“The door opened. Someone called my name from up in the attic. At first I thought it was you, playing tricks again. But it wasn’t your voice. Anyhow, I went up into the attic. There was nobody there. At least not that I could see. Then I heard a noise behind me—like someone was standing there out of sight. I whirled around and that’s when the roof came crashing down on me.”
“It wasn’t the whole roof,” I said. “Just one beam and part of the ceiling.”
“Well, it sure felt like the whole roof. I couldn’t move. I tried shouting for you but you didn’t hear me.”
I said, “We were down at the lake. And Sally was sound asleep. It’s a good thing we came back when we did.”
Katie nodded and took another drink of water. “It sure is,” she said. “But that’s not all. When I was pinned under the beam someone came into the room. I could hear the footsteps. And then whoever it was started laughing.”
“Laughing?” I said.
“It was horrible,” Katie said with a shudder. “Horrible laughter. Cackling, like some old witch.”
I jumped up from the table. “That was her! The old witch ghost!”
Katie gave me a strange look. “There was something else,” she said. “She smelled terrible.”
“What do you mean, terrible?” I asked.
Katie looked at both of us. She took a deep breath and said, “She smelled like she was … dead.”
24
That night I went to bed with the lights on. Taking no chances. I didn’t even bother with pajamas, I just got under the covers with my clothes on.
No way was I going to fall asleep. Bad things happened when you fell asleep in this house.
So I sat up in bed and read a pretty cool sci-fi story, figuring that would keep me awake. And I ate peanut butter crackers, because the crumbs in the sheets would help keep me awake, too.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have. Because the next thing I knew the grandfather clock was chiming and I woke up with a start. Every muscle in my body was tense.
And the lights were out. I’d left them on, but now it was pitch black.
The clock.
BONGGGGGG. BONGGGGG. BONGGGGG.
In the daytime it was broken. It only came to life at night, when something terrible was about to happen.
I lay rigid as a board, waiting. Waiting.
There wasn’t long to wait. It was the same thing I’d heard before.
First a child crying, sounding scared and angry. Calling his mother.
“Mom-meeeeeeeeeeee.” A child’s voice echoing from the grave.
Then the patter of tiny running footsteps. A child running down the hallway outside my door.
And chasing him, heavier footsteps. Thump-thump-thump.
I heard the child panting, out of breath.
But still he came running, closer and closer.
It sounded like the panting was in my room. I could hear his frightened breath tearing from his chest—right beside my ear.
I bolted up in bed.
There was no one there. The room was dark and still.
Out in the hall the footsteps kept coming.
They ended in a sharp scream—aaahhhhhhhhhh!—as the boy went hurtling over the banister.
And there came the sickening thud of a small body hitting the floor.
My heart was pounding.
I lay down and pulled the covers over my head. The crying would start again soon but I wouldn’t get up.
No way. I was staying right here in my bed.
Listening to the little boy’s ghost was horrible but it no longer scared me. There was nothing I could do to make it stop. To make it better.
I closed my eyes tight.
Out in the hall a door opened.
“Who’s there?” called out a quavery voice.
Oh, no. It was Katie.
But that meant she could hear the ghost! Unlike Mom and Dad who never woke up no matter what happened.
I didn’t know if it was good or bad that she could hear it, too.
“Sally? Is that you?” she called out. “Are you all right?”
I wanted to yell at her to go back to bed.
Nothing good ever came of getting up in the night.
“Sally?” Katie’s voice was drifting away.
Oh, no! She was going downstairs.
I had to stop her. I whipped off the blankets and started for the door.
I had my hand on the doorknob when I heard the first scream.
25
The hallway was pitch-dark, as usual. The lights never worked on nights the old clock chimed.
Another scream pierced the air.
I hurried toward the stairs, feeling my way along.
A strange light glowed from downstairs. Then something smashed into a wall and glass tinkled over the floor.
Katie cried out and a second later there was the crash of something big falling.
Another shattering sound, another scream.
Furniture turned over and smashed. More glass broke. It was like the living room was turning itself upside down.
I saw a vase lift itself off the shelf of knick-knacks and hurtle down toward Katie at the bottom of the stairs.
“Get down, Katie!” I shouted.
Always before I had been the target. It was weird seeing it from this angle.
Peering around the banister, I could dimly see Katie cowering, dodging, trying to cover her head.
A figurine left the shelf behind me, then a silver tray, and a blue glass candy dish.
I gasped in surprise. From here I could see that none of this artillery was aimed directly at Katie. All the objects were shooting over her head toward something behind her.
“Katie! Keep your head down!” I called out. “Lie flat on the floor!”
Instantly she threw herself down.
And then I could see something behind her—a tall figure, hooded and draped in black. Around the thing the air seemed denser, as if no light could penetrate.
Oddly, this weird effect made the thing more horrible and easier to see at the same time. It was edged in black against the darkness.
It raised one arm. The arm was impossibly long, stretching sticklike to the ceiling.
A bright glint of metal caught my eyes. I gasped out loud.
Was the thing made of steel?
It moved and metal gleamed again.
A silver candlestick! It was holding a heavy candlestick over its head—that was what made the
