Nightmare Hour (7 page)

What was that? An explosion?

I saw all four kids were knocked onto their backs.

I heard a cracking sound. The sound of wood splitting.

Louder. Louder…

“Noooooo!” One of the girls opened her mouth in a terrified cry.

“Help!” the other girl shrieked, struggling to sit up.

The cracking sound spread over the basement, then became a loud snap as the wood beam above their heads split.

The heavy beam crashed down on them. Bounced once. Twice.

And then the whole ceiling collapsed in an avalanche of wood and plaster.

Crushing them…crushing them all…burying them.

“
Noooooooooooo
.” A scream of horror burst from my chest.

I couldn't bear to watch.

I shut my eyes. My hands clawed at the sides of the mask.

I finally tugged it off and let it fall to the floor. I bent forward and hugged myself tightly. My stomach heaved. I struggled to keep my dinner down.

It took a long time to find the courage to open my eyes. When I did, the basement looked normal again. Everything okay. No dead kids. No broken beam or fallen ceiling.

“I know why we are seeing these kids,” I said out loud, trying to work things out. “A hundred years ago these kids all died in this basement. They were killed here, crushed to death….”

I stared at the mask, crumpled on the floor. Then I ran upstairs, my legs as shaky as Jell-O.

Mom and Dad had gone shopping. I didn't feel like
being alone. I
couldn't
be alone.

I had to call Bill and tell him. But as I picked up the phone, the doorbell rang.

I hurried down the steps to the front door, pulled it open--and screamed. The man from the past. The man hiding in the basement, holding the wrench, spying on those poor kids.

The man from a hundred years ago…

He was standing on my front stoop!

 

“Sorry I'm so late,” he said, eyeing me through the storm door.

“Huh? Late? N-no…” I stammered. “No…it c-can't be….”

He scratched a tuft of white hair with his free hand. “Is your dad home? I'm Calvin Reimer. He called me about checking out the furnace. But I got tied up till now.”

What is happening? I asked myself. I saw him through the mask, a hundred years ago. But he looks exactly the same!

Is he a ghost?

“Can I come in?” he asked. He lifted a large toolbox off the stoop. “I'm here to fix the furnace.”

I pictured him again, hiding back there, holding the wrench.

I can't let him in, I thought. He's the same man I saw through the mask!

“My parents aren't home,” I told him.

He ignored me and pulled open the storm door. He pushed past me into the living room. “That's no problem,”
he said. “I know the way.” He started to the basement stairs.

My heart pounding, I followed him. “Were you ever here a long time ago?” My voice shook.

He chuckled. “You got that right, son. Believe it or not, I've been taking care of this house for nearly fifty years.”

My brain was spinning. I followed him down to the basement. He opened the furnace and got right to work.

I stood watching him, hands shoved deep in my pockets, trying to stay calm, trying to figure this out. I kept picturing those poor kids crushed under the falling ceiling.

“Mr. Reimer, did anything
…terrible
ever happen down here?” I asked, my voice cracking.

He gazed at me through his thick glasses. “Everyone calls me Cal,” he said. “Why do you ask that?”

I shrugged and tried to sound casual. “Just wondered.”

Cal bit his bottom lip. “As a matter of fact there was a terrible tragedy down in this basement, nearly fifty years ago. But how old are you? Eleven? Twelve? I don't think you want to hear about it.”

“Yes!” I cried, losing my cool. “Please! I do want to hear.”

He scratched a tuft of white hair with the blade of his screwdriver. “Well, it was a bitter winter day. The Anderson family--that's who lived here then--still had an old-fashioned coal-burning furnace.”

He sighed. “They moved out right after the tragedy. You see, Amelia, the little girl, wandered down here. No one knew how she got away from her nanny. But she wandered down here to the basement, and she must have been running or something. And she fell.”

Cal stopped and squinted at me. “You
sure
you want to hear this?”

I nodded. “Yes. Go on. Please.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, to make a long story short, someone left the furnace doors open. Amelia fell in, fell right into the burning coal. She was burned up. Burned to her bones. Probably didn't take long. No one heard her scream or anything. Later, all they found was her little charred skeleton.”

Cal shook his head. “The Andersons moved out soon after. But some people think that Amelia's ghost stayed. Some people say that the little girl's ghost has haunted this basement ever since.”

I stared at Cal openmouthed. I didn't know what to say. Such a horrifying story. But what did it have to do with the four kids I saw? And why did Cal look exactly the same as he had all those years ago?

“Hope I didn't scare you,” Cal said, snapping his toolbox shut. “It's just a story.”

“It's okay,” I told him. “But…didn't anything
else
horrible happen down here?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope. Can't think of anything.” He tapped the furnace. “I've got to replace that pipe down there. Tell your dad I'll come back tomorrow.”

I followed him upstairs and closed the front door after him. Then I hurried to phone my friends and tell them everything that had happened.

 

The next afternoon the four of us huddled in my living
room. No one was eager to go down to the basement.

“That old guy from a hundred years ago was in your house?” Valerie asked, shuddering. “You let him in?”

“I had no choice,” I explained. “He pushed his way in. He said he came to fix the furnace. He's coming back today.”

“We can't go back down there,” Bill said, motioning to the basement door. “We have to find a new place to hang out.”

“We
have
to go down there,” I insisted. “I've been thinking about this all day, and I think I've figured out part of it.”

“Figured out
what?
” Bill asked.

“Why we're seeing those four kids,” I replied. “I think they need our help. If we can warn them somehow about the ceiling, they won't have to die that horrible death.”

“But Robb--they can't see us or hear us!” Julie protested. “So how can we warn them?”

“There's got to be a way,” I insisted. “We've got to find a way to communicate with them.” I jumped to my feet. “Come on. We can save them. I know we can.”

I practically had to force my friends down the stairs. When we reached the basement, all four of us stopped. And listened.

I heard a slow, soft
scrape scrape scrape
from the far corner.

Footsteps?

Scrape scrape…

Louder now.

“The ghost of the little girl!” Valerie cried.

“Oh, no!” My breath caught in my throat. I took a step toward the sound….

And saw Cal pop his head out from behind the furnace.
He clamped the wrench on a pipe. As he turned the wrench, it made the scraping sound. “Hope I didn't startle you,” he called.

He put down the wrench and crossed the room to us. He was wearing the same outfit as the night before, baggy denim overalls and a red shirt.

How did he get down here? I wondered, feeling a chill. How did he get in the house?

“I've got to go buy a valve,” he told me, frowning. “Be back in an hour or so.”

He motioned for me to follow him to the steps. “I feel bad about last night,” he whispered. “That story about the little girl? I just made it up. You looked like you wanted to hear a scary story, so--”

“Made it up?” I cried.

He nodded. “Making up stories is sort of a hobby of mine. I enjoy telling tales. Maybe I'll put
you
in a scary story someday.” He winked at me.

I watched him disappear up the basement stairs. I felt more confused than ever. Had he really made up that story? I turned back to my friends.

Bill handed me the black mask. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

“Try to reach those kids somehow,” I said. “Try to warn them.”

I pulled on the mask and adjusted the holes over my eyes. Yes! There they were. The four old-fashioned kids, down on the floor, sitting around that board game.

“What are your names?” I shouted. “Hello? Can you
hear me? What are your names?”

If only I could see their faces. But their features were a blur, hidden behind a hazy glow of light.

“What are your names? Can you hear me?”

Nothing. They continued rolling the dice, moving their game pieces.

Still calling to them, I walked across the room. I reached out. Tried to grab a boy's shoulder.

My hand went right through it.

He didn't react.

I tried to pull a girl's hair.

Nothing. I couldn't grasp her hair, couldn't even feel it.

I tore off the mask in disgust. “I can't reach them,” I told my friends.

“Here. Try this,” Julie said. She shoved a piece of paper into my hand. “I wrote a note to them. I told them to get out of the basement right away.”

I handed Julie the mask. “You try to give the note to them.”

She hesitated, then pulled on the mask. Valerie, Bill, and I watched Julie cross the room. We watched her try again and again to deliver the note. But the paper remained in her hand.

Finally she pulled off the mask and tossed it to me. “No way,” she said. “They can't see it.”

“They're all going to die!” Valerie wailed. “This is horrible!”

“There has to be a way to communicate,” I insisted. “Some secret way. This basement holds the secret. I know it.
Some secret way to get to these kids and…”

I think all four of us looked at the padlocked closet at the same time.

A secret…the secret closet…the only closet in the basement that was locked.

“We have to open it,” Valerie said. “I'll bet we'll find what we're looking for in there.”

“Wait,” I said. “I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we shouldn't open that closet door. Maybe it's locked for a good reason.”

But it was too late. They were already in front of the closet, tugging on the rusted padlock.

“Please, guys!” I begged. “This is too scary. I don't think we should open…”

Using his strength, Bill pulled the old padlock open. He lifted it off the latch and tossed it onto the floor.

Valerie frowned at me. “We might as well see what's inside, Robb,” she said softly.

She turned the handle. The heavy old door creaked as she pushed it open.

The closet light flashed on.

All four of us squeezed inside.

And gasped in shock.

 

“Old clothes!” Julie declared, holding up a faded, lace-collared blouse. “Piles of them.”

Bill sneezed. “Check out these shoes.” He held up a pair of black high-topped shoes. They had buttons instead of shoelaces. He blew the dust off them and sneezed again.

Julie held a long, black corduroy jumper up in front of
her. “Wow. Pretty awesome, huh? This is like the clothes those kids from the past were wearing.”

I shuddered. “I really don't think we should touch this stuff.”

But Julie was already buttoning the lace blouse over her T-shirt. And Bill was admiring a black suit jacket with wide lapels.

“Stop!” I pleaded. “I think this stuff belonged to the dead kids.”

“Yes! That's right!” Julie said, running her hand down the heavy fabric. “This
is
what they were wearing!”

“So we have to dress up in it,” Valerie insisted. “Don't you see, Robb? Maybe this is the secret we've been looking for. Maybe if we put their clothes on, we can communicate with them.”

“Yeah, right!” Bill agreed. “Maybe they'll be able to hear us and talk to us if we're dressed in their clothes.”

I wasn't sure it would work, but I joined the others. I pulled on an itchy shirt with a stiff, white collar and a pair of baggy tweed pants that stopped just below my knees.

We all admired each other for a few minutes. Valerie and Julie looked a little weird with their hair combed up in buns. We complained about how uncomfortable all the clothing was and how kids were so uncool in the old days.

“Let's try the mask,” Valerie suggested. “Let's see if we can reach those kids.”

“No, wait,” Julie insisted. “Let's do this right. We need one more thing.”

She found the old board games in the wooden crate and set Pah-Cheesi down on the floor. “Okay, sit down, every
one,” she said. “Come on. Let's play the game. Just like the four kids from the past.”

We obediently dropped to the floor and sat around the board game. “I hope it works,” I said. “I hope we can reach them now.”

After we played for a few minutes I grabbed the black mask and started to pull it on, but I stopped when I heard the heavy thuds coming down the stairs. Slow, steady footsteps heavy enough to make the stairs creak.

We all turned to see Cal. “A dress-up game?” he called. “You all look very sophisticated. Don't let me interrupt.”

He disappeared around the side of the furnace and began working his wrench around the pipes.

This is perfect now, I realized. With Cal back there, we have created exactly the same scene. But can we talk to those poor kids? Can we warn them?

I reached again for the black mask.

But I never had time to put it on.