That stopped her. For about a second.
“Well,” she said. “Maybe one of us should stay out under the tree while the other—”
“No!” I interrupted. “We have to stay together. Upstairs. Where we heard him fall.”
Katie cocked her head, considering, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s get started.”
As she headed for the boxes a long cobweb snagged at her thick red hair but Katie just brushed it away impatiently.
I followed. Something moved at the edge of my vision but when I looked nothing was there. The muscles under my skin began to jump with tension.
How did I let myself get talked into this?
Some Looney Tunes baby-sitter wants to play dress-up and talks me into going back down into a haunted cellar—I had to be as crazy as she was.
“Look! This is it! The very same hat,” cried Katie, pulling the picture out of her pocket to compare.
She was right. The wide-brimmed hat she’d found was the same one the woman had worn in the old photograph.
Katie clapped the dusty old hat on her head and continued rooting around in the boxes.
Meanwhile I jumped at every little creak and rustle.
“Hold that beam steady, will you?” complained Katie. “I can’t see when you keep bobbing it around like that.”
I concentrated on keeping the flashlight beam steady.
The longer we stayed down here the tighter my nerves stretched. Katie was having the time of her life—she was so sure that her plan would work, nothing could convince her otherwise.
Finally she found a long dark dress that she thought matched the one in the picture. She held it up to see if it would fit.
“Great. Let’s get out of here,” I said.
A soft, cackling sound came from the dark corner.
“What was that?” said Katie, freezing.
“What did it sound like to you?” I asked as casually as I could.
Katie shrugged. “Pipes gurgling, I guess. Wait! Something moved,” she said, and pointed into a dark corner.
I picked up an old shoe and threw it where she pointed.
A terrified mouse scuttled out from under some junk and disappeared.
But it wasn’t a mouse I’d heard.
That evil laugh could only belong to the witch. And if she was laughing, then we were in trouble.
33
It was almost midnight in the house on Cherry Street.
The haunting hour.
We were waiting in Katie’s room. Sally was sleeping in Katie’s bed, where we could keep an eye on her.
Katie sat across from me in a rocking chair, wearing the long black dress and the wide-brimmed hat and a pair of antique shoes.
It gave me a creepy feeling to look at her. She looked exactly like the woman in the photograph. More like a grown-up than a baby-sitter.
I sort of hoped the ghost wouldn’t come tonight. Then maybe Katie would change her mind. I couldn’t put it into words, but I thought Katie dressing up as Bobby’s mother was a really bad idea.
“Jason?”
I’d almost fallen asleep. “Did you hear something?” I asked.
Katie shook her head. “I’m just a little worried,” she said. “What if I’m doing the wrong thing?”
“If you feel that way, let’s call it off,” I suggested eagerly.
But just then the broken grandfather clock began to chime. Bobby was coming.
We’d run out of time.
The haunting began like always. Footsteps in the hall.
The small steps of a frightened little boy.
“We’ve got to try,” Katie whispered, gathering her courage. “We’ve got to save him.”
She took a deep breath, straightened the hat on her head, and opened the door.
As she stepped out into the hallway the lights went out.
The walls began to glow with a faint, ghostly light.
“Give it to me, it’s miiiiinnnnnnne!” A raspy voice echoed from the darkness.
It was too dark to make out Katie’s face, but I saw her shiver.
I wanted to run out in the hall and pull her back into the room but it was too late.
The footsteps were already running toward us.
“Mine!” screamed the terrible voice. “It’s mine, all mine!”
Katie hurried to the end of the hallway. The long black dress made rustling noises.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was the woman from the photograph.
Katie stood with her arms outstretched at the spot where we heard Bobby go over the banister, night after night.
She became a ghostly shadow in the darkness.
The child’s footsteps came faster, faster than any little kid could run.
“Help!” screamed a child’s voice. “Help me pleeeeeeeeease!”
And then came the heavy tread of the pursuer, boom-boom-boom.
It all seemed to take so long. It was like time stood still. As if the scared little boy was running and running and not getting anywhere.
But now he was close. Almost here.
I tensed. In another few seconds it would all be over.
Closer, closer.
Suddenly a piercing scream shattered the air. It was like no scream I’d ever heard before.
It was a scream of pure terror, much worse than the desperate cry we always heard when the child went over the banister.
The sound pierced my heart like a knife.
I felt something brush past me like the wind. It almost knocked me off my feet as it hurtled toward Katie.
She crouched with outstretched arms, wanting to save a ghost she couldn’t see.
Then something smashed into her!
The force of the blow threw her up off her feet, against the banister rail.
For an instant she seemed to hang in the air. Then she fell.
I ran to the railing, bracing myself for the sound of her body hitting the floor.
Cackling laughter filled the air.
34
I leaned over the railing, expecting to see Katie falling to the floor.
The witch-thing stared up at me, inches from my face.
A white claw grabbed at me but I jumped back.
“Jason! Help!”
It was Katie’s voice. What I’d thought was the witch-thing was Katie, dangling over the stair banister, high above the floor. Her long dress had caught on the top of the banister.
As all this shot through my fevered brain, I heard the dress rip.
I sprang forward and grabbed her just as the old
