“Would you please slow down and start making some sense?” Sara begged. “Are you saying there’s more than one of you crazies flitting about the rafters of the school?”
“Uh, no… not precisely,” the Phantom answered in a noncommittal fashion. “And I’m not really crazy, you know, just a bit, uh… eccentric, I suppose. We all have our quirks, don’t we?”
“You live in a boiler room. That’s pretty crazy,” Maria pointed out.
“I can see why you might think so,” the Phantom acknowledged. “But I assure you, I have my reasons for living as I do. And I don’t confine myself to this one room, of course! This building has many areas that are hidden from your eyes, you silly schoolchildren.”
“I’m not really sure if that was meant to comfort us, but it’s actually kind of disturbing,” Sara said. “And would it kill you to take off that silly mask while you’re talking to us? Why are you even wearing it?”
The Phantom sighed with disappointment, but reluctantly nodded her head. “Very well. I’m a bit shy, you see, and I place a great deal of importance on maintaining my privacy, but if you insist… I suppose it’s a gesture of good faith I can extend to you. As to why I dress as I do, well, I’ve always had a great appreciation for the classics. This is a pretty good ‘Phantom’ get-up, don’t you think? And my performance in the auditorium this morning – I was very pleased with it, I must say!”
The sisters nodded in hesitant agreement, though they were exceedingly cautious and distrustful of whoever was behind the mask. They presumed her to be a lunatic, or at the very least to be a bit unbalanced, to put it kindly.
They further presumed the Phantom must be in league with Jasper and Ebenezer, which was a sure sign of villainy. Nothing about the stranger living in the furnace room seemed predictable or ordinary, so Maria and Sara were proceeding with as much vigilance and prudence as they could manage.
“Now, then… behold the face of the Phantom!” the caped woman cried.
With a single smooth motion, she reached toward her belt and deployed another one of her firecrackers, releasing colorful smoke all around her. At the same time, she reached one gloved hand to her mask and flung it from her face.
The sisters eagerly waited for the smoke to disperse, while the Phantom once more coughed and sputtered from her reckless dispensing of pyrotechnics in close quarters.
“Note to self,” the Phantom gasped as she waved her hands about to accelerate the dispersion of smoke. “You’ve really got to stop using illusionary effects in the furnace room!”
When the vapors of red and green and blue vanished, Sara and Maria were finally able to see the Phantom’s face – and she looked anything but evil. She was a pretty young woman in her mid-thirties, with brown hair that was cropped close to her head.
She wore no makeup, but her cheeks had a naturally rosy complexion that provided a more powerful effect than any artificial enhancement might have. Her eyes were brown and keen, and her features were kind, giving the impression of a likable, trustworthy person.
It certainly wasn’t the face one would associate with scoundrels and scallywags. Despite the pleasant appearance of the Phantom, however, the sisters did not lower their guard. That, they were sure, would be a mistake.
“You still haven’t told us your name,” Sara pointed out. “Among other things – like why you’re wailing away on the school’s furnace with a hammer.”
“You really don’t want to call me the Phantom, eh?” the stranger asked with evident disappointment.
“Uh, no, not really,” Sara said.
The Phantom squinted her eyes and furrowed her brow, giving the impression that she was applying an awful lot of thought to what should have been a pretty straightforward answer. After all, how hard was it to tell somebody what your own name was? This hesitation only increased the sisters’ suspicions.
“Well, then… why don’t you call me Double H?” the Phantom finally suggested.
Maria scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “That can’t possibly be your real name, can it?”
“It’s my initials,” Double H explained. “H.H. As I mentioned, I’m quite shy, and… well, I’m just a bit reluctant to share my name with people. It’s nothing personal, I hope you understand. I mean, I did take off my mask, and that’s a big deal for me! I’m in uncharted territory here - why, at this rate, I might even be able to venture outside again some day! I have some, uh… anxiety related disorders, you see.”
“Okay… Double H, it is,” Maria agreed, exchanging a perplexed expression with her sister.
“Now who is it that you’re talking about, up in the ceiling?” Sara asked. “Who do you think took our dad?”
The three of them looked to where the Phantom had pointed. The ceiling of the furnace room was in poor condition, with many of the tiles having gone missing. Other ceiling tiles were placed in a crooked fashion or had strange scrape marks on them, with big chunks having been torn free.
In the spaces above the missing tiles, the area was dark, with various pipes and wires barely visible by the warm red glow that radiated from the furnace. A steady drip-drip-drip of water came from what must have been a ruptured pipe above, falling atop the furnace.
Most alarming of all, some wires dangled loosely from the holes in the ceiling. The ends of these wires had been terminated roughly, leaving jagged bits of plastic insulation and frayed copper. An occasional burst of sparks surged from the damaged wires, dissipating into the air shortly after formation.
“It’s the gremlins,” Double H said, solemnly shaking her head. “Ever since Jasper’s gone missing, they’ve gotten out of control.”
The sisters glanced at one another, sharing an expression of bewilderment, alarm, and disbelief.
“Uh… what did you say?” Sara asked.
“Gremlins? Do you expect us to believe gremlins are responsible for kidnapping our dad?” Maria demanded.
“Well, ‘gremlins’ is what Jasper likes to call them, but I’ve always thought that was a bit too ominous. I prefer to call them mecha-monkeys. That makes them sound kind of fun – which they were, actually… until recently, of course…” Double H trailed off.
“Where… what… how?” Sara placed one hand against her forehead and rubbed at her temples. She found herself somewhat at a loss as to what to do with this new information. The one thing that she did know for sure was that regardless of the nature of the crisis, their priority was to rescue their father from danger. “Look, lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but we just need to find Dad and make sure he’s okay. Can you help us do that?”
“Of course!” Double H said with an agreeable air. “Just follow me, and we’ll get to the bottom of this soon enough!”
Before the sisters could register what was happening, Double H squeezed into the tight space between the back of the furnace and the concrete wall.
“Hey, wait!” Maria called. “Where are you going?”
“Just follow me!” the caped lunatic called.
“I suppose we don’t have much of a choice,” Sara told her sister. “Sure, it might be dangerous, but we’ve got to follow her, if there’s even a small chance she can help us find Dad.”
“You’re right,” Maria said.
Double H’s voice was fading as she continued moving away. “And bring those tools with you - just in case!”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Sara admitted.
The tools Double H had dropped upon the floor would make fairly substantial weapons, should these so-called gremlins or mecha-monkeys prove to be hostile. Sara hoisted the hammer, while Maria procured the wrench.
The sisters looked at one another and nodded, bracing themselves for whatever lay ahead. This would be far from the first time they had ventured into uncharted territories and faced unknown peril.
Confident in their abilities, and comforted by the presence of one another, they squeezed into the tight space behind the furnace, following Double H as best they could.
Chapter Eighteen
Something This Way Scuttles