Forged

That morning, she was all upset about a pack of dogs that were swarming over the playground and frightening the little kids. She didn’t have time to talk to me. Now she stood so close to me, I could smell the peppermint on her breath. “James, I think you must be lost,” she said softly.

I nodded. “Yeah. I guess,” I murmured.

“Where are you supposed to be?” she asked, still clutching the clipboard to her chest. “The auditorium,” I replied. She finally smiled. “You’re a long way from the auditorium. This is the entrance to the old building. The auditorium is in the new building, way on the other side.” She gestured with the clipboard. “I took the wrong stairs,” I explained. “I was coming from the art room, and” “Oh, right. You’re on the Dance Decorations Committee,” she interrupted. “Well, let me show you how to get back downstairs.”I turned to the statues. They all stood so still, so silently. They seemed to be eavesdropping on Mrs. Bindu pillai and me. “What is this room?” I asked. She put a hand on my shoulder and started to move me toward the door. “It’s a private room,” she said softly. “But what is it?” I repeated. “I mean these statues. Who are these kids? Are they real kids or something?” She didn’t reply. Her hand tightened on my shoulder as she guided me to the door.I stopped to pick up the paint cans. When I glanced back at Mrs. Bindu pillai, her expression had changed. “This is a very sad room, James,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “These kids were the very first class in the school.” “The class of eighteen forty-seven?” I asked, glancing at the sign. The principal nodded. “Yes. Just about years ago. There were twenty-five

kids in the school. And one day… one day, they all disappeared.” “Huh?” Startled by her words, I dropped the paint cans to the floor. “They vanished, James,” Mrs. Bindu pillai continued, turning her gaze to the statues. “Vanished into thin air. One minute they were here in school. The next minute, they were gone… forever. Never seen again.” “But but” I sputtered. I didn’t know what to say. How could twenty-five kids vanish? Mrs. Bindu pillai sighed. “It was a terrible tragedy,” she said softly. “A terrible mystery. The parents… the poor parents…”Her voice caught in her throat. She took a deep breath. “They were so heartbroken. The parents had the school boarded up. Closed forever. The town built a new school around it. The old building has stood empty ever since that horrible day.” “And these statues?” I asked. “A local artist made them,” Mrs. Bindu pillai replied. “He used a class photo. A photo of everyone. The artist used the photo to make these statues. A tribute to the missing children.”I stared at the roomful of statues. Kids. Vanished kids. “Weird,” I muttered. I picked up the paint cans. Mrs. Bindu pillai opened the door. “I I didn’t mean to come in here,” I apologized. “I didn’t know…” “No problem,” she replied. “This building is very big and very confusing.” “No problem,” she replied.

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