The Haunting (11 page)

“TICK TICK TICK,” it said. “YOUR TIME IS UP!”

Sally clung to me, hiding her face in my pajama top.

The clock began to creep toward us across the floor, shuffling and rocking.

Coming to get us.

I backed up until I was against the wall with no place to go.

The big clock loomed over us, then tipped forward. It started to topple.

Its weight would crush us like bugs!

30

I crouched over Sally, waiting for the clock to smash us to pieces. Suddenly I felt a cold breeze—there was a crack in the floor, right under us!

I felt around and found a metal ring set into the floor—the handle of a trapdoor! I had no idea where it went, but it didn't matter. If we stayed here we'd be roadkill.

So I twisted the handle on the trapdoor and it opened. Sally and I fell through the hole and the clock landed with a crash across the opening, just missing us.

As we fell I hugged Sally tight, bracing for impact. To my surprise we landed on something soft and bounced.

I opened my eyes and looked around. We were on Sally's own bed, in Sally's own room.

Above us the trapdoor slammed closed. Then it vanished and the ceiling was smooth again.

A howl of rage came from the attic above. There was a furious pounding on the ceiling and we were showered with plaster and dust.

Sally whimpered in fear and I held her until the noise stopped.

Around us the house quieted.

I stayed huddled on the bed, thinking. Trying to concentrate. Something had saved us from the evil clock. Was it Bobby? But Sally said it was Bobby who took her to the attic in the first place. Just as it was Bobby who put her in the tree—and then saved her from falling. So maybe Bobby had somehow saved us from the evil clock. Maybe he was trying to help, somehow, and wanted us to help him in return.

But what about the skeleton in black that stalked me and wandered the house searching for something? Who was that? What did it want? Why was it threatening us?

Whatever it was, its presence seemed to bring out the demon in Bobby.

I sighed and peeled Sally off me. She was still pretty scared. “I think we're safe now, Sally,” I said. “But we have to get out of this house. At least until morning.”

“I want Mommy,” said Sally. “I want my mommy.”

OK,” I said. “We'll wake up Mommy. But first let's get a sweater on you in case we have to go outside.”

My heart finally began to slow to normal as the house stayed quiet. Maybe Sally and I had just gotten caught in the middle of a struggle between Bobby and the skeleton thing. Maybe they had finished their battle in the attic and it was over, for tonight, at least.

I wanted desperately to believe it was over but I was still as jumpy as a cat. I got up from the bed and moved very quietly to Sally's dresser to get her a sweater. When the shadow of a branch crossed the window I almost leaped out of my skin.

I took the sweater back to Sally and helped her put it on. “All right. Let's go wake up Mom and Dad,” I said, gathering up Sally and reaching behind me for the door handle while keeping an eye on the window.

My searching hand met nothing but smooth wall. I spun around. The door was gone. I stared in sinking disbelief.

Behind me came strange, gleeful laughter. I stiffened, afraid to turn.

There was something in the room with us! The laughter came from everywhere. It had a speeded-up, unreal sound, like cartoon laughter from the television. Sally began to wail and I turned slowly around. My jaw dropped when I saw what it was.

All of Sally's toys had come to life. They were looking at us and laughing. Laughing like evil, evil creatures.

The wooden pull-toy duck in the corner was flapping its bill. The clown puppet's mouth was a round red “O” as it screamed an insane laugh. The jack-in-the-box sprang up and bounced with a tinny
tee-hee-hee
. Three dolls put their heads together and giggled like mad demons. Even Sally's crayons danced with mean-spirited glee.

Only Winky the rabbit lay quietly on her pillow, looking sad.

Sally hid her face in my shoulder. “Make them stop,” she whimpered. “Jason, please make them stop.”

I put her down gently on her bed, then began grabbing the toys and throwing them into her closet. Each toy hiccupped when it hit the wall and fell to the floor laughing crazily. I wanted to get them all, make them all shut up. I scrambled on hands and knees, grabbing every last one of the nasty things and tossing them all into the closet.

I was surprised how good it made me feel to be throwing things rather than having them thrown at me. Take that, you stupid toys! I shut the closet door with a sigh, then whirled at a choking sound behind me.

I'd missed one of the toys.

The clown puppet had come to life. It had grown long, rubber fingers and wrapped them tight around her neck. It was strangling Sally.

My sister's eyes rolled as she struggled. Her small arms pushed at the clown but it held on, grinning with evil.

She tried to scream but the clown had squeezed off her air.

31

I dove for Sally. I yanked at the clown but the toy dragged Sally after it.

I wedged my fingers under the rubber clown fingers and pried at them. Sally's neck felt so small and fragile, I was afraid of hurting her myself.

I had to get her free or she'd die.

The clown squeezed harder. It grinned an evil smile at me. I was frantic. I forced myself to calm down and concentrate all my strength on my fingers.

Finally I broke the puppet's grip and smashed it against the wall. As it hit the wall all the laughter abruptly stopped.

It wasn't over.

The room suddenly got cold. The temperature dropped swiftly and Sally's teeth were soon chattering. It was like the North Pole in there! I grabbed the blanket off her bed and wrapped us both in it. I was shivering, too, fighting off the incredible cold.

Ice formed on the window and our breath filled the room with fog. I felt around under the bed for Sally's sweater and brought it under the blanket.

“Here, Sally, let's get this on you.” She was already stiff with cold and I had to lift each of her arms to get the sweater on.

The instant I let go of the blanket it flew off. The blanket fluttered about the room. As it settled, a small form took shape under it.

I could make out a head, shoulders—it was a child!

Noises started to come from under the blanket as if whoever was huddled under it was trying to speak.

“Can you hear what he's saying, Sally?” I asked. “Is that Bobby?”

But Sally was shivering too much to pay attention to anything.

The little figure continued to move around under the blanket, struggling to make itself heard. But I couldn't make out a word.

It was Bobby—who else could it be? And this was my chance to catch him and find out what he wanted. Find out why he was haunting the house.

I waited until the shape came close to Sally's bed, then pounced, arms outstretched.

I landed on the floor on an empty blanket. The apparition had vanished.

I lay there for a second, feeling totally defeated.

Until Sally shouted excitedly. “Look! The doors!”

32

I sat up. A second ago we'd been trapped in a room that had no doors. Now it had too many. There was a row of doors running the length of the wall.

The house was trying to trick us again, but I was pretty sure I knew which one was the real door, Sally's old door.

“Stay there, Sally,” I said. “While I check.”

I went to the familiar-looking door and reached for the knob.

It sprouted teeth and snapped at my fingers.

I whipped my hand back and jumped away.

I realized this was a sort of test. We
might
find the way out—if I chose the right door.

But how would I know?

I could start by touching the doorknobs and seeing what happened. Not with my hand, of course—I didn't want to get my fingers chomped off. I looked around for something to use.

Sally's baton. She was too little to learn how to twirl it, anyway. I grabbed the baton and went to the first door. No, the right door would never be the first door. Too obvious.

I took a deep breath and, before I could lose my nerve, reached out with the baton and touched the knob of the second door.

Nothing happened.

I pushed at the knob until it clicked. The door opened and sunlight filled the room. Green grass sloped down to the pine trees. My heart leaped for joy—we could escape to the backyard.

“Come on, Sally,” I cried. “We're out of here!”

I picked her up from the bed and started through the door.

With one foot over the threshold, I hesitated.

Wait a minute. It was sunny out there. But it should be dark. It was night, it was supposed to be dark.

My foot sank down into empty space. I jumped back and the vision of the sunny backyard winked out in an instant. On the other side of the door loomed a dark, vast, bottomless pit.

And we'd almost fallen for it—fallen right into it!

I slammed the door and stood there shaking, clutching hold of Sally.

“That was a close one,” I muttered. “How do I decide which one to try next?”

I sat down on the bed with Sally, and tried to think it through. Which door? One of them led to safety, I would stake my life on it.

The house wasn't going to wait for me to make up my mind. The room started to shake. Then the bed tipped and threw us to the floor.

Sally started to cry. The air grew thick with menace. Something was coming to get us. Something worse than anything we'd seen so far.

We had to get out. But which door?

33

Sally yanked at my arm. “Come on, Jason, I want to go,” she cried. “Look!”

One of the doors opened slowly, as if pushed by an invisible hand.

“Get me out of here, Jason, please!” cried Sally, tugging me along.

The floor bucked harder, as if trying to prevent us from reaching the open door.

All that showed on the other side of the door was blackness. I couldn't see a thing. We might be leaving this terrible place for something worse. I pulled Sally back.

“It's Bobby,” cried Sally, trying to wriggle out of my arms. I clutched her tighter. “He says we should hurry.”

The room shook us like dice in a cup. I couldn't hold on to Sally. She got away from me and ran to the door.

“Sally, no!” I cried.

How could we trust Bobby? It was Bobby who'd taken Sally to the attic. Sure, he'd also provided the trapdoor in the nick of time but then he had imprisoned us in this room. He wanted to keep Sally with him forever, I was sure of it.

Sally hesitated at the door, looking back at me. “Come on, Jason, it's all right,” she pleaded. She stumbled back to me over the heaving floor and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

Her eyes were shining. Sally truly believed that Bobby would rescue us. Maybe she was right. And what other chance did we have, anyway?

As I started to rise, the floor bucked and I went down on one knee, hard. Sally helped me up and I followed her to the open door.

Now or never. This might be the end for both of us. We'd be trapped for eternity.

I held Sally's hand tight as we stepped through the door into the darkness.

Suddenly we were on a winding stairway, going down. There was just enough light to see the next step. I couldn't tell where we were going but Sally kept trying to skip ahead of me, giddy with relief to be out of her haunted room.

My throat was tight with fear. The stairs seemed to go on forever. Where was Bobby taking us?

A child's laughter floated up from somewhere below. My stomach clenched at the sound, but Sally joined in, laughing as if all this was a delightful game.

The smell of green grass and pine came drifting up the stairs. It smelled clean and safe and real. A part of me started to hope our night of terror was over. Sally pulled at me to go faster.

We reached the bottom. Another door stood open and a fresh breeze beckoned.

Still hesitant, I moved cautiously forward. I poked my head out the doorway.

We were in the backyard! For real, this time.

“
Go to the tree
,” whispered a child's voice beside my ear. “
You'll be safe by the tree
.”

I jumped and looked all around but I couldn't see anybody there.

“Come on, Jason,” Sally demanded, hopping up and down.

I let Sally lead the way to the cherry tree. I looked back at the house and was startled to see a little boy standing in the doorway we'd just come through.

A little boy. And I could see right through him.

The child waved and smiled and then the boy and the doorway both vanished.

Sally lay down on the grass under the cherry tree and was asleep in an instant. I was still awake and guarding her when the sun broke over the horizon.

We had survived.

34

A cold hand gripped my shoulder. I bolted upright, instantly alert. “Mom!”

Sally rubbed her eyes and blinked in the sunshine.

“You two gave me a fright,” said Mom, sounding really worried. “I checked your rooms this morning and you weren't there. What are you
doing
out here?”

Dad appeared over her shoulder. “Well?” he said. “Is this some kind of game, Jason?”

Why were they acting like everything was normal?

“Is everything all right inside?” I asked. “Anything broken?”

“What?” said Dad, looking puzzled. “Of course everything's all right. What shouldn't be all right?”

“I don't know,” I mumbled, thinking of the overturned furniture, smashed mirrors and vases and lamps, broken crockery. I should have known it would all be back in place now, because the house didn't want my parents to know what was going on.

Dad took me aside. He looked stern. “If you're frightening your sister with this ghost nonsense, I'll be very disappointed in you, young man,” he said.