“Oh, yeah, the feather dusters!” Luke exclaimed. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Now, why in the world were you so scared of them? You didn’t
Smits fixed Luke with a curious look.
“Yes,” he said. “I did. I didn’t know what death was.” And he launched into another tale.
At first Luke only acted — pretending to listen, pretending to care. But slowly he was drawn into Smits’s hypnotic unreeling of the lives that he and Lee had once lived. It was all a foreign world to Luke. Luke had grown up on hard work and fear; life for his family had been a constant struggle. Smits and Lee had each had a miniature car they drove around the paths of their estate. Smits had once had a birthday party where an actual circus had come and performed for his thirty-five guests.
But Luke had had a mother who tucked him into bed every night, and a father who would play checkers with him on those dreary winter days when there was no farmwork to be done. Smits and Lee seemed to have had only servants.
One night, at the beginning of Smits’s fourth week of storytelling, Luke ventured to ask in the middle of a long, involved tale about a missing teddy bear, “I forget Where was Mom then?”
Smits stopped and squinted in confusion at Luke.
“I forget, too,” he said. “Probably at a party Entertaining. Like always.”
And he went on, telling in outraged terms about the nanny who’d refused to step out onto the roof to retrieve the teddy bear from the rain gutter, where Smits had thrown it.
It wasn’t long after that night that Smits said at the very end of a long session of reminiscing, “I’m sorry I know you’ve been trying to help. At least you’ve stayed awake.” He rolled his eyes toward the huge, snoring form of Oscar. Luke stifled a yawn of his own and almost missed seeing the stern set of Smits’s jaw. Smits looked like a miniature grown-up once again.
“Whatever happens,” Smits said, “you can tell people I told you: None of this is because of you. It won’t be your fault. I even… I even kind of like you.”
He sounded surprised.
CHAPTER 11
Luke stumbled back down to his own room, so drowsy that he almost considered just lying down on the stairs and going to sleep there. In the back of his mind he suspected that he needed to figure out exactly what Smits had meant. “Whatever happens… it won’t be your fault.. “ But Luke had missed so much sleep staying up with Smits. He felt like his brain was functioning amazingly well just to be able to command his feet: down the stairs, left, right, down, and down again. He knew he wouldn’t be capable of thinking about anything important until morning.
And Smits himself was probably already asleep. Whatever Smits thought was going to happen surely wouldn’t occur until morning.
Luke reached his room, fell into his bed, and was asleep almost instantly.
Loud, clanging alarms woke him only minutes later, it seemed. He opened his eyes to flashing lights and a voice booming throughout the room: “Evacuate immediately! Evacuate immediately!”
Around him his roommates were sitting up dazedly in their beds, holding their hands over their ears. The voice on the loudspeaker was so intense, Luke could barely think He saw They slip down from the bunk above. They’s lips were moving, and Luke could tell he was asking Luke a question, but Luke had no hope of hearing They over the blaring alarm. Luke gave They a confused look and held up his hands helplessly.
They leaned in close and screamed directly into Luke’s ear: “What if it’s a trick? I think we should hide.”
Luke shook his head. For the first time something else registered with his brain. He cupped his hand over They’s ear and yelled as loudly as he could: “No! I smell smoke!”
The loudspeaker voice announced, “You are in danger! The school is on fire! Evacuate immediately! Go through the secret door in your room!”
Secret door? Luke had no idea what that meant. Then suddenly a crack appeared in a blank portion of a wall Luke had never paid much attention to before. Seconds later a door sprang open in the wall, revealing a corridor with dim lights.
Luke looked suspiciously at the door. They was worried about tricks — what if the voice was directing them into danger, not away from it? Cautiously Luke stuck his head through the mysterious door. At the end of a dimly lit corridor he could see stairs leading down. Could this be the best way out? He went back to the regular door of his room and jerked on the handle: The door didn’t budge. It was locked or stuck. Either way he couldn’t open that door. If he and his friends didn’t go through the secret door, they’d be trapped.
Luke inhaled sharply He was sure now. He did smell smoke. The scent was stronger than ever.
“Come on!” Luke yelled, though no one could hear him. He began shoving boys toward the secret door. No one wanted to go. They seemed to prefer to cower in their beds. Luke had to drag Robert across the room, and even then Robert just huddled at the entrance to the secret corridor. Would Luke have to carry him down all those stairs?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mr. Dirk, their history teacher, appeared in the doorway to the secret corridor. He grabbed Robert by the arms and pulled him to his feet. Together, Luke and Mr. Dirk shepherded the boys down the steps.
At the bottom Mr. Dirk pressed on a door and it opened, revealing a clear view of the night sky. They were outdoors.
Gratefully Luke gulped in fresh air and rushed out. But around him the other boys balked.
“No!” Luke yelled. “Out!”
Joel and John and They slipped fearfully out the door, but Luke had to peel Robert’s fingers off the railing of the stairs, had to propel him inch by inch toward the outdoors.
Luke was just ready to step outside himself when Mr. Dirk said into his ear, “Now help me get the rest”.
The rest?
In a daze, Luke followed Mr. Dirk back up the stairs. From the secret corridor they entered room after room, pulling boys out of beds and from closets where they were crouched and trembling. Luke lost track of time. He lost track of how many kids he prodded and pulled. Some he even carried. After about the second room he didn’t look at faces anymore. He just knew he had to get everyone out.
Finally, finally, Luke and Mr. Dirk reached the bottom of the stairs and Mr. Dirk didn’t immediately head back up again. Luke started to — his legs seemed to move on their own.
“No, no,” Mr. Dirk said. “Everyone’s safe now. We’ve evacuated everyone on the second and third floors.”
He gently pulled Luke back from the stairs. Gratefully Luke finally stepped outside. The cool night air rushed at him. He hadn’t realized how sweaty he’d gotten; his pajamas were drenched. His muscles ached. Behind him the alarms didn’t seem so blaring, the loudspeaker voice didn’t sound so urgent. Everyone was safe now. Everyone from the second and third floor. And nobody would have been on the first floor, because nobody would have been in the classrooms in the middle of the night. As for the fourth floor…
Luke whirled around.
“Smits!” he yelled desperately.
CHAPTER 12
Luke was ready to race back up the stairs, but Mr. Dirk grabbed his arm.
“The evacuation corridor network doesn’t go up to the fourth floor,” he said. “I’m sure Smits got out by other means. He doesn’t have the same, uh, fears as the rest of you boys.~
Frantically Luke looked up, toward the top of the school. He wanted so badly to see a gaping hole made by Oscar’s precious sledgehammer. Instead, he saw only smooth brick, all the way to the roof, seemingly unmarred by
