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One

The Small Room
     
    Eric Hinkle ran past his mother on his way through the kitchen. He was heading to the back door.
    “Neal and I are going to play soccer in the yard,” he said. “Julie’s coming, too. Gotta go.”
    “Stop.” His mother blocked the door. “Didn’t you forget something, Eric?”
    She held out her hand.
    She was holding empty garbage bags.
    Eric looked at his mother. He looked at the garbage bags. All of a sudden, he remembered.
    “Oh, no! I forgot about the basement!”
    Knock, knock.
    Eric sighed. He pulled the door open. Neal Kroger stepped into the kitchen. Neal lived at the end of Eric’s street. He was Eric’s best friend.
    “Hey, what’s up?” Neal asked.
    “I have to clean the basement,” Eric grumbled.
    Mrs. Hinkle gave Eric the garbage bags. “You know your father wants to start remodeling the basement soon. This was supposed to be your special job.”
    Neal made a face at Eric. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
    “According to my dad, it’s not supposed to be fun,” Eric replied. “It’s supposed to be done.”
    “Give it two hours,” Mrs. Hinkle said. She pointed to the clock. It was two o’clock.
    “Two whole hours?” Eric headed for the basement door.
    “Hey, I’ll help,” said Neal. “We’ll be sort of a team. Maybe we’ll find some cool stuff.”
    Eric smiled. Neal is a true friend, he thought. He’ll even help clean up junk. “Okay. Come on.”
    Eric flicked on the light. The two boys tramped down to the basement.
    On the right side of the stairs was the playroom. It had paneling on the walls, bookcases, a toy chest, a big sofa, and even a television.
    “This looks pretty clean,” Neal said, peeking in. “If my basement was like this, I’d live down here.”
    Eric liked the playroom, too. It was a great place to hang out on rainy days.
    “The playroom isn’t the problem,” Eric said. “Look over here.” He stepped into the other side of the basement. The room on the left side of the stairs. The side his father was going to remodel.
    “What a mess!” Neal said, looking around.
    On one wall was a tool bench filled with jars of nails, nuts, and bolts. On another wall were cabinets lined with canned food. An old washer and drier sat against a third wall.
    And everywhere in between was junk.
    In piles. In bunches. In cartons. In boxes.
    There was even a dusty old chair sitting in the middle of the floor.
    “We’d better get started,” Eric muttered.
    Neal slumped into the chair. “We? Did I say I would help?”
    Eric stared at his friend. “You said we were a team.”
    “I’ll be the coach,” Neal said with a smile.
    Tap, tap!
    A face appeared at the basement window.
    “It’s Julie,” said Eric. He waved. “Come in.”
    Julie Rubin had been friends with Eric and Neal ever since they got stuck in a tree together in kindergarten. Since then, they’d been in all the same classes. They even went to the same summer camp.
    “Hi,” Julie said as she raced down the stairs. She held a soccer ball under her arm.
    “I thought we were going to play,” she said, checking her watch. “It’s only two o’clock.”
    Eric dragged a big toy box out from under the stairs. “Sorry, I’ve got to clean all this stuff up.”
    “And I’m coaching,” Neal said. “Ball, please?”
    Julie passed the ball to Neal and looked around. “It looks like a big job. I’ll help.”
    “How about a little game first?” Neal said. He stood up and bounced the ball once. Then he swung his foot hard. “Heads up, everybody!”
    “Wait!” Eric yelled, ducking behind the box.
    Too late. The ball was already in the air. It bounced off the tool bench and smacked Neal right in the face. “Ow! My nose!”
    “Serves you right!” said Julie.
    The ball bounced off the washing machine and rolled into the shadows by the stairs.
    “I’ll get it!” Julie jumped after the ball, then stopped. “Hey, what’s this?” She

    pointed to a door in the wall under