The Stone Child by Dan Poblocki

appeared between the door and the frame. The awful smell grew stronger—rotting food mixed with the scent of musty old books.
    Creee …
    “Ugh! They need to fix this thing,” said Eddie, glaring atthe door. He brought his foot back, then kicked the door as hard as he could. It swung, but before it could slam shut, it stopped with a dull thud. Something just inside the basement archway cried out in a loud, rough shriek. This new sound was not squeaking hinges.
    “What … was that?” said Harris.
    Before Eddie could answer, the door began to open again, this time more quickly. The gap grew wider as the darkness inside the basement revealed itself to him. Instinctively, Eddie reached out his hand and stopped the door. He began to push it closed.
    But something pushed back.
    Wide-eyed, Eddie pressed all his weight against the metal door. It slammed shut with another
wham!
Eddie turned around and leaned his bag against it. He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. Harris stared at him. Then the door rattled as whatever was on the other side gave it one hard jolt. Eddie screamed and pressed his back into the metal, his feet sliding on the slippery ground.
    The night was quiet for a moment. Harris shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eddie was thrown forward as the thing in the basement resumed its assault. Harris slammed himself against the door, stopping it from swinging wide open. Eddie recovered, and the two boys pressed it shut with all their strength. The door bounced again andagain as the thing on the other side fought back, ferociously trying to escape. Then suddenly it stopped.
    After a moment, Harris whispered through his teeth, “You picked that flower.”
    “Yeah, but not on purpose!”
    “
So what?”
Harris said. “You shouldn’t have come down here.”
    “I was looking for clues to the code!”
    “We already knew that some of the things in Nathaniel Olmstead’s books were real. Thanks to you, we know the Gremlin’s Tongue
gremlin
is real too!”
    Eddie knew Harris was right. He shuddered, imagining the creature listening to them from the other side of the door, inches away. They wouldn’t be able to stand there holding the door shut forever, especially if the pounding started again. Even though he hadn’t meant to pick the flower, Eddie’s face flushed in shame. He should have been more careful. Anyone who’d read Nathaniel Olmstead’s books knew that to pick a Gremlin’s Tongue would release its keeper.
    At least now Eddie knew the Olmstead Curse was most definitely real—not that he’d had many doubts after what happened at the lake in the woods. “I don’t hear anything,” he said. “Is it gone?”
    Harris pressed his ear to the door. He listened for a moment, nodded, then said, “Now might be our only chance.”
    “To do what?”
    “
Run,”
Harris whispered, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and pulling him away from the door.
    Cold air rushed into Eddie’s lungs as he took a huge breath and raced up the stairs behind Harris. By the time they reached the top, the door at the bottom had swung open again.
    Wham!
    Eddie didn’t wait to see what had been behind it. Together, the boys ran toward the front of the library, their feet smacking against the concrete sidewalk. They dashed around the corner toward the main entrance. Eddie’s own bike sat quietly next to the rhododendrons. He noticed that Harris had chained his bike to the rack. No time to unlock it. As they raced up the front steps, Eddie whispered, “Please be open. Please be open. Please be open.” He stretched out his arms to push the front door, but just as he was about to fling the full force of his weight against it, the door swung inward.
    “Ugh!” two voices cried in unison, as together Eddie and the person on the other side of the door tumbled to the floor.
    Harris scrambled into the library behind them. He slammed the door shut and leaned his weight against it, panting.
    After a moment, Eddie