Phantom of the Auditorium Read Online Free Page A

for a moment.
    “Ow!” I cried out as he shoved me back.
    Then I shoved him harder.
    Then he shoved me harder than that.
    I stumbled back — onto some kind of a switch. My back hit the switch.
    A loud clanking sound made me nearly jump out of my skin.
    “Brooke — jump back on! Quick!” Zeke screamed.
    I leaped back onto the platform just as it started to move.
    Up, up. Sliding slowly but steadily.
    The square of light above our heads grew larger and brighter as we rose back up to the auditorium.
    “Hey!” I cried out as the platform stopped with a jolt.
    “Way to go, Brookie!” Zeke yelled happily. He slapped me on the back.
    “Don’t celebrate yet,” I told him. We still weren’t back on the stage. The platform had stopped about five feet down from the top. Just where it had been for Ms. Walker.
    I guessed that the only way to raise it all the way up was to step on the peg onstage.
    “Give me a boost up,” Zeke urged eagerly.
    I cupped my hands together. He lowered his sneaker into my hands.
    “Wait!” he cried, stepping back down. “Whoa! What if the Phantom is up there waiting for us? Maybe
you
should go first!”
    “Ha-ha. Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Remind me to laugh later.”
    “Okay, okay. I’ll go first,” he muttered.
    He put his sneaker into my cupped hands, reached up to the stage floor, and I gave him a boost.
    I watched him scramble onto the stage. He disappeared from view.
    I waited for him to reach down for me.
    A whole minute went by.
    “Zeke?” The word came out tiny and weak.
    I waited some more. Listening hard.
    I couldn’t hear him up there. Where was he?
    “Zeke? Where are you?” I called up. “Come on. Raise the platform. Or give me a hand,” I called up. “I can’t make it by myself.
    Another minute passed. It seemed like an hour.
    I suddenly realized what Zeke was trying to do.
    That big jerk! He was trying to scare me!
    “Hey! Enough!” I shouted.
    I’d had more than enough of Zeke Matthews for one day.
    “Zeke!” I yelled. “Give me a break! Get me up!”
    Finally, his hands lowered down over the side.
    “It’s about time!” I shouted angrily.
    I grabbed both hands and let him pull me up to the stage.
    I shook my hair back. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the brighter light. “You know, you’renot funny!” I snapped. “Keeping me waiting down there was really —”
    I stopped and swallowed hard. It wasn’t Zeke who had pulled me from the trapdoor.
    A strange pair of dark, angry eyes stared into mine.

8
    I swallowed hard. A strange little man stared back at me, an angry scowl on his face. He wore baggy gray pants and a loose-fitting gray sweatshirt, torn at the collar.
    His thick white hair fell wild and unbrushed over his forehead like a floor mop. He had a deep purple scar down the side of his face, nearly as long as the scar on Zeke’s creature mask.
    I could see that he was old. But he was tiny, no bigger than a kid. He stood only an inch or two taller than Zeke.
    As he squinted at me with his strange gray eyes, his face twisted into an ugly frown.
    He looks like a phantom!
The frightening thought flashed through my mind.
    “Wh-who are you?” I stammered.
    “I’m Emile. The night janitor,” the man rasped.
    “Where’s my friend Zeke?” I demanded in a shrill, frightened voice.
    “Brooke, I’m over here,” Zeke called out from behind me.
    I whirled around. Zeke stood on the other side of the trapdoor. He had his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets. He was biting his lower lip.
    “Zeke!” I cried. “What’s going on? Why —”
    “The school is closed!” The janitor growled. He had a hoarse voice, like sandpaper. “What are you two doing in here?”
    Zeke and I exchanged glances. Zeke took a step forward. “We … uh … stayed for play rehearsal,” he told the man.
    “That’s right,” I chimed in. “We had a late rehearsal.”
    The janitor continued to squint suspiciously at me. “Play rehearsal?” he