NINE
If Robert thought he had any chance of fitting into the duct, he would have leapt right through the vent.
“This is going to be fine,” Warren insisted. “We’ll just go down to the basement and get them out.”
“Where’s the basement?” Robert asked.
Ms. Lavinia led them down the hallway to a door labeled MECHANICAL ROOM: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Robert tried the door but it was locked.
“The janitors have the key,” Karina said.
“The janitors are on strike,” Robert said. He threw his weight against the door, hitting it with his shoulder, like he’d seen action heroes do in the movies. Of course, that did nothing except hurt his shoulder. Warren grabbed his arm, trying to settle him down.
“Take it easy,” he said. “You can’t get through that way.”
Robert turned to Karina. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Can’t you just squeeze through a keyhole or something? Turn yourself into mist and roll under the door? What kind of ghost are you?”
Karina’s lower lip trembled, as though she was going to start crying. She turned abruptly and ran off down the hall. Robert threw up his hands in frustration. What was wrong with her? He was the one who had lost his pets. Not her. He felt like he was going to start crying.
“Calm down,” Ms. Lavinia said.
“You made me do this!” he shouted. “You promised they would be OK!”
“They will be OK,” she insisted. “I’ll find a way to unlock this door, but it’s not going to happen immediately.” At night, Ms. Lavinia was a prisoner inside Tillinghast Mansion, and she waited on her brother like a servant. “I’m sure Crawford has a set of keys. I’ll spend all night looking for them.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Just leave Pip and Squeak in the air duct?”
“They’re rats. They can survive a night in an air duct. Some rats live their whole lives in air ducts. They’re tough animals.”
“You don’t know them like I do,” Robert said.
It was true that Pip and Squeak could be brave when they needed to be. Once, when a giant boa constrictor had sneaked through Robert’s bedroom window, they had rushed to his defense. But just because his pets were brave didn’t mean they weren’t scared. Pip and Squeak had fears just like everyone else—and now they were trapped behind the walls of Lovecraft Middle School.
“We’ll take care of this tomorrow, I promise,” Ms. Lavinia said. “Now go home and try not to worry about it.”
That was going to be impossible. Robert didn’t see how he would eat, sleep, or do anything until he had them back. He left the school in a daze. While crossing the street, he stepped in front of an on-coming pick-up truck. The driver swerved, missing him by inches, then blasted his horn.
When Robert arrived at his house, his mother could tell he was upset. “Your hair looks like it’s growing back already,” she said, running her fingers through his buzz cut. “Were the other kids teasing you?”
“No,” Robert said. In fact, he’d forgotten about the buzz cut altogether. Who could worry about hair at a time like this?
“At work they’re calling it a head lice epidemic. They’re saying half the school is infected. Is that true?”
“More than half,” Robert said. By the end of the day, he felt like most of his classmates had their heads shaved.
“Maybe you should stay home tomorrow,” Mrs. Arthur said. “Maybe you should avoid the school until they get everything straightened out.”
“No,” Robert insisted. “I need to go back.” As far as he was concerned, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Dinner was quiet that evening. Robert didn’t feel like talking, so his mother didn’t ask lots of questions. Once again she filled a container with leftovers. “Since Glenn enjoyed my ravioli so much, why don’t you run this over to his house?”
This time Robert didn’t hesitate. He was desperate to talk to Glenn, to tell him that Pip and Squeak were in trouble. If that news didn’t jolt his friend back to normal, nothing would.
He walked the same route as the night before, but the trip seemed twice as long without his pets to keep him company. It also seemed twice as cold. Robert shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he’d worn a heavier jacket. He stepped over a pothole full of water, knowing it would probably freeze before morning.
When he arrived at Glenn’s house, he noticed a few things were different. For one thing, the old rowboat on the front lawn was gone. The cinder blocks were stacked in a neat pile at the end of the driveway. And the rest of the junk had been moved to the curb for trash pickup.
The driveway was still empty, so Robert knew Mr. Torkells wasn’t around. He climbed the porch steps and rapped his knuckles on the screen door.
There was no answer.
“Glenn!” he called, knocking louder.
Finally, the door was opened by a woman cradling a baby. “I thought I heard someone,” she said, smiling. “Lizzie and I were upstairs when you knocked.”
The baby was wrapped in a pink blanket; she kicked her tiny legs and squealed. The woman rocked from side to side until the infant stopped crying. Then she patted her on the back and cooed into her ear.
“Um, is Glenn home?” Robert asked.
“You just missed him,” she said. “Are you Robert?”
“Yeah.”
The woman extended her free her hand. “I’m Beth. Glenn’s mom. He’s told me a lot about you.”
Robert shook her hand. “You live here?”
“I’ve been away for a while. Lizzie and I came home yesterday.”
“Oh,” Robert said. He was too surprised to say anything else. He had never imagined that Glenn’s mother would be so … normal.
She held open the door, inviting Robert inside. “Would you like to join us for dinner? Glenn and his dad went out to get a pizza.”
“I already ate,” Robert said.
“You could join us anyway,” she said. “I’ve got root beer. And I bet Glenn would be happy to see you.”
Robert wasn’t so sure about that. He suddenly understood why Glenn was acting so strange, and the answer had nothing to do with the purple wasp or the welt on the back of his neck.
“I should probably go,” he said.
“I’ll tell Glenn you stopped by. Did you want to leave a message?”
“Yeah,” Robert said. “Can you tell him—”
But he couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence. What had happened to Pip and Squeak was so awful, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
“Tell him I’ll see him in school tomorrow.”