The Old Willis Place (13 page)

"Diana, listen to me! Don't run away!"

This close, her face was the color of bone. Her eyes were sunken and shadowy, but they glittered with rage. She shook me fiercely "Where's Georgie?"

"Let me go,"I sobbed,"let me go. I'm not Diana!"

She tightened her grip and leaned closer to me. Her breath smelled like her house, old and dank. The wind tugged at her dress. "I know you," she whispered."You re the girl who let me out, the one who changed everything. Should I thank you? Or curse you?" She paused a moment and grinned. "Or should I lock you in the cellar?"

Somehow, I broke free and ran toward the trailer. Behind me, I heard a horrible witchy laugh. "Stupid girl,"she cried. "Did I scare you?

I didn't know if she was chasing me or not. I was scared to look back. Screaming and crying for my father, I flung open the front door and kicked it shut behind me. Exhausted, I collapsed and lay on the floor, too scared to move.

After a while, I heard someone thumping on the door. I covered my ears and stayed where I was. It was her,
I
knew it was. Shed come to lock me in the cellar.

"Lissa, let me in! "Dadyelled.

I got to myjeet and staggered to the door. I was scared to open it. What if Miss Willis was still there? Would she hurt Dad? My hands shook so much
I
could hardly turn the knob.

He stepped inside, bringing cold air with him. I threw my arms around him and kept on crying. He patted my back and smoothed my hair, but I could feel him trembling.

"Oh, Lissa, Lissa," he whispered. "I found the room just where Diana said it would be. It was terrible ... terrible."

His voice broke and he sank down on the couch. He looked awful, Dee Dee, like he'd just seen the most horrible thing you can imagine. I think he was as scared as I was. And close to tears, too, Dee Dee, which frightened me even more. I hadn't seen my father cry since Mom died.

"How could anyone do something like that?"he asked in a shaky voice. "Those poor children, those poor little children, left there like that, locked in, abandoned."

He hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe. When he let me go, neither of us said anything. We just sat there. I guess we were in a state of shock. The wind was blowing so hard the trailer shook.

I was sure I heard Miss Willis out there. And so did MacDuff. He kept pacing around, whimpering and whining the way he does when he's nervous about something. Dad told him to lie down, but he wouldn't.

After a while, Dad said I looked exhausted. He was right. I was so tired I ached all over like I had the flu. He made me go to bed and fixed me tea and sat down beside me while I drank it. He'd made it with lemon and honey and it tasted so good.

Then he called the police and told them what he'd found in the cellar. I listened to his voice, still shaking as he talked. He said it was no wonder the children were never found. Someone had piled boxes and old furniture in front of the door to the room.

There was a pause and then Dad said, "Yes, I agree. It must have been Miss Willis. Who else could have done it?"

After he hung up, he came back to my room and sat with me for a while. It was dark by then, and the snow blew past my window in a pale blur. My room looked safe and cozy, but I didn't feel all that secure. Not with Miss Willis out there looking for Diana and Georgie. I hoped they felt safer than I did. But I doubt it.

"The police will be here early tomorrow,"Dad said. "They'll see to it that the children are properly buried."

That made us both feel a little better, I think.

I tried to tell Dad what I knew about Miss Willis, but he said, "Hush, hush, let's not think about that old woman anymore. She'll give us nightmares for sure." He hugged me and kissed my forehead and tucked me under the covers, all tight and snug and warm.

MacDuff came to my room and jumped up on my bed. Dad usually chases him off, but tonight he said he could stay. MacDuff is the best old dog in the world, but even with him right here beside me I'm still scared.

I wish the wind would stop. I wish it was morning. I wish we
lived in one of those nice little houses across the highway. I wish Diana lived there, too, and we went to the same school and took gymnastics together.

Most of all, I wish those children hadn't died in that cellar. They must have been so scared, Dee Dee.

Love, Lissa

Chapter 16

When Georgie and I woke in the morning, the falling snow hung like gauze between the mouth of the cave and the ravine, blurring rocks and trees, earth and sky. The only sounds were the gurgle of the creek and the wind, now a soft murmur.

Georgie peered out at the snow, at least a foot deep already, and laughed. "No school today!"

It was a joke of long standing now, left from the time when we'd actually gone to school and celebrated days off.

Nero sat at the cave's entrance, his displeasure evident. He looked at me as if to say, "What sort of bad joke is this?"

"The little mousies are safe from you today," I told him.

Nero twitched his tail and stalked to the back of the cave. There he snuggled in the blankets and watched the snow through slitted eyes.

"Do you think the police will come in this weather?" Georgie asked me.

The night before, I'd told him what I'd asked Lissa to do. I'd thought he'd be angry, but he'd listened calmly. "It's the first step." He'd tapped the side of his head. "I feel it here. You know, like the rules."

Now the two of us watched the snow fall: barefoot, barelegged Georgie, half naked, with feathers in his hair; me with my long braid, and Lissa's sweatshirt over Miss Lilian's flowered skirt. Neither of us knew what to expect next or how to prepare. Without saying a word, we left the cave and walked through the snow toward the house. We had to see the police come. We had to watch them go, too. We had to be sure.

We met Lissa and MacDuff halfway down the driveway. She ran to us, her face pale despite the wind and snow. "I've been looking for you," she cried. "I was scared she might have gotten you last night."

Lissa didn't need to say the name. We knew who she meant. "We heard her," I said. "She came close a few times."

"Old witch," Georgie muttered. "She won't get us again."

Lissa breathed a sigh of relief. "She caught me last night. She thought I was you, Diana."

For once, Georgie looked at Lissa without sneering. "How did you get away?" he asked.

Lissa shook her head. "I guess she wanted Diana, not me.

"I bet you were scared," Georgie said, some of his old scorn returning.

"I was terrified." Lissa began crying. "Dad went to the house to look for the children's bodies, and I got scared and followed him. That's when she grabbed me. She was so horrible...."

I hugged her as if she were a little child, years younger than I was. "I told you she wouldn't hurt you," I whispered.

"Did your father find the children's bodies?" Georgie asked.

Lissa nodded. "Just where Diana said they'd be. He called the police. They're supposed to come today." She looked around doubtfully. "But with all this snow..."

I drew in my breath and took Georgie's hand. There was no turning back now. Whatever I'd begun the day I met Lissa had to run its course.

"I see them." Georgie pointed down the driveway.

The three of us ducked behind a tree. Led by a police car, a hearse made its way slowly toward us.

"It's the same one that took Miss Lilian away," Georgie said.

"How do you know that?" Lissa asked.

"All hearses look the same." I spoke quickly to keep Georgie from saying anything else. "That's what he means."

Georgie frowned, but he didn't argue as I'd feared he might. Instead, he gave Lissa a sassy look, which she ignored. The two of them would never be friends.

The police car passed us, its lights flashing. An officer in the passenger seat was drinking coffee from a paper cup. The other was intent on driving. Behind them the hearse slipped and slid, but the driver managed to keep it on the driveway.

"Where do you suppose they'll take us?" Georgie asked me.

"The police aren't going to take you anywhere," Lissa said. "They've come for the children's bodies, not for you."

Georgie drew closer to me. "You think you're so smart," he told Lissa scornfully. "But you don't know anything."

"Shh," I warned him as softly as I could.

The wind whipped Lissa's hair around her face, and she hunched her shoulders against the cold. From the looks of her, she was scared and cold—and very unhappy.

The silence between us grew. We were alone in the trees. The police car and the hearse had vanished around a bend in the drive. Every now and then, we could hear tires spin in the snow.

"Let's not fight any more, Georgie," Lissa said. "I'm sorry for all the dumb things I've said and done. Dad says I'm too prickly. I guess he's right."

I looked at my brother. "You're sort of prickly yourself, you know."

"So what if I am?" He scooped up a handful of snow and hurled it at a tree—
splat.
"I could've thrown it at you," he told Lissa with a grin, "but I didn't."

Lissa smiled. "It's good you didn't," she said. "My dad taught me how to make a really hard snowball."

Georgie touched my hand. "Come on."

With MacDuff bounding ahead, we plodded on through the snow until the house was in sight. Georgie pulled me behind a huge oak. Lissa hid with us, pressed beside me.

The hearse and the police car, its lights still flashing, were parked by the front steps. The tall double doors stood open. While Mr. Morrison talked with one of the police, the men from the hearse maneuvered a gurney up the rotting steps. Excited by the commotion, MacDuff ran to Mr. Morrison. One of the policemen patted him.

"Are you going to watch them bring the bodies out?" Lissa whispered. I had a feeling she wanted to leave.

Georgie nodded, but I touched his arm. "Let's go."

"Why?"

"Because it's morbid to stay here and watch," I told him.

"Don't you want to be sure they find us?"

I glanced at Lissa, but she was edging away toward the warmth and safety of the trailer. She hadn't heard Georgie.

"Please, Georgie," I whispered. "Watch what you say. Do you want Lissa to know everything?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"I'm going to the trailer with her," I said. "Please come with us."

Georgie didn't answer. Nor did he move. His attention was fixed on the house's open doors and the darkness beyond.

I left him there and ran after Lissa. "Wait!"

Behind me, the policeman's voice droned on. He was saying something about ghosts, old mysteries, Miss Lilian's role in the children's disappearance. With every step I took, my back prickled. I was tempted to look over my shoulder, but whatever came out of that cellar was best not seen.

From the high gray dome of the sky, a hawk dove toward the field not far from the drive. In a second he was flying upward again, a mouse in his talons.

Lissa glanced at the hawk and shuddered. "I hate this farm."

"Hawks have to live," I said.

"It's not just the hawk and the mouse," Lissa said. "That's just plain old nature. I mean ghosts and dead children and crazy people—things that give me nightmares. I want to leave, like you."

I followed her into the trailer. "Do you want hot chocolate?" she asked.

"No, thanks."

"How about peanut butter cookies?" She held out a plate. "Dad and I made them this morning. Don't they smell delicious?"

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

Lissa sat down at the counter. I took a seat beside her. "I guess your parents don't allow you to eat sweets ," she said.

"That's right." I toyed with a pencil lying on the counter, spinning it idly this way and that. It was hard to think of anything but the cellar and what the men from the morgue were doing down there.

Lissa fixed herself a cup of cocoa and ate a few cookies. I breathed in the aroma. It was almost as satisfying as actually eating and drinking.

"Let's play checkers," Lissa said. "The board's all set up."

I followed her to the sofa. The checkerboard lay on the coffee table, ready to go. "Red or black?" Lissa asked.

"Black." I picked up a checker and rolled it in my fingers. Maybe a game would take my mind away from the cellar.

Lissa won easily. Not because she was a good player. I made sloppy moves, I overlooked traps, I let myself be cornered and captured.

"What's wrong, Diana?" Lissa asked.

"Nothing." I gathered up my captured men and began setting up the board for another game.

"You're miles away," she insisted. "I can tell by the way you're playing."

I sat back and studied the checkers lined up on the board, so orderly, so perfect. Had the men put the bodies in the hearse? Was Georgie still watching? I shouldn't have left him there all by himself in the snow. I should have made him come with Lissa and me.

"It's the children in the cellar, isn't it?" she asked. "You're thinking about them."

Lissa jiggled the board accidentally, and I nudged a checker back into position.

Undiscouraged by my silence, Lissa moved closer to me. "How did you keep it a secret so long?"

I sighed. "There was no one to tell."

"Your parents—you could have told them."

"I wish to heaven I could have." I slid away from Lissa and gazed out the window across the room. Bare trees blew in the wind. Georgie was out there, small and thin, his hair full of leaves and feathers, watching, waiting.

"I can't believe your parents are as strict as you say." Lissa slumped on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table, further disturbing the order of the checkerboard.

Silently I leaned forward and moved the pieces back to the center of their squares.

"Oh, Diana." Lissa sighed. "Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all."

"You don't," I said.

She stared at me, speechless for once.

Mr. Morrison chose that moment to open the door. MacDuff followed him inside, wagging his tail, shaking snow off his fur.

Lissa jumped to her feet, scattering the checkers in her haste.This time I ignored them. What did it matter, anyway?

"Did they take the children away?" she asked.

Mr. Morrison blew his nose. "They've made arrangements to bury them at Mount Holly."

"Do their parents know?" Lissa asked.

Mr. Morrison shook his head. "It's such a sad situation. The children's parents are both dead. No uncles, no aunts, no living relatives."

I got to my feet, my chest tight, my legs weak. "They're dead?" I asked. "Mother and Daddy both?"

Lissa looked at me oddly, but I was too upset to wonder why. All I could think of was what her father had just said, his voice so calm, his manner so ordinary.

"That's what the police told me," he said. "They're buried at Mount Holly. At least the children will be with them now."

I covered my face with my hands. All this time, I'd pictured Mother and Daddy alive somewhere, waiting for news of us. I hadn't considered the weeks, the months, the years as they'd rolled past. As Georgie had said, it was hard to keep track of time without birthdays and holidays.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Now, now, Diana," Mr. Morrison said softly. "I don't blame you for crying, but it happened long ago. Try to think of it as a story you read in a book."

"You don't understand," I whispered. At that moment I wanted him to put his arms around me as if I were his child, his daughter. I wanted him to comfort me, to stroke my hair. I wanted to tell him everything about Georgie and me and Miss Lilian and the terrible thing that happened to us. I wanted him to know who those bodies belonged to. Instead, I shrugged his hand off and edged away from him, closer to the door, closer to escape. "Its not a story,"I said. "It's true."

Lissa eyed me solemnly, full of curiosity, but for once she had no questions.

"Of course it's true," Mr. Morrison said, beginning to sound uncomfortable. "I was only trying—"

"I know," I said. "It's okay." I'd reached the door. My hand was on the knob. I turned it.

"Don't leave, Diana," Mr. Morrison said. "I'll fix you tea, hot chocolate—"

"Dad." Lissa took her father by the arm. "I think Diana wants to go home."

With MacDuff between them, Mr. Morrison and Lissa stood in the doorway and watched me leave. "Find Georgie," Mr. Morrison called. "Bring him back here. We can watch a video. Eat supper. I make a great vegetarian chili."

"No," I said. "I'm sorry. I can't."

I turned my back on the open doorway and the warmth inside and ran across the field toward the woods.