It's All Downhill from Here (8 page)

Maggie and Sophie stepped back inside. Settling into the living room, they wondered what they would do all day. They definitely didn't want another ghostly encounter. Maggie pulled out her cell phone.

“Ugh, just habit,” she groaned. “No cell phone service here. I forgot for a moment!”

She turned off her phone and booted up her laptop. “Maybe I can glom on to someone's wi-fi.”

“Really, like whose wi-fi?” said Sophie. “A bear's? A raccoon's?”

“Yeah,” Maggie muttered, slamming down the lid of her computer. “Nothing. No cell service, no Internet. What are people supposed to do here? It's like living in the Stone Age.”

“I don't know what you're going to do after you move here,” Sophie said.

“Don't even say those words, Soph. Maybe someone robbed the bank and they don't have any money left to loan to my parents.”

“But for today, there's still lots of house to explore,” Sophie offered.

Maggie's expression changed instantly.

Now that she firmly believed that the house really was being haunted by the ghost of Old Man Wharton, her desire to poke into dark corners had lessened considerably.

“I don't know, Soph,” she said. “After what we saw last night, I'm pretty afraid of this place.”

“Good point,” Sophie said. “Although it definitely seems less creepy here during the day.”

“All right,” Maggie agreed. “But don't walk too far away from me.”

Maggie and Sophie roamed from room to room without finding much of interest at first. Most of the rooms were empty of furniture, filled only with cobwebs and dust.

Then they stepped into what had obviously once
been a grand ballroom. A huge chandelier dangled from the center of the ceiling.

“Wow, Mags, look at this room,” said Sophie, spinning around and lifting her hands to grab the hem of an imaginary ball gown. For a moment, she forgot about Old Man Wharton and her apprehension about being alone in this haunted old mansion. She was swept away by the thought of going to a dance in a ballroom like this one.

Sophie began to waltz around the room. “Can't you just picture fancy parties for beautiful people, with a string quartet playing?”

Maggie joined her, and the two girls danced around the wide-plank wooden floor, spinning and giggling as they went, as imaginary music played beautifully in their heads.

The two friends were suddenly shaken from their fantasy by a crashing sound coming from another room.

“What was that?” Maggie cried, clutching Sophie's arm.

“We are definitely not alone in this house!” Sophie replied, walking slowly to the ballroom door.

She peeked around back out into the hall. She saw no one.

“Where did that crash come from?” Maggie asked.

“Let's go find out,” Sophie said, stepping from the ballroom.

“Wait,” Maggie said, grabbing Sophie's arm. “I'm really scared.”

“But aren't you curious?” Sophie asked. “Not just about what caused that crash, but about the whole ghost thing?”

“I don't know, Soph,” Maggie replied. “All I wanted was to prove to my parents that this place is haunted so they wouldn't buy it. But now that we're alone in the house, I'm terrified. I mean, what if the ghost wants to hurt us? There's no one here to help. It could be hours before Simon or my parents come back. What if something really bad happens? What if—”

“Whoa, slow down. You're working yourself into a frenzy here. Based on everything he's done so far, Old Man Wharton seems more intent on scaring us away than on actually hurting anyone.”

“I just have this terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen today,” Maggie explained. “I can't shake it.”

“Let's go see if we can put that feeling to rest,” Sophie said, taking her friend by the hand and leading her into the hallway.

One by one, the girls opened each door they came to. The first room looked like an art gallery. Huge framed paintings lined the walls. Most of the art depicted beautiful landscapes shown during various seasons.

“These might be worth something,” Sophie said. “And they just left them here.”

“Maybe the cousins who were fighting over the place don't know they're here,” Sophie said. “That Walcott lady said that no one has been in the house since Wharton died.”

The next room contained a grand piano, many music stands still holding sheet music, and a violin, which rested in a corner. Fancy wooden folding chairs were set up as if for a concert.

“Back in the old days, people invited their friends over and played music, just for fun,” Sophie said.

“Life without iPods, huh,” Maggie added, trying to keep her mood up, despite her feelings of dread. They stepped from the room and closed the door.

The two friends continued down the hall. Maggie felt grim again almost instantly.

“We still haven't found whatever it was that made that crashing noise,” she pointed out to Sophie.

“Uh, I think we just did,” Sophie replied, opening
the next door along the hallway and peeking in.

Stepping into the room, they discovered framed photographs hung on the wall and placed on shelves. Sophie pointed to a rectangular shape on the wall, at the top of which hung an empty picture hook. Glancing down, she spotted a framed photo lying on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass.

“There,” she said. “Where that photograph had obviously been hanging for a long time. That's what fell and crashed.”

Maggie hurried over and picked up the photo from the floor. She carefully turned it over. Additional shards of what had been the protective glass tumbled down and shattered.

Maggie and Sophie stared at the black-and-white photograph of two men standing outside in a winter wonderland. The men bore some resemblance to each other. They each had an arm around the other's shoulder. One was much older than the other.

The older one was dressed in a thick sweater and a cap that nearly coverd his eyes. The other was wearing a ski outfit complete with gloves and goggles and clutched a pair of skis, which stood upright in his hand.
It was hard to tell who either was with their caps and goggles on, but Maggie couldn't help but wonder if she'd seen these faces before. She also didn't feel much like thinking about it, not after everything that had been happening.

“Old Man Wharton's ghost must have knocked this off the wall!” Maggie concluded. “And I don't think it's coincidence that of all the pictures in this room, he chose the one that had a skier in it. He's trying to send us a message. Just like Ms. Walcott said. He's upset that my parents are going to turn his home into a ski resort!”

Sophie shivered. “He's not some random spirit that people catch a glimpse of, or a ghost who makes the temperature in a room drop suddenly. Old Man Wharton is walking around knocking pictures off the wall. And specific pictures about a specific subject, too.”

“I don't need to explore anymore, Soph,” Maggie said anxiously. “I think we should just hang out until my parents get back. Then of course we've got to find a way to prove to them that the ghost is real. If we show them this smashed photo, they'll just think I did it.”

The two friends headed back to the kitchen for a little lunch, then hunkered down in the living room, spending
the rest of the afternoon munching on snacks, flipping through magazines, and chatting about school—the one they both currently attended back in the suburbs.

As the afternoon wore on and the light grew dimmer, Maggie thought about her brother.

“Hey, Simon told us he'd be back before sunset,” she said, peering out the window. “The sun's going to drop behind that mountain in a few minutes, so where is he?”

Sophie put down her magazine and joined her friend at the window. The last reddish-orange rays of sunshine spilled out onto the pristine whiteness, sending off a lustrous glow.

“I don't like this, Soph,” Maggie said after a few seconds. “I didn't like it when he left this morning, and I really don't like it now.”

“Let's give him a few more minutes,” Sophie said, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. “He probably just wanted to go on one more run. You know Simon and his skiing.”

“I don't know,” Maggie grumbled. “I have a—”

“I know, a bad feeling about this. Just sit down for a few minutes. Staring out the window isn't going to make him appear.”

Maggie fell into a chair and picked up the magazine
she had been reading. About ten seconds passed before she dropped the magazine onto the table, got up, and looked out the window again.

Still no sign of Simon.

Returning to her chair, Maggie had barely sat down and picked up the magazine when she popped back up. This time when she looked out the window, she saw that the snow had taken on a blue tinge as the last rays of sunlight vanished behind the mountain.

“Something's wrong,” she said. “I know it.”

“What should we do?” Sophie asked.

“I don't know. My parents are due back any moment, and if Simon isn't here when they get home, he's going to be in big trouble. We have to go find him, Soph.”

Maggie slid on her snow boots and slipped into her down jacket.

“Well, I'm not going to let you go out there alone,” Sophie said as she began to bundle herself up.

Maggie grabbed two flashlights and threw them into a backpack. The two stepped out into the cold indigo twilight and trudged off in the direction they had seen Simon go earlier. They soon reached the base of the mountain and began the arduous climb to the top.

Snow crept in over the tops of Maggie's boots, and she felt her toes get cold and wet. The climb grew more difficult with each step. The air got colder and the light faded.

“Simon!” Maggie shouted in a strained voice. Her breath was visible in the frosty air.

“Simon!” Sophie joined in, yelling at the top of her lungs.

The only answer they received was the hollow echo of their own voices bouncing off the mountain.

“Simon!” Maggie shouted again. This time she got an answer, but not the one she was hoping for.

A-OOOOOOOO!
came a fierce howling that sliced through the still, late-afternoon air.

“What is that? What is that?” Maggie cried, panic flooding her entire being.

“Coyotes,” Sophie replied in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Coyotes!” Maggie screamed. “What are they doing here?”

“They
live
here.”

“How do you know what a coyote sounds like? You've lived in the suburbs your whole life, just like me.”

“My uncle has a cabin in the woods a couple hours north of here, remember?” Sophie explained.

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that,” Maggie replied.

A-OOOOOOOO!
The howling came again, louder this time.

“And we spent a week up there last summer. The main entertainment was sitting on the front porch at night, listening to the coyotes howl,” Sophie said.

A-OOOOOOOO!

“Simon! Where are you?” Maggie shrieked, doing her best to continue forcing one foot in front of the other as she made her way up the mountain.

The light was almost gone. Maggie and Sophie were having trouble seeing where they were going.

“Turn on the flashlights,” Maggie said.

Snow started falling.

“Great,” Sophie groaned as her light blazed on. Thick snowflakes shimmered in the beam, picking up in intensity with each strenuous step they took.

“It's really dark,” Sophie said, whipping her flashlight back and forth. It sliced through the falling snow, illuminating only the fact that being able to see was growing more difficult by the second.

“Are we lost?” Sophie asked, sounding scared for the first time. “What if we get lost in the dark and freeze to
death in the snow? What if we fall and break our legs and the coyotes come and—”

“Soph! Stop! Look. We're just about at the top of the mountain. Come on!”

Tapping into some unknown reserve of energy, Maggie picked up her pace, pushing on. A few minutes later, she paused near the top of the mountain.

“Almost there, Soph!” she cried.

Turning back she saw no sign of Sophie.

“Sophie! Where are you?” she called out, her flashlight not much help in the driving snow.

“Right here,” Sophie wheezed, staggering through the snow until she reached Maggie. “You moved too fast. I'm wiped out. Now what?”

“I don't know,” Maggie said, squinting to see better, trying to get her bearings.

“Are we even going to find our way back to the house?” Sophie asked, her voice trembling as much from fear as from the cold. “Are we going to—”

“There!” Maggie cried, pointing her flashlight down at the ground. “Footprints!”

“Simon!” Sophie yelled.

Leading the way, with Sophie straggling along
behind her, Maggie tried to follow the footprints. They led right to the top of the mountain.

“He was here!” Maggie cried. “Simon! Where are you?”

“Look, Mags!” Sophie shouted, pointing just ahead. “The footprints change to ski tracks right there. He must have climbed up to this point, then skied down the other side of the mountain.”

Maggie forced herself to move even faster. Now Sophie was right at her side. Together they rounded the top of the mountain and began to follow the ski tracks down.

The fresh coating of snow made it harder to follow the tracks. It also hid the fact that the slope of the mountain dropped off sharply and suddenly.

Both girls lost their footing at the same moment and started tumbling down the mountain.

“Ahhh!” they both screamed, but their cries of terror were muffled by the pummeling they were receiving as they rolled down the mountain, completely out of control.

“I can't stop!” Maggie cried, growing dizzy as she spun head over heels again and again, bouncing, skidding, and sliding downhill faster than she'd thought she could go.