The three Sadler kids had clustered together.
“Come on. Do you guys really believe in ghosts?” Terri asked.
Louisa took a step forward. Sam tried to pull her back, but she brushed him off. “If you go near that cave, you might change your mind,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“You mean there are ghosts in there?” I asked.
“What do they do? Come out at night or something?”
Louisa started to reply, but Sam interrupted. “We’ve got to go now,” he said, scooting his brother and sister past us.
“Hey—wait!” I called. “We want to hear about the ghosts!”
They hurried on. I could see Sam yelling angrily at Louisa. I guess he was upset because she mentioned the ghosts.
They disappeared down the beach.
Then, from inside the cave we heard that long, low whistle again.
Terri stared at me.
“It’s the wind,” I said. I really didn’t believe that. Terri didn’t believe it, either.
“Why don’t we ask Brad and Agatha about the cave?” I suggested.
“Good idea,” Terri said. Even she looked a little scared now..
Brad and Agatha’s cottage was a short walk from the cave. It perched by itself on the edge of the pine forest, looking out toward the lighthouse.
I ran up to the heavy wooden front door and pushed it open. I peered around the tiny front parlor. The old house creaked and groaned as I walked over the sagging floorboards. The ceiling hung so low, I could touch it when I stood on tiptoe.
Terri came up beside me. “Are they here?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered, looking around.
We stepped past the old sofa and wide stone fireplace and into the cramped kitchen. Off the kitchen stood an old storeroom where I was to sleep. Upstairs was Brad and Agatha’s room with a “crawl-through” passage into the space above the storeroom, which would be Terri’s room. A tiny back staircase led from Terri’s room down to the yard.
Terri turned to the window. “There they are!” she said. “In the garden!”
I could see Brad bent over a tomato stalk. Agatha was hanging some clothes to dry on the clothesline.
We raced out the kitchen door. “Where have you two been?” Agatha demanded. She and Brad both had white, white hair, and their eyes seemed faded and tired. They were so frail and light. Between them I don’t think they weighed more than a hundred pounds.
“We explored the beach,” I told them.
I knelt down beside Brad. He was missing the top part of two of his fingers on his left hand. He told us they got caught in a wolf trap when he was young.
“We found an old cave in some huge rocks. Have you ever seen it?” I asked.
He gave a little grunt and kept searching for ripe tomatoes.
“It’s right by the beach and the big rock jetty,” Terri added. “You can’t miss it.”
Agatha’s sheets fluttered on the line. “It’s nearly suppertime,” she said, ignoring our questions about the cave. “Why don’t you come inside and give me a hand, Terri?”
Terri glanced at me and shrugged.
I turned back to Brad. I was about to ask him about the cave again when he handed me the basket of ripe tomatoes. “Take these to Agatha, okay?”
“Sure,” I answered, following Terri inside. I set the basket on the small counter. The kitchen was small and narrow. Counter and sink on one side. Stove and refrigerator on the other. Agatha had already put Terri to work in the corner of the living room, setting the table.
“Now Terri, dear,” Agatha called from the kitchen, “if it’s asters you’re after, the best place to find those is in the big meadow down past the lighthouse. Of course they’re just coming out about now, so you can take your pick there. I believe that’s where you can find plenty of goldenrod, too.”
“Great!” Terri called back with her usual enthusiasm. I don’t know how she could get so pumped about flowers.
Agatha noticed the basket of tomatoes on the counter. “Oh, gracious! All those tomatoes!” She opened a rattley old drawer and pulled out a small knife. “Why don’t you cut these up for a big green salad?”
I must have made a face.
“Don’t you like salad?” Agatha asked.
“Not really,” I said. “I mean, I’m not a rabbit!”
Agatha laughed. “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “Why ruin a homegrown tomato with lettuce? We’ll have them plain, with maybe a little dressing.”
“Sounds good,” I grinned, picking up the knife.
I listened to Agatha and Terri discuss wildflowers for a few minutes to see if the subject of the cave would come up again. It didn’t. I wondered why my two old cousins didn’t want to talk about it.
After dinner Brad pulled out an old deck of playing cards and taught Terri and me how to play whist. It’s an old-fashioned card game that I’d never heard of before.
Brad got a kick out of teaching us the rules. He and I played against Terri and Agatha. Every time I got mixed up, which was most of the time, he’d wag his finger back and forth at me. I guess it saved him from having to say anything.
We went to bed after the card game. It was early, but I didn’t care. It had been a long day, and I was glad to get some rest. The bed was hard, but I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the scratchy feather pillow.
The next morning Terri and I made our way to the woods to collect plants and wildflowers.
“What is it we’re looking for again?” I asked Terri as I kicked aside piles of dead leaves.
“Indian pipe,” Terri replied. “It looks like small, pinkish-white bones popping out of the ground. It’s also called corpse plant because it lives on the remains of dead plants.”
“Yuck.” I suddenly remembered the popping hands in my cemetery dream.
Terri laughed. “You should like these plants,” she said. “They’re a scientific puzzle. They’re white because they don’t have any chlorophyll. You know. The stuff that makes plants turn green.”
“How interesting,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
Terri continued her lecture anyway. “Agatha said Indian pipe only grows in very dark places. They look more like a fungus than a plant.”
She dug around for a few minutes. “The weirdest thing about them,” she continued, “is if they dry out, they turn black. That’s why I want to try pressing a few.”
I poked around in the leaves some more. I have to admit she had me hooked. I love freaks of nature.
I peered up at the heavy leaf canopy above us. “We’re definitely as deep into the woods as we can be. Are you sure this is where Agatha said you can find them?”
Terri nodded. She pointed to a huge fallen oak tree. “That’s our landmark. Don’t lose it.”
I started toward the big tree. “Maybe I’ll take a closer look over there,” I said. “There might be Indian pipe on that dead tree.”
I knelt down by the snakelike tree roots and began carefully pushing dead leaves aside. No wildflowers. Just bugs and worms. It was really gross.
I glanced back at Terri. She didn’t seem to be having any luck, either.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something white sticking out of the ground. I scurried over to examine it.
A short plant stem stuck up from the soft ground. The stem was covered with rolled-up leaves. I tugged at the stem. It didn’t come up.
I pulled harder.
The stem rose up a little, bringing a clump of soft dirt with it.
It isn’t a stem, I realized. It’s some kind of root. A root with leaves.
Weird.
I pulled more of it up from the ground. It was very long, I discovered.
A hard tug. Then another.
Another hard tug of the strange root brought up a huge mound of dirt.
I glanced down into the large hole I had made—and uttered a sharp cry.
“Terri—come here!” I managed to choke out. “I found a sk
eleton!”
5
“Huh?” Terri raced to my side.
We both stood and stared down at it in silence.
The skeleton I had uncovered lay curled on its side, every bone neatly in place. The empty eye socket in its gray skull gaped up at us.
“Is it a h-human?” Terri stammered in a low whisper.
“Not unless the human has four legs, genius!” I replied.
Terri stared down at it, her mouth open in an O of surprise. “Well, then, what is it?”
“Some kind of large animal,” I told her. “Maybe a deer.”
I stooped to take a closer look. “No. Not a deer. It has toe bones, not hooves.”
I studied the skull, which was fairly large and had sharp incisors or teeth. When I was nine, I had a thing about skeletons. I must have read every book ever written about skeletons.
“My guess is a dog,” I announced.
“A dog?” said Terri. “Oh, poor little doggy.” She stared at the skeleton. “How do you think it died?”
“Maybe an animal attacked it.”
Terri knelt down beside me. “Why would anyone want to eat a dog?”
“They’re high in protein!” I joked.
She shoved me hard. “Jerry! I’m serious. What animal around here eats dogs?”
“A wolf maybe. Or a fox,” I replied thoughtfully.
“Wouldn’t a wolf or fox have crunched a few of the bones and left more of a mess?” Terri asked. “This skeleton is in perfect shape.”
“Maybe it died of old age,” I suggested. “Or maybe someone buried it here beneath that weird root plant.”
“Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t attacked by anything,” Terri said. I could see the color returning to her face.
We sat silently over the skeleton for a minute, thinking about the dog.
A shrill animal howl made us both jump to our feet. The frightening sound filled the forest, echoing through the trees.
We held our ears as the howling grew louder. “Wh-what is it? What’s making that horrible cry?” Terri shrieked. I stared back at her. I didn’t know. I only knew it was moving closer.
6
The howls stopped as suddenly as they started.
When I turned around to make sure we were safe, I saw them.
Sam, Nat, and Louisa were huddled behind a nearby tree. Laughing.
I glared at them. I realized instantly that they had been making the howls. Who did they think they were?
It took them a long time to stop laughing. I couldn’t believe how much they were enjoying their little joke.
I glanced at Terri. She was blushing. My face felt hot. I guess I was blushing, too.
When they finally stopped laughing, I invited them over to see the skeleton.
Now it was their turn to be startled.
Sam’s eyes grew wide. Louisa let out a short cry. Nat, the little one, grabbed on to his sister’s sleeve and started to whimper.
Terri dug into her jeans pockets for a tissue. “Don’t worry,” she told Nat. She dabbed at his cheeks with her tissue. “It’s not a person skeleton. It’s only a dog skeleton.”
Those words made Nat burst into tears.
Louisa put her arms around Nat’s trembling shoulders. “Shush,” she said. “It’s all right.”
But Nat couldn’t calm himself down. “I know what happened to this dog,” he sobbed. “A ghost killed it. Dogs can tell if someone’s a ghost. Dogs always bark to warn about ghosts.”
“Nat,” Terri said softly, “there’s no such thing as ghosts. They’re pretend.”
Sam stepped forward, shaking his head. “You’re wrong,” he told Terri, narrowing his eyes at her. “There are lots of skeletons in these woods. All because of the ghost. He picks the bones clean and leaves them lying here.”
“Give me a break, Sam,” Terri muttered. “Are you trying to tell us that there’s a ghost around here?”
Sam stared back, but didn’t reply.
“Well, are you?” Terri demanded.
Suddenly Sam’s expression changed. His eyes grew wide with terror. “There it is!” he cried, pointing. “Right behind you!”
7
I let out a shriek and grabbed Terri’s arm.
But I knew immediately that I’d been fooled again. When was I going to stop falling for Sam’s dumb jokes?
“You two are too easy to scare,” Sam said, grinning.
Terri put her hands on her hips and glared at Sam. “How about a truce, guys? These jokes are getting pretty lame.”
All eyes were on Sam.
“Yeah. Okay. A truce,” he murmured. But he had a grin on his face. I couldn’t tell if he meant it or not.
“Sam, tell Jerry and me more about the ghost,” Terri demanded. “Were you serious about a ghost killing the dog, or was that one of your fabulous jokes?”
Sam kicked at a clump of dirt. “Maybe some other time,” he muttered.
“Some other time? Why not now?” I asked.
Louisa started to say something—but Sam tugged her away. “Let’s go,” he said sharply. “Now.”
Terri’s expression changed to confusion. “But I thought—”
Sam stalked off through the trees, dragging Louisa with him. Nat hurried to catch up to them.
“Bye,” Louisa called. “See you later.”
“Did you see that?” Terri cried. “They really do believe there’s a ghost in these woods. They didn’t want to talk about it, so they left.”
I stared down at the animal skeleton, lying so clean and perfect on the ground.
Picked clean.
Picked clean by a ghost.
The words rolled through my mind.
I stared hard at the jagged teeth in the pale skull. Then I turned away.
“Let’s go back to the cottage,” I murmured.
We found Brad and Agatha sitting in rocking chairs under a shady tree. Agatha was slicing peaches into a large wooden bowl, and Brad watched her.
“Do you two like peach pie?” Agatha asked.
Terri and I replied that it was one of our favorites.
Agatha smiled. “We’ll have it tonight. I don’t know if your dad mentioned it, but peach pie is one of my specialties. So did you find the Indian pipe?”
“Not exactly,” I replied. “We found a dog skeleton instead.”
Agatha began slicing more quickly, the knife blade slipping over her thumb as the soft peach slices slid into the bowl. “Oh, my,” she muttered.
“What kind of an animal would go after a dog?” asked Terri. “Are there wolves or coyotes around here?”
“Never seen any,” Brad answered quickly.
“Then how do you explain that skeleton?” I demanded. “It was perfectly arranged, and the bones were picked clean.”
Agatha and Brad exchanged a worried glance. “Can’t say as I know,” said Agatha. Slice. Slice. Slice. “Brad? Do you have any ideas?”
Brad rocked back and forth for a minute. “Nope.”
Very helpful, Brad, I thought.
“We also met three kids,” I said. I told them about Sam, Nat, and Louisa. “They said they know you.”
“Yep,” Brad replied. “Neighbors.”
“They told us a ghost must have killed the dog.”
Agatha set down her paring knife and leaned her head back against the chair, laughing softly to herself. “Is that what they said? Oh, my. Those kids were teasing you. They love to make up ghost stories. Especially that oldest boy, Sam.”
“That’s what I thought,” Terri said, glancing at me.
Agatha nodded. “They’re nice kids. You should invite them to do something with you some time. Maybe you can all go blueberry picking.”
Brad cleared his throat. His pale eyes studied me. “You’re too smart to fall for ghost stories, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I guess,” I replied uncertainly.
We spent the rest of the afternoon helping Brad weed the garden. Weeding isn’t exactly my idea of a thrill. But after
Brad showed us which were the good plants and which weren’t, Terri and I had fun spearing the bad guys with the special weeding tools he lent us.
We ate the peach pie for dessert that night, and it was delicious. Agatha and Brad wanted to hear all about our school and our friends.
After dinner, Brad challenged us to another game of whist. This time I did much better. Brad only had to wiggle his finger at me a couple of times.
Later, I had a tough time falling asleep. The window of my little room off the kitchen had long, flimsy, white cotton curtains that allowed the light of the full moon to shine onto my face. It felt like staring into a flashlight.
I tried covering my face with the pillow, but I couldn’t breathe. Then I tried resting my arm over my eyes, but my arm quickly fell asleep.
I pulled the sheet up over my head. Better.
I closed my eyes. The crickets were making a real racket.
Then I heard something thump against the wall outside. Probably a tree branch, I told myself.
Another thump. I slid a little further down in my bed.
The third time I heard the sound, I took a deep breath, sat up, and tossed off the sheet.
I took a careful look around the room. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
I lay back down.
Near the doorway, the floorboards creaked.
I turned to the window.
Behind the curtains, something moved.
Something pale. Ghostly.
The floorboards creaked again as the pale figure moved toward me.
8
I opened my mouth in a low, terrified scream. Then I pulled the sheet back over my head.
The room grew silent. I was trembling all over.
Where was the ghost?
I peeked out from the sheet.
Terri stepped out from behind the curtain. “Gotcha,” she whispered.
“You creep,” I choked out. “How could you do that to me?”
“Easy,” she replied, grinning. “All this ghost talk has you freaked out—hasn’t it.”
[Goosebumps 22] - Ghost Beach Page 2