Boogers from Beyond #3 (5 page)

“Hey, ggggguuysssss,” gurgled Ben. “I woke up with a
massssssiifff sneeeezzzz
, and spent an hour looking for you. Nabila, can I have a handkerchief? I'm dying over here. BLUUUUURGGH!”

Ben walked into the room, and the doors swung shut behind him with a click.

Gordon ran up to the door and grabbed the handles.

“Nooooooo!” he screamed. “It's locked! I gotta peeeeeee!!!”

“Welcome to the party,” Shane said to Ben.

The sun rose on a new day at Gallow Manor. We had survived the night, but in the banquet hall, Gordon was struggling.

“Man, if someone doesn't show up soon, I'm gonna have to pee all over this place,” he said.

“You could just blame it on the werewolves,” said Shane.

“They stopped doing that,” I said.

Gordon rushed to a wall and unzipped his fly.

“Gross,” said Nabila.

“I have no choice!” Gordon sounded desperate.

There was a click at the door, and it slowly creaked open. Gordon swiftly zipped back up.

Director Z walked in with a scowl on his face.

“What are you doing fooling around?” asked Director Z. “The PTA meeting is in less than two hours.”

“How are they even going to get here?” I asked. “There's four feet of snow out there.”

“Take a look outside,” said Director Z.

Shane and I ran up to the window. The snow had melted enough to look out the very top. Shane gave me a boost so I could have a peek.

“WHOA,” I said.

“What?” asked Shane, looking up.

“Dude,” I replied. “The snow ends ten feet past the manor. Even the parking area is completely clear.”

“I've never seen snow so localized,” said Director Z, “and I have a theory about what has caused this. But we don't have time for that now. I must check in with Lunch Lady and make sure the proper preparations are being made.”

I opened my mouth to tell Director Z what had happened to us the night before, but he cut me off.

“I suggest you all take showers,” said Director Z. “But you'll need to unclog the drains and clean up the bathroom first. Gil decided to take another three-hour-long swamp shower to keep warm last night. There's swamp muck and vegetation everywhere, and we can't let our guests see such a mess.”

Frederick, the old stitched-together monster, came in holding a bizarre-looking metal cylinder with rubber on the tips.

“Here you go, Boss,” he said, and handed the cylinder to Director Z.

“Thank you,” said Director Z. “Frederick and I have been laboring over this particular piece of plumbing equipment for quite some time, and it should help you out greatly with unclogging the drains. Simply insert the front end into the drain, make sure to hold on to the rubber at the top, and press the red button. It utilizes a quite powerful type of electricity, so please make sure you're not actually
in
the water when using it.”

“Got it,” said Shane, snatching the electro de-clogger. “Should we expect any alligators?”

“Not this time,” said Director Z, and he turned to leave.

“Aw, man,” said Shane as we followed Director Z.

We quickly showered and then put on the same clothes we had worn the day before. Ben did his best to clean off the puke and orange boogers.

“Did you find any shampoo?” Ben asked as Shane walked into the room drying his hair. “I couldn't use anything because of my allergies.”

“The only thing I found was the werewolves' flea and tick shampoo,” said Shane. “Which is good, because I think they might have given me fleas a few months back, and I'd been meaning to do something about that.”

Gordon squirmed on the bench in front of the harpsichord.

“What's wrong with you?” I asked.

“I can't STAND wearing the same underwear two days in a row,” Gordon shouted. “It just feels
wrong.
”

“Hey,” Ben said, squinting. “Is that something green poking out of your butt crack?”

“What?!” Gordon reached back and pulled a huge wad of swamp vegetation out of his pants. “Awwwww, man!”

Nabila walked into the room, looking fresh and clean.

“That's why I always carry an extra pair of underwear in my fanny pack,” she said. “You never know. Next time I'll carry a second extra pair for you, Gordon.”

“Umm . . .” Gordon looked confused. “Thanks?”

When we got back to the banquet hall, Lunch Lady and a few chefs—men who looked like Nurses, but with chefs' hats instead of nurses' caps—started to bring out the food that Lunch Lady had prepared.

One chef came into the room with a huge bowl of whitefish to spread on the bagels.

“Hey,” said Ben, grabbing the bowl, “this is regular fish, right? It's not zombie piranha salad . . . right?”

“Just don't geet any snot in eet,” said Lunch Lady. “You really should just lie down, my darleeng.”

She grabbed the bowl and put it in the center of the table. Jane the zombie shuffled into the room and was about to grab a handful of the whitefish for a snack when Nabila pulled a bit of vegetable brain out of her fanny pack and jumped in front of her.

“Hungry?” she asked, as she waved the vegetable brain in front of Jane.

The zombie swiped the brain and gulped it down as she shuffled off.

“Hey,” said Shane, “you're getting better at handling the zombies than me these days.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“I'm sure it helps that Ben has got so much snot in his brain that he's part zombie,” Gordon said, chuckling.

We shuffled the last of the zombies out of the room just in time for the first parents and teachers to arrive, escorted by Nurses.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Director Z said as each one arrived. “I hope you don't mind being escorted to this room, but our new facility is quite large, and I'd hate for you to get lost.”

The parents and teachers were very impressed with the facilities.

“Wow,” said one, “this is massive!”

“Hey,” said another. “Ms. Veracruz, what are you doing here?”

“Where are the old folks?” asked another.

“Oh,” said Director Z, “we didn't feel the need to bother them with your activities, nor you with theirs. They're most likely in their common area, or their rooms.”

I stood next to Shane and Gordon, handing out the agendas that my mother had printed up. Nabila was tending to Ben, who was still super snotty.

My mother arrived, took one look at the setup, and gave me a big thumbs-up!

“Chrissy,” she said, “I can't believe the snow. We didn't get one bit. It's like it just all dumped on the retirement home. Until I saw it with my own eyes, I thought you'd made it up.”

“Totally weird, right?” I replied. “It was a crazy night.”

“The food looks great,” she said. “How does the lunch lady know Director Z?”

“It's a long story,” I said. “I'll tell it to you sometime.”

Once everyone had grabbed a little breakfast and settled in, my mother stood up and headed for the podium.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said. “It's so great to have you all here. Please refer to the agenda you were handed, and let's get started.”

The meeting began, and everything seemed okay. I even started to relax. The five of us sat in the back of the banquet hall in a circle of chairs we had gathered. We played the game of pretending to squeeze the tiny heads of teachers we didn't like between our fingers. Then we saw Mr. Stewart's bushy head of hair and had a fun time squishing his head even though we liked him so much.

The more the meeting dragged on, the more I thought we'd get out of it with no problem.

“Maybe this section of the manor isn't haunted,” I whispered to Shane.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Nothing happened once we got in here last night.”

There was a squeak, and the door swung open.

Murrayhotep walked into the room and looked around.

“Thanks again for the help yesterday,” said Shane.

Murrayhotep gave Shane a dirty look, and a few of the parents in the back row SHUSHed Shane as some other parent made a big point at the podium.

“What is that grump doing here?” asked Gordon.

Before we could ask Murrayhotep what he was doing, my mother began speaking from the podium again.

“I just wanted to take a moment to thank Gallow Manor Retirement Home for hosting us today,” she said, smiling. “I'd especially like to thank my son and his friends for all the preparations they made over the last few days. They do an amazing job volunteering here at the retirement home. Come on up, guys, and take a bow.”

We looked at each other in disbelief and then shuffled up to the stage behind the podium. The audience of parents and teachers applauded.

Murrayhotep stomped his way up the center aisle toward us, his right hand raised.

“An amazing job, my eye! These kids are no good,” yelled Murray, and dipped his hand into the bag that he was carrying. “Always bothering us. They—”

Before I could yell at Murray for being such a grump, the mic started to produce feedback terribly.

SCCCRRREEEEEEEEEEE!

We all stood back from the microphone, but it didn't help.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Murrayhotep stopped in his tracks.

The audience covered its ears.

My mother tried to move the microphone, but it didn't help.

Nothing helped.

“Where's Zachary?” she yelled, and jumped off the stage—

Just as four terrifying creatures floated down from the ceiling with a bone-chilling roar.

Parents and teachers gasped as four huge, bodiless heads descended from the ceiling. Their long, barbed tongues lashed out from behind sharp tusks.

“I guess this corner of the manor is haunted after all.” Shane gulped, dodging the dirty, insanely long and thick black hair that grew out of each head.

Murrayhotep ran back down the aisle in the direction he'd come from. The doors slammed behind him as he left.

“This must be the newest breed of super monster,” yelled Gordon. “Murrayhotep is scared to death!”

The creatures growled and slowly circled the five of us as we grouped together on the stage. Drool dripped off of their tusks, and their massive eyes bulged.

In the audience, the parents and teachers chattered nervously. I looked around for my mom, but couldn't find her. Nobody quite knew what they were looking at—or what to do.

“Which action plan?” screeched Nabila. “Which action plan!?”

“Five?” Ben sounded doubtful.

All at once, the creatures opened their mouths with the loudest roar yet. One floated out over the audience, taunting the parents and teachers. Folks were now running to the door.

“It's locked!” someone screamed.

The remaining heads closed in on us on the stage.

“Seven?” Shane sounded desperate. “All of our action plans use old monsters, and they're not here!”

“Just get ready,” I said.

“For what?” Gordon asked.

“I dunno—just get ready to defend yourself,” I said. “Kick some heads, Shane!”

We were completely cornered, but we had to do something.

“Everyone, please calm down,” shouted Director Z as he headed for the locked doors.

Another creature head broke away from the stage and taunted the screaming crowd near the doors.

“WWWWEEEEYYYYYAH!” It moaned and spat.

Shane pulled a few karate moves on the creature heads when they dipped into his space, but they always knew right when to swing out of the way.

“If I keep missing, I'm going to pull a muscle,” he said. He finally kicked one right in the jaw, and it flew back onto the floor, a jumble of hair and tusks.

“Waaaa!” squealed Nabila. “One's got Ben!”

Arms had sprouted from the hideous face of another creature, and grabbed Ben, who was now two feet off the ground and rising.

“Guys, help!” he yelled as he rose farther up.

“There. Isss. No. Help. For. YOUUUUU,” moaned the head.

“Waaaah,” screamed Ben.

Nabila grabbed at his feet.

The head shook Ben violently, and as it did, dust poured out of its long mane. Ben, stuck in the middle of the cloud, took in a huge breath.

“AHHHHH . . .

“AHHHHHHHHHH . . .

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH . . .

“Chooooooooooooooo!” Ben slobbered and snotted onto the creature's face. I could see a booger stuck on the bulging eye of the creature.

“Ah!” yelled the head as it dropped Ben on the floor with an OOF. “The terrible bogies! My eyes! BLECH! Why, I've never in my life, or my afterlife, seen a snottier sneeze. Dear boy, learn how to cover your mouth! ACK!”

The doors sprang open, pushing the parents and teachers back into the center of the room. The creature that had held Ben floated awkwardly past them and out of the room.

The other floating creatures seemed confused, but quickly followed.

None of the parents knew what to do.

It was deathly silent.

Ben sneezed another violent sneeze on the stage, and was knocked back onto his butt.

We all stood frozen—dumbfounded. Our open jaws nearly touched the floor. For Shane, Gordon, Nabila, and me, it was because we couldn't believe what had just happened. For Ben, it was because he was still choking on the dust. Nabila went over to help him.

The parents and teachers were all dumbfounded as well. They all sat back down, and everyone looked at us with their heads cocked to the side.

I was still standing in the middle of it all, so all eyes were on me. Gordon and Shane backed down from the stage.

“Uhhhhhmmmm . . . ,” I said.

Durrrrrrrrrrrr . . . ,
thought my brain.

Before anyone could say anything, Director Z walked forward from the back of the room, clapping loudly.

“Bravo! Bravo!” he called. A few of the parents turned around and watched him come their way. “What an excellent performance. So gut-wrenching, powerful . . . realistic! Ladies and gentlemen, please give the wonderful St. James Players and many of your own children a round of applause for the amazing theater piece they just performed. What amazing acting!”

“This. Isn't. Act. Ing,” Ben coughed.

“Ah, but you are too modest,” countered Director Z. He squinted his eyes at me and nodded his head that I should talk.

“Yes,” I said. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for watching our new play:
Horror at Gallow Manor
. We hope we've entertained you this afternoon!”

The room was painfully silent.

I bowed.

Finally, from the very back row, Nabila's parents rose and applauded loudly.

“Bravo,” yelled her father. “We knew you had it in you!”

“Oh, you've made us so proud,” her mother yelled. “What an amazing cultural experience.”

Nabila took a big bow.

The rest of the crowd began to applaud, quietly at first. Then, slowly, they all rose and applauded loudly.

I motioned for my friends to join me on stage, and we all bowed together, poor Ben coughing the whole time. Shane gave him a sharp slap on the back and he finally stopped.

“I think we might win a Tony for this,” Ben gasped.

“I think they're just happy to think it wasn't real,” Gordon whispered.

“Joke's on them,” said Shane. “That was real . . . right?”

“I have an idea,” Nabila said. “I think that . . .”

My mother rose—like a zombie—and walked past us to the podium.

“Shhh,” I said to the others. “We can talk about it later. I'm just glad we somehow survived.”

“Hi, everyone,” said my mother to the crowd, her voice shaking a bit. “I think we can hold off on new business until the next meeting. I can't really think straight. All in favor?”

“AYE,” the entire crowd responded.

“What about the door prize?” asked one balding father.

My mother grabbed a canned ham and flung it to him, nearly knocking him over.

“It's all yours,” she said.

Before Director Z could say “Thank you for coming,” the crowd of concerned parents and teachers headed for the door. The Nurse escorts tried their best to walk folks out, but everyone wanted to leave as fast as possible.

“No, no, no,” one mother said. “I can show myself out. I insist.”

Director Z looked over at me with a concerned glance.

“Gordon,” I whispered, “just run ahead and make sure no monsters are lurking on the way to the front door.”

Gordon ran off, and my mother walked up to the rest of my friends and me.

“Oh, Chrissy,” said my mother, “that was so real. I got really caught up in it. For a minute, I thought maybe the fish had gone bad, because I could have sworn I was seeing things . . .”

“See, I told you something was up with the fish!” added Ben.

Nabila smacked his head.

“Is this why you're always here so late at night, and so stressed?” asked my mother.

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” chirped Shane. “And if you think this is good, wait until you see our karate routine! We'll have it ready for you next month.”

“Oh, no,” my mother gasped. “That's quite all right. I'd hate to bother all the old folks. It was such a nice gesture that Director Z let us use this space, but I think we'll go back to the Rotary Dinner Hall next time.”

“Aw, come on, Mrs. T,” said Shane. “This was an amazing performance.”

“Well,” she said, “I'll think about it.”

She turned to leave, still shaking a bit and mumbling to herself.

Once she left, I turned to Shane.

“What were you thinking, inviting my mother back to Gallow Manor after we barely survived this time?”

Shane replied something along the lines of “I dunno,” but I could only focus on the creature that had appeared behind him.

“GWARRRRR!” growled the creature.