“How long do you think this’ll take?” Emery asked as he and Philip huddled together in a bush behind the haunted house.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I don’t want to be in there when it gets dark.”
“No, no. Me either,” Philip admitted. He looked at his watch. “It won’t take that long. We have plenty of time.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How do we get in?”
“How do I know?”
“Kind of important.”
“Yeah, real. Look, if the front windows went up and down, maybe the back windows go up and down, too.”
“Maybe the back door’s even unlocked,” Emery said hopefully.
Both boys eyed the house carefully.
“We know we can’t go in the front way. Somebody might see us,” Philip said.
“Somebody could see us go in the back way, too.”
“We have to go in some way,” Philip said impatiently. “We can’t go down the chimney.”
Emery looked up. “There’s a chimney?”
“No, there’s no chimney!” Philip barked.
“Shhhh,” Emery warned, his finger to his lips.
“Shhh yourself. Don’t talk. Think.” The two boys studied the back of the house again.
A cement backyard filled the space between the bushes where they hid and the back door. The back door had a block of four small windows in it, and the back wall of the house had two sets of bigger windows.
“What’ll we do if everything’s locked up?” Emery whispered.
Philip ignored the grim question and whispered back, “Come on. You try one window and I’ll try the other.” Philip bent over as far as he could and still keep his balance and ran to the window on the left. He pushed against it, but it wouldn’t move. He noticed Emery standing by the back door. Emery waved him over.
“Broken window,” said Emery.
Philip looked and saw a hole in the window nearest the doorknob. He watched Emery reach his hand inside the broken window. “I saw,” Emery said as he wiggled his arm around, “my father...do this...where is it...here...when he locked everybody out once.” Emery carefully removed his arm from the broken window as the back door swung slightly open.
“You opened it,” said Philip in amazement. “Quick; in!” He pushed Emery ahead of him and pushed the door closed. Both boys stood statue-still. They were inside the haunted house.
Chapter Ten
“At least it’s bright in here,” said Emery. The afternoon light filled up the kitchen, and through the kitchen entryway they could see the dining room.
“They probably wouldn’t hide the money in a place everybody could see,” Philip said.
“‘Loot’,” corrected Emery. “I read stolen money is called ‘loot.’”
‘Loot’. Philip liked the sound. He regretted not using the word. “Well,” he whispered, “the loot is probably in a dark place. Come on; and stay away from the windows.” He bent way over and tiptoed out of the kitchen into the dining room. He pointed to a door. “Basement. The loot’s probably down there.”
Emery took a deep breath. “Can we turn the basement light on? Will anybody outside see it?”
Philip scrunched his forehead together. “I don’t remember if there’s any window to the basement. Do you?”
Emery scrunched his eyes closed. “I don’t remember.”
“All right. Let’s go down the basement and see if there are any windows. If there aren’t, we can come back up and turn on the lights.”
“Good idea. Go ahead.”
“You go first.”
“No, you. You have the flashlight.”
Philip remembered the heavy object in his right hand. He’d reminded himself over and over to let to Emery carry it, but in all of the excitement, he forgot to hand it over. Now he was stuck.
Philip waved his left hand to Emery in exasperation as he moved in the lead and put his hand on the doorknob. “Ready?”
“I guess.” Emery pointed to kitchen and the back door. “Are you gonna yell and then we run or should I yell and then we run?”
“Who cares who yells?”
“Well, last time you wanted to…”
“Never mind last time. Just run if something goes wrong.”
“Shouldn’t we yell, too?”
“So yell, if you want.”
“Should we yell first and then run, or run first and then yell?”
“Yell whenever you want to yell! Just be quiet now, okay?”
“Sheesh. Don’t get mad.”
“You ready? Here I go,” Philip whispered. He took his hand off the doorknob and wiped his palm. “Shall I throw it open fast or open it really slow?”
Emery thought a moment. “Fast,” he whispered. “If anything is there, it’ll be surprised and make a noise and we’ll hear it and run. And yell. If you open it slow, it won’t hear us and we’ll walk right into it.”
“Don’t say ‘it.’”
“Whatever will hear us then.”
“Don’t say whatever.”
“Some nice polite robber will be waiting for us. How’s that? Better?”
Philip rolled his eyes and reached out for the doorknob again. He looked at Emery. “Ready?” he whispered in his quietest voice yet.
“I’m ready. I’m ready.”
Without speaking, Philip mouthed the numbers, “One, two...” He swallowed, took a deep breath, and yanked open the door.
Both boys screamed. Something awful did wait on the other side of the door! Something legless and headless! They froze to the spot, their hearts pounding, waiting for their stomachs to bounce back up from the floor.
“Oh!” Emery cried in relief. “It’s an old raincoat. You picked a closet door. What’d you pick a closet door for?”
Philip closed the door and caught his breath. He felt like he’d run around the block with a maniac chasing him. “You didn’t tell me not to, did you?” He waved his hand at Emery again. “Come on.”
They found another door off the living room. This time Philip opened the door slowly. A black tunnel descended before him.
“This is no closet,” Philip whispered over his shoulder. He could see halfway down the stairs, the lower half lost in the black of the basement. He looked at Emery and pointed down, telling Emery to go ahead. Emery shook his head and pointed at the flashlight in Philip’s hand.
Philip kicked himself again and snapped on the flashlight, which made a dim, wide, yellow circle on the distant basement floor. In single file, the two boys moved down the stairs until they stood at the bottom.
“Shine the light around and see if there’s a window,” said Emery.
Philip played the light over the walls, but this basement, like his and Emery’s basements, had no windows.
“Go up and turn on the lights,” said Philip.
A moment later, light. Beautiful light. Emery ran down the stairs. The boys looked at each other and smiled. Now they could take their time and search the basement in this beautiful, safe light.
“Let’s start looking,” said Philip.
“Let’s look together,” said Emery, afraid Philip might say, “You start here and I’ll start there.”
“Yeah, together—same way we mowed the grass. It’s our lucky way of working.”
“Good idea,” said Emery.
Philip waved Emery forward. “Let’s start there and...” A dull noise stopped them in their tracks. They peeked at each other, afraid to turn around. Something made a clear, louder noise behind them.
It came again. Louder.
They slowly turned and saw a man tucked in under the stairway they’d come down. He sat on a thin mattress, rubbing his eyes as if he’d just woke up. He had a messy gray beard and messy, long gray hair. He had on a pair of jeans torn at both knees, and his T-shirt had a faded picture of Winnie-the-Pooh on it. He lowered his hands and looked at the boys in amazement.
“Uh, oh,” the man said. He go
t to his feet.
Philip and Emery looked at each other. They couldn’t run to the stairway because the man stood right in their way. What was going to happen now? both boys wondered.
Chapter Eleven
Emery found his voice first and blurted out, “Are you going to chop us into pieces and eat us and hide the left-over parts where no one will ever find them?”
The shaggy man made a ‘yuck’ face and said, “No, thank you. I’ve already eaten.” He pointed back at a crumpled bag tossed near where he slept. The two boys recognized it right away. McDonald’s. Somehow knowing the man ate hamburgers and French fries made him seem less like a monster to them.
“Well,” the man said. “Since none of us are supposed to be here, why don’t we introduce ourselves and explain why we are?”
Philip felt his heart slowing down. When he’d first seen the man, it felt like an electric shock went through him. What a stupid question Emery had asked. Chop them into pieces and eat them. Philip hurried to respond before Emery told the man why they were really in the house.
“We were… exploring. You know. This empty house. And… and. It seemed like fun. A neat place to hide or have a secret clubhouse.”
“Ah, same as me. Why don’t you both sit down?” The man turned back to his spot under the staircase and sat on the thin mattress.
The boys didn’t move. They looked at each other. They knew, with the man seated, they could bolt for the stairway and get out of the house before he could catch them, but things didn’t seem so scary now. Philip bravely took a step forward and lowered himself to the ground. Emery followed suit.
“I don’t have a real place to live,” said the man. “I been sleeping outside all summer, but with the chilly weather I found this empty house, and it seemed like the thing to do. At least until someone kicked me out.”
“What’s your name?” Emery asked.
“Walter,” the man answered. “Walter the derelict.” The man laughed. “Life can take some funny turns, boys. And who are you?”
“Philip, the student.”
“Emery, the student, too.”
“Hello, Philip. Hello, Emery, students both. As I said, with no place to go, I came here. You’re the two young fellows who cut the lawn, aren’t you?”
“You saw us? You were here then?” Philip asked in some surprise.
“Yep.”
“Did you open the window while we were working?” asked Emery. Philip had been thinking the same question.
“I did. How did you know?”
Philip explained.
“Very observant of you. I love the smell of new cut grass. Don’t you? So I opened the window and lay down underneath it on the floor breathing it in. It’s about the most expensive entertainment I can afford these days.”
“Don’t you have a job?” Emery asked.
“Had one. Lost it. Not my fault,” he said with emphasis, as if having the boys understand that fact was important to him. “Can’t find another. Been over a year now, and so no money means no apartment. The government gives me some, but it’s not enough for me to keep living where I used to live. So I’m trying to save up to get a new start, but...” He moved both his hands. “It takes a while.” He looked straight at the boys, one of the few times he had. “Boys, I have to ask you a favor. If people know I’m here, they’re going to ask me to leave or maybe arrest me, even though I’m not hurting anything. You think you could keep me a secret? If you want to come back in and use this place as a clubhouse or something, it’s all right with me. I’ll be glad for the company.”
“Does anyone else beside you ever come in this house?” Philip asked. He tapped Emery’s knee, and Emery knew Philip was really asking about the robbers and the loot.
Walter shook his head. “Nope. And I hope no one does. Would scare me to death if anyone did. You two scared the dickens out of me today. Good thing I was asleep when you were creeping around. You’d probably’ve given me a heart attack.”
“Did you take our sandwiches off the porch the day we cut the grass?” Philip asked.
“Guilty,” Walter answered.
“And another one the next day?” Emery asked.
“Guilty again.”
“And did you take a sandwich from my lunch when I left my book bag in front of Emery’s house?” Philip asked.
“Was that yours? Guilty a third time. Sometimes it’s hard to get enough food, but I’ll pay you back, boys. Soon as I get back on my feet again.”
Emery and Philip exchanged a glance, and Philip said, “We believe you.”
No one spoke until Philip said, “Well, I guess me and Emery better go.”
Walter looked at them. “Well, it was darn nice to meet you. I hope we didn’t scare each other too much. Come back again if you want, though I suppose I shouldn’t tell you to do that. It’s probably wrong. But, well…” He shrugged. “I get lonely.”
The two boys rose but Walter did not.
“You boys take care. Better not let anyone see you leave.”
“How do you get in here?” Emery asked.
“I broke the little window in the back door, and now I reach inside for the knob.”
“Same as I did,” said Emery.
“You’re a smart boy.” Walter laughed. “Maybe you’ll make a good derelict someday. Get out safe now. Be careful.”
The boys promised they would be and, after saying goodbye to Walter, they went upstairs and snuck out the back door. They hurried straight for Emery’s house. His mother would be busy with his two little sisters, and they could talk in private. And they had a lot to talk about.
Chapter Twelve
Philip and Emery found the prospect of having a secret, no-longer-haunted, clubhouse complete with a mysterious man in it too exciting for them to tell anyone and spoil it. Right after school the next two days they dropped their books at one of their houses and made their slow and secret way to what they still called the haunted house. They took Walter some food they snuck out of their own kitchens and sat and talked or mostly listened to him as he told them the story of his life. On Thursday, Emery complained about some homework the boys had, and Walter told them they should bring their tough homework with them next time. He’d be happy to help them out with it. But since they rarely got homework on Fridays, their next homework wouldn’t be till Monday, four days away.
That night Philip’s father walked in the door after work and called Philip’s name. Philip rolled off his bed—he’d gotten home from the haunted house moments earlier—and went downstairs to meet his father.
“Hi, Dad.”
“How are you, Flipster?”
“Good.”
“I got a phone call today about you.”
Philip felt goose bumps run up his arm. Had someone seen him going into the haunted house? “About what?” he asked trying not to sound nervous.
“The real estate agent called praising what a good job you did fixing up the lawn on the house around the corner. He said he’d be happy if you could go around to every house he’s trying to sell and fix it up. He’s finally getting some calls about it.”
About it? The haunted house? “You mean someone’s going to buy the house?” Philip asked, again trying to maintain a normal tone of voice, even though he got more nervous with each passing sentence his father spoke.
“Well, not yet, but he’ll be taking some people to see the house tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?”
Philip’s father gave him a funny look. “Yes, tomorrow morning. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I guess I’m used to the house being empty is all.”
Philip’s mother walked into the living room, and Philip’s father greeted her. “Hi, honey. What’s for dinner?”
Philip tuned out the rest of the conversation and took himself back up to his bedroom. People were visiting the haunted house tomorrow morning. He had to warn Walter. If they caught Walter in the house, who knows what would happen to him? He said he could be a
rrested and put into jail. Even if he didn’t get arrested, he’d get chased out and have no place to live, and it was getting colder every day.
Philip looked out the window into the dark evening. He’d never be allowed out of the house this late, but he had to find some way to warn Walter nonetheless.
“Dinner, Philip,” he heard his mother call.
Dinner. Six o’clock already, and he had to go to bed at nine-thirty. He didn’t have much time. Maybe Emery... no, Emery wouldn’t be able to help. He’d heard Emery tell Walter he was going over his aunt’s house tonight. Philip knew he’d never be home in time and couldn’t get out of the house even if he got home in time. He couldn’t even phone Emery to talk things over. The best he could do was to go and get Emery extra early next morning before school.
“Philip, while it’s hot. Let’s go,” came his father’s voice.
Philip rolled off the bed and started downstairs to dinner. This was a tough problem to find an answer to, but he’d always managed to come up with something before whenever he got into trouble. He sure hoped he could come up with something this time.
Early next morning Philip put his finger to his lips as he led the way into the haunted house. “Shhh, follow me,” he said.
He led the way through the kitchen to the basement door. He opened it.
“Walter? Walter, are you there?”
A voice came from the dark basement. “Yes, I’m here. Philip?”
Philip hit the light switch and waved his hand to go forward. Down the steps he went and turned to where he knew Walter would be lying. Walter was on his knees climbing out from under the staircase. He stood up and his eyes opened wide when he saw the two people standing before him.
“Walter,” said Philip, swallowing hard, “I’d like you to meet my Dad.”
Chapter Thirteen
“And then what happened?” Emery asked.
“Well, Walter looked... shocked; even sad. Like I did something wrong to him.”
Philip and the Haunted House (9781619500020) Page 4
