Besides, I wasn’t at all sure Bobby would let us leave. Not all of us, anyway.
Not Sally.
“We’ll discuss it outside,” Dad insisted, keeping his grip on my arm.
Sally struggled to get away from Mom, then broke free just as we reached the front door.
Sally raced back to the stairs. “Bobby!” she cried. “I’ll help!”
Trailing her blanket, she started up the stairs.
Horrified, I shook off Dad’s hand and went after her.
Seeing me, she went faster. Above us Bobby’s footsteps pounded. His thumping heart vibrated against the walls of the house.
I reached for Sally. She twisted to avoid me and tripped on the end of her blanket. I grabbed her with one hand and raced back down the stairs.
The walls wheezed in and out with each of Bobby’s sobbing breaths. Floorboards cracked under the heavy tread of the nanny who was chasing him to his death.
“We’ve got to save Bobby,” I shouted. “It’s the only way!”
Mom and Dad stared at me white-faced.
“How can we?” cried Mom. “The poor little boy is already dead. We can’t change that.”
There was no time to explain.
The running footsteps were right overhead. A floorboard crunched as the nanny reached out to grab Bobby.
“Quick,” I yelled. “Grab the blanket!”
40
Somehow they knew what I meant.
Between us we shook out Sally’s blanket and each of us held an end, so it was like a safety net.
All around us the house creaked and groaned. Plaster fell from the ceiling in huge chunks. Pictures dropped off the walls. Lamps crashed to the floor.
But none of us moved. We stood our ground.
Bobby screamed. There was a sharp CRACK! as his small body crashed through the banister rail.
Then a piercing scream of terror as the body we couldn’t see hurtled through the air headed right for us.
THUMP!
Something heavy but invisible landed square on the blanket.
The clock began to strike crazily but we held on for dear life.
I don’t know how long we stood there, rooted to the spot. But all at once we became aware of the silence.
The storm was over. And Bobby was really gone.
Slowly we lowered the blanket to the floor.
I stiffened. Mom gasped. There was a small lump under the blanket when we put it down.
Quickly I lifted the blanket and looked underneath. With a shout of surprise I whipped the blanket away.
There was an old teddy bear lying on the floor. A brown teddy bear with a raggedy, mended ear.
Sally let out a cry of delight and swept the mangy bear into her arms. She looked at me with a big smile.
“We did it,” she said. “We saved Bobby!”
Then something over my shoulder made her eyes go wide.
“Look!” cried Sally. “Look!”
My stomach churned as I whipped around.
And then a huge feeling of happiness, like a wave, washed right through me.
The living room mirror was glowing. Bobby looked out from the center of it, a smile of happiness on his face, his eyes lit up with joy. He was waving at us.
Behind him, deep in the light, were two figures running toward him. As they came closer we could see one was a man, one a woman, and both were dressed in outdated clothes.
For a second my heart lurched with doubt—could there be more people chasing poor little Bobby?
Then their faces came into view. They were the happiest faces I’d ever seen. Tears of joy streamed from the woman’s eyes as she fell to her knees and embraced Bobby. The man hugged them both, laughing for joy—although we couldn’t hear him.
“They must be Bobby’s mom and dad,” whispered my mother in awe, her own voice breaking.
The three ghostly images turned away from us. The parents each took one of Bobby’s hands and they all began to walk away into the light.
Once or twice Bobby twisted around to smile at us again.
I had to blink hard to keep from crying myself.
As they disappeared into the light, the glow followed, fading away. But as the last of the light winked out we saw words burned into the surface of the mirror.
The words said:
THANK YOU AND GOOD-BYE.
Filled with peace, we stared into the mirror, all of us linking hands, unwilling to move and break the wonderful spell.
Then the phone jangled. We all jumped.
“Who on earth—” muttered Mom, heading for the door.
My nose wrinkled. A horrible stink was rushing into the room. The hairs on my neck prickled with dread.
The nightmare was starting all over again.
41
“What’s that smell?” asked Dad, cocking his head and looking worried.
“It’s the w—”
“Gasoline!” Dad exclaimed. “I smell gasoline.”
Just then Mom came running in. Even in the dark I could see her face had gone ghostly white. I knew what she was going to say.
“That was the hospital,” she told Dad in a stricken voice. “Miss Everett has escaped. Hours ago, they think. She may be on her way back here.”
“HAAAHAHAHAHAHEEEHEEEHAAAA!”
For a few seconds we were rooted to the spot as the old lady’s insane laughter stunned us, seeming to come from all directions at once.
Her evil voice came out of the darkness, gleefully taunting us, “I told you I’d be back!”
I whipped my head around but I couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.
Dad sniffed and then I smelled it, too: smoke!
“Quick,” said Dad. “We’ve got to get out of here, now! Stay together.”
He spread out his arms and shepherded us all through the dark toward the front door. The smell of burning wood grew stronger and Sally began to cough and choke on the rising smoke, hugging the mangy teddy bear to her chest.
It was hotter in the front hall. Dad stopped us. “Stay here until I get the front door open,” he said, sounding strangely frightened.
Smoky sweat dripped into my eyes and stung.
Dad reached for the front doorknob. As he touched it, he let out a cry of pain, and at the same moment a tongue of flame darted from underneath
