Plastic in the Attic
The click meant someone was at their door. All eyes fastened on the door. Then it slammed open, and Bobby stood there, white as a ghost. He shouted, “You chicken shits. Where’d you go? You left me alone there.”
The other three boys just stared, their mouths agape. Then in a wavering voice, David said, “Bobby? Are you alive?”
“Of course I’m alive you numbskull. Where’d you guys go?”
Billy said, “We looked all over for you. What happened, where were you?”
“I was in the attic,” Bobby said. “Didn’t you see the trapdoor? It was wide open.”
All the boys shook their heads. “No,” Ernie said, “We didn’t see no trapdoor. What room was it in?”
“Did you guys go into the room where the swear words were on the blackboard?”
“Yeah.” Billy said.
“That was the room. And none of you yahoos saw the opening in the ceiling?”
The boys shook their heads and shrugged.
Bobby shook his head. “There is a whole lot of chemicals stored up there, and it stinks like plastic.