The Horror Page 5

  “How could you do such a horrible thing?” she demanded, shuddering.

  “Me?” I squeaked, totally caught off balance.

  “Who else? You’re not going to try to blame Sally are you?” Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me it was Bobby the ghost.”

  “Well—” I stopped, remembering what I’d seen in the mirror. “Actually, I think it was the old lady ghost. I saw her bending over you while you were sleeping—”

  “Whaaat?” Katie’s head whipped around so fast I thought she would hurt her neck.

  “In my mirror. The one on my closet door. It started to glow and then your room appeared and—”

  “That’s it!” Katie threw the brush and I ducked just in time. It skittered across the floor and I saw a little brown spider scurry out from under it. “This is the last straw,” Katie said. “I’ll be calling your parents tomorrow, young man. Until then, get out of my sight!”

  I knew it was no use trying to talk to her when she was like that so I checked on Sally, who had slept through the whole thing, and then went back to my room.

  I sat on the side of the bed thinking.

  Why did the Bobby ghost want to frighten Katie away? She didn’t even believe in ghosts, so she was no danger to him. But then again, it wasn’t just Bobby who had it in for the baby-sitter: The mirror had shown that it was the old lady ghost who put the box on Katie’s pillow.

  Were the little boy and the old witch acting together now?

  The thought stuck in my chest like a sharp stone.

  But what about the image in the mirror? Where had it come from? Somebody had wanted to help Katie.

  One thing seemed clear. Ever since Katie arrived, the pressure was off me and Sally. It seemed like Katie was a magnet for all the angry feelings in the house.

  What did it all mean? Who exactly was haunting this place and why?

  My head was too rattled to think straight. I swung my feet back under the covers.

  I reached up my hand to turn off the lamp.

  Strange. Because I had never turned the lamp on. So how come the room was filled with light?

  I froze, then slowly swiveled my head toward the mirror.

  The mirror was glowing again.

  The mist swirled in the center and then flew apart. Letters formed. They were faint and shaky, hard to read.

  I sat up and concentrated hard.

  HELP ME, it said.

  Slowly the words faded but the mist returned and more words formed.

  SAVE ME.

  The wispy letters slowly dissolved, revealing another image deep in the mirror.

  I squinted, staring with all my might, and saw what looked like a long, narrow staircase. At the top of the stairs a door swung slowly open.

  The attic!

  Then the image faded and the room was dark once again.

  Shivering, I went back to bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

  I didn’t want to go back to the attic. No way.

  And how could I save a ghost?

  How could anyone help a little boy who was already dead?

  20

  It was the itching that woke me up.

  I sat up scratching, blinking at the daylight that flooded the room.

  Itching?

  That’s when I realized that a couple of the spiders must have bitten me, too. You’re not supposed to scratch stuff when it itches, but I couldn’t help it.

  Which made me think of poor Katie, covered with tiny little spiders. Spiders she thought I’d dumped on her bed.

  I jumped out of bed and got dressed quickly. Don’t scratch, you moron. But there was an itching in my brain I couldn’t ignore: Katie had sworn she was going to call my parents and tell them all the horrible tricks I was playing on her.

  Big mistake. That would only make things worse. Something in the house wanted to get rid of Katie, and complaining to my parents wouldn’t change that.

  Remembering what I had seen in the mirror last night, I felt excited. Bobby had asked for my help! This had never happened before. He had always treated me like the enemy.

  But last night something had changed. Even though he didn’t like Katie, he sent me a warning in the mirror. That showed he was on our side—against the old witch.

  And afterwards he asked for help.

  I still didn’t know what he wanted, but one thing seemed to make sense. If I could figure out a way to help Bobby, maybe the haunting would stop.

  This seemed like such a good idea I wanted to tell Katie about it. Especially before she called my parents.

  I hurried downstairs but paused outside the kitchen when I heard Katie’s voice speaking to Sally.

  “You don’t really believe in ghosts, do you?” Katie was saying. “A big girl like you?”

  “No,” Sally answered solemnly. “Not me.”

  “And you know that Bobby is just pretend, right? An imaginary friend?”

  “He’s not imaginary,” Sally replied. “He’s just invisible.”

  It seemed like a good moment for me to interrupt. I poked my head around the corner.

  “Um, good morning, everybody,” I said. I couldn’t believe how wimpy it came out. Even though I hadn’t done anything, I sounded guilty!

  Katie gave me a steely-eyed look. “I’ve decided not to call your parents,” she said abruptly. “I’ll give you one more chance.”

  Turning back to the stove, Katie flipped eggs in the fry pan. “Your mom and dad have important work to do and they’re relying on me,” she said. “I’m not going to let your infantile sense of humor wreck everything.”

  She dumped eggs and bacon on a plate and banged them down in front of me.

  I made a face. It was so unfair! She was so stubborn and closed-minded about everything.

  But I had to convince her. I had to try.

  How could she watch out for Sally if she didn’t believe in the danger?

  “Listen, Katie,” I began. “We need to have a serious talk. There are things you should know about what’s going on here.”

  That’s when Sally started whimpering and fidgeting and wouldn’t stop until Katie picked her up.

  At first I thought Sally just wanted the attention. But when she met my eyes she smiled secretly, as if she’d made a fuss just to interrupt me.

  For some reason Sally didn’t want me warning the baby-sitter about the house—she wanted to keep Katie in the dark.

  21

  Lucy stopped by after breakfast. She had an oversized T-shirt on over her bathing suit and a beach towel slung over her shoulder. Her dark ponytail was pulled through the back of her baseball cap.

  She squinted at me under the brim of the cap. “What’s the matter with you? You’re looking kind of pale.” Her eyes widened. “More ghost stuff?”

  I told her about the mirror and how I’d seen the old lady bending over Katie. But when I got to the part about the spiders, Lucy started laughing so hard she fell down holding her stomach.

  “Stop it,” I said, “or I won’t tell you the rest.”

  “I can’t help it,” she gasped, clutching her side. “You shooing the spiders out the window and poor Katie with bugs in that beautiful red hair, it’s very funny.”

  “There’s more,” I said.

  Lucy suddenly looked serious. “I should have known,” she said.

  “When I got back to my room the mirror started glowing again,” I said, describing the message and the image of the attic stairs.

  Lucy shivered a little even though the sun was hot. “What does it mean?” she asked.

  “I guess Bobby thinks I can find something in the attic that will help him. Somehow.”

  “How do you know it’s Bobby?” asked Lucy, squinting at the house intently. “It might be another trick. The house trying to get you into the attic.”

  I shivered. “Maybe you’re right. Whatever, I’m not going up into that attic, no matter what.”

  “Forget it,” Lucy suggested. “What you
need is a dip in the lake.”

  She raced me to the lake and won, but only because I tripped over my Nikes like an idiot and fell flat on my face. I made up for it by outswimming her to the raft and back.

  The water was warm and clear and it seemed to make my head clear, too. What was I doing letting bad dream stuff ruin my summer vacation?

  The house was haunted, sure, but it hadn’t hurt us yet. All it could do was try to scare us away. And a thing can’t scare you if you won’t let it, right?

  Right?

  I came back from the lake feeling refreshed. Nothing was going to scare me—not a lot of noises in the night, or spooky laughter in the walls. No way.

  “Come on in,” I said to Lucy. “I’ll ask Katie if you can stay for lunch.”

  I knew something was wrong as soon as we entered the front hall. The house seemed to suck up sunlight like a black hole. Dust hung in the air, making the place look even more dreary than usual.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone has changed a thing in this place for a hundred years,” Lucy said in a hushed voice. “This house doesn’t need a ghost to be creepy.”

  “Katie!” I called out. “We’re home!”

  “Sally!” I called out. “Are you here?”

  There was no answer.

  “What’s that?” Lucy whispered.

  I listened. At first I didn’t hear it. Then it came again.

  A moan, from deep inside the walls.

  A ghostly moan, like something trapped in a tomb.

  22

  As we went up the stairs, Lucy grabbed hold of my hand and wouldn’t let go.

  The moaning noise had stopped but I knew it wasn’t over. It was like the old house was holding its breath.

  I’d never known that silence could be so loud.

  I tensed when we got to Sally’s room, expecting the worst. As I pushed the door open the creaking noise from the hinge went through me like a jolt of electricity.

  Beside me Lucy gave a little gasp.

  “Thank goodness,” she said, sighing with relief.

  Sally was sound asleep on her bed. She was hugging Winky, her stuffed rabbit.

  I gently closed the door. Glad that somebody could sleep around here.

  “ARRRGGH.”

  A long, low moan froze us in our tracks.

  Lucy went white and her eyes were as big as Oreos.

  “It—it’s coming from up there,” Lucy said, pointing at the ceiling.

  She was right. The ghostly moaning was coming from the attic.

  “It sounds like somebody is hurt,” Lucy whispered.

  “Maybe that’s what it wants us to think,” I said.

  Lucy got a very determined look on her face. “We’ve got to check it out,” she said.

  My mind resisted. But I couldn’t let Lucy go alone.

  “Okay,” I sighed. “Let’s get it over with.”

  When I opened the door to the attic stairway, shadows seemed to spill out, dimming the hallway.

  “This is a really bad idea,” I said. But I started up the stairway. My Nikes made squeaky noises on the bare wooden steps.

  It was hard making myself go up those stairs. It was as if lead diving weights had been attached to my feet, holding me back.

  “Uuurrrggg.”

  The strange sound went right through me.

  I turned around to run back down the stairs and bumped into Lucy. I could tell she was just as scared as me.

  “What do we do?” she whispered.

  The seconds ticked away like blood dripping. I braced for another cry, but the attic stayed quiet.

  “Come on,” I said, leading the way. “We’re acting like boneheads.”

  I trooped up to the top of the stairs before I could change my mind and barged right through the door into the attic.

  Suddenly I was blind. I couldn’t see.

  I was choking on dust and the sunlight was blasting in like a laser beam. Behind me Lucy was coughing and choking.

  The moaning noise came again, louder.

  By now it sounded almost familiar. It wasn’t coming through the walls, it was right in the room with us. Only we couldn’t see because of all the dust in the air.

  “Jason, help me. Help me please.”

  I knew that voice. It wasn’t the ghost, it was Katie.

  “Over here,” she said, sounding weak. “I’m trapped.”

  I kept squinting and after a while I could see through the dust. A big wooden beam had come crashing down from inside the roof, smashing into the plaster walls.

  And under the beam was Katie.

  All I could see at first was a pink sandal sticking out from under the beam. It looked really bad. Then I saw her toes wiggle.

  “Give me a hand,” I said to Lucy.

  We both grabbed the end of the beam and managed to shift it over, away from where Katie was trapped.

  “Are you okay?”

  Katie crawled out from under the wrecked plaster. At first I thought her red hair had turned white—then I realized it was all the plaster dust.

  We helped Katie to her feet. She heaved a huge sigh. “Thanks, guys. It feels so good to breathe again. It was awful to hear you calling me and not be able to answer.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Katie winced a little and limped away from the wreckage. “Just bruised, I think. I’ll tell you about it downstairs. I don’t want to spend another second up here.”

  Lucy and I helped her down the stairs from the attic. She looked pretty weird with all that white stuff in her hair, but for some reason I didn’t feel like laughing. That beam that had fallen on her was big and heavy.

  She was lucky to be alive.

  23

  The first thing Katie did when we got downstairs was wash her face in the sink and then get a big glass of water. She drank the whole glassful, sighed, and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Something very weird happened,” she said. “I saw this little boy on the stairs. He had very pale skin and he was about Sally’s age. And he was dressed in old-fashioned clothes.”

  “The ghost!” I exclaimed. “You really saw him?”

  Katie frowned, then slowly nodded. “He beckoned to me,” she said. “He looked so sad, I wanted to help him. So I followed him down the hall to the attic stairway. It was like he disappeared through the door, but that may have been my eyes playing tricks on me.”

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  “The door opened. Someone called my name from up in the attic. At first I thought it was you, playing tricks again. But it wasn’t your voice. Anyhow, I went up into the attic. There was nobody there. At least not that I could see. Then I heard a noise behind me—like someone was standing there out of sight. I whirled around and that’s when the roof came crashing down on me.”

  “It wasn’t the whole roof,” I said. “Just one beam and part of the ceiling.”

  “Well, it sure felt like the whole roof. I couldn’t move. I tried shouting for you but you didn’t hear me.”

  I said, “We were down at the lake. And Sally was sound asleep. It’s a good thing we came back when we did.”

  Katie nodded and took another drink of water. “It sure is,” she said. “But that’s not all. When I was pinned under the beam someone came into the room. I could hear the footsteps. And then whoever it was started laughing.”

  “Laughing?” I said.

  “It was horrible,” Katie said with a shudder. “Horrible laughter. Cackling, like some old witch.”

  I jumped up from the table. “That was her! The old witch ghost!”

  Katie gave me a strange look. “There was something else,” she said. “She smelled terrible.”

  “What do you mean, terrible?” I asked.

  Katie looked at both of us. She took a deep breath and said, “She smelled like she was … dead.”

  24

  That night I went to bed with the lights on. Taking no chances. I
didn’t even bother with pajamas, I just got under the covers with my clothes on.

  No way was I going to fall asleep. Bad things happened when you fell asleep in this house.

  So I sat up in bed and read a pretty cool sci-fi story, figuring that would keep me awake. And I ate peanut butter crackers, because the crumbs in the sheets would help keep me awake, too.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have. Because the next thing I knew the grandfather clock was chiming and I woke up with a start. Every muscle in my body was tense.

  And the lights were out. I’d left them on, but now it was pitch black.

  The clock.

  BONGGGGGG. BONGGGGG. BONGGGGG.

  In the daytime it was broken. It only came to life at night, when something terrible was about to happen.

  I lay rigid as a board, waiting. Waiting.

  There wasn’t long to wait. It was the same thing I’d heard before.

  First a child crying, sounding scared and angry. Calling his mother.

  “Mom-meeeeeeeeeeee.” A child’s voice echoing from the grave.

  Then the patter of tiny running footsteps. A child running down the hallway outside my door.

  And chasing him, heavier footsteps. Thump-thump-thump.

  I heard the child panting, out of breath.

  But still he came running, closer and closer.

  It sounded like the panting was in my room. I could hear his frightened breath tearing from his chest—right beside my ear.

  I bolted up in bed.

  There was no one there. The room was dark and still.

  Out in the hall the footsteps kept coming.

  They ended in a sharp scream—aaahhhhhhhhhh!—as the boy went hurtling over the banister.

  And there came the sickening thud of a small body hitting the floor.

  My heart was pounding.

  I lay down and pulled the covers over my head. The crying would start again soon but I wouldn’t get up.

  No way. I was staying right here in my bed.

  Listening to the little boy’s ghost was horrible but it no longer scared me. There was nothing I could do to make it stop. To make it better.

  I closed my eyes tight.

  Out in the hall a door opened.