روح همسایه فصل 21

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 21

“Where are you?” Hannah cried aloud. “Mom! Bill! Herb!”

Were they gone forever?

We’re all ghosts, she thought miserably. All.

And now they’ve left me here by myself.

Her heart pounding, she gazed around the kitchen.

It was bare. Empty.

No cereal boxes on the counter where they were usually kept. No funny magnets on the refrigerator. No curtains on the window. No clock on the wall. No kitchen table.

“Where are you?” Hannah called desperately.

She pushed away from the counter and went running through the house.

All empty. All bare.

No clothing. No furniture. No lamps or posters on the wall or books in the bookshelves.

Gone. Everything gone.

They’ve left me here. A ghost. A ghost all by myself.

“I’ve got to talk to someone,” she said aloud. “Anyone!”

She searched desperately for a telephone until she found a red one on the bare kitchen wall.

Who can I call? Who?

No one.

I’m dead.

I’ve been dead for five years.

She picked up the receiver and brought it to her ear.

Silence. The phone was dead, too.

With a hopeless cry, Hannah let the receiver fall to the floor. Her heart thudding, tears once again rolling down her cheeks, she flung herself down onto the bare floor.

Sobbing softly to herself, she buried her head in her arms and let the darkness sweep over her.

When she opened her eyes, the darkness remained.

She pulled herself up, not sure at first where she was. Feeling shaky and tense, she raised her eyes to the kitchen window. Outside, the sky was blue-black.

Night.

Time floats in and out when you’re a ghost, Hannah realized. That’s why the summer has seemed so short and so endless at the same time. She stretched her arms toward the ceiling, then wandered from the kitchen.

“Anyone home?” she called.

She wasn’t surprised by the silence that greeted her question.

Her family was gone.

But where?

As she made her way through the dark, empty hallway toward the front of the house, she had another premonition. Another feeling of dread.

Something bad was going to happen.

Now? Tonight?

She stopped at the open front door and peered through the screen door. “Hey—!” Danny was on his bike, pedaling slowly down his driveway.

Impulsively, Hannah pushed open the screen door and ran outside. “Hey—Danny!” He slowed his bike and turned to her.

“Danny—wait!” she called, running across her yard toward him.

“No—please!” His face filled with fright. He raised both hands as if to shield himself.

“Danny—?”

“Go away!” he screamed, his voice shrill from terror. “Please—stay away!” He gripped the handlebars and began pedaling furiously away.

Hannah jumped back, stunned and hurt. “Don’t be afraid of me!” she shouted after him, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard. “Danny, please—don’t be afraid!” Leaning over the handlebars, he rode away without looking back.

Hannah uttered a hurt cry.

As Danny disappeared down the block, the feeling of dread swept over her.

I know where he’s going, she thought.

He’s meeting Alan and Fred, and they’re going to Mr. Chesney’s house. They’re going to get their revenge on Mr. Chesney.

And something very bad is going to happen.

I’m going there, too, Hannah decided.

I have to go, too.

She hurried to the garage to get her bike.

Mr. Chesney had repaired his mailbox, Hannah saw. The hand-carved swan wings floated out from the pole, which had been returned to its erect position.

Crouching behind the same low evergreen, Hannah watched the three boys across the street. They hesitated at the edge of Mr. Chesney’s yard, hidden from the house by the tall hedge.

In the pale white light of the streetlamp, Hannah could see them grinning and joking. Then she saw Fred shove Danny toward the mailbox.

Hannah raised her gaze beyond the hedge to Mr. Chesney’s small house. Orange light glowed dimly from the living room window. The porch-light was on. The rest of the house sat in darkness.

Was Mr. Chesney home? Hannah couldn’t tell.

His beat-up old Plymouth wasn’t in the driveway.

Hannah crouched behind the evergreen. Its prickly branches bobbed in a light breeze.

She watched Danny struggle to pull up the mailbox. Alan and Fred were standing behind him, urging him on.

Danny gripped both jutting wings and pulled.

Fred slapped him on the back. “Harder!” he cried.

“What a wimp!” Alan declared, laughing.

Hannah kept glancing nervously up to the house. The boys were so noisy. What made them so sure that Mr. Chesney wasn’t home?

What made them so sure that Chesney wouldn’t keep his promise and come after them with his shotgun?

Hannah shuddered. She felt a trickle of perspiration slide down her forehead.

She watched Danny tug furiously at the mailbox. With a hard pull, he tilted it at an angle.

Fred and Alan cheered gleefully.

Danny began to rock the mailbox, pushing it with his shoulder, then pulling it back. It was coming loose, tilting farther with each push, each pull.

Hannah heard Danny’s loud groan as he gave it a final strong push—and the mailbox fell onto its side on the ground. He backed away, a triumphant smile on his face.

Fred and Alan cheered again and slapped him high-fives.

Fred picked up the mailbox, hoisted it on his shoulder, and paraded back and forth in front of the hedge with it, as if it were an enemy flag.

As they celebrated their triumph, Hannah again glanced over the hedge to the dimly lit house.

No sign of Mr. Chesney.

Maybe he wasn’t home. Maybe the boys would get away without getting caught.

But why did Hannah still have the heavy feeling of dread weighing her down, chilling her body?

She gasped as she saw a shadow slide past the corner of the house.

Mr. Chesney?

No.

Squinting hard into the dim light, Hannah felt her heart begin to thud against her chest.

No one there. But what was that shadow?

She had definitely seen it, a shape darker than the long night shadows, slithering against the grayness of the house.

The boys’ loud voices interrupted her thoughts, drawing her attention away from the house.

Fred had tossed the mailbox into the hedge. Now they had moved toward the driveway. They were discussing something, arguing loudly. Alan laughed. Fred gave Alan a playful shove. Danny was saying something, but Hannah couldn’t hear his words.

Get away, Hannah urged them in her mind. Get away from there. You pulled your stupid prank, had your stupid revenge.

Now get away—before you get caught.

The evergreen limbs bobbed silently in a gust of hot wind. Hannah stepped back into the darkness, her eyes on the boys.

They were huddled together at the bottom of the driveway. They were talking excitedly, all three at once. Then Hannah saw a flicker of light. It glowed for a moment, then went out.

It was a match, Hannah realized.

Alan was holding a large box of kitchen matches.

Hannah glanced nervously at the house. All was still. No Mr. Chesney. No shadows slithering across the wall.

Go home. Please, go home, she silently urged the boys.

But to her dismay, they turned and began jogging up the gravel driveway. They ducked low as they ran, trying not to be seen from the house.

What are they doing? Hannah wondered, feeling all of her muscles tighten in dread. A shiver of fear ran down her back as she stepped out from behind the evergreen.

What are they going to do?

She made her way quickly across the street and ducked in front of the hedge, her heart pounding.

She couldn’t hear them. They must be nearly up to the house by now.

Should she follow them?

She stood up slowly and raised herself on tiptoes to see over the hedge.

The three boys, Alan in the lead, followed by Danny and Fred, were bent low, running rapidly across the front of the house. Caught in the dim orange glow of light from the window, Hannah could see their determined expressions.

Where are they going? What are they planning?

Hannah watched them run into the darkness around the side of the house.

Still no sign of Mr. Chesney.

Keeping close to the hedge, Hannah made her way to the driveway. Then, without thinking about it, without even realizing it, she was running, too.

She stopped short as she saw Alan shoving Danny up into an open window. Then Fred stepped forward, lifted his hands to the window ledge, and allowed Alan to give him a boost.

No—please! Hannah wanted to cry.

Don’t go into the house! Don’t go in there!

But she was too late.

All three of them had climbed into the house.

Breathing hard, Hannah began to creep toward the window.

But halfway there, she felt something grab her leg and hold her in place.