Don't Close Your Eyes! (6 page)

Some kids clapped politely.

Mr. Rudolph took the podium. He cleared his throat and started to speak in a high, soft voice. “I was fascinated by fire hydrants even when I was a kid,” he said. “I used to take pictures of them, and study them, and sit on them. And when I was
really
little, I used to talk to them.”

I wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. But a lot of kids laughed.

“Now I feel so lucky to be part of the fire hydrant family,” Mr. Rudolph said. “Perhaps you kids don't know this. But there are actually six different kinds of fire hydrants.”

My eyes shut. Mr. Rudolph's voice faded into the distance.

I guess I fell asleep.

I woke up laughing. “Ha, ha! Ha! Ho!”

Ow. A pain in my side. I turned to see Nicky and Tara tickling me.

Mr. Rudolph peered down at me from the stage. “Something funny, young man?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He pointed to a slide on the screen and continued his talk. “Now, here is my favorite hydrant,” he said. “It's practical, it's long-lasting, and it's beautiful in an industrial sort of way. I like the curves of it, and …”

His voice faded again. I fell asleep.

“Yaii!
Ha ha hahaha!” I woke up. My ghost friends were tickling me again.

Mr. Rudolph stopped speaking. He glared at me. “Do you find fire hydrants
funny?”
he asked. “I think they're very serious. Is there a joke I'm missing?”

“Hahaha. No,” I said. “Stop tickling me! Ha ha ho ho ha!” I'm very ticklish.

Mrs. Wright jumped up from her seat beside the podium. “Let's be polite, Max,” she scolded. “Mr. Rudolph has a lot to tell us.”

“Fire hydrants can save your life,” Mr. Rudolph continued, his eyes on me.

“You have to understand the whole system. And of course, you need to know about water pressure to understand the system. …”

His voice faded. I drifted off to sleep again.

“Hahaha ha ha!
Stop it!
Stop it!”
I cried, jumping to my feet.

Nicky and Tara were tickling too hard.

Kids laughed and hooted and pointed at me.

Mrs. Wright leaped angrily to the podium. Her
face burned bright red. “Max, I'll have to ask you to leave,” she snapped into the microphone.

“Ha ha ha,”
I said. I couldn't stop.

“Please apologize to our guest and leave the auditorium,” the principal said, waving toward the doors at the back. “I'll see you in my office after school.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. Then I yawned. Really loudly.

More laughing and hooting all around me. As I pushed my way to the aisle and started to make the long walk to the exit at the back, kids cheered and clapped.

Not a great moment for Max Doyle. But I was too sleepy to even think about the trouble I was in.

I pushed open the door and staggered into the hall. I could hear Mr. Rudolph droning on behind me.

I yawned again. “Nicky? Tara? Are you here?” I asked.

Silence. No sign of them.

I leaned against the cool tile wall and tried to get myself together. My head weighed at least two tons. It took all my strength to keep my eyelids open.

I decided I'd go downstairs to the gym. Maybe work out a little.

I know. That wasn't like me at all. But I thought maybe exercise would help wake me up.

Blinking, yawning, I staggered to the stairs. I reached for the metal rail on the side—and missed.

I stumbled. And started to fall.

“Nooooo!”
I let out a long howl as I tumbled all the way down the steep stairs, rolling over and over.

“UNNNNNH”

Was I hurt?

No. I'd landed flat on my back on something soft.

I heard someone groan. The sound seemed to come from
beneath
me.

I tried to roll off. But my arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. It took three tries.

I rolled away and pulled myself to my knees.

“Traci!” I cried out. She lay flat on her stomach on the floor, her hair over her face.

“Traci!”

I'd landed on Traci Wayne.

She raised her head and turned her face to me.

And what was that chocolatey stuff all over her face?

She sat up. The chocolate goop oozed down the front of her sweater, too. She shook her head, dazed. Chocolate dripped from her perfect blond hair.

I saw the tray of chocolate pudding on the
floor next to her. She'd been carrying the pudding cups. And then I fell on her. And now there was pudding all over her.

Did I want to die? Or disappear into the floor? Or both?

Of course. Do you have any idea how totally embarrassing it is to have a huge crush on a girl— and then fall down the stairs on her when she's carrying chocolate pudding cups?

Yikes.

Traci slowly climbed to her feet. She tried wiping the pudding off her sweater with both hands. But of course, that only got pudding all over her hands, too.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered.

She frowned at me. “Max,” she said, “this didn't really happen—
did
it?”

I swallowed. “I think it's real. I don't think we're dreaming.”

She pulled a blob of pudding off her forehead. Then she said something totally shocking. “Max, do you promise not to fall on me if I come to your house tonight?”

Traci? Come to my house?

Of course, I realized what that meant. She wanted me to do her homework for her.

“N-no problem,” I stammered.

But of course, there
was
a problem. A big problem. I'd already been awake for forty-eight hours.

How would I stay awake long enough to do Traci's homework?

And here was an even bigger problem. I'd just remembered my tryout for the swim team. It was after school.

How could I make the team if I was sound asleep in the water?

AFTER
MY
LAST
CLASS
, I dragged myself to the school's new pool and changed into my swimsuit. It took me a long moment to realize I'd put it on backward. I could barely see straight.

Coach Freeley greeted me at the edge of the pool. I nearly walked right into him!

The coach is built like a tank. He's very short and very wide, with bulging muscles everywhere you can have muscles. He has a broad chest that stretches his T-shirts tight over his perfect abs. He's young, and the girls all think he's really hot because of his wavy black hair and white-toothed smile.

He's a nice guy. He's always been nice to me. It was especially great of him to give me this special tryout.

If only I wasn't asleep on my feet!

“Take it easy at first, Max,” he said. “Do some laps. Any kind of stroke you want. Just to warm up.”

“Okay,” I said. I hoped he didn't see my yawn.

I tried to dive in, but I fell off the edge. I landed with a
splat
on the surface of the water.

Brrr. They keep it pretty cold. Lucky for me. I thought it might wake me up.

I started with a simple breaststroke. I swam smoothly and with a steady rhythm.

I knew Coach Freeley was watching. I thought I was doing a good job, until—
clonnnk
— I bumped my head on the side of the pool.

Shaking it off, I turned in the water and tried my sidestroke. But my arms felt heavy. I didn't have the strength to kick. Too tired … too sleepy …

I felt myself sink under the surface.

Too sleepy …

I couldn't move my arms, my legs. Too tired and weak.

I shut my eyes and sank lower … lower.

From somewhere far away, I heard a splash. Soon after, two hands grabbed my waist. I opened my eyes and saw Nicky swimming beside me. He pulled me to the surface.

“Saved your life, Max.”

I raised my head and took one deep breath, then another.

Nicky floated me to the side of the pool. Coach Freeley stood there watching me and shaking his head.

“I never had a swimmer
sink
before!” he said.

“But—” I started.

“You sank like a rock,” the coach said. “What made you think you could be on the swim team? Did you think we have a hit-the-bottom-first competition?”

“But…,” I said.

“See you in gym class, Max,” Coach Freeley said. “At least you can't sink in the gym!”

Still shaking his head, he started toward the locker room.

I turned to Nicky. Tara appeared beside him, treading water. “What am I going to do?” I wailed. “My dad will
kill
me! He'll never let me forget it if I don't make the swim team.”

“Max, call to him,” Tara said. “Tell him that's just your way of warming up.”

“Yeah,” Nicky said. “Ask for a second chance.”

“Coach—come back!” I shouted. My hoarse voice echoed off the high tile walls. “That's just the way I warm up.”

He stepped up to the pool edge. “You warm up by
drowning?”

I nodded. “It helps my breath control. Please— give me a second chance,” I pleaded.

He stared down at me. “Promise you won't sink to the bottom?”

“You'll be impressed,” I said. “Really.”

He crossed his massive arms in front of his
massive chest. “Go ahead, Max. Show me what you've got.”

Of course, I didn't have
anything
. I could barely keep my head above water.

But Nicky and Tara went to work and made me look like an Olympic champion. The coach blew his whistle, and they each grabbed one side and rocketed me through the water. They shot me from end to end so fast, we sent up high waves on both sides. I looked like a torpedo!

I set the school speed record. I'm sure of it. Pretty good, considering I'd never even moved my arms or legs!

When I finished and floated over to the side of the pool, I was gasping for breath even though I hadn't moved a muscle.

Coach Freeley's whistle had fallen to his chest. His eyes bulged. He stared at me openmouthed. “Max, I think I'm gonna try that
sinking
warm-up with the rest of the guys!” he said. “You're fast. You're real fast!”

“Oh, I can do better than that,” I said.

Nicky and Tara rolled their eyes.

“You made the team, buddy,” the coach said, grinning at me. “I want you to demonstrate that stroke to everyone. I like how you keep your arms and legs close together and barely move them. Very aerodynamic. Super! Just super!”

“Thanks, coach,” I said.

“Go get dried off. You're gonna be a star, Max.” He turned and hurried away, his sneakers slapping the tiles.

“A star,” I repeated, yawning. “A star …”

Nicky and Tara dragged me from the water. “I'm sleepwalking,” I said. “I'm a real zombie. Not a pretend zombie.”

“But you made the swim team,” Nicky said.

I sighed. “I nearly drowned.”

“Max, don't worry,” Tara said, handing me a towel. “Nicky and I have a plan.”

“Yeah. We've figured out what the old storyteller was telling us,” Nicky said.

A smile spread over Tara's face. “We'll have you free of Inkweed tonight!” she said.

SO
THIS
IS
WHERE
we came in. Here we are, back at the beginning.

I'm sitting across my kitchen table from Traci Wayne. She's thumbing through a
Teen People
magazine, and I'm trying to do her homework for her.

That's not easy when your eyes keep closing and you just want to lay your head on the table and sleep.

“Max, do you have to yawn so loud?”

“Sorry, Traci.”

Yawn, yawn.

She grabbed my wrist. “Max, you're trying to write with the eraser side of the pencil,” she said. “Use the
lead
side.”

“Oh. Yeah,” I murmured. My eyes were so tired, I couldn't see one end of the pencil from the other.

“You're a real clown tonight,” Traci said. “How come you're in such a jokey mood, Max?”

“Ha, ha,” I said. I couldn't think of a better answer.

I climbed to my feet. “I have to go up to my room and get my calculator,” I said. “I'll be right back.”

She didn't look up from her magazine.

Do you believe it? Traci Wayne was actually in my house, sitting across from me. And all I wanted to do was sleep. How bizarre was that?

Going to my room was a big mistake.

I started toward the desk to get my calculator. But I couldn't keep my eyes off my bed. It appeared to have a glowing light around it. And I heard a choir of angelic voices calling to me, calling me to the glowing bed.

I tried to fight it. But the bed pulled me like a strong magnet.

Before I realized it, I was curled up on top of the covers.

Just a short nap, I told myself. Just a few seconds. Nothing bad can happen in a few seconds.

I shut my eyes. I felt Inkweed stir inside me. I could feel him tense and grow alert.

Nicky came to the rescue again. I woke up with a gasp. He was shaking me by the shoulders. “No sleeping, Max,” he said. “Snap out of it.”

Blinking, I saw ink stains all over my bedspread.

“Just a few more hours to go,” Tara said,
somewhere behind him. “A few short hours, and you'll be free.”

Nicky pulled me to the stairs. “Wake up, Max. Go finish Traci's homework. Then we can see about dealing with Inkweed.”

“Yes. Homework,” I muttered. My eyes were closed. I didn't see the first step.

My foot missed and I started to fall.

“Heyyyyy!”
I cried out in shock as I went tumbling down the stairs.

I landed at the bottom on something soft.

Traci!

“That's it! I'm
outta
here!” she cried.

“But, Tracy—”

She scrambled to her feet. “I warned you not to fall on me again, Max. How many times a day do you think you can fall on me?”

“Two?” I replied.

She let out a growl. Then, her blond hair flying behind her, she quickly gathered up all her books and papers. She stuffed them into her backpack and ran out of the house. The front door slammed hard behind her.

I picked myself up from the floor and tested my arms and legs to make sure I hadn't broken anything. I was still stretching and bending when my mom stepped into the room.

“Traci left so soon?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”