Stacey and the Mystery of Stoneybrook

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Stacey and the Mystery of Stoneybrook Page 8

by Ann M. Martin


  “I suppose that all of these events had a single cause,” he said. “All those restless spirits … they were all justly unhappy because a town had been built over their graves. And if Old Rubbernose had ever killed us all in our beds, it would have been because he was angry at us for building a house right on top of his grave.”

  I gasped. We hadn’t told Mr. Hennessey about the maps Kristy and Claud had found. Could all of his stories be true after all? None of us were able to say a word. I noticed that Claud was white as a sheet.

  “I think we should respect those spirits. I don’t blame them one bit for being upset about having their graves disturbed,” Mr. Hennessey went on. “All they want is to rest peacefully, with grass and sky over them. But then a house is built over them. And then, if that wasn’t enough, the house has to be torn apart and the earth around it defiled! It’s no wonder they’ve been reacting as they have.”

  “Are — are you saying that my neighborhood is haunted?” I asked.

  “Well, missy, I can’t say for sure,” he answered. “But you’ll know once the house is finally torn down.”

  That was supposed to happen the next day! What did he mean! What was going to happen?

  “How will I know?” I whispered. I could hardly speak.

  Mr. Hennessey wouldn’t answer. Kristy, Claud, and Charlotte just sat and gaped at him. I asked him again.

  He shook his head. “Sometimes people are safer not knowing,” he said. “I’d stay away from that house. I don’t like the sound of what you’ve seen and heard there.” He stopped with that and wouldn’t say another word about the house.

  I felt frustrated and more scared than ever. But Mr. Hennessey looked tired all of a sudden, so we decided it was time to leave. I thanked him, and he nodded wearily and raised his hand in a wave. “Just be careful,” he said.

  * * *

  Once again, we didn’t get much done at our club meeting later that day. Of course we answered the phone and arranged jobs and everything — nothing gets in the way of that — but that was about it. We spent the rest of the time talking about the house, and about Mr. Hennessey’s stories. Claud did a great rendition of the “Old Rubbernose” story — in fact, she really had us laughing for a few minutes. But by the time Charlotte and I walked home from the meeting, I wasn’t laughing anymore. Mr. Hennessey’s words echoed in my mind. “Just be careful.” It was a warning.

  The next day was Thursday, the day the house was scheduled to come down. I didn’t get much sleep at all on Wednesday night. Neither did Charlotte, judging by how bleary-eyed she looked at breakfast that morning. Once again I sleepwalked through all my classes that day. Maybe it was a good thing that the house was coming down at last. If this went on much longer, my grades might really suffer. Lately I just couldn’t concentrate on anything but that house.

  Charlotte and I had talked it over seriously and decided that we would pay attention to Mr. Hennessey’s warning. We would not go and watch as the house was torn down. Maybe Mr. Hennessey was a little crazy — or senile — but it didn’t matter to us. We didn’t know what might happen when the house was knocked down, and we didn’t plan to be there to find out. Our nightmares had been scary enough; we didn’t need to see the real thing.

  We were sitting on the front steps of my house, trying to talk about anything but the house, when we noticed that there seemed to be more traffic than usual on my street. Kids went by on bikes and skateboards. Moms pushed strollers. Older kids cruised by in their cars. Everybody was headed in the same direction. I guess the demolition of the old house was a major event in Stoneybrook. Everybody wanted to be there.

  Including Charlotte. “Stacey, why can’t we go if everybody else is going?” she asked. “Let’s go. Please?”

  Part of the reason I’d decided to stay home was for Charlotte’s sake. I’d been behaving less than responsibly toward her, exposing her to all these scary stories and everything. At least that’s how I was beginning to feel. But if she really wanted to go, maybe we should, I thought. Anyway, what could happen with such a big crowd of people around?

  “Okay, Charlotte. We might as well go,” I said. I took her hand and we set off down the street to join the party.

  As we got closer to the house, I started to see people I knew. I saw Suzi and Buddy Barrett standing on the corner together. They waved to us. All the Pike kids were there. They made a crowd all by themselves. The triplets were playing freeze tag with some other kids, and I heard Nicky teasing Claire by singing his version of “The Wheels on the Bus.” He sang, “The wheels on the bus go back and forth, back and forth …” Then, “The wipers on the bus go round and round, round and round …” Mallory, who was keeping an eye on her brothers and sisters, made him stop when Claire started to cry.

  Mary Anne was there with Jenny Prezzioso, whom she was sitting for that day. Jenny was dressed up for the occasion, which was nothing new. Jenny is always dressed up. She had on a white frilly dress with a pink pinafore over it. Her tights had rosebuds on them and she wore white party shoes with big pink bows on them. Charlotte stared at her while Mary Anne and I said hello. Jenny looked back at Charlotte and preened a little.

  “Do you like my most beautiful new dress?” she asked coyly.

  Charlotte seemed unsure of what to say, so I spoke up. “It’s very nice, Jenny. I hope it won’t get dirty, though, while you watch the house get torn down.” Maybe someday Mrs. Prezzioso will start dressing Jenny like a normal kid.

  Charlotte was waving at someone. I looked in that direction and saw Claud, with Myriah and Gabbie in tow. They looked excited by the action. It was exciting. It was like a fair or something, with all these people milling around. Some adults were there, too. I saw a woman who works at the bank talking with our mailman.

  Then I heard someone calling my name and turned around just in time to see Kristy drive by with her brothers Charlie and Sam. They parked, and she came over to stand with me and Charlotte.

  “This is the big day, right, Stacey?” she said. “I wonder if Mr. Hennessey’s stories were for real. I guess we’ll know for sure soon.”

  Just then the workmen came out of the house. I guess they’d been making some last-minute preparations. One of them got into the operator’s seat of a crane standing nearby and turned it toward the house. The big wrecking ball swung forward and crashed into the uppermost tower. This was it!

  The ball kept swinging and the crowd hushed as we all watched the house start to crumble before our eyes. Charlotte held my hand tightly. The few windows that were left in the house shattered as the ball shook the building. The porch railing finally let go entirely and fell off into the weeds below. It wasn’t long before the whole second story was gone, and it was clear that the rest of the job would go quickly. I started to calm down. It looked as though nothing were going to happen after all.

  Boy, was I wrong. Just then, I saw something very awful. The house — what was left of it — suddenly went up in flames. The fire crackled and roared as it engulfed the wreckage. I looked around, terrified. What should we do? But everybody was just standing there, looking slightly bored. Kristy had wandered off to talk to Sam. Charlotte was watching one of the workmen pack his tools away into his truck. Nobody else seemed to see the fire!

  I turned back to check again. Maybe I’d been imagining things once more. But the flames were even higher by now. Smoke curled up as the fire moved quickly through the tumble-down structure. And then, just as in my dream, I saw a figure. It was calling for help. It looked like an old, old man. Was it — could it be — Mr. Hennessey? I couldn’t believe my eyes. Just as in my dream, my feet were rooted to the ground. I wanted to help, but what could I do? Then I felt Charlotte tugging on my hand.

  “Let’s go, Stacey,” she said. “This is getting kind of boring. Nothing weird happened at all. I guess there wasn’t really any mystery after all. Mr. Hennessey probably is just a crazy old man.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. What was going on? W
hen I looked at the house again, there was no fire. But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it had to do with Mr. Hennessey. I felt like he needed help, and like it was up to me to go to him. It was the weirdest feeling, let me tell you, but it was overwhelming and I couldn’t ignore it.

  I dragged Charlotte over to where Claud stood with Myriah and Gabbie. “Claud, can you watch Charlotte for a little while? I’ve got to go see Mr. Hennessey, right now,” I said breathlessly. She must have thought I was nuts, but she just nodded. Charlotte looked up at me, confused. But there was trust in her eyes, too. I think she could see that somehow this meant a lot to me. I knelt down and gave her a hug. “Be good, Char. I’ll be back soon,” I said.

  I took off for Stoneybrook Manor, running until I got a stitch in my side, then walking, then running some more. I still didn’t understand exactly why I felt I had to go there, but the feeling was stronger than ever. It seemed to take ages to reach the home, but finally I stood on the sidewalk, just as I had yesterday, looking at Stoneybrook Manor. I took a deep breath, walked up the path, and pushed open the door. The man at the reception desk rose from his seat as I approached.

  “How may I help you?” he asked, just as he had yesterday. I could see that he didn’t remember me.

  “I … I’m here to see Mr. Ronald Hennessey, please,” I said. I was still breathing hard from all that running.

  The man’s eyes lit up. He did remember me! But then a sad look came over his face. He walked around his desk and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “I’m so sorry to have to give you this unhappy news, but Mr. Hennessey passed away just last night.”

  I was in shock. Mr. Hennessey was dead! I just couldn’t believe it.

  And I couldn’t say a word. I must have looked pretty silly. Finally, someone spoke. “Aren’t you Stacey McGill?” It was the woman, Ruth, who had wheeled Mr. Hennessey out to see us.

  “Mr. Hennessey couldn’t stop talking about you after you left,” she said. “He was very pleased to make your acquaintance. He left this note for you.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me.

  I took the note and thanked her. Then I walked over to the lounge and sat down to read it. Sure enough, my name was on the outside of the paper. “Miss Stacey McGill” it said, in an old-fashioned-looking script. I opened it up.

  “Dear Miss McGill,” I read. “I hope to be able to tell you this in person, but if for some reason I cannot, this letter will serve my purpose.”

  It was almost as if he’d known he was going to die! I read some more.

  “I enjoyed our brief meeting. You and your friends brought a moment of interest and a spark of fun to a lonely old man’s life. In fact, I’m afraid that I must confess to being a bit carried away with your ‘mystery.’”

  What was he saying?

  “I sincerely hope that my tall tales did not disturb you too greatly. And, to set the record straight, there was not one grain of truth in any of them! I know that children your age love a mystery, but please don’t be too sad that this one is over. That old house was nothing but a lovely and comfortable home for my family and me.”

  The note went on for a few more lines, but that was his basic message. There was no mystery after all. I felt relieved, but I was a little sad that it was all over. And I definitely felt sad that Mr. Hennessey was gone. He seemed to have known all about what we were going through, without our even having to tell him. Plus now we’d never know the whole truth about the house.

  I walked slowly out of the lobby and up the path. The honking of a car horn made me look up. Kristy waved at me from the backseat of Charlie’s car.

  “We came to pick you up, Stace!” she called. “Claudia told us you were here.”

  I was glad to see them, and not just because I wouldn’t have to walk home now. I still felt shaky, and it was good to see familiar faces and have someone to talk to. I climbed into the backseat. Charlie started the car and we drove off.

  I told Kristy about Mr. Hennessey. Then I showed her the note. She read it and smiled. “I knew it,” she said. “Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.”

  “But Kristy, what about all the weird things that happened to me and Charlotte?” I asked. “And to Claud and Mal? We still don’t know how to explain them.”

  “Listen to what Charlie and Sam have to say about that,” she said.

  It turned out that Sam and Charlie had spent some time talking with the workmen once the house was demolished. The workmen had explained the whole process they’d gone through in taking it down, and a lot of other things got explained along the way. Charlie and Sam had heard about our “mystery” from Kristy, so they were especially interested in clearing up some of the stranger things we’d seen and heard.

  “That moaning sound was the pipes, Stacey,” said Charlie, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “The plumbing was ancient, and it took those guys forever to get it out intact. But the Historical Society insisted.”

  Sam turned to smile at me. “And you know that fire you and Charlotte saw? Well, there was one workman who stayed behind that day. He was using an acetylene torch to loosen the bathtub from its fittings. It must have been his face you saw at the window that first day, too.”

  Kristy was grinning. “And remember those yucky flies that reminded you of that movie?” she said. “That was a bunch of bees whose hive had been disturbed by those guys. You’re lucky you didn’t get stung!”

  I listened to everything they said, and it was clearer and clearer that all the members of the Baby-sitters Club had let their imaginations work overtime. I guess we kind of enjoyed being scared. But there was still one mystery left. Why had I seen the house go up in flames when it was being knocked down? I guess I had just been imagining things again, remembering my nightmare. I decided to forget about that “fire.” If I told Kristy now, she’d think I was crazy!

  Kristy and I decided not to tell the others all the details that Charlie and Sam had told us. The mystery was over, but we didn’t have to take all the fun out of it for everyone else!

  I asked Charlie to drop me off at the Perkinses’ so I could pick up Charlotte. “Thanks for the ride,” I called as I hopped out.

  Claud was sitting on the front porch with Gabbie, Myriah, and Charlotte. She was reading to the girls from a book of fairy tales. They all looked up as I crossed the lawn. Then Charlotte hugged me.

  “Hi, Char,” I said. “Ready to go?” I looked over at Claud. She looked back at me curiously, but I just shook my head slightly, so she’d know that I didn’t want to talk about anything just then. We’ve been best friends for so long now that it doesn’t take much to get an idea across.

  “Thanks, Claud,” I said.

  Charlotte started to ask about my trip to Stoneybrook Manor, but I gave her a vague answer and then got her off the track by reminding her of what was going to happen in just a little while. “Charlotte, let’s go back to my house. Guess who’ll be there really soon?”

  “My parents!” she yelled, remembering. “They’re coming to get me today! ’Bye, Gabbie! ’Bye, Myriah! ’Bye, Claudia!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street.

  Charlotte and I spent the rest of the afternoon packing up her belongings. Then we played a few games of War while we waited for her parents to arrive. A couple of times she brought up the house and the “mystery,” but I steered the conversation away from those topics.

  We’d just gotten started on our fourth game of War (after that week I hoped I’d never play it again) when we heard a car pull into the driveway, honking. We ran to the window. Sure enough, it was the Johanssens. Charlotte tore down the stairs, flung open the front door, and raced into their arms.

  “Mommy! Daddy! Guess what? I got to go to the Baby-sitters Club meetings. And we had a mystery and it was real scary! And I was sick, very sick, but now I’m all better, and Stacey took good care of me!” She was bubbling over with all her news. Charlotte was definitel
y proud of herself for having survived a whole week without her parents.

  Dr. Johanssen and I smiled at each other over Charlotte’s head. Charlotte went on chattering about the old house and the mysterious noises we’d heard and the scary things we’d seen. I helped Mr. Johanssen pack Charlotte’s things into the already jammed backseat. As we juggled suitcases around to make everything fit, I quietly told him not to be concerned about Charlotte’s “mystery of Stoneybrook” tales.

  “We thought there was a big mystery, but there wasn’t really much of one in the end,” I said. “And it was scary at times, but it was fun scary, like a movie. I think Charlotte liked having a mystery to solve. It took her mind off missing you.”

  He told me that he understood. Then he thanked me for taking such good care of Charlotte. I told him it had been my pleasure. It really had, too!

  Charlotte came over to give me a big hug. It was time for her to go home. I reached into my pocket and handed her a tiny package. “This is for you, Char. But don’t open it until you get home,” I said. It was a couple of barrettes — glow-in-the-dark barrettes! Claud had gotten a pair for her last birthday, and we’d all thought they were the coolest. I knew Charlotte would love them.

  I hugged her one more time and then helped her into the backseat. Mr. Johanssen started the car and backed down the driveway. I stood and waved until they were out of sight.

  When I went back into the house, it seemed awfully quiet and still. I went to the guest room. It looked neat and tidy and very empty. I missed my “little sister.”

  Mom and I had a quiet dinner that night. As I was finishing the dishes, the phone rang. It was Charlotte.

  “I miss you, Stacey,” she said. “I wish you could be here to read Charlotte’s Web to me.”

 

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