“I’m Kristy Thomas,” I said. “And this is my brother Charlie. We’re very grateful to you.” I figured the only way to conquer my nervousness was to act self-confident, and it did seem to help.
“I’ll get you some supplies,” the man said. And just like that, he disappeared into the cottage, leaving Charlie and me standing alone on the front step. We looked at each other. Charlie raised his eyebrows, and I raised mine. Then I turned to the van and gave Bart the thumbs-up sign, to let him know things were okay. I also pointed to the big house and then laid my cheek on my folded hands, to let him know we’d be sleeping up there. He looked confused for a second, but then he nodded, and turned to tell the kids.
“Here you go,” said the man, startling me by reappearing suddenly. His arms were full of blankets. “Take these up there. You’ll need them if it gets cold tonight. And here are a couple of flashlights and a lantern.” He handed an armload to Charlie and disappeared again. Charlie took the stuff to the van, dashing through the rain that still fell heavily, but I stayed by the door. I was ready for the man when he appeared again.
“Don’t have much food here,” he said, “but I can spare a little.” He handed me a large paper bag and I looked inside it. I saw a jug of water, a loaf of bread, and some apples.
“Thank you very much,” I said. My stomach rumbled, and I suddenly realized that I was very hungry. I thought about the burger I’d been planning to order at Renwick’s with Bart. It would have been hot and juicy and covered with cheese and pickles and ketchup. My mouth watered. I looked at the apples again and swallowed. They’d be better than nothing, at least.
Charlie had come back to the door. He was dripping with rainwater. “I think we’re all set,” he said. “We certainly appreciate your help,” he added.
“One more thing,” said the man. He stepped forward and tossed Charlie a set of keys. “You’ll need those to get in.” Then he ducked back into the cottage doorway and pulled the door shut. Just as the door was closing, I heard him say, “I’ll see you in the morning … God willing.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I whispered to Charlie. We were still standing on the front step, frozen in place.
“Nothing,” said Charlie. “I mean, it’s just an expression. Something people say.” He frowned briefly, and paused. Then he grabbed the food bag out of my hands. “Come on, let’s get going,” he said, sounding impatient. I followed him back to the van, trying to put the man’s words out of my mind.
We climbed into the van, and as Charlie drove to the big house, through the pouring rain, I filled Bart and the kids in on what was happening. I didn’t mention how creepy the man seemed, though. No need to scare anyone. Anyway, he had been perfectly nice to us, letting us stay and giving us all those supplies. He just wasn’t overly friendly, and there was no reason he should be. Besides, we had other things to worry about.
“My parents are going to be really, really upset when I don’t come home,” said Jerry. “Can’t we call them?”
“I wish we could,” I said. “But there’s just no way. We’ll get out of here as soon as we can tomorrow morning, but for now we’re stuck.”
I heard some sniffling from the backseat. The last thing we needed, I thought, was for the kids to get upset and scared. I tried to sound perky. “We’ll have fun!” I said. “It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“But I don’t have any pajamas with me!” wailed Karen. “I want my Ariel pajamas!”
“But guess what,” said Bart. “We all get to sleep in our clothes tonight. Won’t that be cool?”
“Yay!” yelled several of the kids.
I flashed Bart a grateful look.
“Okay, here we are at our mansion,” said Charlie, pulling up to a huge, heavy wooden door. “I think it’s the butler’s night off, so we’ll just have to let ourselves in. Shall we, ladies and gentlemen?” Charlie had put on a silly accent. I smiled as the kids jumped out of the van. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
We hurried through the rain toward Charlie, who was fitting the key in the lock. The big door opened right away, and we saw an immense hallway spreading out before us. Some of the kids dashed inside. “Hold it!” I said. “We have some stuff to unload. And then I want everyone to stick together until we find our way around.”
We brought in the things the caretaker had given us and set them in the hall. Then Bart and I began to organize them. Food went in one pile, to be taken to the kitchen. Blankets went in another, to be taken to wherever we were going to sleep. Luckily, enough light was coming in through the big windows so that we could see without flashlights, even though it was a little dim inside the house.
We gathered the kids together and walked through the downstairs rooms. “Wow!” said Charlie, when he saw the living room. “Look at those paintings. I’ll bet they’re worth a lot.”
I was too busy checking out the comfy-looking sofas that were grouped around an immense fireplace. I was trying to figure out if we could sleep on them without ruining the expensive-looking fabric they were upholstered in.
The next room was a formal dining room, with a table twice as big as the one in my house. There were twenty — I counted — chairs with beautiful needlepoint seats set around it, and an elegant silver bowl had been placed in the center of its gleaming surface.
“I bet the kitchen’s through there,” said Joey, pointing. Sure enough, a big, fancy kitchen adjoined the dining room. I ran to the hallway to retrieve our food. When I returned to the kitchen, the kids were exclaiming over the huge cookstove that stood in one corner.
“They used to burn wood in these,” Jackie said to me. “Bart told us. And they’d cook on it.”
“There’s a gas stove, too,” said Charlie, “in case we want to boil water or anything.”
Suddenly I noticed that there seemed to be too few kids standing around. “Where’s David Michael?” I asked. Nobody answered.
Just then, before I had a chance to freak out, I heard David Michael calling, “Come here, you guys! Check it out!”
We followed the sound of his voice and found him standing in an incredible room. I looked around and saw: floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books, plush rugs, rich brown leather chairs, needlepoint pillows, brass lamps, and — a full-sized pool table! “Wow,” I breathed, looking at the smooth green surface, which was surrounded by gleaming dark wood. A chandelier hung over the middle of the pool table, with thousands of crystal droplets that seemed to cascade from a central circle. This mansion was even fancier than Watson’s.
“Quite a shack we’re stuck in,” said Bart with a smile.
“You know, though,” said Charlie. “There’s something odd about all this.” He waved his hand as if to indicate the whole house. “I mean, take a sniff. What do you smell?”
I sniffed. “Nothing,” I said.
“Leather,” said Karen.
“It’s not musty, is what I mean,” said Charlie. “And there isn’t a speck of dust anywhere. This house is kept up pretty well considering no one lives in it.”
“I guess that old man’s just a really good caretaker,” I said, to cover up the fact that Charlie’s words had given me another one of those darn chills. “Anyway,” I said, trying to change the subject, “maybe we should have something to eat. I know I’m hungry.”
Karen had wandered over to a window, and was watching the tree branches toss in the wind outside. The storm seemed to be lasting forever. I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulder. “Coming?” I asked. I could tell she was feeling upset.
“Okay,” she said in a small voice. Her lower lip was trembling. “I guess we really are stuck here.” I nodded and gave her a comforting hug. It was going to be a long night.
Mary Anne and Dawn returned from Redfield later than they had planned. They had gotten a ride home with the Pikes, and with the rain coming down so hard the drive had been slow. Plus, they’d had to stop at the supermarket, since Mrs. Pike needed to pick up milk. When she dropped
them off at their house, Mrs. Pike reminded Mary Anne about the sitting job that evening.
“I’ll be over in about a half hour,” replied Mary Anne. “I just want to get into some dry clothes.”
Mary Anne and Dawn dashed through the rain to their front porch. They stood there for a few minutes, looking out at the storm. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” said Dawn.
Thunder rumbled loudly, and the sky lit up with distant lightning. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it rain quite like this either,” Mary Anne replied. “It’s pouring.” Sheets of water ran off the porch roof, and she held out her hand to feel the cascade.
Dawn was wringing out her long hair, which had gotten soaked during the short run from the Pikes’ car to the porch. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said, “and get ready for my job at the Barretts’.”
“I’ll be in in a minute,” said Mary Anne. She continued to gaze out at the wet world the front yard had become. Huge puddles were forming everywhere, and the trees tossed in the wind. Most of the flowers in the garden were bent over, pounded by the rain. And the rain kept on coming. It seemed, Mary Anne told me later, as if the rain would never stop.
Finally, Mary Anne went inside. The house was quiet, since her dad and Dawn’s mother were out running errands. She headed for her room, took off her wet clothes, and dried her hair with a towel. Then she found a clean pair of jeans and her favorite sweat shirt and put them on. Immediately, she felt cozy and warm. She checked her watch. It was almost time to head for the Pikes’.
Downstairs again, Mary Anne rummaged in the hall closet until she found her father’s huge umbrella and her hooded slicker. She was looking for her rain boots when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” called Dawn, who had just come downstairs with a towel wrapped around her head. She answered the phone and talked for a few minutes. Then Mary Anne heard her say, “Hold on a second. I’ll ask Mary Anne.” Dawn dashed into the hall with a strange look on her face.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mary Anne.
“It’s Watson Brewer,” said Dawn. “He says Kristy and Charlie and everyone haven’t come back yet. Watson was expecting them an hour ago, and they haven’t called or anything.”
“That’s strange,” said Mary Anne.
“I know. Watson seems pretty worried.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” said Mary Anne. “They probably just got slowed down by the storm. Maybe Charlie pulled over for awhile to wait out the rain.”
“I bet that’s what happened,” said Dawn, sounding relieved. “I’ll tell Watson.” She went back to the phone.
Mary Anne put on her slicker and her boots. Then she looked at herself in the hall mirror and burst out laughing. “Lucky thing Logan can’t see me now,” she thought. “See you, Dawn,” she called. “Have fun at the Barretts’!” She headed out the door and put up the umbrella. The rain was still pounding down, but at least this time Mary Anne was ready for it. The slicker and boots, as funny as they looked, did do the trick. She walked quickly to the Pikes’, dodging puddles and jumping over the streams of water that flowed down either side of the street.
Soon Mary Anne stood on the Pike porch, shaking out her umbrella. She took off her slicker and shook it out, too. Then she knocked on the door. She heard pounding feet inside, and then the door was flung open. The triplets (who are ten years old) stood there, grinning at her.
“Ih, mi nadroj,” said Jordan.
“Mi mada,” said Adam.
“Mi noryb,” said Byron.
Mary Anne looked at them, mystified. “What?” she asked.
They repeated what they’d said, only this time they all spoke at the same time. Their words sounded even more like gobbledygook. Mary Anne shook her head and grinned back at them. “I don’t know what you’re saying, but it’s good to see you guys.”
“Hi, Mary Anne,” said Mallory, coming into the front hall. “Don’t mind these guys. They’re talking backward. They’ve been doing it for hours.”
“Ohhh,” said Mary Anne, finally understanding. “I get it.”
The triplets ran off, shouting, “Eybdoog!”
“Makes them kind of hard to understand,” Mary Anne said to Mal.
“I know,” said Mal. “But it keeps them busy, and I’m happy for that. Come on in. My parents already left. We’re just hanging out until suppertime.”
The rest of the Pike kids were in the rec room. Vanessa was sitting on the couch with a notebook in her hand. “Hi, Mary Anne,” she said. “Guess what I’m doing.”
“Writing?” asked Mary Anne. She knows that Vanessa plans to be a poet one day.
“Yup,” said Vanessa. “I’m writing some new cheers for the Krashers. It looks like they’re going to be playing lots of games this year, so I thought they should have their own cheers. Want to hear one?”
“Sure,” replied Mary Anne.
“Krashers, Krashers, you’re okay!” yelled Vanessa. “Hit that ball, make that play!” She beamed at Mary Anne.
“Very nice,” said Mary Anne.
“Mary Anne! Mary Anne!” yelled Claire, just as Vanessa began another cheer. “Will you spin the dial for us? We want to play Twister.”
Claire, who’s five, Margo, who’s seven, and Nicky were looking up at Mary Anne with expectant faces. (Remember Nicky? He’s a Krasher — the one who went home with his parents that day instead of coming with us in the van.) They had already spread the Twister mat on the floor. “Sure, I will,” said Mary Anne.
“While you do that, I’ll see what we’ve got for supper,” said Mal.
Mary Anne settled in for a game of Twister.
“I’m going first!” said Claire. “Margo got to go first last time.”
Mary Anne saw the potential for a squabble, and decided to head it off. “I’m thinking of a number between one and ten,” she said. “Whoever guesses the closest gets to go first.” Her method worked very well. By chance, Claire picked four, which was the number Mary Anne had been thinking of. Nicky picked five, and Margo picked nine, so Nicky got the second turn.
“Okay, Claire, are you ready?” asked Mary Anne. She spun the dial. “Left foot, red,” she said.
Claire put her right foot on a red circle.
“No, no, no, you dumbhead,” said Nicky. “Your left foot.”
“Your sister is not a dumbhead,” said Mary Anne. “Here’s a new Twister rule: you have to be nice to each other.” Mary Anne can’t stand it when people tease or insult or call names. “Claire, try the other foot,” she said gently.
Soon Claire, Margo, and Nicky were all tangled up on the mat and giggling like crazy. Mary Anne heard the phone ring, but she figured Mallory would answer it, so she kept on spinning. A few minutes later, Mallory joined Mary Anne in the rec room. “That was Dawn. She was calling from home, because the Barretts canceled their plans.” She raised her eyebrows at Mary Anne.
Mary Anne looked at her and saw that Mal was trying to tell her something without letting the younger kids hear it. “You mean —” she said, guessing that Buddy Barrett had not come home yet, which meant that Bart and Charlie and I and the other kids were still missing.
“Right,” said Mal. “Dawn told me about that other call from Watson. He’s called again, twice.”
“And there’s still no word?” Mary Anne asked.
Mallory shook her head, looking worried. “None,” she replied.
“Wow,” said Mary Anne.
“Mary Anne!” said Margo. “Spin!”
Mary Anne spun. “Okay, Nicky,” she said. “Right hand, yellow.”
“It’s my turn, not Nicky’s,” said Claire.
“Oh, right,” said Mary Anne. “Okay, then you do that.” She felt completely distracted, but she was trying not to show it.
Jordan came into the room then. “Mi yrgnuh,” he said.
“What?” asked Mary Anne.
Adam and Byron were right behind him. “Emit rof reppus,” said Adam.
Mallory translated. “You’re hungry, and you think it’s time for supper?” she asked.
“Sey,” said Byron. The triplets cracked up.
So did Claire, Nicky, and Margo, who had just collapsed in a giggling heap. At that moment the phone rang again. Mallory ran to answer it, and Mary Anne helped the younger kids put away their game. “Go wash up now,” she said. “Then we’ll have supper.”
Mary Anne headed for the kitchen, where she found Mal hanging up the phone. “That was Claudia,” she said. “She’s about to go over to the Newtons’, but she wanted to let us know that Bart’s father just called her.”
“Did he know anything?” asked Mary Anne.
Mal shook her head. “No,” she said. “He was hoping she did.”
“Oh, no,” said Mary Anne. She was beginning to feel seriously worried. And for the rest of the night, that was the state she was in: seriously worried. All through supper there were phone calls, and by the end of the evening it was clear that the Krashers and I had not made it home through the storm. Watson had alerted the police. The parents of the Krashers were all calling each other. Everybody was waiting to hear that the Krashers had been found. But no word came. And the rain just kept on pouring down.
“Kristy?” I turned to see who was tugging on my sleeve. It was Jackie. We were all in the kitchen at the old mansion, and Bart and Charlie and I were dividing up the food the old man had given us. We’d decided that we should try to save half of it for the morning, even though that meant we were going to stay pretty hungry that night.
“What is it, Jackie?” I asked.
“My mom is going to be really worried about me, isn’t she?” Jackie looked as if he were about to burst into tears.
I didn’t know what to say. It was true. Our parents were going to be worried sick, and there was nothing we could do about it.
Charlie jumped in. “Jackie, listen to me. All of you kids, come here and listen.” The kids gathered around Charlie. Most of them looked scared. I heard sniffles, and saw Karen drag her sleeve across her eyes. “It’s true that your parents will be worried,” Charlie said. “But here’s the thing. They’ll all call each other, and when they figure out that none of us has come home, they’ll know that we’re still together. That will make them feel better, especially since they know you’re with Kristy and Bart.”
Kristy and the Haunted Mansion Page 3
