“Come on,” I said, grabbing Sally’s hand. “We’re getting out of here!”
I expected the door to slam shut just as we got there, but it didn’t. It was like the house had decided to let us go for the time being.
As we ran down the driveway, away from the house, I looked back. Expecting to see a small, ghostly face in the window. The face of the little boy who’d died there a long time ago.
But the windows were empty. Like a row of broken glass eyes, as dark as the shadows that lurked inside the house.
“Come on,” Sally said, urging me on. “They’re almost here!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom and Dad,” she said. “They’re coming back.”
I took hold of Sally and stopped her in her tracks. “Hang on,” I said. “Don’t get your hopes up. Mom and Dad aren’t due back until the end of the week.”
Sally shook her head and stamped her feet. A sure sign that she was about to have a temper tantrum. For once in my life I couldn’t blame her—she’d been awake all night, running from the spirits that had taken over the house. And with the baby-sitter gone she wanted her mommy back, just like any four-year-old.
“Sally, listen to me,” I said. “We’ll be okay. We’ll go over to the neighbor’s house and use the phone from there.”
The moonlight was fading from the night sky. Soon it would be morning—maybe things would look better in the light of day. But Sally wasn’t in the mood to wait.
“They’re coming, Jason. Bobby told me they’re coming.”
Bobby told her. Great. Bobby was the little boy who’d died in the house. Bobby was a ghost. Bobby was scary but he wasn’t bad really. Just confused. And lonely. He wanted Sally to stay with him—even if she had to become a ghost too.
Unfortunately, Bobby wasn’t the only ghost. There was an evil witch who hated everything, especially children, even dead children like Bobby. And this horrible house wanted to kill me and Sally. I knew now that only ghosts could live here.
Of course my parents didn’t believe in ghosts—they thought Bobby was an “invisible friend” my sister had invented. They never heard the phantom voices or saw the skeleton creature that came out of the dark when you least expected it. They blamed it on my overactive imagination, or bad dreams, or the usual creaks and groans peculiar to an old house. And so they had gone away on a business trip, leaving my sister and me with Katie, a teenaged baby-sitter.
Katie hadn’t believed in ghosts, either. Not at first. But now she knew better. Better than to ever return to the house on Cherry Street.
“Mommy!” Sally cried. “Daddy!”
She let go of my hand and ran away before I could stop her. I shouted but she kept going, disappearing into the row of tall, shadowy pines that surrounded the house and hid it from the main road.
“Wait for me!”
I took off as fast as I could, but slipped and fell on the slick pine needles. WHAM! I landed hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
When I got my breath back I’d lost sight of my little sister.
“Sally,” I called out. “Come back!”
But there was no answer. Could that evil old witch-thing be chasing her? Sally wouldn’t run from little Bobby. She didn’t know anything about ghosts. She thought Bobby was her friend.
Sally didn’t understand how he wanted her to be his friend forever—to be a ghost like him.
I almost reached the road before I caught sight of Sally again.
She was jumping up and down at the side of the driveway in her pajamas, clutching her stuffed bunny and shouting, “Mommy! Mommy!” over and over.
Dropping down beside her, I said, “Sally, you shouldn’t run from me like that.”
“But Mommy and Daddy are coming,” said Sally, pointing down the road. “I saw them.”
Saw them? Impossible.
“You couldn’t have, Sally,” I said. “You can’t see the road from the yard.”
But Sally kept bouncing up and down, looking down the road like she expected Mom and Dad to drive up any second.
Well, at least we were away from the house. The sun was high enough now so it almost cleared the tops of the trees. In a little while we could go to Steve’s house and use the phone.
Steve’s family spent summers in the house next door. He’d help me figure out what to do.
Then I saw a glint of metal as a car rounded a bend in the road. My heart skipped a beat.
Hardly anybody drove down here. There was nothing at the end of Cherry Street but the lake. The only houses were a few summer cottages and our gabled old monstrosity.
I caught another glimpse of the car. This time there was no doubt. It was definitely our family station wagon! I wanted to leap for joy like Sally.
Then I remembered. The house was a total wreck. Our baby-sitter was in the hospital. And Mom and Dad didn’t believe in ghosts.
How was I going to explain it all?
3
“Jason! Sally!”
The car jolted to a stop. My dad had the window rolled down and he was leaning out and grinning at us.
“The job got through sooner than we expected,” he said. “How did you know we were coming?”
“What a nice surprise!” said my mom, getting out of the car. Then suddenly her smile faded and was replaced by a look of concern. “What’s Sally doing in her pajamas and no shoes?”
Dad checked out Sally and frowned. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Jay. And now that I think of it, where’s the baby-sitter? Don’t tell me you sneaked out here without telling her.”
“Um,” I said. “Yeah, well, you see …”
How was I going to tell them that a ghost had injured our baby-sitter?
“Bobby was in trouble,” said Sally helpfully. “Katie hit her head.”
“What!”
“Ah, what happened is, Katie got hurt,” I
