The Zombie in the Basement by Anthony Giangregorio Page A

street.
    The three boys picked up the makeshift bases and tossed them into the small shopping carriage they used to transport their stuff.
    Eric looked to Jimmy and Ricky and he shook his head.
    “ Well, guys, unless you have another ball in your pocket, that’s it for stickball forever,” Eric told them.
    “ Why’s that?” Ricky asked. “Can’t you just bring another one tomorrow after school?”
    Eric shook his head no. “Nope, that’s my last one and my dad says he won’t buy me any more. He says I go through them too fast.”
    “ Oh, great, so what then? No more stickball?” Jimmy asked.
    Ricky turned and looked back at the old house and bit his lip, thinking. Finally, as the other two talked about what they were going to do now, Ricky spoke up.
    “ I have an idea, guys. What if I just go get the ball that went into old man Rollin’s yard?”
    “ What? That’s crazy. No one goes in there,” Eric said. “One time I heard a kid went in there to get a Frisbee and he never came out. They still don’t know where he is. The police went and checked, but there was no sign of him.”
    Jimmy began laughing. “Oh, please, Eric, that is such a lie it’s crazy. That never happened.”
    “ Did too,” Eric said.
    “ Oh, yeah? Then when did this happen?”
    Eric looked taken aback and he tried to come up with an answer.
    “ Uh, it was like ten years ago, or maybe fifteen. Yeah, fifteen years ago. You weren’t even born yet so you can’t check.”
    Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Okay, Eric, sure, if you say so.” Then Jimmy’s eyes glanced over Eric’s shoulder to see Ricky walking away from them.
    “ Hey, where you goin’?” Jimmy called.
    “ To go get that ball. That old man doesn’t scare me,” Ricky said.
    Eric and Jimmy both stared at one another, and then with a knowing smile, both boys turned and ran after Ricky.
    If Ricky was actually going to go into the yard of the meanest man on the block, then they wanted to be there to see it.

 
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
    RICKY CROSSED THE street and walked up to the peeling, rusting wrought iron fence. His stomach felt like it had a thousand butterflies all swirling around in there, each one trying to get out. He was scared. Really scared, but he wasn’t about to back down now. Behind him, Jimmy and Eric were chattering like two school girls, each surprised at what Ricky was going to do.
    No one went into the yard of old man Rollin, no one.
    Ricky placed his hands on two of the iron bars, feeling the roughness of the paint. Rust was on more than half the bars, leaving a red dust on the sidewalk below them. Weeds grew through every bar, and when you walked down the sidewalk, you had to walk near the curb
    or they would hit you. And when you had on shorts, the grass would make your bare legs itch.
    Ricky stared through the bars at the house, with its overgrown trees and peeling paint. At night the house was so spooky he wouldn’t even go this close, but now, in the daylight, it wasn’t so bad.
    He knew monsters didn’t like the daylight; they only came out at night.
    “ So, what are you waitin’ for?” Jimmy asked from behind him. “Aren’t you gonna go get the ball?”
    “ Don’t rush me, I’ll go,” Ricky said with a touch of nervousness to his voice.
    “ He’s scared now and he’s gonna chicken out,” Eric said. “You just watch.”
    Ricky turned around to face Eric, his jaw set tight. “I will not! I said I was gonna go in there and I will. I…I’m just thinking of the best way in, is all.”
    Jimmy sneered. “What best way? Just climb over the fence and go get it.”
    Ricky turned back to stare at the yard. “You think he’s got a dog in there? He might.”
    Eric made a raspberry sound. “Oh, please. None of us have ever seen a dog in there. You’re fine, now either get goin’ or say you’re a chicken and we can all go home.”
    Ricky stared at Jimmy defiantly, but he knew his friend was right. Besides, if he backed down now it would