The floor creaks with every step I take. Creeeak. Creeeak. Creeeak. Finally, we reach the library. Turning off our flash lights, we sit down on the benches. James and Adam turn on the Spector-Detectors as Caleb starts the voice recorder. My hands shake as I turn on the video camera, but the shakings nothing compared to when Elliot whispers into the dark, “Mr. Dominguez, if you’re here give us a sign.”
I don’t even know what I’m doing here! Why on earth should I be able to handle seeing a real live, I mean dead, ghost when I can’t even watch Casper the Friendly Ghost without hyperventilating?! When we first heard about Mr. Dominguez, I don’t think any of us really believed us, not until a couple of days ago.
* * *
Adam was walking down the 8th grade hallway when I stopped him to ask about the Geometry homework. Right as I started scrawling it down on my hand the lights went out. They came back on in a second but not before we saw the ghostly figure of a tall man in a navy blue suit smoking a cigar walk through a classroom, you read that right THROUGH, and into the teachers’ lounge. Being the fearlessly brave souls that we were, Adam and I took off sprinting the second the lights came back on at a speed that would have made any track coach proud. Once we got to Coach Cowdrey’s room (He’s in charge of our science club and the guys and I hang out there after school.) Adam told him what had just happened while I tried to keep my lunch down.
“We’ve have to spend the night here so we can prove that Mr. Dominguez really does exist!” exclaimed Elliot, his face full of excitement at the thought of a whole night in a haunted school. I frantically shook my head praying that the others would realize what a stupid idea that was. They didn’t. Next I knew I was sitting in the school’s gym at nine-o-clock on a Friday night watching the guys check batteries for flashlights and something called a Spector-Detector. Great. An entire night as the only girl with five certifiably insane guys hunting for departed souls. Yippee.
* * *
And that’s how we got here. We sat there in the library, supposedly Mr. Dominguez’s favorite place, waiting for something, anything to happen. For what seemed like centuries, we sat rigid with anticipation until Caleb said, “Mr. Dominguez, why don’t you show yourself? Why won’t you give us a sign? Maybe you’re not as good a ghost as everyone says you are. Maybe-”
We all knew he had gone too far. We all knew something bad was going to happen because Caleb had insulted Mr. Dominguez and now he was going to kill us and it was all going to be over and we were all going to die and we were going to become ghosts of the school all because of Caleb! Then… Everything went cold…
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
“It’s coming from the stairs!” breathed James, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. I turned to look at Caleb who was sheet-white with eyes the size of basketballs. I’d hate to be in his shoes after having said all those things to Mr. Dominguez.
Thunk. Thunk! THUNK!
The footsteps grew louder and louder but still we sat staring at the door. Then, they stopped. Nobody moved. We were still waiting for whatever hideous apparition lurking behind the door to appear. Creeeeeeeeeeak! The door opened and through it stepped the figure of a man! Somebody screamed and soon everyone was shrieking at pitches none of the guys would be proud of. Elliot and James leapt from their seats screaming something that sounded like “for Narnia” and, using their Nerf guns, furiously shot at the silhouette.
“Guys, guys! Knock it off! It’s me” came the familiarly gruff voice of … Coach Cowdrey?!
“Adam, turn on the lights,” I called, squinting at the figure my eyes still refused to trust. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, it was easy to tell that our “murderous, bloodthirsty spirit” was really just our teacher.
“What ARE you guys doing in here? I told you guys to be back in the gym an hour ago! And drop the Nerf gun Sparky-Ding!” growled Coach Cowdrey at Elliot until he reluctantly lowered his weapon. Still rubbing his forehead where he had been bombarded so maliciously with foam darts, Coach stared at us with a look of mingled irritation and amusement. Mostly irritation.
“WellwethoughtyouwereMr.DominguezcomingtostealoursoulsbecauseCalebsaidyouwerealameghost,” I said in a rush, still on edge from our little scare. With a look that was clearly questioning Caleb’s sanity, Coach led us back to the gym. After a leisurely stroll through ghost-infested hallways full of incriminating shadows, we arrived at the gym, packed up our things, and went outside to sit on the curb to wait for our parents.
“Man too bad we didn’t see something,” muttered Adam stealing James’s Rubik’s Cube and solving it in a minute or two.
“Yeah the whole thing was just a waste of time,” yawned Elliot, leaning his back up against the chain-link fence.
“Maybe another time,” I said sitting down on the cold graffitied sidewalk. I gazed up at the stars thinking about how I was going to tell my friends about this on Monday. I tell of the excitement! The adrenaline! The suspense! The-
“Holy crap.” I looked over at Caleb who was pointing with a shaking finger up at the roof. The four of us whipped around just in time to see, standing on the roof, a man … a man in a blue suit … a man who had been dead for at least thirteen years … a man named Mr. Dominguez!