The Horror (3 page)

The first thing I saw was Katie, covered from head to foot in red gore. Gobs dripped down from her hair onto her cheeks. Her yellow blouse had turned the color of blood. She was breathing in little gasps and her blazing eyes were fixed on me.

“You!” she sputtered, sending red drops flying. “You!”

Just then I noticed the bowl in her lap. The sauce bowl. That was the source of all the gory, bloody-looking stuff. It had been emptied over her head, then dumped in her lap.

“You did this, Jason!” she said, pointing a finger at me.

“It wasn't me,” I insisted. “I swear I didn't do it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Katie said disgustedly. “It was a ghost, right?”

“Bobby's a bad boy,” said Sally sadly.

Katie gritted her teeth and glared. “Jason's the only bad boy around here,” she said.

It was no use trying to talk sense to her. First, it was easier to blame me, and second, she looked so funny covered in spaghetti sauce, I was afraid I might burst out laughing.

We finally managed to eat our supper without anything else happening.

Katie calmed down a bit, but she still didn't trust me. When I offered to clean up the mess she said, “No way. You'll break every dish in the house and blame it on ghosts.”

I got a couple of ice pops out of the freezer and took Sally out on the porch. Maybe with my sister outside, the house would leave us alone for a while.

We were on the porch for only a couple of minutes when a voice boomed out of the dark. “Jayysssonnnnnn!”

I recognized the voice right away. Steve, trying to sound spooky.

“Knock it off,” I said. “The last thing we need around here is a practical joker.”

Steve came up on the porch, grinning that big grin of his. He slapped me five and said, “This house must be getting to you, bud.”

“You don't know the half of it,” I said.

Just then the porch stair creaked. It was Lucy, who lived a couple of houses over. Lucy was twelve, like me and Steve, but while Steve was husky and solid, Lucy was tall and long-legged. She wore her dark ponytail pulled through the back of her baseball cap.

“Is it Bobby again?” she asked.

Lucy knew about the things that had been happening in the house and took the haunting seriously. She and Steve sat on the porch steps while I told them what had happened when Katie tried to make dinner.

“That sounds creepy,” said Lucy, frowning thoughtfully at the top of her sandal. “What would Bobby have against her? What's she like?”

I shrugged. “She's okay. In fact, she's pretty nice. Except she's blaming everything on me.”

“Maybe the ghost has something against teenage girls,” Lucy suggested. “Or baby-sitters.”

“Smart ghost,” put in Steve, blowing a fart noise into his fist.

I was still laughing when a strange expression came over Lucy's face. “Hi,” she said loudly, jumping up.

I turned and there was Katie in the doorway, freshly showered and changed. Her thick red hair was combed and even her freckles looked fresh-scrubbed.

But the look on her face was anything but sweet. She knew we'd been talking about her. She squinted her eyes at me and I felt a chill.

Suddenly I knew that crossing Katie could be dangerous.

9

Katie went out of her way to be nice to Steve and Lucy. She brought them ice pops and insisted they tell her all about themselves. Lucy's not much of a talker, but Steve made up for it by going on and on about what a good ballplayer he was, and how he was going to play pro ball when he grew up.

“The only thing I'm not sure about,” Steve said, “is whether to sign with the American League or the National League.”

“Depends on how well you bat,” said Katie.

“What?”

“American League has the designated hitter, but in the National League the pitcher gets to hit, right?”

Steve whistled and looked impressed. A babysitter who knew about the DH rule!

“What about you, Lucy?” Katie asked. “What do you want to be?”

Lucy smiled shyly. “Maybe a scientist,” she said. “I'd like to investigate unexplained phenomena.”

Katie just stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You mean like poltergeists and ghosts, I suppose?” She glanced over at me and shook her head. “You've all been bitten by this ghost bug, I guess. Well, before you start trying to scare me again, I'm going to have to call it a night. It's time for Sally to go to bed.”

After Steve and Lucy said good night and left, we went back inside the house. The lights stayed on, there were no creaky noises, and the kitchen was spick-and-span again, as if nothing had happened.

“Thanks for being nice to my friends,” I said.

Katie gave me a strange look and then laughed. “Why shouldn't I be nice? I'm a nice person, even if certain kids try to take advantage.”

I sighed. She was just never going to believe I wasn't causing all the trouble!

Sally had been quiet all evening—her eyes were already half closed and I knew she was ready for bed. I took one hand and Katie took the other and we walked her upstairs to her bedroom. Katie helped her into her pajamas and for a little while she seemed happy and friendly, as if she was glad to have Katie around.

“When are Mommy and Daddy coming home?” Sally asked as she got into bed.

“In a few days,” Katie promised. “Until then, we're going to have lots and lots of fun, okay?”

“Okay,” Sally said.

Then the smile froze on her face and her eyes grew round. “Where's Winky?” she wailed. “I want my rabbit!”

Her stuffed toy with the floppy ears. She'd left it down on the porch.

“I'll get it,” I volunteered.

As I ran down the stairs I noticed something strange. The lights were out downstairs. And I distinctly remembered that they'd been left on.

It was so dark. And the tall grandfather clock jumped out at me from the shadowy hallway. Not really, but that's how it looked.

It was only a broken clock but it gave me the creeps. As if it was watching me from behind the clock face.

Go for it
, I urged myself.

I ran past the clock and out the door to the porch.

The porch light was out, too. The wind was sighing through the grass, and the lawn looked pale and silvery in the moonlight.

Something moved.

Creak creak creak
.

The porch rocker was moving. Creaking back and forth. The rocker where Sally had been sitting.

More than anything, I wanted to run back inside and lock the door. Let Sally cry herself to sleep—was that such a big deal?

But I couldn't do that. I had to get Winky or my little sister would keep us awake all night.

The chair stopped rocking. The way the shadows fell across the porch, I couldn't tell if Winky was in the chair where Sally had left it. But something was there, that was for sure.

I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and ran up to the chair.

The shadows shifted and there it was.

Winky. It was just a stuffed toy, but it looked almost like it was alive.

I grabbed it, half expecting it to sink fangs into my hand, but nothing happened. It flopped around in my hand, totally harmless.

Letting out my breath, I ran back into the house and flipped on the hall lights.

I tucked it under my arm and ran up the stairs two at a time.

Sally was sitting up in bed, holding out her arms. “Winky!” she cried.

“Not a minute too soon,” said Katie with a sigh.

Sally's anxious look disappeared when I gave her the bunny. She snuggled back under the covers and I tucked Winky in beside her. “My bunny,” she said contentedly.

As I started to leave, Katie leaned over the bed. “Can I give you a good-night kiss?” she asked, smoothing the hair off Sally's forehead.

I looked back. Just in time to see Sally's face change.

Suddenly her cheeks bunched and went bright red.

Her eyes seemed to shoot sparks. Her forehead bulged.

“No!” she spat, in the same strange, rough voice that had come out of her when Mom and Dad drove away. “I hate you!” she screamed at Katie. “I hate you!”

Katie backed away, totally at a loss.

“Go away,” the ghostly voice shouted through Sally's wide-straining mouth. “Get out of my house!”

10

My little sister was snarling like an animal.

I tapped Katie on the arm and said, “You better leave!”

Katie looked scared, but she wasn't ready to give up. “No way!” she said, turning to me with a scowl. “I'm not leaving, no matter how hard you try!”

All I wanted to do was protect her from the ghost, but she thought I was trying to chase her out of the house.

“Please,” I begged her, “wait out in the hall, or downstairs. Let me try and get Sally calmed down.”

Katie wasn't convinced, but Sally was getting more and more frantic, so she finally left the room.

As soon as she was out of sight, Sally's body seemed to deflate. I dropped to my knees beside the bed and gripped her shoulders. “Sally!” I demanded. “Sally, I know you're in there! Talk to me!”

The blaze died out of Sally's eyes and they returned to their normal little-girl blue.

“Sally?” I said softly.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of a small fist. “I didn't know Bobby was going to do that,” she said in a small, troubled voice. “Bobby's a bad boy, isn't he?”

I hugged her to me, feeling my heart thumping. What were we going to do?

“It's all right now, Sally,” I said. “He's gone.”

“Bobby doesn't like baby-sitters,” said Sally, yawning.

When I set her head back on the pillow, she was already asleep.

Outside in the hallway, Katie waited, looking worried.

“It's all right,” I said. “Sally's herself again.”

“She was like a totally different person,” Katie said shakily.

“That's Bobby,” I explained. Maybe Katie would believe me now. I could certainly use her help.

But Katie put her hands on her hips and frowned at me. “I don't know what you think you're up to,” she said, “but getting your little sister to play along with your jokes is really sick.”

My heart sank—she still thought it was my fault. “It wasn't me,” I said. “You've got to believe me. It's the ghost, or the house, or something I haven't figured out yet—but it's not me.”

“I hope you're proud of yourself,” said Katie as she stalked off toward the stairs, shaking her head. “What you're doing to that poor little girl is a crime and don't think I won't be telling your parents!”

What could I say? I knew how lame it sounded, blaming everything on a ghost. But it just happened to be true, even if none of the grown-ups could see or hear what was going on.

So I didn't say anything. I just stood there watching Katie walk away. And that's when it happened.

Evil laughter echoed deep inside the walls. That mean, cackling witch laugh I'd heard before. The laughter Katie couldn't hear.

But this time she stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at me. “Cut it out,” she said. “You think that stupid laughter is going to scare me? What is it, a tape recording of a Halloween laugh?” Katie rolled her eyes and tossed her head, turning her back. “Spare me.”

Things were bad. It was night and things might get much, much worse.

Yes, things were bad all right, but for some reason I felt like jumping for joy.

Because unlike my parents, Katie could hear the haunted laughter coming from the walls!

I wasn't alone after all!

11

I was sound asleep, dreaming about a baseball game, when a bolt of lightning woke me up.

The flash of light made my bedroom look inside out, like a photographic negative. Then it was pitch black again and I was sitting straight up in my bed with my heart pounding hard enough to bust my ribs.

I couldn't see a thing.

But I could hear things.

Outside the leaves were rustling. A branch banged against the house.

And then KER-WHAM! thunder exploded like a bomb, shaking the whole house.

As lightning flashed I saw a face looking at me.

A pale, tense, terrified face. The mouth was open, like it wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound.

The face was me.

My own frightened face reflected in the mirror on the closet door.

Suddenly the sky broke open and it was raining. Raining so hard it sounded like all the oceans of the world were crashing over the roof. The rain poured over the window glass as the lightning flashed again.

It was only a storm. A summer storm. I was safe inside. Nothing could hurt me.

My pounding heart started to slow. I lay my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes, determined to go back to sleep.

Then I heard footsteps in the hallway.

Little running footsteps. I pulled the covers over my head. I was not going to get up, no matter what.

Another jolt of lightning glowed right through the blanket, making my bedroom walls look as white as bone.

Something knocked on the door.

I peeked out from under the covers.

Was the doorknob wiggling or was that my imagination?

The knocking noise came again, louder.

This was how it always started. Noises in the hall. Scratching fingers outside my door.

It wanted me to open the door and let it in. Then the horror would start all over.

Slowly the door opened wider and wider. I scrambled to get out of bed. The thing wasn't going to find me defenseless.

My legs were caught in the bed clothes. I couldn't get free. I kicked and pushed frantically but it seemed to take forever.

At last my legs were untangled. I looked toward the door. It was wide open now.

A dark shape came through the doorway and glided into the room.