The Smoky Corridor

42

Eddie strode into the main entrance of the school and found Assistant Principal Crumpler’s office, just like the boss had told him to.

It was upstairs in the building that had once been Horace P. Pettimore’s mansion.

He rapped his knuckles on the bald man’s half-open door.

“What?”

“I’m your new janitor, sir.”

“Humph. How long do you plan to stay on the job? A day?”

“As long as you need me, sir.”

“Humph.” Mr. Crumpler stood up from his desk and clipped a walkie-talkie to his belt, muttering the whole time: “Lousy board of education. Think I should unclog my own toilets … cafeteria tray washer flooding … lima beans on the floor … sloppy joes …”

That was enough to get them out the door and headed down the sweeping staircase to the main hall.

“Do I have an office?” Eddie asked.

“You don’t need an office! You need a mop! A bucket!”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie was wearing a green shirt over green work pants and had a ring of keys clipped to his belt. He looked very janitorial. The boss wanted him at the school because that was where they had the best chance of finding the special child the spirit of John Lee Cooper had spoken of through the medium.

Eddie and Crumpler reached the grand foyer.

“Mighty fine oil painting,” said Eddie, admiring the large portrait of Horace Pettimore in its gilded frame.

The bald man propped his hands on his hips and sized Eddie up.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“That why you talk like you have molasses in your mouth?”

“I suppose so. I hail from Chattanooga, Tennessee, which, coincidentally, is very close to the Georgia border.”

“So?”

“Just makin’ small talk.”

“Well, knock it off! You’ve got work to do!”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Crumpler.”

Eddie wouldn’t say another word.

He wouldn’t point out that he came from a city extremely close to the Georgia home of Patrick J. Cooper, the hero teacher who had died in this very school, valiantly attempting to “save” the two Donnelly brothers in the smoky corridor.

Another terrible “accident.”

He chuckled quietly.

And that was when the small dog darted through the front doors Eddie must have forgotten to close when he’d entered the building.