No Trace of Bobby

The boys went from bare room to bare room, with only an occasional broken desk or chair it’s only occupant. In one room was a chair on it’s side, and dirty words written on the old blackboard.

After scouring all the rooms they met in the short hallway. David sneezed. The aged dust was getting to them all. “Let’s go.” David said, starting down the stairs. Billy and Ernie followed David and Shep until the were outside in the bright sunshine.

“We gotta tell someone,” Ernie said.
“But who?” David offered.


The sound came from the building. That’s all it took to send the boys into panic mode. They ran.
They arrived, winded, at their clubhouse. The musty smell of long gone chickens was a welcoming smell after the school house dust.

The clubhouse was at Bobby’s house, but both of Bobbys parents worked so no one was at home. David was the first to say outloud what they were all thinking. “Do you think Bobby’s dead?”
“We gotta call the police,” Billy said.

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