The Old Willis Place

by Mary Downing Hahn

  I thrust Georgie behind me. She mustn't get him, she mustn't hurt him. I'd protect him this time. "What do you want?" I cried. "Haven't you done enough to us already?"

  She lunged at me, seized my arm, and pulled me close. Her cold fingers pressed my skin, chilling me to the bone. "You've given me no rest, no peace. Not while I was alive. Not after my death. And now, now—"

  "Leave my sister alone." Still holding Alfie, Georgie tried to pull me away from Miss Lilian. "You hurt us, you made the bad thing happen!"

  "You!" She turned to Georgie, her face filled with fury. "You were always the bad one. Making faces at me behind your mother's back, teasing and tormenting me, stealing my things. Why, you have my bear right now. Give him to me!"

  Georgie drew back, clutching Alfie. "This is my bear, not yours! Lissa gave him to me."

  "Let us go," I begged her. "We can't harm you now."

  "Oh, no." Miss Lilian held us both, her grip too strong to break. "I can't let you go. Not yet. We have old accounts to settle, the three of us."

  Georgie and I clung to each other in dread. What accounts? Tweaking Miss Lilian's skirts, knocking pictures off the walls, breaking knickknacks, slamming doors, hiding her jewelry, taking her money—small things compared to what she'd done to us.

  "Just look at you," she said suddenly. "Hiding on my farm like fugitives, one of you dressed in my clothes and the other wearing almost nothing but feathers in his hair. Filthy. Rude. Stealing and lying. You're a disgrace to your parents. To my parents. To society itself."

  "Its your fault we're here!" Georgie cried.

  Miss Lilian stepped back as if he'd struck her. "My fault? How dare you say such a thing? Nothing is my fault. Nothing!"

  "Liar" Georgie retorted. "You know what you did."

  "What happened was your own fault," Miss Lilian went on. "You deserved to be punished. Someone had to teach you a lesson. Your parents never raised a hand to you. They let you run wild. So the duty fell to me."

  Too angry now to be afraid, I thrust my face into hers, daring her to harm me. "You chased us into the cellar and locked us in that room, and then you left us there—"

  "To teach you a lesson," she repeated. "That's all I meant to do."

  "A lesson?" I stared at her in disbelief. "You killed us!"

  She released us then and began fidgeting with the string of pearls around her neck. "No," she whispered. "It was an accident. An unfortunate accident. Surely you realize I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to!"

  Georgie brushed me aside and walked right up to Miss Lilian, storming with anger. "You're a murderer!" he shouted. "You should have gone to jail. They should have executed you!"

  "I had a stroke," Miss Lilian shouted back. "A stroke! You upset me, my blood pressure shot up, I collapsed at the top of the cellar steps. Your mother found me on the kitchen floor, unconscious. Your father called an ambulance. They put a tube down my throat, they put something over my mouth. How could I tell anyone where you were? I was more dead than alive."

  Miss Lilian smoothed her dress, touched her hair, wrung her hands nervously. "I was in the hospital a long time. Weeks, months, I can't be sure. I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. It's a wonder I didn't die." She toyed with the pearls, sliding them between her fingers one by one as if she were counting them.

  She peered at Georgie and me, her eyes sharp. "When I finally recovered, what happened in the cellar seemed like a dream, a nightmare—not something I'd really done."

  I stood in the snow, almost mesmerized by the soft click, click of the pearls, and tried to understand what I'd just heard. Miss Lilian hadn't meant to kill us. It was an accident. She'd had a stroke and gone to the hospital. While she was there, unable to speak, we'd died, Georgie and me.

  "Why didn't you tell someone when you could talk?" I asked her.

  Miss Lilian's hands strayed from her pearls to her hair and then to her dress, smoothing, twitching, tweaking, never still. "What good would it have done? You were dead by then."

  "Our parents—" I began, but Miss Lilian interrupted, her voice shrill.

  "I would have been arrested. Me—Lilian Eleanora Willis, the daughter of Judge John Willis, the granddaughter of an attorney, the descendant of one of the oldest families in Maryland. Can you imagine the disgrace?"

  She touched her hair again, smoothed her dress, opened and shut her mouth, grimacing with the effort of finding the right words. "I lived to be almost one hundred years old," she went on slowly, close to tears now. "Every year was more miserable than the one before. All I wanted was to die and be done with it. But ten years after my death, I'm still here on this farm, as unhappy as ever. No rest, no peace. I've been punished long enough. I want to move on. Its time. Past time."

  The old woman took a deep breath and looked toward the empty road beyond the gate, her face filled with longing. The moonlight fell on her gaunt face, darkening her eyes.

  "Now you know the truth," she said. "Don't stand there like ninnies. Speak up. Say what must be said. Or, or—" Her voice dwindled and she began to fidget with her pearls again.

  Words crowded into my head. I knew what must be said, I knew what must be done. But it wasn't easy.

  While Georgie stood there, hugging his bear, I forced myself to take Miss Lilian's hand and look into her eyes. Her hand twitched as if she intended to draw it away, so I held it tighter, pressing the bones in her fingers.

  "We've been angry with you for a long time," I told her. "Afraid of you, too. But now I think we must forgive you. And you must forgive us."

  Georgie snorted in surprise. "Why does she need to forgive us? What did we ever do to her that she didn't deserve? Everything's been her fault. Even before the bad thing, she was mean."

  Without releasing Miss Lilian, I grabbed one of Georgie's hands. "Stop blaming her. She's old. Let it go. All of it. Everything."

  Clutching Alfie with his free hand, he tried to pull away, his face sulky. I squeezed his hand. "If we don't forgive each other," I said, "we'll all be here forever. It's the last rule, Georgie. Can't you feel it?"

  Georgie didn't look at me or Miss Lilian, but his hand went limp in mine. I watched the anger leave his face. Cautiously I placed his hand in Miss Lilian's. He didn't yank it away. Like Miss Lilian, he stood quietly.

  "I'm sorry I locked you in the storeroom," Miss Lilian said to Georgie and me. It cost her a lot of effort to add, "And before—I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. Even though you—"

  "I'm sorry I teased you and took your things," I said quickly, before she ruined her apology.

  For a moment Georgie didn't speak. I squeezed his hand again, worried he was about to doom us to an eternity at Oak Hill Manor.

  "I'm sorry, too," he finally managed. But he didn't look at Miss Lilian. He held Alfie tightly, as if he expected the old woman to snatch the bear away.

  The farm was still. No owl hooted, no fox barked, no wind stirred the trees. Beyond the fence, the highway was deserted. Something was about to happen. We could sense it in the silence.

  Slowly the moonlight brightened. It cast ink-black shadows across the brilliant snow. Half blinded, we drew closer together, unsure, a little afraid.

  "Diana," Georgie whispered. "Look."

  He pointed at the road. Two people walked slowly toward us, their faces indistinct, their forms shadowy despite the blinding light. Georgie pressed himself against me, and Miss Lilian held my hand tighter.

  "Who are they?" Georgie asked. "What do they want?"

  "It's Mother," I whispered, "and Daddy. They've come for us at last."

  Georgie and I broke away from Miss Lilian and shoved the gate open. We ran out into the road, free at last from the farm and its rules.

  Mother and Daddy hurried toward us, calling our names, eager to hold us once more. Georgie sprinted ahead. As he flung himself at Mother, I heard Miss Lilian cry, "Don't leave me! Take me with you!"

  I came to a sudden stop halfway between the gate and my parents and looked back. The ol
d woman stood at the edge of the light, her arms stretched out to Mother and Daddy. "Please," she cried, "please, forgive me."

  Mother turned to Daddy, her eyes full of questions. When he hesitated, I ran to him. "Don't leave her here," I begged. "She didn't mean to, it was an accident. She's sorry."

  Mother looked at Daddy again. This time he nodded. Mother held out her hand. "Come with us, Miss Lilian."

  I walked to the old woman. As I reached for her hand, I noticed Alfie sitting on the fence. I glanced at Georgie but said nothing. It was clear he no longer needed the bear.

  Miss Lilian hobbled through the gate toward me. She looked back once, as though bidding Oak Hill Manor farewell forever.

  Together, the five of us walked into the brilliance. It was as if we were entering the moon itself.

  THE DIARY OF LISSA MORRISON

  Dear Dee Dee,

  I will never see Diana or Georgie or Miss Willis again. They are gone forever.

  But before I tell you how I know that, I guess I should start with what Dad told me after Diana left.

  Dad fixed hot cocoa for me and coffee for himseff. Then he put the plate of peanut butter cookies on the table and sat down across from me. "The police told me the names of the children in the cellar" he said. "Diana and Georgie Eldridge. Odd coincidence, those first names, don't you think?"

  It made me shiver all over because I had the same thought Td had before about Diana and Georgie. Only now I knew it was true. Diana and Georgie were the children in the cellar. The bodies in the storeroom were their bodies. Suddenly, everything about Diana made sense, and I could hardly believe I hadn'tfigured it out earlier.

  Which means ghosts are not at all what I imagined them to be. Not transparent, not spooky, not phantoms of the night, but real and solid, with shadows and everything—only they never get cold and they can't eat or drink or hurt themselves. You could sit next to a ghost at a bus stop and never know it. You could befriends with one and not even suspect. That's what I think, at least.

  After Dad told me the children's names, I started crying. He tried to comfort me."You're too sensitive to deal with all that's happened here," he said. "Maybe we should move, maybe I should find a different job. Go back to teaching, maybe. Would you like that? You could live in a neighborhood with other kids and have a more normal life"

  I stared at him, amazed. "Doyou really mean that?"I asked.

  He said yes, he meant it. He'd been thinking about it for several days, and it seemed to him I needed more friends. He doesn't want me to spend so much time alone. It's not good for me, he says. Especially now, in light of all that's happened.

  So he's going to start looking for a job and another place to live. I told him about the house for sale across the highway. He said he'd look into it, but it's probably too expensive.

  In the meantime, I can start school in Adelphia.

  Which makes me very happy, even though the farm doesn't seem so scary now that Miss Willis is gone.

  BUT, DEE DEE, THAT'S NOT THE END OF MY STORY.

  That night, Miss Willis began calling Diana and Georgie again. Even though I was afraid, I looked out the window. In the moonlight, I saw Diana and Georgie running across the field toward the driveway. Miss Willis was close behind.

  I pulled on my boots and parka and sneaked outside. Stumbling through the snow, I ran after them. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wished I'd brought MacDuff.

  Miss Willis caught Diana and Georgie by the gate. I didn't dare go too close, so I couldn't hear anyone but Miss Willis, who ranted and raved loudly enough to wake Dad. She blamed everything on Diana and Georgie. It was their fault they died in the cellar. Not hers. How could she believe such a crazy thing? She locked them in; she left them there.

  She had excuses for everything, but what she did was wrong—she should have told Diana and Georgie's parents. She made them suffer even more because they never knew what happened to their children.

  Then an amazing thing happened, Dee Dee. Diana reached out and took Miss Willis's hand. She made Georgie take the other. He didn't want to. For once I was on his side. I would never have forgiven that horrible old woman. They all spoke in low voices. Oh, I wish I'd been brave enough to creep closer so I could have heard what they were saying.

  Suddenly, the moon began to shine brighter and brighter. It almost blinded me. I've never seen a moon like that. It was absolutely supernatural. And terrifying. But, beautiful, too. I crouched in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen next.

  The next thing I knew, Diana and Georgie ran out the gate and into the road. I heard Georgie call his mother and father. Miss Willis stood by herself, watching them go. Then she stretched out her arms and cried,"Don't leave me!"

  Diana turned and looked back at Miss Willis. The moon shone right through her. She held her hand out to the old woman—the very person who had killed her and her brother.

  I ran toward Diana. I had to say goodbye, I had to tell her I'd never forget her, but before I reached the gate, she was gone. And so was Miss Willis.

  The moon dimmed and shone with an ordinary light, and I could see the highway stretching away, empty. Behind me, leading up to the gate, were three sets of footprints, four counting mine. On the other side, the police car and hearse had left their tracks, but not one footprint marked the snow on the road.

  And then I saw something on the gate—my bear, just sitting there as if he was waiting for me. Georgie must have left him for me. I picked up Tedward and rubbed my face against his soft fur. He smelled like Georgie, not quite clean but not really dirty.

  I don't know how long I stayed at the gate, shivering in the wind, staring at the empty road and the moon high up in the sky as bright as a new dime. Did I think they'd return if I waited long enough?

  No, they were gone for good. And they'd let Miss Willis go with them. Even after the terrible thing she'd done.

  Finally, I got so cold I thought I'd freeze to death standing there by the gate. Feeling sad and lonely, I turned my back to the highway and started home. The wind made a racket in the treetops, but I didn't hear Miss Willis or her piano. No one watched me from the woods. The night was as ordinary as a winter night can be, and I was alone.

  Well, not quite alone. Halfway home, who did I see but Nero, making his way toward me, lifting each paw daintily and giving it a little shake. He meowed as if to say he'd been waiting for me a long time and he was cold and hungry.

  I picked him up. His purr rumbled against my chest and I buried my face in his soft, sweet fur.

  "Well,"I said, "I guess you're my cat now. So you might as well come home with me."

  When I tell Dad Diana is gone (not where or how, just that she moved like an ordinary girl), I know he'll let me keep Nero. I just hope MacDuff won't mind. Surely he's used to the cat by now.

  Oh, Dee Dee, I wish Yd had a chance to say goodbye to Diana. Every time I see the full moon, 1T1 think of her and wonder where she is. Happy, I hope. With her family in some beautiful place beyond the moon.

  Maybe my mother is there, too. I wonder if sheTl come for me some moonlit night a long, long time from now.

  Love, Lissa