روح همسایه فصل 04

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 4

“Hey—!” Hannah called out and ran the rest of the way. “What’s going on?”

A narrow alley stretched behind the post office. It was a hidden place where kids liked to hang out.

Hannah saw Mr. Chesney, the postmaster. He was shaking a fist angrily at a wiry brown mutt.

There were three boys in the alley. Hannah recognized Danny. He was hanging behind the two boys she didn’t recognize.

The dog had its head lowered and was whimpering softly. A tall boy, thin and lanky with scraggly blond hair, grabbed the dog gently and bent down to comfort it.

“Don’t throw stones at my dog!” the boy shouted at Mr. Chesney.

The other boy stepped forward. He was a short, stubby kid, kind of tough-looking, with spiky black hair. He glared at Mr. Chesney, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Danny lingered away from the others, very pale, his eyes narrowed tensely.

“Get away! Go! I warned you!” Mr. Chesney snarled. He was a thin, red-faced man, entirely bald, with a bushy brown mustache under his pointed nose. He wore a tight-fitting gray wool suit, despite the summer heat.

“You don’t have the right to hurt my dog!” the blond boy insisted, still cradling the mutt. The dog’s stubby tail was wagging furiously now. The dog licked the boy’s hand.

“This is government property,” the postmaster replied sharply. “I’m warning you—get away from here. This isn’t a hangout for you troublemakers.” He took a menacing step toward the three boys.

Hannah saw Danny take a few steps back, his expression frightened. The other two boys stood their ground, staring at the red-faced postmaster defiantly. They were big, Hannah saw. Bigger than Danny. They appeared to be older than Danny.

“I’m telling my dad you hurt Rusty,” the blond boy said.

“Tell your dad you were trespassing,” Mr. Chesney shot back. “And tell him you were rude and disrespectful. And tell him I’ll file a complaint against all three of you punks if I catch you back here again.” “We’re not punks!” the heavier boy shouted angrily.

Then all three boys turned and started running down the alley. The dog zigzagged excitedly at their heels, its stubby tail twitching wildly.

Mr. Chesney stormed past Hannah, muttering curses to himself. He was so angry, he pushed right past her as he made his way to the front of the post office.

What a jerk, Hannah thought, shaking her head. What is his problem, anyway?

All of the kids in Greenwood Falls hated Mr. Chesney. Mainly because he hated kids. He was always shouting at them to stop loitering in the square, or stop playing such loud music, or stop talking so loudly, or stop laughing so much, or to get out of his precious alley.

He acts as if he owns the whole town, Hannah thought.

At Halloween, Hannah and a bunch of friends had decided to go to Mr. Chesney’s house and spray-paint his windows. But to their disappointment, Chesney was prepared for any Halloween trick-players. He stood at the ready in his front window, an enormous shotgun in his hand.

Hannah and her friends had gone on their way, disappointed and scared.

He knows how much we all hate him, Hannah realized.

And he doesn’t care.

The alley was quiet now. Hannah headed back toward the town square, thinking about Danny. He had looked so frightened, so pale. So pale, he nearly seemed to fade away in the bright sunlight.

Danny’s two friends didn’t seem frightened at all, Hannah thought. They seemed angry and tough. Or maybe they were just acting tough because Mr. Chesney was being so horrible to the blond boy’s dog.

Crossing the square, Hannah searched for signs of life. In his brightly lit shop, Ernie was still sitting in the barber chair, his face buried in a magazine. A blue station wagon had pulled into the gas station. A woman Hannah didn’t recognize was hurrying to get to the bank before it closed.

No sign of Danny and his two friends.

I guess I’ll go home and catch General Hospital, Hannah thought with a sigh. She crossed the street and made her way slowly toward home.

Tall trees, maples and birches and sassafras, lined the sidewalk. The leaves were so thick, they nearly blocked the sunlight.

It was cooler under their shade, Hannah realized as she walked under them.

She was halfway down the block when the dark figure slid out from behind a tree.

At first Hannah thought it was just the shadow cast by the wide trunk. But then, as her eyes adjusted to the shade, the figure became clear.

Hannah gasped and stopped walking.

She stared hard, squinting at him, struggling to bring him into focus.

He stood in a deep blue puddle of shadow. Dressed in black, he was tall and slender, his face completely hidden in darkness.

Hannah felt a cold shiver of fear roll down her body.

Who is he? she wondered. Why is he dressed like that?

Why is he standing so still, keeping in the shadows, staring back at me from the dark shade?

Is he trying to scare me?

He slowly raised a hand, motioning for her to come nearer.

Her heart fluttering in her chest, Hannah took a step back.

Is there really someone there?

A figure dressed in black?

Or am I seeing shadows cast by the trees?

She wasn’t sure—until she heard the whisper:

“Hannah… Hannah…”

The whisper was as dry as the brush of tree leaves, and nearly as soft.

“Hannah… Hannah…”

A slender black shadow, motioning to her with arms as bony as twigs, whispering to her. Such a dry, inhuman whisper.

“No!” Hannah cried.

She spun around and struggled to run. Her legs felt weak. Her knees didn’t want to bend.

But she forced herself to run. Faster.

Faster.

Was he following her?