“Forget the cereal,” I said. “What plan?”
Katie stared at me with bright eyes. “The tree,” she said. “We’ll chop down the tree!”
I slumped into a chair. What was she talking about? Had last night’s adventures unhinged her mind?
“That’s where he died, right?” she said. “Remember the newspaper clipping? It said Bobby died falling from the cherry tree.”
“Yeah,” I said. “So?”
“So if we chop it down, maybe that will free his spirit. The house won’t be haunted anymore.”
I stared at her. There was something about this plan that bothered me but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Come on,” said Katie, urging me on. “Let’s do it now.”
Reluctantly I agreed to help her. “We’ll need a chainsaw,” I suggested.
“No way,” Katie said. “Too dangerous. Didn’t I see a Boy Scout hatchet in your room?”
“You can’t chop down a tree with a hatchet,” I protested. “It’ll take forever.”
“We can make a start,” Katie insisted. “Show Bobby we’re trying.”
There was no arguing with her.
I got the hatchet. It felt surprisingly heavy in my hand and got even heavier as I approached the backyard.
Katie was waiting under the cherry tree, holding Sally by the hand. The branches spread high overhead, the leaves green and healthy.
“You wait over there,” she said to Sally, leading her away from the tree.
Sally stood there looking at us, solemn and silent, her bunny Winky dangling from her hand.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I said, hefting the hatchet. “Bobby seems to like this tree. It’s the only outside place that he goes.”
“He’s drawn to it, of course,” said Katie impatiently. “It’s only natural since his spirit is trapped here. Perhaps even a small cut will be enough to set him free.”
She stepped back briskly and nodded at me. “Go ahead.”
With a sigh I raised my arm, aimed at a spot in the old bark and started to swing.
I felt a sharp tug.
“Hey!”
The hatchet jerked out of my hand.
It whirled up in the air like a boomerang, flashing end over end.
And then it came back at us.
The flying hatchet glinted in the sun. The blade was razor sharp—and it was heading right for Katie.
“Look out!” I shouted. “Duck!”
Katie didn’t move. It was like she was frozen to the spot.
The hatchet whipped through the air, aiming for the place between her eyes.
It was too late. I couldn’t save her.
From a long way off I heard Sally scream.
31
There was nothing anyone could do—she was doomed!
Then, just as the flying hatchet was about to bury itself in Katie’s head, it veered sharply to the side.
Now it was headed straight for me—moving with the speed of a bullet!
No time to dodge out of the way.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the gleaming blade as it came closer and closer, tumbling end over end.
Then suddenly it vanished.
I felt the whisper of the whirling blade as it passed before my eyes, but it never touched me. It had disappeared into thin air!
I shook my head, dazed—and saw the hatchet buried to the hilt in the ground an inch from my foot.
Sally came running and threw her arms around me, sobbing. “Leave the tree alone!” she cried. “Don’t touch the cherry tree!”
“We won’t; don’t worry,” I said, my voice shaking from the close call.
Katie was still vibrating with fear. When she got her voice back she said, “Bad idea. I was wrong, I admit it.”
“Bobby says don’t hurt the tree!”
“We won’t. Tell him we won’t, okay?”
Sally looked up at Katie. “You have to promise,” she said.
“Okay,” said Katie, raising her voice. “I promise we won’t touch your precious tree!”
With Sally urging us on, we left the backyard and returned to the front porch. When Katie’s nerves had calmed, she made a pitcher of lemonade and brought the tray out to the porch.
“Whew!” she said, taking a seat. “That was a close call.”
I sipped the lemonade and said, “He could have killed us.”
Katie nodded. “Could have, but he didn’t. The ghost was trying to give us a message. He wants us to save him, right?”
I nodded. “Except we don’t know how.”
“I’ve got another idea,” said Katie. “You’re gonna love it.”
“Your last idea wasn’t so hot,” I pointed out.
“This is better,” she said. “Much better.”
She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the old photograph. “See this? Bobby and his mother, right?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“He showed it to us for a reason,” said Katie. “I think I know why. I’ll tell you my theory, but first we have to go down into the cellar.”
That made me spill the lemonade.
“No way,” I said.
Katie made a face and put her hands on her hips. “What are you afraid of?” she demanded.
“Oh, nothing much,” I said. “Just dying.”
32
Outside it was a bright summer day. You’d never know it down here, in the dark.
In the cellar shadows drank up all the light.
I couldn’t believe I was down here again.
My skin crawled with dread but Katie didn’t seem to sense anything strange.
“This place could do with a good cleaning,” she said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. “I bet it wouldn’t take more than a day to clear out all this junk. Put a couple more lights in and your dad could turn it into a really nice workroom.”
“We’re not staying that long,” I said.
“Now where’s that box?” she said, pawing through the piles of old junk. “I saw a box of old clothes down here somewhere.”
While she was searching I swept my flashlight beam behind the stairs to make sure nothing was lurking.
“I know this will work,” Katie was saying. “Why else would Bobby have showed us that picture? If his mother wasn’t in Europe she could have saved him from falling, right? So he wants me to dress up as his mother and save him. It’s perfectly logical.”
This was her big plan, her new idea, and I thought it was totally crazed.
“It’s just not logical,” I argued. “When we hear him
