It's All Downhill from Here (2 page)

Maggie sat up and looked outside. Most of the buildings were shuttered.
Those that weren't were dark and already closed for the night. All except one.

“Wait. This is the town?” she cried in disbelief.
“Where's the supermarket? Where's the shoe store?
Where's—”

“There's our dinner!” Mr. Kim interrupted.

He pointed out the front windshield. Just ahead, a single building
appeared open. Light poured from its windows. A blinking neon sign flickered above the
front door. It stayed lit long enough for Maggie to read
CLEM'S CHINESE
KITCHEN
.

“Takeout!” Mr. Kim said. “See, Mags.
Just like home.”

He pulled up to the entrance and opened his door. Blowing snow swirled
into the car. “I'll be right back.”

As Maggie waited for her dad to return with dinner, her mind raced through
all the horrors she anticipated about her new life. No friends, having to start over at
school, a house with guests coming and going all the time. A few minutes later her dad
returned with a big plastic bag.

“Okay, I got egg rolls for everyone, spareribs, beef and broccoli,
veggie lo mein, all your faves, Mags,” Mr. Kim said. “And by the way, Clem
says hi. Says you'll love his Chinese food.”

Maggie couldn't help but smile a little. “Thanks, Dad.”
Her dad was trying, after all. And sometimes, his unshakable optimism could actually be
contagious.

“That's the spirit,” said Mr. Kim as he pulled the car
away from the curb and continued down Main Street. At the edge of the little town, he
turned right and started slowly up a steep hill.

“Just fifteen more minutes up this hill and we're
there!” he said, his excitement growing.

Slipping and sliding a bit on the icy hill, the car
finally made it to a level plateau in the road. A few seconds later an opening in the
trees appeared on the left. Mr. Kim turned and the car rumbled up the long, twisting
driveway.

Ahead Maggie spotted a sprawling mansion. She couldn't believe her
eyes.

“It's just what they call a fixer-upper,” Mr. Kim said
enthusiastically, anticipating everyone's reaction.

“It should be called a tear-it-downer!” Maggie exclaimed.

“Now, Maggie. I—”

“Wait,” Maggie interrupted, pointing to one of the windows on
the first floor. Through the heavy snow she could just make out the face of an old man.
He was staring down at the driveway, glaring directly at their car. The light from the
room he was in illuminated his whole appearance, making him look unnaturally bright.

“There's someone already in the house!” Maggie
cried.

“Where?” Sophie asked, leaning forward.

“Right there!” Maggie shouted, pointing again at a group of windows on the first floor of the house. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag, aimed it toward the house, and quickly snapped a picture.

“I don't see anything, honey,” Mrs. Kim said, squinting through the snow at the house.

Maggie stared straight ahead. The man she had seen was gone. The room that had been lit was dark.

“I don't know where he went, but I
did
see him,” she exclaimed.

“See who?” Simon asked, removing his earbuds, finally deciding to pay attention to his panicked sister.

“I have no idea,” Maggie replied. “I just know I saw
a face. It kinda looked like an old man. Are we sure it's safe to go into this house?”

“Must have been the light from our headlights reflecting in the window,” Mr. Kim said. “It was just a trick of the light.”

“This was no trick. It was a face!”

That was when Maggie remembered the picture she'd just taken.

“Look at this!” she cried.

She scrolled to the picture of the house. The photo was blurry and dark, but she could definitely see something in the window.

“There!” she said triumphantly, holding out her phone for everyone to see. “There he is!”

Simon and Sophie leaned in to get a good look.

“I don't see a face,” Simon said.

“I don't either, Mags,” Sophie agreed. “Maybe it's a reflection that sort of looks like a face, but it really could be anything.”

Maggie leaned forward into the front seat. “Here, look,” she said, holding the phone out so her parents could see.

“I agree with Sophie, honey,” Mrs. Kim said. “I
see something there, but it looks to me like headlights reflecting off the window, creating a strange shape.”

“It's probably just your imagination, honey,” Mr. Kim said, glancing briefly at the photo. “The realtor said that no one has entered this house for a year, and we have the only key. Besides, the alarm system has been on the entire year, and it was never deactivated or set off. The realtor made a point of assuring us of that this morning.”

Maggie felt a chill race through her body.
What if there is someone hiding in the house?
she wondered.
Someone waiting to get us in the middle of the night?
A wave of fear washed over her, and she sank back into her seat.

Mr. Kim pulled the car up to the front door and shut off the engine.

“Welcome to the Wharton Mansion, everybody,” he said. “Or should I call it the future Piney Hill Ski Resort?”

“Don't . . . please,” Maggie said as she stepped from the car and threw her backpack over her shoulder. Her sneakers sank into a snowdrift, soaking her feet. Snow continued to fall as she looked up at the mansion and wiggled her cold, wet toes.

Many windows were cracked. Ancient shutters twisted in the wind, making a squealing, creaking sound that penetrated the stillness of the night.

“Just a few repairs and this place will look like new,” Mr. Kim said, looking up. “Well, let's get inside. The real estate agent said that we should probably be able to get the furnace running. The place is going to be chilly after being empty for so long.”

Mr. Kim led his family to the front door. “This is it,” he said to his wife, kissing her gently on the cheek. “The beginning of a dream come true.”

He punched in the code for the alarm that was next to the doorbell and then put the key in the lock. He grabbed the knob on the front door and turned it. The knob snapped off in his hand with a metallic crunch. He pushed the door and it swung open, creaking and moaning as it moved.

“Well, we'll have to get that fixed,” Mr. Kim said, looking down at the doorknob in his hand. “Come on in, everyone.”

And with that, he entered the house. He walked down the hallway and flipped a light switch. A dusty crystal chandelier blazed to life. The bulbs illuminated
long, stringy cobwebs dangling from the crystals.

“At least the power works,” he said as the others followed him into the dining room. “Simon, girls, just put your bags down over there. We'll check out the bedrooms after we eat. Now, who's hungry?”

Mr. Kim rubbed his hands together excitedly, then carried the bag of takeout over to a long table covered by a sheet.

“Let me get that,” Mrs. Kim said, grabbing a corner of the sheet and pulling it off. A cloud of dust filled the dining room.

“Gross!” Simon choked out between coughs.

“I brought some cleaning supplies, since we didn't know what shape the place would be in,” Mrs. Kim said, pulling furniture polish and some rags from a bag she had brought along. “I'll have that table ready in no time.”

“I'll see if I can get the furnace running while you put out our delicious Chinese feast,” Mr. Kim said.

“Made by my new friend, Clem,” said Maggie.

“Mags, Sophie, why don't you give me a hand downstairs with the furnace?” Mr. Kim continued. “Simon, help your mother set the table.”

“You're kidding, right?” Simon asked.

“What?” Mr. Kim asked, spreading his arms wide. “Only boys should help with the furnace and only girls should set the table? This is the twenty-first century, Simon.”

Maggie and Sophie followed Mr. Kim to the staircase leading down to the cellar. He paused at the top of the stairs.

“Let me just flip this light on,” he said, hitting a switch.

Nothing happened.

Mr. Kim flipped the switch up and down a few more times, but had no luck. “Maggie, can you go get a flashlight from my bag of tools?” he asked.

“Sure,” Maggie replied. She headed back into the dining room, where all the bags had been dropped.

“Done already?” Mrs. Kim asked.

“Nah, Dad needs a flashlight,” Maggie explained.

She knelt down and pulled open the heavy canvas bag in which her dad carried his tools. Back home, it lived in the garage and sat on what passed for a workbench. Before they left for this weekend, he had tossed it into the car, just in case.

Rummaging past screwdrivers of every size, several hammers, rolls of duct tape, and a few unidentifiable objects, Maggie found a flashlight. She snatched it up,
snapped the bag shut, and returned to the top of the cellar stairs, where she handed it to her father.

“Here we go,” he said, aiming the beam down the old wooden stairs. He started down, followed by Maggie, then Sophie.

Maggie felt the staircase shift and creak with each step.

“I don't think these stairs are safe,” she said.

“Sure they are,” her dad replied. “This place hasn't been empty for
that
long. Just hold on to the railing.”

Maggie reached out and grabbed the thin wooden railing that ran down the length of the staircase, and her hand plunged into a sticky mixture of dust and cobwebs.

“Yuck,” she said in disgust, wiping her hand on the wall, only to disturb a spider, which scurried away in annoyance.

The trio reached the bottom of the stairs and followed Mr. Kim's flashlight beam, careful to bend low to avoid getting whacked in the head by the maze of metal ductwork. They came to a hulking metal structure.

“Looks like a furnace to me,” Mr. Kim said as he set the gas valve to “pilot” and handed the flashlight to Sophie. “Just shine the beam down near the bottom. I'll get the pilot light going.”

“What's my job?” Maggie asked, pretending to be interested.

“You watch out for critters,” Mr. Kim said, smiling.

“C-critters?” Maggie stammered. “You mean, like animals? Here in the house?” She glanced left, then right, certain she would spot a ferocious beast ready to spring at her. Fear welled up inside her once again. Between the man she had seen in the window and the possibility of wild animals in the cellar, her nerves were totally on edge.

Mr. Kim knelt at the bottom of the furnace and pulled out a box of long matches. “Let's see. Boy, I haven't seen a furnace like this in . . . well, ever, actually. That pilot light has to be around here somewhere. You know, when I was in college, I—”

A sudden clatter startled Maggie. The sound moved across the cellar toward them, growing louder and louder.

“Dad, someone's down here!” she cried.

Sophie swung the flashlight beam in the direction of the sound. A black cat squinted into the light.

“Critters,” Mr. Kim said. “Told ya.”

Maggie shuddered, partly from the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins, and partly from being
shocked by the thought of sharing her possible new home with stray animals.

“Got it!” Mr. Kim exclaimed as the pilot light caught and a ring of flame raced around the furnace's burner. “There. It should be toasty in here in no time. Come on. Let's go eat!”

As she followed Sophie and her dad up the cellar stairs, Maggie wondered what other surprises awaited them in this house.

In the dining room, Mrs. Kim had done her best to make their first meal in what she hoped would be their new home special. She had sprayed and wiped down the long wooden table with furniture polish. Then she placed a candelabra containing six white candles on the center of the table. When the rest of her family returned from the cellar, she lit all six.

“Grandma's fine china,” Mrs. Kim said as Simon pulled a stack of paper plates from the take-out bag and set one at each chair.

Maggie laughed softly. “She says that every time we use paper plates,” she said to Sophie.

The containers of food and cans of soda came out next.

“Okay, everybody,” Mr. Kim announced, rubbing his palms together. “Dig in!”

Maggie hadn't realized just how hungry she was. Even though the Chinese food was getting cold, it tasted pretty good. The room was silent as everyone shoved forkfuls of food into their mouths.

Mr. Kim raised his soda can. “To our first meal in the Piney Hill Ski Resort,” he announced, offering a toast. “May we look back on this weekend in years to come and remember how this great adventure began.”

Everybody raised their own can and sipped their soda.

“Can we look back on how it ended instead?” Maggie asked and then a forced smile.