Dan Poblocki - The Stone Child

“Eddie?” Harris’s voice sounded far away.

Looking up briefly, Eddie called, “I’m down here! I think I found something!” Suddenly, the wind whipped down the stairs. Inches away, the door slammed shut. Wham! Startled, Eddie slipped on the wet moss, and he tumbled face-first onto the ground next to the storm drain.

Moments later, he heard stifled laughter above him. When he looked up, Eddie saw Harris’s amused face peering at him over the railing. “Are you all right down there? What the heck are you doing?”

Eddie felt like he didn’t have time to be embarrassed. He scrambled to his feet. “You have to see this.”

“See what?” said Harris, walking around to the top of the stairs.

“Look,” Eddie said, pointing to the storm drain.

Harris came down a few steps. He squinted. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

When Eddie looked at the drain again, the flower had disappeared. All that remained of the plant were the leaves poking through the slimy metal bars. “But it was just here…”

“ What was just here?” Harris met Eddie at the bottom of the stairs.

“The flower,” said Eddie. “I saw it… It looked just like…”

“Like this?” said Harris, bending over. The purple flower lay crumpled near the wall, severed from the rest of the plant. When Eddie saw it, his stomach began to hurt. Harris picked up the flower and handed it to Eddie.

His heart thumping, Eddie held the flower’s stem between his thumb and forefinger. It seemed to squirm as the breeze rustled its petals. An awful scent oozed from it-like old food left in a sink of dirty dishes. “Oh no,” he whispered. He had a feeling that he’d just made a huge mistake. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I must have accidentally broken the stem when…”

“What’s the big deal?” said Harris. “It’s a flower. Let’s get out of here. We’ve got stuff to do.”

“Look closely,” said Eddie, holding the flower out for Harris to see.

“If I look any closer, it’s gonna poke me in the eye! What are you getting at?”

Frustrated, Eddie took a deep breath. “Doesn’t it look like a Gremlin’s Tongue?” he said.

Harris took the flower back again. He looked closely, then held it up to his nose and sniffed it. “Like the ones from Nathaniel Olmstead’s book?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Am I crazy for thinking that?” said Eddie, embarrassed. “Or is something really strange going on here?” The hinges began to screech again as the door slowly opened. A small dark gap appeared between the door and the frame. The awful smell grew stronger-rotting food mixed with the scent of musty old books.

Creee…

“Ugh! They need to fix this thing,” said Eddie, glaring at the door. He brought his foot back, then kicked the door as hard as he could. It swung, but before it could slam shut, it stopped with a dull thud. Something just inside the basement archway cried out in a loud, rough shriek. This new sound was not squeaking hinges.

“What… was that?” said Harris.

Before Eddie could answer, the door began to open again, this time more quickly. The gap grew wider as the darkness inside the basement revealed itself to him. Instinctively, Eddie reached out his hand and stopped the door. He began to push it closed.

But something pushed back.

Wide-eyed, Eddie pressed all his weight against the metal door. It slammed shut with another wham! Eddie turned around and leaned his bag against it. He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. Harris stared at him. Then the door rattled as whatever was on the other side gave it one hard jolt. Eddie screamed and pressed his back into the metal, his feet sliding on the slippery ground.

The night was quiet for a moment. Harris shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eddie was thrown forward as the thing in the basement resumed its assault. Harris slammed himself against the door, stopping it from swinging wide open. Eddie recovered, and the two boys pressed it shut with all their strength. The door bounced again and again as the thing on the other side fought back, ferociously trying to escape. Then suddenly it stopped.

After a moment, Harris whispered through his teeth, “You picked that flower.”

“Yeah, but not on purpose!”

“ So what?” Harris said. “You shouldn’t have come down here.”

“I was looking for clues to the code!”

“We already knew that some of the things in Nathaniel Olmstead’s books were real. Thanks to you, we know the Gremlin’s Tongue gremlin is real too!”

Eddie knew Harris was right. He shuddered, imagining the creature listening to them from the other side of the door, inches away. They wouldn’t be able to stand there holding the door shut forever, especially if the pounding started again. Even though he hadn’t meant to pick the flower, Eddie’s face flushed in shame. He should have been more careful. Anyone who’d read Nathaniel Olmstead’s books knew that to pick a Gremlin’s Tongue would release its keeper.

At least now Eddie knew the Olmstead Curse was most definitely real-not that he’d had many doubts after what happened at the lake in the woods. “I don’t hear anything,” he said. “Is it gone?”

Harris pressed his ear to the door. He listened for a moment, nodded, then said, “Now might be our only chance.”

“To do what?”

“ Run,” Harris whispered, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and pulling him away from the door.

Cold air rushed into Eddie’s lungs as he took a huge breath and raced up the stairs behind Harris. By the time they reached the top, the door at the bottom had swung open again.

Wham!

Eddie didn’t wait to see what had been behind it. Together, the boys ran toward the front of the library, their feet smacking against the concrete sidewalk. They dashed around the corner toward the main entrance. Eddie’s own bike sat quietly next to the rhododendrons. He noticed that Harris had chained his bike to the rack. No time to unlock it. As they raced up the front steps, Eddie whispered, “Please be open. Please be open. Please be open.” He stretched out his arms to push the front door, but just as he was about to fling the full force of his weight against it, the door swung inward.

“Ugh!” two voices cried in unison, as together Eddie and the person on the other side of the door tumbled to the floor.

Harris scrambled into the library behind them. He slammed the door shut and leaned his weight against it, panting.

After a moment, Eddie noticed that the person on the floor was Maggie Ringer. The books she’d been carrying were scattered across the rug. She winced in pain as she tried to sit.

“I’m so sorry!” Eddie exclaimed. “We were running from-”

Harris nudged Eddie’s leg with his foot.

“We were just running. Like… for fun?” He struggled to his feet. After he stood up, he offered his hand to Maggie, who still seemed to be in shock.

“Great. Well, next time, it might be more fun for me if you look where you’re going,” she said.

“Are you kids okay?” The librarian, Mrs. Singh, came out from behind her desk. “Why are you standing like that?” she said, looking at Harris.

“We’re fine,” said Harris, pressing his back against the door. Just then, something slammed against the glass. Harris screamed, then quickly composed himself, bracing the door even harder. His sneakers slid a bit on the rug. He squeezed his eyes shut and said, “Just fine.”

“What the heck is that?” shouted Maggie. She pointed at the door, just beyond Harris’s feet. Through the glass, Eddie saw what Maggie was looking at. He clutched at his mouth to hold back a scream.

On the library’s top step stood a creature unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was about a foot tall. Its skin was bruise-purple. Twists of vine and clumps of dirt and dead leaves littered its greasy green hair, which hung from its head almost all the way down to the ground. Other than this strange cape of thick hair, the creature was naked. The gremlin watched them for several seconds with its yellow catlike eyes, then smiled viciously with its wide greenish lips. It raised its little hand, as if to wave, then brought it down hard against the glass.