“Meow!”
With a leap, the white cat jumped off the dresser and wandered toward the open patio door, tail held high. The warming rays of the spring sun touched the bare concrete floor beneath her soft paws. Wild ivy vines adorned the aging patio, from which one could overlook the idyllic but dilapidated former school campus. The cat cheerfully made her way toward her housemate, a middle-aged man who loved sitting quietly outside with a thick blanket over his legs, enjoying the beautiful yet melancholic view.
His hands rested on the black rubber of the giant wheels of his wheelchair, one on each side. Slowly, he let them move forward to enjoy the warmth of the sun-heated rubber beneath his fingertips. Oh, how he loved the warmth of spring. And the peace that came from being surrounded by the awakening green nature, which had already begun to reclaim the school campus and its brick buildings, turning them into a poetic wilderness.
But every silence is interrupted by a sound. And if it wasn’t the cat, who attentively walked past him before disappearing into the tall bushes beyond the patio, then it was the small ball that, after a sudden bounce off the patio’s concrete, landed softly in his lap.
Bewildered, he lifted the ball with one hand and turned his head toward the patio door to discover the source of this little commotion. And there he was: a small boy, barely 7 years old, standing in the doorway with a grin on his face.
"Hey, Shaquan! Do you want to play with me?"
The man smiled back, "Well, not right now. Playing ball is a bit too quick-paced for me in these ruins."
For a brief moment, the boy's face fell in disappointment, but he quickly brightened up with another wide grin.
"Or how about we walk around the school campus together?"
Shaquan sighed, "Are you bored, Daniel?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"But have you finished your study exercises?"
The boy nodded, looking bored, "Yes, I finished them all. Lasa said she'd check them before I move on."
Shaquan scratched his head thoughtfully, "But she's not here. Your father and she went to the next town to buy tools. They'll be gone for a while."
The boy made another frustrated face, "Yeah, exactly!"
The man looked at the boy in silence, and the boy returned the gaze with hopeful expectation.
"Alright, alright, let's go for a walk," Shaquan sighed in resignation, and Daniel jumped for joy. "But...," Shaquan continued in a warning tone, "only on the paths that Lasa and your father have renovated and secured. Nowhere else!"
"Okay! Okay! Only the safe areas," the boy repeated, nodding eagerly.
##
Lasa had given the new residents precise instructions. Only the bright main corridors with access to the classrooms, as well as the staircase, were to be used. The classrooms themselves, the gymnasium, and especially the underground locker rooms were off-limits. If one followed the instructions of the half-blind woman, it was possible to take a walk along the facility via the well-lit corridors with their arched ceilings, without ever needing to enter the numerous rooms and alcoves.
Daniel understood what Lasa was trying to protect the new residents from, and Shaquan trusted the shy and sincere woman enough to follow the rules without needing any special experiences. But the memories of when he and his father first entered the premises still gnawed at the boy. It was eerie, creepy, and yet... familiar. The spirits, this dark magic that inhabited these walls, tugged at his curiosity. Had the initial events already faded too far into the past? How had it been when he saw that strange creature for the first time? Sure, Lasa had handled the situation, simply by looking at the images of the figure herself. Was it really not that bad after all? Did one just have to be as kind and humble as Lasa to get along with them? All these thoughts Daniel pondered quietly as he strolled along the corridors with Shaquan, rolling in the wheelchair.
"Shaquan?" the boy began. The patient man listened intently as he struggled over the uneven tile floor beside Daniel, "Yes, Daniel?"
"You know, I'd really like to see a classroom sometime."
Shaquan sighed, "Daniel, you know Lasa explicitly said we shouldn't do that."
The boy struggled to stay calm, "Yes, but why? Just one look inside can't be that bad."
"With what you and your father have told me, I wouldn't be so sure now. Lasa has her reasons."
"That was just so we wouldn't be frightened. But we've been here longer now and we know the situation."
With a grumble, Shaquan signaled that he understood the boy, but he said nothing in response. Daniel seized the opportunity to press further, "And I've never seen a real classroom. I've only read about them. In the books. How things used to be."
Abruptly, the man stopped and looked at Daniel hopelessly, "Ah, damn it, you're right. You've never experienced anything like that." He sighed deeply and added, "That damn war..."
"...is over, Shaquan! Let me see the classroom."
Shaquan nodded thoughtfully, "Alright, alright... but just a quick look."
They made their way to the nearest closed classroom door in the hallway and stood before it in awe. The boy looked at the man and gestured with his raised hand, silently asking if he should open it. The man nodded without a word. Carefully, Daniel pressed down on the handle. It felt heavy and rusty, but then there was a 'click,' and the lock released. Gently, Daniel pulled on the door, and it opened a crack. Pale air wafted out toward them.
Daniel let the door swing open, and he and Shaquan moved forward slightly, stopping together in the doorway.
In front of them, a bright, spacious classroom unfolded with desks and chairs arranged in neat rows and a teacher's desk on the window side, opposite the classroom door. Large windows, mostly without glass, lined the entire length of the room's outer wall, and behind the teacher's desk hung a green chalkboard.
Daniel inhaled sharply with excitement, "Is that a real chalkboard?" Shaquan confirmed, "Yes, it looks like it is." The boy hurried to the board, marveling at the green, slightly dusty surface, "This is so cool! A real chalkboard." Shaquan glanced around nervously but then shrugged and pushed his wheels forward to follow the boy. "Daniel, do you see any chalk? A white piece, square or round."
The boy quickly searched around the chalkboard and then spotted a small ledge to the left of the board.
Excitedly, Daniel grabbed the piece of chalk and began scribbling on the board. "Look! So bright and white!" Shaquan watched him with fascination. "Yeah, the square pieces create more dust, and therefore they write more boldly. That's why they brought them back." Unfazed by the explanation, the boy continued his experiments on the board.
An idea struck Shaquan. "Wait, I'll show you something interesting that you can only do with the dusty chalk." Daniel paused and handed Shaquan the chalk. Shaquan wheeled himself closer to the board, adjusted the chalk in his fingers, and began drawing a broad line using the side of the chalk. "When you drag it like this, it creates an interesting pattern all on its own."
“Curves are forming! Two curves, even!” Daniel exclaimed.
“Yes, they’re two opposing sine waves,” Shaquan replied calmly.
The boy could barely contain his excitement. “But why? Why does that happen?”
Shaquan paused, trying to come up with an answer. “Phew, I don’t know. Maybe vibrations during friction? I never actually learned the explanation.”
“Maybe Lasa knows?”
“That’s possible. Maybe Lasa, as your teacher, can explain it to you.”
At that moment, a sudden gust of wind blew through, and the classroom door slammed shut with a loud bang. Both of them stared in shock at the closed door when they immediately heard an eerie voice whisper through the room:
<Teacher? You have a teacher?>
Daniel and Shaquan looked around in fear and noticed a dark shadow in the back row of the classroom. It was as if a figure was sitting there.
Daniel trembled with fear, but then he remembered how Lasa had spoken to the weird clown spirit before. Gathering his courage, he spoke loudly, "Yes, we have a teacher."
<Has she left you as well?>
"Left us?" Daniel didn’t understand what the shadow meant at first, but then it dawned on him. "No, not that. We’re here without her permission."
<Without permission?>
"Lasa, my teacher, "can speak with you. But we’re inexperienced ourselves."
<Is Lasa the one-eyed woman?>
Hopeful, Daniel replied, "Yes!"
Feeling the need to say something, Shaquan added, "I apologize, revered shadow. It wasn’t out of disrespect. I just wanted to show the boy a real classroom."
<A real classroom? Why has the student never seen one before?>
"Uh, there was a war, and since then, it’s taking time for everything to work again. Things are difficult around here," Shaquan explained nervously, his voice trembling as he realized, with horror, that the shadow was now rising from its seat and slowly moving toward them. It had the size of a child.
But then a thought came to Daniel, and he found his courage again. "You were a student here, weren't you?"
The shadow drew closer in silence, its outline trembling in bizarre shapes, with a few details becoming clearer. Then, it stopped just a short distance from the two of them.
<Yes, but then some teachers ran. A few stayed with us, whimpering strange things. Then it got bright. Since then, we've been alone.>
Shaquan, visibly shaken, murmured to Daniel, "A hydrogen bomb. These are the children of the school. I've heard of phenomena like this before."
And Daniel whispered back, "But how?" Shaquan waved it off, "I'll explain later." He turned back to the shadow and spoke louder, "Yes, and what happened then?"
The shadow was silent for a moment, its outline trembling in solitude. But then it managed to respond, <They say we died. That's what they say.>
Daniel grew curious, "Who are 'they'?"
<Some of us. The older ones among us.>
Even Shaquan could barely contain his curiosity, "My God, how many of you are there?"
<All of us. All the students.>
##
Thompson should be getting the necessary screws next week. Does that mean we can’t make any more progress on the roof structure until then?"
"I'm afraid so. It doesn’t make much sense to create a temporary fix. But instead, we could plaster the wall in the passageway and adjust the doors in the corridors."
"Okay, then let's..."
Lasa stopped mid-sentence when she suddenly saw Daniel sitting at the kitchen table, completely pale. Alarmed, she asked, "What's wrong, Daniel?"
Huddled up in the chair, Daniel had his arms wrapped around his knees as if he were cold. Shyly, he began, "We talked to them, Lasa."
"Them?"
"Oh, them!" she reacted in surprise.
The boy continued, "Yeah, and uh, we... well, Shaquan and I... we explained their situation to them."
Lasa stared at him in disbelief, but Marc seized the moment to get a confession from his son, "Daniel, why were you even in a situation where you ended up talking to them?"
The boy looked down at the floor in desperation, "I... uh... wanted to see the classroom and convinced Shaquan to come with me."
"Oh, dear," Lasa sighed. Marc wore a stern but composed expression. Both of them knew they shouldn't dwell on the matter. "Where's Shaquan?" Marc asked, concerned.
"He stayed with the children. That was the only way they'd let me go. I'm supposed to bring you, Lasa," the boy explained, visibly shaken.
Lasa regained her focus, slowly realizing what this might be about. "What do they want, Daniel?"
"They want to be alive again."
"We can't do that," she sighed.
"But you're the magician!" the boy exclaimed. "You have to be able to help them somehow!"
Lasa tried to stay as calm as possible. "I'm not really a magician, Daniel. My powers come from this place and only work within it. Outside these walls, I have no power. And if the magic here could bring something back to life, it would have happened already."
"But... but..." the boy stammered, "what are we supposed to do now? They have Shaquan!"
Then a thought occurred to Lasa. "Wait, I think I have something that might interest them." Quickly, the half-blind woman left the room, leaving the father and son puzzled in the kitchen.
"Do you think she'll find a solution, Dad?"
"I don't know. But so far, she always has," the father replied, trying to reassure his son.
##
It must have been hours. At least, that’s how it felt to Shaquan. The light outside already signaled the end of the day. The shadows on the building across the court outside revealed that the sun was nearing the horizon. But he had to hold on. Daniel wouldn’t abandon him.
"So, who’s up for another round of Tic-Tac-Toe?" he asked the group.
"Nah, not me," one of the older kids replied. "I’ve learned that whoever goes first has the best chance of winning."
Shaquan nodded eagerly. "Exactly, that’s the thing with Tic-Tac-Toe. Once you know the game, it’s no longer left to chance. Only with an inexperienced player can the outcome be different."
"Yeah, but then it’s pointless as a game," a younger child interrupted.
"True, it kind of loses its purpose as a game. But there are more complex versions. Like 'Connect Four.'"
"Oh, can you show us that?" a girl called out.
"Of course," Shaquan replied, rolling over to the board. "Do any of you have a piece of chalk? I can draw it out for you."
"Oh, we're out of chalk," a child informed him. Shaquan felt a pang of inner panic, searching his mind for what he could do next to keep the kids entertained.
At that moment, the door swung open, and Lasa entered the room. Behind her followed Marc and Daniel. A countless number of ghostly eyes stared at her, along with two living ones—Shaquan’s.
Calmly, she asked the room, "You wanted to see me?"
A chorus of voices rushed toward her, <Yes.>
"What do you want?"
<We want our lives back.>
"I can't do that," she replied calmly and innocently. No sooner had she spoken than a hollow wail erupted from the countless voices, growing so loud that Shaquan, Marc, and Daniel had to cover their ears.
But Lasa remained unfazed.
As the menacing yet desperate murmuring faded, she began in a calm voice: "But I can offer you something else."
Silence. One of the ghostly children approached Lasa timidly: "What can you give us that is worth as much as life?"
Lasa replied sadly: "I cannot give you anything that equals the value of life. But I can offer you something that adds to the worth of your past life."
Disappointed, the child lowered his head but remained where it stood, waiting to see what proposal Lasa would offer.
The half-blind woman slid her right arm under the left side of her modest knitted vest, reaching into an inner pocket to retrieve an object. The ghostly child looked curiously at the fluttering woolen fabric, trying to glimpse the object.
Then, Lasa pulled the yearbook out that she had once found in the basement and held it out for the child to see: "This is your last yearbook, in which all of you are pictured. Your faces can be seen, and your names can be read. I will place it here in a central spot for eternity, because...."
She paused briefly, giving the child time to look at the book.
"... because, if you allow us, we will reopen the school here in your name."
Speechless, the child stared at the woman, "... reopen the school?"
Lasa nodded encouragingly, "Yes, reopening. And in your name." She added, "If you allow us."
From the shadows of the back rows, a child stepped forward, clearly from an older year group. "We understand. It's not equal to real life, but it's probably the closest thing possible, isn't it?"
Lasa looked at her with a confirming gaze, "Yes, unfortunately, that's all that is possible."
A murmur buzzed through the crowd of ghosts, and finally, the collective voice of the former students rose again,
<We accept.>
Daniel jumped for joy, and Shaquan smiled contentedly, his expression looked touched as he let his gaze drift from one face to another among the deceased students.
Marc gave a relieved yet slightly concerned sigh, "But this will take time. First, we need to secure the building."
And with a reaffirming spirit, the many voices of the dead returned to him, <Of course. We must do that.>
 
 
The End