I opened my bedroom door and immediately slipped on something. I slid right across the room. Whaaat?
Glancing down, I saw bits of myself looking up at me from all over the floor.
As I caught my balance my foot skidded again and I almost fell. My feet crunched. There were big chunks of mirrored glass all over the floor!
Then I looked across the room and didn’t see myself.
The mirror in the closet door was gone! Smashed to pieces.
Obviously the witch had taken her sledgehammer to my mirror. And I knew why.
It was because of the message Bobby had put there last night.
That proved I was on the right track.
I swept up the broken glass, then headed back downstairs, keeping the image of the trunk in the front of my mind. I wouldn’t think about anything else. I’d get it and get out.
The witch was scared, right? That’s why she smashed my mirror. Maybe she was even more scared than me.
Don’t think about being scared, Jay, I told myself. Don’t think at all—just do it.
I unbolted the basement door. It creaked loudly as it swung open.
Get a grip, Jay. Grab that trunk and get out before the witch-thing knows you’re there.
I took a deep breath, flipped on the light switch, and plunged down the stairs.
There, I’d made it. And nothing had touched me. But where was the trunk?
I stopped, my heart pounding, and looked around frantically.
The old trunk wasn’t where it was supposed to be.
I gritted my teeth in a panic. The witch-thing must have seen me by now. Any second she’d come roaring out of the shadows.
Then I saw it!
The trunk was pushed back against the wall, almost hidden behind a tall stack of boxes.
I waded into the mess, pushing boxes out of my way, heaving lamps and footstools and old shoes to the side to make a path.
Not only did I have to reach the trunk, the second part of my plan was to drag it back up with me.
I was making a lot of noise and concentrating on reaching my goal as fast as possible. So it was no surprise I didn’t hear her behind me.
It was the stink that warned me.
21
All of a sudden I was gagging from the garbagey, dead-for-a-hundred-years smell.
I spun around.
The witch-thing leaped from behind a box, her eyes glowing in the dark.
“Arrrrrggggg! You miserable boy!” shrieked the creature.
Her sharp claws sank through the material of my shirt.
Riiiip!
My shirt tore as I slung her off me in terror.
She hissed, yellow eyes glowing and quick as a flash I raised the baseball bat and swung. I heard a crunch as the bat connected.
“Ahheeee!” The witch screamed and vanished back into the shadows.
I was breathing hard but there was no time to rest. I grabbed the handle of the trunk.
It was lighter than I expected.
But what had I thought was in it? A body?
I heaved and hauled the trunk through the path I’d sort of made, banging into boxes and knocking things over.
Then I was clear of the mess of junk and halfway to the stairs. The bottom of the trunk scraped over the dirt floor as I dragged it, my breath sounding ragged in my ears.
I reached the stairs and started humping it up, making an awful racket.
My heart was ready to burst with effort.
Suddenly a black shape darted out of the darkness and rushed me.
The witch was back. Hissing and spitting, she grabbed hold of the handle on the other end of the trunk.
“Mine!” she moaned. “Mine!”
I yanked back harder but I was nearly out of strength.
She pulled the trunk down a step, then another, dragging me down, too.
The witch had won again—but I couldn’t let go.
My hand seemed permanently frozen to that handle. She was pulling my arm right out of its socket!
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I started to imagine all the horrible things the creature would do to me when she got me back down into the basement.
“The trunk is mine!” she hissed. “And so are you!”
Panic rushed through my veins.
With the last of my strength I braced my feet on the stairs, gripped the handle as hard as I could, and tugged with all my might.
The other handle broke!
The witch-thing tumbled down the stairs with an awful screech and sprawled on the dirt floor.
“I’ll get you!” the creature moaned. “I’ll get you yet!”
Then she scuttled back into the shadows like a wounded thing.
Losing no time, I hauled the trunk up into the kitchen.
Safe at last! Totally out of breath, I collapsed against the basement door—after bolting it shut.
A door opened down the hall.
“Jason? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mom.” I jumped guiltily. Where could I hide the trunk?
“What was all that noise? Is everything okay?”
“Noise?” I moved into the hallway so she wouldn’t have to come into the kitchen to talk to me.
Mom had a blue pencil behind her ear and a calculator in her hand. “Clattering, banging. Was that you?”
Dad’s voice came from inside the room. “Carol, I need you to look over these calculations. We may have a problem here.”
“I was just playing, Mom,” I assured her, disappointed she hadn’t heard the witch’s screeching.
She gave me one of those considering looks, the kind that meant she was suspicious about my answer.
My heart sank. In a minute she’d come into the kitchen and see the trunk and demand all kinds of explanations. Then my dad called her again and she reached a decision.
She turned back into the office.
“We’re going to be working a while longer,” said Mom. “Maybe you could look in on Sally.”
“Sure, Mom.”
I went back to the kitchen. I couldn’t leave the trunk here. I’d have to carry it up to my room. Mom almost never went in there. She might not even see it.
I called up Steve and got him to come over. He was eager to help now that it was out of the basement. We hauled it up to my room and set it in the center of the floor.
“What do you think is
