by R. L. Stine
“Josh — please!” I looked back up to the landing, and the girl was gone.
I felt cold all over. My legs were all trembly. I grabbed the banister.
“Dad! Come here — please!” I called.
Josh’s face filled with alarm. “Hey, I didn’t do anything!” he shouted.
“No — it’s — it’s not you,” I said, and called Dad again.
“Amanda, I’m kind of busy,” Dad said, appearing at the foot of the stairs, already perspiring from unpacking living room stuff.
“Dad, I saw somebody,” I told him. “Up there. A girl.” I pointed.
“Amanda, please,” he replied, making a face. “Stop seeing things — okay? There’s no one in this house except the four of us … and maybe a few mice.”
“Mice?” Josh asked with sudden interest. “Really? Where?”
“Dad, I didn’t imagine it,” I said, my voice cracking. I was really hurt that he didn’t believe me.
“Amanda, look up there,” Dad said, gazing up to the landing. “What do you see?”
I followed his gaze. There was a pile of my clothes on the landing. Mom must have just unpacked them.
“It’s just clothes,” Dad said impatiently. “It’s not a girl. It’s clothes.” He rolled his eyes.
“Sorry,” I said quietly. I repeated it as I started up the stairs. “Sorry.”
But I didn’t really feel sorry. I felt confused.
And still scared.
Was it possible that I thought a pile of clothes was a smiling girl?
No. I didn’t think so.
I’m not crazy. And I have really good eyesight.
So then what was going on?
I opened the door to my room, turned on the ceiling light, and saw the curtains billowing in front of the bay window.
Oh, no. Not again, I thought.
I hurried over to them. This time, the window was open.
Who opened it?
Mom, I guessed.
Warm, wet air blew into the room. The sky was heavy and gray. It smelled like rain.
Turning to my bed, I had another shock.
Someone had laid out an outfit for me. A pair of faded jeans and a pale blue sleeveless T-shirt. They were spread out side by side at the foot of the bed.
Who had put them there? Mom?
I stood at the doorway and called to her. “Mom? Mom? Did you pick out clothes for me?”
I could hear her shout something from downstairs, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Calm down, Amanda, I told myself. Calm down.
Of course Mom pulled the clothes out. Of course Mom put them there.
From the doorway, I heard whispering in my closet.
Whispering and hushed giggling behind the closet door.
This was the last straw. “What’s going on here?” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
I stormed over to the closet and pulled open the door.
Frantically, I pushed clothes out of the way. No one in there.
Mice? I thought. Had I heard the mice that Dad was talking about?
“I’ve got to get out of here,” I said aloud.
The room, I realized, was driving me crazy.
No. I was driving myself crazy. Imagining all of these weird things.
There was a logical explanation for everything. Everything.
As I pulled up my jeans and fastened them, I said the word logical over and over in my mind. I said it so many times that it didn’t sound like a real word anymore.
Calm down, Amanda. Calm down.
I took a deep breath and held it to ten.
“Boo!”
“Josh — cut it out. You didn’t scare me,” I told him, sounding more cross than I had meant to.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, staring at me from the doorway. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Huh? You, too?” I exclaimed. “What’s your problem?”
He started to say something, then stopped. He suddenly looked embarrassed. “Forget it,” he muttered.
“No, tell me,” I insisted. “What were you going to say?”
He kicked at the floor molding. “I had a really creepy dream last night,” he finally admitted, looking past me to the fluttering curtains at the window.
“A dream?” I remembered my horrible dream.
“Yeah. There were these two boys in my room. And they were mean.”
“What did they do?” I asked.
“I don’t remember,” Josh said, avoiding my eyes. “I just remember they were scary.”
“And what happened?” I asked, turning to the mirror to brush my hair.
“I woke up,” he said. And then added impatiently, “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Did the boys say anything to you?” I asked.
“No. I don’t think so,” he answered thoughtfully. “They just laughed.”
“Laughed?”
“Well, giggled, sort of,” Josh said. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he snapped. “Are we going for this dumb walk or not?”
“Okay. I’m ready,” I said, putting down my brush, taking one last look in the mirror. “Let’s go on this dumb walk.”
I followed him down the hall. As we passed the stack of clothes on the landing, I thought about the girl I had seen standing there. And I thought about the boy in the window when we first arrived. And the two boys Josh had seen in his dream.
I decided it proved that Josh and I were both really nervous about moving to this new place. Maybe Mom and Dad were right. We were letting our imaginations run away with us.
It had to be our imaginations.
I mean, what else could it be?
9
A few seconds later, we stepped into the backyard to get Petey. He was as glad to see us as ever, leaping on us with his muddy paws, yapping excitedly, running in frantic circles through the leaves. It cheered me up just to see him.
It was hot and muggy even though the sky was gray. There was no wind at all. The heavy old trees stood as still as statues.
We headed down the gravel driveway toward the street, our sneakers kicking at the dead brown leaves, Petey running in zigzags, first in front of us, then behind. “At least Dad hasn’t asked us to rake all these old leaves,” Josh said.
“He will,” I warned. “I don’t think he’s unpacked the rake yet.”
Josh made a face. We stood at the curb, looking up at our house, the two second-floor bay windows staring back at us like eyes.
The house next door, I noticed for the first time, was about the same size as ours, except it was shingle instead of brick. The curtains in the living room were drawn shut. Some of the upstairs windows were shuttered. Tall trees cast the neighbors’ house in darkness, too.
“Which way?” Josh asked, tossing a stick for Petey to chase.
I pointed up the street. “The school is up that way,” I said. “Let’s check it out.”
The road sloped uphill. Josh picked up a small tree branch from the side of the road and used it as a walking stick. Petey kept trying to chew on it while Josh walked.
We didn’t see anyone on the street or in any of the front yards we passed. No cars went by.
I was beginning to think the whole town was deserted, until the boy stepped out from behind a low ledge.
He popped out so suddenly, both Josh and I stopped in our tracks. “Hi,” he said shyly, giving us a little wave.
“Hi,” Josh and I answered at the same time.
Then, before we could pull him back, Petey ran up to the boy, sniffed his sneakers, and began snarling and barking. The boy stepped back and raised his hands as if he were protecting himself. He looked really frightened.
“Petey — stop!” I cried.
Josh grabbed the dog and picked him up, but he kept growling.
“He doesn’t bite,” I told the boy. “He usually doesn’t bark, either. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” the boy said, staring at Petey, who was squirming t
o get out of Josh’s arms. “He probably smells something on me.”
“Petey, stop!” I shouted. The dog wouldn’t stop squirming. “You don’t want the leash — do you?”
The boy had short, wavy blond hair and very pale blue eyes. He had a funny turned-up nose that seemed out of place on his serious-looking face. He was wearing a maroon long-sleeve sweatshirt, despite the mugginess of the day, and black straight-leg jeans. He had a blue baseball cap stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans.
“I’m Amanda Benson,” I said. “And this is my brother, Josh.”
Josh hesitantly put Petey back on the ground. The dog yipped once, stared up at the boy, whimpered softly, then sat down on the street and began to scratch himself.
“I’m Ray Thurston,” the boy said, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets, still staring warily at Petey. He seemed to relax a little, though, seeing that the dog had lost interest in barking and growling at him.
I suddenly realized that Ray looked familiar. Where had I seen him before? Where? I stared hard at him until I remembered.
And then I gasped in sudden fright.
Ray was the boy, the boy in my room. The boy in the window.
“You —” I stammered accusingly. “You were in our house!”
He looked confused. “Huh?”
“You were in my room — right?” I insisted.
He laughed. “I don’t get it,” he said. “In your room?”
Petey raised his head and gave a low growl in Ray’s direction. Then he went back to his serious scratching.
“I thought I saw you,” I said, beginning to feel a little doubtful. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe …
“I haven’t been in your house in a long time,” Ray said, looking down warily at Petey.
“A long time?”
“Yeah. I used to live in your house,” he replied.
“Huh?” Josh and I stared at him in surprise. “Our house?”
Ray nodded. “When we first moved here,” he said. He picked up a flat pebble and heaved it down the street.
Petey growled, started to chase it, changed his mind, and plopped back down on the street, his stub of a tail wagging excitedly.
Heavy clouds lowered across the sky. It seemed to grow darker. “Where do you live now?” I asked.
Ray tossed another stone, then pointed up the road.
“Did you like our house?” Josh asked Ray.
“Yeah, it was okay,” Ray told him. “Nice and shady.”
“You liked it?” Josh cried. “I think it’s gross. It’s so dark and —”
Petey interrupted. He decided to start barking at Ray again, running up till he was a few inches in front of Ray, then backing away. Ray took a few cautious steps back to the edge of the curb.
Josh pulled the leash from the pocket of his shorts. “Sorry, Petey,” he said. I held the growling dog while Josh attached the leash to his collar.
“He’s never done this before. Really,” I said, apologizing to Ray.
The leash seemed to confuse Petey. He tugged against it, pulling Josh across the street. But at least he stopped barking.
“Let’s do something,” Josh said impatiently.
“Like what?” Ray asked, relaxing again now that Petey was on the leash.
We all thought for a while.
“Maybe we could go to your house,” Josh suggested to Ray.
Ray shook his head. “No. I don’t think so,” he said. “Not now, anyway.”
“Where is everyone?” I asked, looking up and down the empty street. “It’s really dead around here, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you could say that,” he said. “Want to go to the playground behind the school?”
“Yeah. Okay,” I agreed.
The three of us headed up the street, Ray leading the way, me walking a few feet behind him, Josh holding his tree branch in one hand, the leash in the other, Petey running this way, then that, giving Josh a really hard time.
We didn’t see the gang of kids till we turned the corner.
There were ten or twelve of them, mostly boys but a few girls, too. They were laughing and shouting, shoving each other playfully as they came toward us down the center of the street. Some of them, I saw, were about my age. The rest were teenagers. They were wearing jeans and dark T-shirts. One of the girls stood out because she had long, straight blond hair and was wearing green spandex tights.
“Hey, look!” a tall boy with slicked-back black hair cried, pointing at us.
Seeing Ray, Josh, and me, they grew quiet but didn’t stop moving toward us. A few of them giggled, as if they were enjoying some kind of private joke.
The three of us stopped and watched them approach. I smiled and waited to say hi. Petey was pulling at his leash and barking his head off.
“Hi, guys,” the tall boy with the black hair said, grinning. The others thought this was very funny for some reason. They laughed. The girl in the green tights gave a short red-haired boy a shove that almost sent him sprawling into me.
“How’s it going, Ray?” a girl with short black hair asked, smiling at Ray.
“Not bad. Hi, guys,” Ray answered. He turned to Josh and me. “These are some of my friends. They’re all from the neighborhood.”
“Hi,” I said, feeling awkward. I wished Petey would stop barking and pulling at his leash like that. Poor Josh was having a terrible time holding on to him.
“This is George Carpenter,” Ray said, pointing to the short red-haired boy, who nodded. “And Jerry Franklin, Karen Somerset, Bill Gregory …” He went around the circle, naming each kid. I tried to remember all the names but, of course, it was impossible.
“How do you like Dark Falls?” one of the girls asked me.
“I don’t really know,” I told her. “It’s my first day here. It seems nice.”
Some of the kids laughed at my answer, for some reason.
“What kind of dog is that?” George Carpenter asked Josh.
Josh, holding tight to the leash handle, told him. George stared hard at Petey, studying him, as if he had never seen a dog like Petey before.
Karen Somerset, a tall, pretty girl with short blond hair, came up to me while some of the other kids were admiring Petey. “You know, I used to live in your house,” she said softly.
“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly.
“Let’s go to the playground,” Ray said, interrupting.
No one responded to Ray’s suggestion.
They grew quiet. Even Petey stopped barking.
Had Karen really said that she used to live in our house? I wanted to ask her, but she had stepped back into the circle of kids.
The circle.
My mouth dropped open as I realized they had formed a circle around Josh and me.
I felt a stab of fear. Was I imagining it? Was something going on?
They all suddenly looked different to me. They were smiling, but their faces were tense, watchful, as if they expected trouble.
Two of them, I noticed, were carrying baseball bats. The girl with the green tights stared at me, looking me up and down, checking me out.
No one said a word. The street was silent except for Petey, who was now whimpering softly.
I suddenly felt very afraid.
Why were they staring at us like that?
Or was my imagination running away with me again?
I turned to Ray, who was still beside me. He didn’t seem at all troubled. But he didn’t return my gaze.
“Hey, guys —” I said. “What’s going on?” I tried to keep it light, but my voice was a little shaky.
I looked over at Josh. He was busy soothing Petey and hadn’t noticed that things had changed.
The two boys with baseball bats held them up waist high and moved forward.
I glanced around the circle, feeling the fear tighten my chest.
The circle tightened. The kids were closing in on us.
10
The black clouds overh
ead seemed to lower. The air felt heavy and damp.
Josh was fussing with Petey’s collar and still didn’t see what was happening. I wondered if Ray was going to say anything, if he was going to do anything to stop them. But he stayed frozen and expressionless beside me.
The circle grew smaller as the kids closed in.
I realized I’d been holding my breath. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to cry out.
“Hey, kids — what’s going on?”
It was a man’s voice, calling from outside the circle.
Everyone turned to see Mr. Dawes coming quickly toward us, taking long strides as he crossed the street, his open blazer flapping behind him. He had a friendly smile on his face. “What’s going on?” he asked again.
He didn’t seem to realize that the gang of kids had been closing in on Josh and me.
“We’re heading to the playground,” George Carpenter told him, twirling the bat in his hand. “You know. To play softball.”
“Good deal,” Mr. Dawes said, pulling down his striped tie, which had blown over his shoulder. He looked up at the darkening sky. “Hope you don’t get rained out.”
Several of the kids had backed up. They were standing in small groups of two and three now. The circle had completely broken up.
“Is that bat for softball or hardball?” Mr. Dawes asked George.
“George doesn’t know,” another kid replied quickly. “He’s never hit anything with it!”
The kids all laughed. George playfully menaced the kid, pretending to come at him with the bat.
Mr. Dawes gave a little wave and started to leave. But then he stopped, and his eyes opened wide with surprise. “Hey,” he said, flashing me a friendly smile. “Josh. Amanda. I didn’t see you there.”
“Good morning,” I muttered. I was feeling very confused. A moment ago, I’d felt terribly scared. Now everyone was laughing and kidding around.
Had I imagined that the kids were moving in on us? Ray and Josh hadn’t seemed to notice anything peculiar. Was it just me and my overactive imagination?
What would have happened if Mr. Dawes hadn’t come along?
“How are you two getting along in the new house?” Mr. Dawes asked, smoothing back his wavy blond hair.
“Okay,” Josh and I answered together. Looking up at Mr. Dawes, Petey began to bark and pull at the leash.