Gilbert Gets a Call Gilbert Campbell was shelving books at the public library on the Upper West Side when his phone dinged. One new voicemail. His brother''s message was garbled, mixed with static, but Gilbert was able to make out: ". tell you . Important . Whatever you do . Don''t listen to the tapes . Explain more when I .
" This was followed by about thirty seconds of a soft hissing. Gilbert played the message again. Then again. Was there panic in Ant''s voice? Or did it only sound that way because the recording was messed up? It was the week of winter break. Holiday festivities had come and gone. Gilbert and his best friend, Percy, had been planning on playing video games and catching up on their favorite shows, but he hadn''t thought to ask Mrs. Effiong for time off--a bummer, especially since this particular library was up by their school and nowhere near home. His mom and dad were away on vacation, and Grandma Rosemary was visiting.
This wasn''t a bad thing--Grandma Rosemary didn''t mind TV bingeing or video games. In fact, she often joined in. The problem was that whenever their grandmother looked after them, Gilbert''s older brother tended to act out. Whatever you do . Don''t listen to the tapes, Ant had said. Which tapes? Gilbert wondered. Before returning the call, he noticed that Ant''s message was from early that morning--before dawn--but it had only just arrived. Weird.
The line rang and rang. Shivering, he returned to the shelving cart, deciding to grill Ant later. Since his shift was nearly done, only three books were left: The Secret of the Stone Child by Nathaniel Olmstead, The Clue of the Incomplete Corpse by Ogden Kentwall, and something called Elsewhere Gardens by an author named October Bowen. This last one he handed to Mrs. Effiong across the counter. "I''d like to check this out before I go. It''s for my best friend." Percy was a self-proclaimed botanist-in-training.
Once, they''d said, What in the world is more hopeful than a garden? Gilbert loved that. Mrs. Effiong''s big brown eyes glinted as she scanned the copy into his account. Gilbert''s phone dinged again--a message from Percy. Their ears must be burning! My mom wants to know if you can come over for pizza later. Gilbert typed back: Sure! I''d love to have pizza with your mom. Will you be there too? HAR. HAR.
Mrs. Effiong tsked as she slid the book to him. "Gilbert, you know I don''t like our volunteers on their phones--" "I just have to check in with my grandmother. I''ll be quick." When Gilbert pulled up Grandma Rosemary''s contact info, the phone buzzed in his hand. She was calling! Ignoring Mrs. Effiong''s frown, he swiped to answer, to say something about the cheerful coincidence. But his grandma sounded frantic.
"Where have you been? I''ve called and called!" "Service is spotty at the library. What''s wrong?" "It''s Antonio." His brother''s strange voicemail crackled through Gilbert''s memory. "Is he okay?" "Do I sound like he''s okay?" Grandma Rosemary sighed. "I''m sorry, sweetheart. It''s just . he got hurt." "How hurt?" "We''re in intensive care.
Please come." She told him the hospital name. "The entrance is by the river." A map of the city flashed through his frazzled mind. "I''ll catch the bus." "I have to get in touch with your parents--" There was a click. She''d hung up. "Everything all right?" Mrs.
Effiong asked. Gilbert felt like he was floating. His skin had gone all prickly. He thought of Ant''s face--his bulbous nose, stubborn acne, dark fuzz on his chin, curly black hair that faded to the skin just over his ears. Then, Gilbert''s brain did a frightening thing--it covered Ant''s face in red. Wet and sticky. Like in horror movies. "Gilbert?" Mrs.
Effiong''s voice came again. "What''s the matter?" Gilbert clutched the counter''s edge, then slipped Percy''s botanical book under his arm. "My brother . There was an accident. I--I have to go." Mrs. Effiong''s hand drifted toward her mouth. "Is there someone I can call?" "My grandmother wants me at the hospital.
" Gilbert''s voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else. "And my parents are--" "Let me give you cash for a cab." "I have a MetroCard." "I''m not sure I feel comfortable--" "I''ll be fine. Promise." He retrieved his coat and scarf and hat from the chair behind the circulation desk. "You have my cell number?" the librarian asked. Strange how those were the words that should make his eyes sting.
"I do," he answered, fighting to look all business . "Text me when you get where you''re going?" An accident . Intensive care . Big brother . He shook the thoughts away, then tossed a nod to Mrs. Effiong. If he stood there any longer, he knew he''d break. At the landing, he pushed the door open.
Cold air rushed into the library like a gasp. *** Snow flurries started when the crosstown bus finally stopped. Gilbert tugged his scarf tight and trudged to the hospital entrance around the corner. A security guard pointed him to the second floor. Upstairs, Gilbert stepped into a busy corridor. His phone chimed with a new message from Percy. My mom wants to know what toppings you want? Meatballs? Peppers? Olives? Percy! In the rush to get here, Gilbert had forgotten to tell them about Ant''s accident. My brother''s in the hospital.
OMG. Everything all right? I''ll text you in a bit. Percy answered with a bunch of question marks. Gilbert was filled with a bunch of question marks himself. He remembered to text Mrs. Effiong, then crept to the room the security guard had mentioned. The door was open wide. Inside, a dim light hung on the wall over a headboard.
A large silhouette was standing between Gilbert and the room''s occupant. A nurse? A doctor? Gilbert knocked. "Hello?" The figure straightened, then bolted to a hidden corner of the room. Startled, Gilbert grabbed at the door frame and nearly dropped the library book for Percy that he realized he was somehow still holding on to. Finally, he saw his brother, and any notion of the shadowed figure flew out of his head. Tubes and hoses and bags filled with clear liquids hung from hooked stands on either side of the bed where Ant was lying. His eyes were closed. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth.
Gilbert took Ant''s hand. "Wh-what happened to you?" A noise came from behind him. He turned to find a closed door. That shadowed figure . Was this where they''d gone? A small placard read RESTROOM. He looked to his brother. A large bandage covered Ant''s lower left cheek. Another was taped to Ant''s throat, snaking beneath his hospital gown.
The skin around Ant''s eyes was purple with collected blood. The noise came again. Fabric rustling? Wind through air vents? Wings fluttering? "Who''s there?" Gilbert asked. When no answer came, his hope that the person was a nurse or doctor--or even his grandmother--evaporated. Nervous, Gilbert glanced around for something to block the door. The wood-framed chairs in the corner wouldn''t be heavy enough. Then the latch clicked, and the bathroom door opened a crack. A sliver of black.
Gilbert sidled against the wall beside the door, out of the sightline, and listened to the nothingness within. A moment later, he clasped the library book like a baseball bat, yanked the doorknob, and shouted, " Hyah! " A toilet was against the far wall, a chrome handle attached to the tiles, a corner sink stuck beside a cramped shower stall. No one was there. He looked to Ant with a nervous grin. Had he really shouted hyah ? "You''d better not remember that," he whispered. He flicked the bathroom light switch. In the shower stall, a leather satchel sat, sagging in on itself. Curious, Gilbert flipped it open.
Inside, a few objects glinted. Plastic. Angular. He held one of them to the light. At first, he wasn''t sure what to make of it. A rectangular thing no bigger than his own hand. Then, his mind was whipped back to the garbled words of his brother''s voicemail. Don''t listen to the tapes.
These were cassettes--tapes like the ones Grandma Rosemary kept in a box in a cupboard in her living room, next to an old boom box. Gilbert upended the satchel onto the floor. Two more cassette cases clattered out, followed by something larger, heavier. The player was bright yellow. Walkman and AM/FM were stenciled onto its side. A set of headphones slipped out too, attached to the player by a thin black cord. Totally retro. Did the bag belong to Ant? Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Gilbert shoved the bag''s contents back inside, along with the library book. He turned off the bathroom light, t.