Read Online The Ghost in the Third Row by Bruce Coville - Free Book Online Page B

said. “Look at this!”
    I turned around and saw her sitting in a fake coffin held up by a pair of sawhorses. I wondered where it had come from. Then I remembered that the day of the auditions my father had mentioned seeing a stage version of Dracula here a few years ago.
    â€œI’m looking for blood donors,” said Chris. “Anyone want to volunteer?”
    I laughed in spite of myself. “Chris, get out of that thing before someone catches us down here!”
    â€œI can’t! I’m one of the living dead! Watch!”
    With that, she lay back in the coffin and pulled the lid completely shut.
    â€œChris!”
    Slowly the lid of the coffin began to rise again.
    I thought I was going to go out of my skin. I mean, I knew who it was and what was going on. But being down there with all that weird stuff was making me pretty jumpy.
    Suddenly Chris sat straight up in the coffin, crossed her eyes, and stuck her front teeth out over her lower lip. “Where’s that beautiful Edgar?” she cried. “I want to bite his neck!”
    â€œChris!”
    â€œOK, OK,” she said, climbing out of the coffin. “Here, you try it.”
    â€œAre you crazy?”
    â€œNo! Come on. You may never have a chance like this again.”
    Even now I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let her talk me into it. But I climbed into the coffin to see what it felt like.
    I had to admit, it was an interesting experience. I mean, did you ever get to sit in a coffin?
    â€œNow close the lid,” Chris said.
    â€œAre you crazy?” I said for about the fifteenth time.
    â€œCome on, Nine. You won’t know how weird it is unless you close the lid. Besides, I want to see what it looks like when you open it. You got to see me do it. I bet it was really creepy. I want to see it, too.”
    â€œOh, OK,” I said grumpily.
    â€œGreat!” said Chris, stepping away from the coffin.
    Feeling foolish, I took hold of the handle inside the lid and lay back. (Yes, I know. Coffins don’t usually have handles inside their lids. But this one was made especially for a show, remember?)
    As I brought the lid down over my face, I tried to imagine it really was closing on me for the last time. I figured as long as I was at it, I might as well go for the whole experience.
    It spooked me for a minute. But once I got over my initial scare, it was so dark and quiet and cozy I almost decided I liked it.
    I took a moment to figure out what I would say when I opened the lid. I can’t remember the line now, but I thought it was really funny at the time.
    Unfortunately, when I pushed on the lid to get out, it wouldn’t budge.

CHAPTER TWELVE
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    I pushed again. Nothing.
    â€œChris!” I yelled. “Quit fooling around! Let me out of here!”
    â€œWell, open the lid and get out,” said Chris. “I’m not stopping you.”
    If I live to be a hundred, I doubt that moment will ever come off my list of the ten worst things that ever happened to me.
    I smashed my hands against the lid of the coffin. “CHRIS!” I screamed. “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
    â€œHold still!” yelled Chris. “I’m trying!”
    I could hear her scratching and poking around the edges of the lid.
    I took a deep breath and tried to hold still. That got me to wondering if there were air holes in the coffin. Weird visions began to flash through my head. I saw my entire fifth-grade class coming to my funeral. I saw our teacher, Mrs. Grambicki, standing at the edge of the coffin, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and talking about what a good kid I had been.
    â€œIt won’t budge!” Chris said, interrupting my funeral. “I think it’s broken.”
    I think I went a little crazy right then. I remember pounding against the lid like a little kid having a tantrum.
    â€œHold still!” Chris yelled. “You’ll knock the thing off the sawhorses.