[Goosebumps 22] - Ghost Beach

by R. L. Stine

  “Do you believe this weather?” Terri asked, coming into my room.

  I spun away from the window. “Terri—listen. I have something to tell you.” I told her about my late-night talk with the three Sadlers.

  When I finished, Terri stared out the window. “So what do we do now? How can we meet them on the beach if it’s raining this hard?”

  “We can’t,” I said. “We have to wait till it stops.”

  “I hate suspense!” Terri moaned. She hurried back to her room to get dressed.

  I pulled on my old faded jeans, torn at both knees, and a gray sweatshirt, and hurried to join everyone for breakfast. Agatha cooked us oatmeal with big lumps of brown sugar and butter on top.

  After breakfast Brad built a big cozy fire and Terri worked on her wildflower collection on the floor in front of the fireplace.

  While Terri glued dried flower samples onto sheets of cardboard, I sat around and waited for the rain to stop. Stupid rain.

  The sun didn’t come out until after lunch. As soon as we could get away, Terri and I hurried to the beach.

  We waited there for nearly an hour. I practiced skipping stones, and Terri scrounged around for shells. No sign of Sam, Nat, and Louisa.

  “Now what?” I asked, kicking at a small rock. The whole day had been a big waste.

  “I brought my gravestone-rubbing stuff,” Terri replied. “Let’s go over to the cemetery.”

  We made our way to the small graveyard, climbed over the old stone wall, and took a good look around. The graves were so old. Many of the gravestones had been knocked over, or broken, or covered with weeds.

  The forest had started taking over. A couple of big trees had sprouted on top of graves, and one giant tree had crashed across the wall, knocking over several tombstones.

  “I’m going to look for something interesting by that big fallen tree,” Terri announced.

  Terri ran ahead, and I poked along at my own speed. The last time we were here, we stuck to the edge of the cemetery. Now I made my way into the middle.

  I started reading the names on the tombstones. The first one I stopped at read: Here lies the body of Martin Sadler.

  That’s strange, I thought. Another Sadler. I remembered that Sam had told us Sadler was a common name around here. Maybe this was the Sadler family section or something.

  The gravestone next to Martin Sadler belonged to Mary Sadler, his wife. Then a couple of Sadler kids, Sarah and Miles.

  I moved to the next row and continued reading the inscriptions. Another Sadler. This one was named Peter. Beside Peter lay Miriam Sadler.

  Whoa! I thought, starting to get the creeps. Didn’t anyone else ever die around here?

  I moved to another section. All Sadlers, too. Hiram, Margaret, Constance, Charity…

  Was this a whole cemetery of Sadlers?

  Terri’s scream cut through the air. “Jerry! Come here!”

  I found her near the fallen pine tree. Her face was twisted in confusion. “Look!” she instructed, pointing to a cluster of gravestones at her feet.

  I lowered my glance to two large stones. Thomas Sadler, died February 18, 1641, and Priscilla Sadler, wife of Thomas. Died March 5, 1641.

  “Yeah, I know,” I told Terri. “The whole cemetery is filled with Sadlers. Creepy, huh?”

  “No. No. Check out the kids’ graves,” Terri said impatiently.

  I saw three small, identical stones lined up beside the parents. The three stones stood up straight. They were clean and easy to read. As if someone had taken care of them.

  I hunched down to read the names. “Sam Sadler, son of Thomas and Priscilla.”

  I straightened back up. “So?”

  “Read the next one,” Terri instructed.

  I lowered myself again. “Louisa Sadler.”

  “Uh-oh,” I murmured. “I bet I can guess the last name.”

  “I bet you can, too,” Terri replied in a trembling whisper.

  My eyes moved to the last marker. “Here lies Nat Sadler, who died in his fifth year of life.”

  18

  I stared at the three stones until they blurred before my eyes.

  Three stones. Three kids.

  Sam, Louisa, and Nat.

  All dead in the early 1600s.

  “I don’t get it,” I murmured. I felt dizzy as I climbed to my feet. “I just don’t get it.”

  “We have to ask Brad and Agatha about this,” Terri said. “This is just too weird!”

  We ran back to the cottage. I kept seeing those three stones as we ran.

  Sam, Louisa, and Nat.

  We found Brad and Agatha out back, under the trees in their matching rocking chairs.

  Agatha laughed as we came running up to them breathlessly. “You kids run everywhere, don’t you? Wish I had your pep.”

  “We were in the cemetery,” I blurted out. “We have to ask you about something.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Were you working on gravestone rubbings?”

  “We didn’t get that far,” Terri told her. “We were reading the stones. They were all Sadlers. All of them.”

  Agatha’s chair rocked back and forth steadily. She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “You know those kids we met on the beach?” I broke in. “Well, we found tombstones for Sam, Louisa, and Nat Sadler. They died in 1640-something. But those are the same names as the kids we met!”

  Agatha and Brad rocked in unison. Back and forth. Back and forth. Agatha smiled up at me. “Well, what’s your question, Jerry?”

  “How come there are so many Sadlers in that graveyard?” I asked. “And how come those stones have our friends’ names on them?”

  “Good questions,” Brad muttered quietly.

  Agatha smiled. “It’s nice to see you’re both so observant. Sit down. It’s sort of a long story.”

  Terri and I dropped down onto the grass. “Tell us,” I urged impatiently.

  Agatha took a deep breath and began. “Well, in the winter of 1641, a large group of Sadlers, practically the whole family, sailed from England and settled here. They were Pilgrims who came to start a new life.”

  She glanced at Brad, who continued to rock, staring out at the shimmering trees. “It was one of the worst winters in history,” Agatha continued. “And, sadly, tragically, the Sadlers were unprepared for the cold. They died, one by one, and were buried in the little cemetery. By 1642, there were almost none left.”

  Brad tsk-tsked and shook his head.

  Agatha, rocking in a steady rhythm, continued. “Your friends Sam, Nat, and Louisa are your distant cousins. Like Brad and me. They were named for their ancestors, the children buried in the cemetery. We were named for our ancestors, too. You’ll find gravestones for an Agatha and Bradford Sadler in the cemetery, too.”

  “We will?” Terri cried.

  Agatha nodded solemnly. “That’s right. But your cousin and I aren’t quite ready for the bone-yard, yet. Are we, Brad?”

  Brad shook his head. “No, ma’am!” he replied, grinning.

  Terri and I laughed.

  Relieved laughter.

  I was so glad there was a good explanation for what we had seen. I suddenly felt tempted to tell Brad and Agatha about the ghost in the cave.

  But Terri started talking about wildflowers, and I settled onto the grass and kept my thoughts to myself.

  * * *

  We finally ran into Sam, Louisa, and Nat on the beach the next morning.

  “Where were you guys?” I asked. “We waited for you here all afternoon.”

  “Hey, give us a break,” Sam protested. “It was raining. We weren’t allowed outside.”

  “We were at the little graveyard yesterday,” Terri told them. “We saw three old gravestones with your names on them.”

  Louisa and Sam exchanged glances. “Those are our ancestors,” Sam said. “We were named after them.”

  “Jerry said you have a plan to get rid of the ghost,” Terri broke in. My sister always likes to get do
wn to business.

  “We do,” Sam said, his expression turning serious. “Come with us.” He began walking quickly over the pebbly sand toward the cave.

  I hurried to catch up. “Whoa! Where are we going? I’m not climbing back inside that cave again. No way!” I cried.

  “Me either,” Terri agreed. “Being chased once by a ghost was enough for me.”

  Sam’s hazel eyes locked on mine. “You don’t have to go into the cave again. I promise.”

  He led us to the rocks below the cave. I gazed up, shielding my eyes against the bright sunlight.

  The cave looked a little less frightening in the daytime. The smooth, white stone gleamed. The dark entrance didn’t seem as deep and forbidding.

  Sam pointed up at the mouth. “See all those big rocks piled on top of the cave?”

  I squinted. “What about them?”

  “All you have to do is climb up there and push those rocks down. The rocks will cover the mouth of the cave, and the old ghost will be trapped inside forever.”

  Terri and I stared at the enormous, white rocks. Each one must have weighed about two hundred pounds. “You’re kidding, right?” I said.

  Louisa shook her head. “We’re very serious,” she murmured.

  “We cover the cave mouth with rocks?” I repeated, staring up at it. The dark hole seemed to stare back at me like a giant, black eye. “And that will keep the ghost inside? What will stop him from floating out? He’s a ghost, remember. He can float right through the rocks.”

  “No, he can’t,” Louisa explained. “The old legends say that the cave is a sanctuary. That means that if something evil gets trapped inside, it can’t escape through the ancient rocks. The ghost will be trapped inside forever.”

  Terri frowned. “So why didn’t you ever go up and push the rocks down?”

  “We’re too scared,” Nat blurted out.

  “If we mess up, the ghost could come after us,” Sam said. “We live here. He could find our house—and get revenge.”

  “We’ve been waiting for outsiders to come help us,” Louisa added, gazing at me with pleading eyes. “We’ve been waiting for someone we could trust.”

  “But what about us?” I demanded. “If we try to trap the ghost tonight and we mess up, won’t he come out looking for us?”

  “We won’t mess up,” Sam replied solemnly. “We’ll all work together. If the ghost comes out, Nat, Louisa, and I will distract him. We won’t let him see that you’re up on top.”

  “Will you help us? Please?” Louisa begged. “Our whole lives, the old ghost has terrified us.”

  “You would make everyone around here happy if you agreed to help trap him,” Sam added.

  I hesitated. So many things could go wrong.

  What if the rocks wouldn’t budge? What if the ghost floated out and found Terri and me up there? What if one of us slipped and fell off the top of the cave?

  No, I decided. No way. We can’t do it. It’s just too risky.

  I turned to tell them my decision.

  “Of course we’ll help you,” I heard Terri say.

  19

  We spent the afternoon picking blueberries with Agatha. Then we made blueberry ice cream using an old-fashioned churn. It tasted better than any ice cream I’d ever eaten. Agatha said it was because we picked the blueberries ourselves.

  As it got closer to suppertime, I started feeling more and more frightened. Were we really going to try to trap a ghost tonight?

  Dinnertime finally came. I hardly ate a thing. When Agatha stared at me, I explained I had filled up on ice cream.

  After dinner, Terri and I helped Agatha with the dishes. Then Brad insisted on showing me how to tie sailor knots. By this time, my stomach felt more knotted up than Brad’s rope!

  Finally, Terri and I said we were going to the beach to get some fresh air. And we hurried out to meet our three friends.

  It was a clear, cloudless night. Thousands of stars twinkled overhead. A heavy dew was falling. The full moon made it easy to see without a flashlight.

  Terri and I padded in silence along the path down to the beach. Neither of us felt like talking. I kept thinking about Mom and Dad’s warning to me before we left home to keep Terri from getting into trouble.

  Well, we’re in trouble now, I thought grimly. Deep trouble. Both of us.

  Maybe all five of us.

  Sam, Louisa, and Nat stood waiting at the edge of the shore. The moonlight made the dark water sparkle. I suddenly wished it weren’t so bright out. What we were about to do needed darkness.

  The knots in my stomach seemed to tighten as I greeted our three friends.

  Sam raised a finger to his lips and motioned for us to follow him. Silently, we picked our way across the rocks to the base of the cave.

  “Hey—look,” I whispered, staring up at the cave. The light flickered brightly in the entrance.

  The ghost was home.

  I stared up at the cave and planned our route. We’d go up the same way we had the other night. But instead of entering the cave, we’d keep climbing around the side until we reached the top.

  Terri fidgeted beside me. “Ready?” I whispered.

  She nodded grimly.

  “We’ll wait down here,” Sam whispered. “If the ghost comes out, we’ll be ready to distract him. Good luck.”

  The three of them stood huddled together. Their expressions were tense, frightened. Nat gripped Louisa’s hand. “Bye, Terri,” he said in a tiny voice. I think he had a little crush on her.

  “See you in a few minutes,” Terri whispered back to him. “Don’t worry, Nat. We’ll get rid of that bad ghost. Come on, Jerry.”

  My legs felt rubbery as Terri and I made our way over the rocks. We climbed steadily. Carefully.

  I glanced back at Terri, a few feet behind me. She was breathing hard, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

  We reached the mouth of the cave. The light inside shone brightly.

  I pointed to our right. Terri nodded. She followed me up the rocks on the side of the cave.

  The rocks were damp from the evening dew, and slippery. We were hunched on all fours as we climbed. It was steeper than I had thought.

  I struggled to keep from trembling. I knew that one slip could cause a rock slide. The ghost would know something was up.

  Hand over hand we climbed.

  Carefully. Steadily.

  I stopped to catch my breath and gazed down to the beach. Our three friends hadn’t moved.

  Holding on to a rock with one hand, I waved to them with my other. Nat waved back. The other two remained still, staring up at Terri and me.

  I reached the smooth rock surface of the top of the cave. Turning, I held out my hand and helped Terri up onto the narrow ledge.

  Together we checked out the situation. The rocks we were supposed to roll over the mouth of the cave weren’t as big as I’d thought. They were piled in a solid wall. It didn’t seem that difficult to get behind them and push them over.

  As I started to move behind the rock wall, I caught a glimpse of our three friends down below. To my surprise, Sam was waving his arms and jumping up and down. Louisa and Nat were also motioning frantically.

  “What’s wrong?” Terri cried. “Why are they doing that?”

  “They’re trying to tell us something,” I replied, feeling a chill of terror freeze every muscle.

  Had the ghost appeared in the cave mouth?

  Were Terri and I caught already?

  I took a deep breath and, ignoring my fear, leaned over the edge to peer down at the mouth of the cave.

  No one there.

  “Jerry—stand up!” Terri cried. “You’ll fall!”

  I stood back up and peered down at the three kids. “Hey—!” I cried out as I saw them running to the woods.

  A stab of terror made me gasp. “Something’s gone wrong,” I croaked. “Let’s get out of here!”

  I turned in time to see the ghost step up behind us.

  His entire
body shimmered, pale in the bright moonlight. His vacant, sunken eyes glared angrily at us.

  He grabbed me by the shoulder and wrapped his other bony hand around Terri’s waist.

  “Come with me,” he said in a dry whisper, a whisper of doom.

  20

  He dragged us down to the cave entrance.

  He’s so strong, I thought. So strong for someone old and frail-looking.

  The rocks slid under my feet, a gray blur. The ground appeared to tilt and sway. Long shadows seemed to reach out to me, to pull me down.

  I tried to cry out, but my breath caught in my throat.

  I tried to jerk free of his grasp. But he was too strong for me.

  Terri uttered loud, sobbing gasps. She thrashed her arms, struggling to free herself.

  But the old ghost held her tightly.

  Before I knew it, we were stumbling through the dark, twisting tunnels. The flickering candlelight grew brighter up ahead. We were too frightened to fight him, too frightened to break away.

  My shoulder scraped against the narrow tunnel wall. Terror tightened my throat. I couldn’t even cry out from the pain.

  The ghost released us as we reached the candlelit chamber. Glaring at us sternly, he motioned with a bony finger for us to follow him to his driftwood table.

  “Wh-what are you going to do to us?” Terri managed to choke out.

  He didn’t reply.

  He brushed the long, stringy white hair from over his face. Then he motioned for us to sit down on the floor.

  I dropped down quickly. My legs were shaking so hard, I was grateful not to have to stand.

  I glanced at my sister. Her lower lip was trembling. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

  The old ghost cleared his throat. He leaned heavily against the crude table. “You are both in serious trouble,” he said in a thin, reedy voice.

  “We—we didn’t mean to do any harm,” I blurted out.

  “It is dangerous to get involved with ghosts,” he said, ignoring my words.

  “We’ll go away,” I offered desperately. “We’ll never come back.”