task at hand. Stepping in front of the door I grabbed the knob knowing it too would be locked. Instead, to my surprise, it turned easily and as if it had been oiled recently, swung toward me without a sound.

  More darkness lay beyond.

  I crossed the threshold, dog at my heels, flame held high. Directly in front of me was a kitchen that looked as if it hadn’t seen food in decades. To the right of that was a hallway that seemed to lead off into eternity. All the carpet and pad had been torn out but old, crumbling tack strip lined the wooden floor near the base boards. To the right of the hallway were a living room and a foyer. The front door was located in the latter.

  I moved a little more aptly now and the flame threatened to go out. The lighter grew hot in my hand as I reached for the doorknob. There was a simple finger turn on this side and I twisted and unlocked it. I flipped the Zippo closed before it had a chance to scald me, turned the knob, but like before, the door still wouldn’t budge.