Brandon Terrell - The Cursed Stage

All was quiet in the darkened aisles of The Comic Vault. The store had been closedfor over an hour. Its shelves of mint-condition, bagged comic books were draped inshadow. Its life-size cardboard cutouts of action heroes like Metal Miracle, Zom-Borg,and Arachno-Boy stood in the stores large glass window.

And then the creaking sound of the door opening interrupted the quiet shop. A shadowslunk through the door and closed it silently behind him. Beeps and blips made musicin the dark as the stores security system was deactivated.

Weve got movement. The whisper came from the cramped confines of the comic shopsjanitors closet, where twelve-year-old Hayden Williams stared at the tablet screenin front of her. The screen was split into four separate squares, which showed thevideo feed from the security cameras shed set up in the shop.

The shadow, unaware of the cameras, moved through the aisle of back issues.

Next to Hayden, thirteen-year-old Keisha Turner leaned in. Bingo, Keisha said,her excited eyes lit by the tablets blue glow.

Oh man, I love , Haydens twin brother, Jaden, said. He flipped closedthe issue of Ghost Pirates hed been reading and placed it atop the stack of comicsbeside him. A strip of red licorice hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

The trio huddled together and watched as the shadowy figure crept toward the storesglass counter, where all of the valuable comics were stored. A single comic lay nextto the stores cash register.

Hes going right for the decoy, Jaden said excitedly.

Our plan is working, Keisha said.

The team had been hired by The Comic Vaults owner, Burl Nicholson. The young detectivesliked Burl. He was like a big teddy bear with a full, bushy beard. He let the ganghang out in his store for as long as they wanted.

Burl was suspicious that one of his employees, a skinny man named George, was stealingvaluable comics and reselling them online. So Hayden had printed out a fake copyof Action Man #1. In mint condition, the issue was worth nearly $1,000. Earlier thatday, Jaden had brought the comic into the store. Hed sold it to a nervous-lookingGeorge for just a few bucks.

Looks like Burl was right about George, Jaden said as the shadowy figure snatchedthe fake comic off the counter.

Time to shine a little light on the situation, Hayden said coyly. She tapped abutton on her tablet just as Keisha shouldered open the closet door.

Brilliant light filled every corner of the store. Music blared through the speakers,playing the theme song from the Arachno-Boy cartoon.

George stood by the counter, a frozen statue of fright. His wide eyes looked terrified.His hands clutched the fake Action Man comic. Keisha dashed forward, past shelvesof old plastic robots and giant lizard toys. Hayden and Jaden poured out of the closetafter her.

Stop right there! Keisha yelled.

But George didnt stop. His instincts kicked in, and the skinny thief panicked andbolted for the stores front door. He wove down one aisle, past the statues and cardboardcutouts.

As he did, one of the cutouts Action Man himself, his cape billowing jumped outin front of him.

Ahhhh! Georges high-pitched scream echoed through the empty comic book shop. Hestumbled back and fell to the floor. The fake issue of Action Man slipped from hishand, landing next to him.

Halt, Action Man said. By the order of Action Man, protector of Cy-ton 5, defenderof Earth!

Nice goin, Action Man, Jaden said as he, Hayden, and Keisha approached.

Really getting into character, arent you? Keisha joked.

Action Man stepped out of the shadows. Only he was not an alien sent from a distantplanet to protect Earth. The superhero standing before them was actually fourteen-year-oldCarlos Diaz, leader of the squad of kid detectives.

Carlos smiled wide. Hey, man, he said. I always wanted to be a superhero.

George, still dazed and seated on the floor, looked up at the quartet. Who...who are you?

Carlos placed his hands on his hips triumphantly. Were the protectors of localcomic shops and defenders of the law, he said. Youve just been busted by Snoops,Incorporated.

Keisha shook her head. Dude, thats cheesy. Even for you.

Hurry! Keisha said, looking over her shoulder at Carlos. Were already gonna belate.

The following afternoon the two teens hurried through the halls of Fleischman MiddleSchool. Draped in the seventh-grade girls arms were a whole closets worth of brightlycolored coats and ruffled dresses.

Im moving as fast as I can, Carlos said, peering around the stack of shoe boxesand hatboxes he was carrying. What do we have to hurry for anyway?

I told Alyssa wed bring these costumes to the auditorium before play practice started,she explained. Peering at the clock on the schools wall, she added, Which was aboutfive minutes ago.

Okay, okay. Carlos shifted the weight of the teetering boxes as he quickened hispace. The eighth grader managed to keep up, but the boxes nearly tumbled to the floor.

Alyssa Wentworth was the stage manager for the schools drama club. She and Keishahad been friends since they were in kindergarten together, when theyd been the onlytwo kids who could cross the playgrounds monkey bars without falling.

Keisha swung left as the hallway ended in a T. Ahead of her, she could now see thedouble-door entrance to the schools auditorium. A man in a blue coverall uniformand baseball cap stood near the door, hanging something on the wall.

Hi, Mr. Ron, Keisha said. Mr. Ron, the school janitor, turned as Keisha and Carlosbreezed up. He had a thick gray mustache and piercing blue eyes. As he moved, thehuge ring of keys on his belt jangled like a musical instrument.

Why, hello, Mr. Ron said. He twirled a screwdriver in his hand.

Can you get the door, please? Keisha barreled forward.

Oh sure, Mr. Ron said. He reached over and pulled on the metal bar of the nearestdoor. It yawned open, revealing a darkened auditorium.

Thanks! Keisha made her way into the auditorium, trying to be as quiet as possible.A spotlight blazed to life, casting its glow on the stage. Large, wooden flats paintedto look like buildings in an old Western town lined the back of the stage.

As Keisha slunk in, a loud crashing sound rumbled behind her.

Aw, man! Carlos frustrated shout filled the auditorium. Two kids on the stage,dressed as wild west lawmen and practicing their lines, looked up.

Sorry, Keisha hissed, laying her armload of costumes across the back row of redauditorium seats and slipping back out into the hall.

Boxes lay scattered across the floor. Carlos was down on one knee, gathering themup. Mr. Ron helped. I just... I didnt see your cart, Carlos said. A cart filledwith cleaning supplies, a bucket, and a mop sat nearby. I didnt mean to trip overit. Im sorry.

Its all right, Mr. Ron said.

As they picked up the boxes, Keishas eyes wandered over to the display case on thewall. The glass case held a bunch of collectables from past performances by the dramaclub.

At least, it used to. What she saw staring back at her now wasnt old posters andtrophies. It was her ex-best friend, Frankie Dixon.