The Horror (6 page)

And it wasn't Sally's bedroom, it was Katie's! I recognized her four-poster bed and the flowered wallpaper and could even see a dark blob that must be her head on the pillow.

In the mirror the old witch-thing was bending over Katie.

I watched helplessly as a long bony claw reached out, sharp bony fingers stretching toward Katie's sleeping head.

Then suddenly there was a popping sound and the mirror flashed and went blank.

My room was plunged into total darkness.

From somewhere in the house came a long, piercing shriek of terror.

“Aaahhhheeeee!”

The scream was cut off.

But the house was not quiet. No, the house wasn't quiet at all.

19

There was a charge in the air. As if the house was getting ready for something big.

Like anything could happen.

Doors creaked. Floorboards moaned. Shadows flitted like tiny bats, just out of sight. There were little whispery noises in the walls, like scratchy fingernails inside the plaster.

Suddenly I could move again.

I wanted to grab my blanket, wake Sally, and get out of here. But first I had to help Katie. I had to.

I could hear her—or someone—thrashing around in her room.

And then another scream ripped the air.

I was out of my room and running down the hall. Running in the dark, my heart pounding in my chest.

I threw open Katie's door.

She had the light on and she was stamping and hopping as if something was biting her ankles. She was tearing at her hair and making high-pitched, yipping noises.

But there was no sign of the old lady ghoul. Just Katie tearing wildly at herself.

“Katie!” I shouted. “What's wrong?”

She whipped her head toward me. Her eyes were rolling with fright.

“Get them out of here,” she screamed. “They're in my hair! All over the bed!”

I looked past her at the bed. There was a small box lying open on her pillow. Little brown dots were climbing out of the box and lots more of them were scurrying in every direction, all over Katie's bed and pillow.

I moved a little closer to see what they were.

Spiders! Hundreds of tiny brown spiders. Someone had dumped them all over Katie and her bed. Was it the old witch ghost I'd seen in the mirror?

“Get them out of here!” screamed Katie again, slapping at her ankles and arms and pawing at her head.

I grabbed up the box and started trying to brush the spiders back into it. But there were too many. They kept running out and crawling over my hands and up my arms.

“Kill them!” yelled Katie. She yanked the pillow off the bed and threw it on the floor.

It wasn't the spiders' fault, I thought. But Katie was in no condition to listen to reason.

So I opened her window, took off the screen, and then bundled up her sheets and blanket and threw them out to the grass below.

“The pillow,” she insisted, so I tossed that out and then the little box, too, although I didn't think any spiders were left in it.

Then, it couldn't be helped, any spiders that weren't quick enough to scurry into a crack got stomped. Good-bye little bugs, see you in spider heaven.

After I got rid of all the spiders, Katie snatched up a hairbrush and began brushing her hair so hard I thought she'd pull it all out.

“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.”