به خانه ارواح خوش آمديد فصل دوازدهم

chapter 12

Josh was so startled, the flashlight tumbled from his hand and clattered onto the street. The light flickered but didn’t go out.

By the time Josh had managed to pick it up, our pursuer had caught up to us. I spun around to face him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Ray! What are you doing here?”

Josh aimed the light at Ray’s face, but Ray shot his arms up to shield his face and ducked back into the darkness. “What are you two doing here?” he cried, sounding almost as startled as I did.

“You - you scared us,” Josh said angrily, aiming the flashlight back down at our feet.

“Sorry,” Ray said, “I would’ve called out, but I wasn’t sure it was you.”

“Josh has this crazy idea about where Petey might be,” I told him, still struggling to catch my breath. “That’s why we’re out here.”

“What about you?” Josh asked Ray.

“Well, sometimes I have trouble sleeping,” Ray said softly.

“Don’t your parents mind you being out so late?” I asked.

In the glow from the flashlight, I could see a wicked smile cross his face. “They don’t know.”

“Are we going to the cemetery or not?” Josh asked impatiently. Without waiting for an answer, he started jogging up the road, the light bobbing on the pavement in front of him. I turned and followed, wanting to stay close to the light.

“Where are you going?” Ray called, hurrying to catch up.

“The cemetery,” I called back.

“No,” Ray said. “You’re not.”

His voice was so low, so threatening, that I stopped. “What?”

“You’re not going there,” Ray repeated. I couldn’t see his face. It was hidden in darkness. But his words sounded menacing.

“Hurry!” Josh called back to us. He hadn’t slowed down. He didn’t seem to notice the threat in Ray’s words.

“Stop, Josh!” Ray called. It sounded more like an order than a request. “You can’t go there!”

“Why not?” I demanded, suddenly afraid. Was Ray threatening Josh and me? Did he know something we didn’t? Or was I making a big deal out of nothing once again?

I stared into the darkness, trying to see his face.

“You’d be nuts to go there at night!” he declared.

I began to think I had misjudged him. He was afraid to go there. That’s why he was trying to stop us.

“Are you coming or not?” Josh demanded, getting farther and farther ahead of us.

“I don’t think we should,” Ray warned.

Yes, he’s afraid, I decided. I only imagined that he was threatening us.

“You don’t have to. But we do,” Josh insisted, picking up his speed.

“No. Really,” Ray said. “This is a bad idea.” But now he and I were running side by side to catch up with Josh.

“Petey’s there,” Josh said, “I know he is.”

We passed the dark, silent school. It seemed much bigger at night. Josh’s light flashed through the low tree branches as we turned the corner onto Cemetery Drive.

“Wait - please,” Ray pleaded. But Josh didn’t slow down. Neither did I. I was eager to get there and get it over with.

I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. The air was hot and still. I wished I hadn’t worn long sleeves. I felt my hair. It was dripping wet.

The clouds still covered the moon as we reached the cemetery. We stepped through a gate in the low wall. In the darkness, I could see the crooked rows of gravestones.

Josh’s light traveled from stone to stone, jumping up and down as he walked. “Petey!” he called suddenly, interrupting the silence.

He’s disturbing the sleep of the dead, I thought, feeling a sudden chill of fear.

Don’t be silly, Amanda. “Petey!” I called, too, forcing away my morbid thoughts.

“This is a very bad idea,” Ray said, standing very close to me.

“Petey! Petey!” Josh called.

“I know it’s a bad idea,” I admitted to Ray. “But I didn’t want Josh to come here by himself.”

“But we shouldn’t be here,” Ray insisted.

I was beginning to wish he’d go away. No one had forced him to come. Why was he giving us such a hard time?

“Hey - look at this!” Josh called from several yards up ahead.

My sneakers crunching over the soft ground, I hurried between the rows of graves. I hadn’t realized that we had already walked the entire length of the graveyard.

“Look,” Josh said again, his flashlight playing over a strange structure built at the edge of the cemetery.

It took me a little while to figure out what it was in the small circle of light. It was so unexpected. It was some kind of theater. An amphitheater, I guess you’d call it, circular rows of bench seats dug into the ground, descending like stairs to a low stagelike platform at the bottom.

“What on earth!” I exclaimed.

I started forward to get a closer look.

“Amanda - wait. Let’s go home,” Ray called. He grabbed at my arm, but I hurried away, and he grabbed only air.

“Weird! Who would build an outdoor theater at the edge of a cemetery?” I asked.

I looked back to see if Josh and Ray were following me, and my sneaker caught against something. I stumbled to the ground, hitting my knee hard.

“Ow. What was that?”

Josh shone the light on it as I climbed slowly, painfully, to my feet. I had tripped over an enormous, upraised tree root.

In the flickering light, I followed the gnarled root over to a wide, old tree several yards away. The huge tree was bent over the strange below-ground theater, leaning at such a low angle that it looked likely to topple over at any second. Big clumps of roots were raised up from the ground. Overhead, the tree’s branches, heavy with leaves, seemed to lean to the ground.

“Timberrr!” Josh yelled.

“How weird!” I exclaimed. “Hey, Ray - what is this place?”

“It’s a meeting place,” Ray said quietly, standing close beside me, staring straight ahead at the leaning tree. “They use it sort of like a town hall. They have town meetings here.”

“In the cemetery?” I cried, finding it hard to believe.

“Let’s go,” Ray urged, looking very nervous.

All three of us heard the footsteps. They were behind us, somewhere in the rows of graves. We turned around. Josh’s light swept over the ground.

“Petey!”

There he was, standing between the nearest row of low, stone grave markers. I turned happily to Josh. “I don’t believe it!” I cried. “You were right!”

“Petey! Petey!” Josh and I both started running toward our dog.

But Petey arched back on his hind legs as if he were getting ready to run away. He stared at us, his eyes red as jewels in the light of the flashlight.

“Petey! We found you!” I cried.

The dog lowered his head and started to trot away.

“Petey! Hey - come back! Don’t you recognize us?”

With a burst of speed, Josh caught up with him and grabbed him up off the ground. “Hey, Petey, what’s the matter, fella?”

As I hurried over, Josh dropped Petey back to the ground and stepped back. “Ooh - he stinks!”

“What?” I cried.

“Petey - he stinks. He smells like a dead rat!” Josh held his nose.

Petey started to walk slowly away.

“Josh, he isn’t glad to see us,” I wailed. “He doesn’t even seem to recognize us. Look at him!”

It was true. Petey walked to the next row of gravestones, then turned and glared at us.

I suddenly felt sick. What had happened to Petey? Why was he acting so differently? Why wasn’t he glad to see us?

“I don’t get it,” Josh said, still making a face from the odor the dog gave off. “Usually, if we leave the room for thirty seconds, he goes nuts when we come back.”

“We’d better go!” Ray called. He was still at the edge of the cemetery near the leaning tree.

“Petey - what’s wrong with you?” I called to the dog. He didn’t respond. “Don’t you remember your name? Petey? Petey?”

“Yuck! What a stink!” Josh exclaimed.

“We’ve got to get him home and give him a bath,” I said. My voice was shaking. I felt really sad. And frightened.

“Maybe this isn’t Petey,” Josh said thoughtfully. The dog’s eyes again glared red in the beam of light.

“It’s him all right,” I said quietly. “Look. He’s dragging the leash. Go get him, Josh - and let’s go home.”

“You get him!” Josh cried. “He smells too bad!”

“Just grab his leash. You don’t have to pick him up,” I said.

“No. You.”

Josh was being stubborn again. I could see that I had no choice. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll get him. But I’ll need the light.” I grabbed the flashlight from Josh’s hand and started to run toward Petey.

“Sit, Petey. Sit!” I ordered. It was the only command Petey ever obeyed.

But he didn’t obey it this time. Instead, he turned and trotted away, holding his head down low.

“Petey - stop! Petey, come on!” I yelled, exasperated. “Don’t make me chase you.”

“Don’t let him get away!” Josh yelled, running up behind me.

I moved the flashlight from side to side along the ground. “Where is he?”

“Petey! Petey!” Josh called, sounding shrill and desperate.

I couldn’t see him.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me we’ve lost him again!” I said.

We both started to call him. “What’s wrong with that mutt?” I cried.

I moved the beam of light down one long row of gravestones, then, moving quickly, down the next. No sign of him. We both kept calling his name.

And then the circle of light came to rest on the front of a granite tombstone.

Reading the name on the stone, I stopped short.

And gasped.

“Josh - look!” I grabbed Josh’s sleeve. I held on tight.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” His face filled with confusion.

“Look! The name on the gravestone.”

It was Karen Somerset.

Josh read the name. He stared at me, still confused.

“That’s my new friend Karen. The one I talk to on the playground every day,” I said.

“Huh? It must be her grandmother or something,” Josh said, and then added impatiently, “Come on. Look for Petey.”

“No. Look at the dates,” I said to him.

We both read the dates under Karen Somerset’s name. 1960-1972.

“It can’t be her mother or grandmother,” I said, keeping the beam of light on the stone despite my trembling hand. “This girl died when she was twelve. My age. And Karen is twelve, too. She told me.”

“Amanda - “ Josh scowled and looked away.

But I took a few steps and beamed the light onto the next gravestone. There was a name on it I’d never heard before. I moved on to the next stone. Another name I’d never heard.

“Amanda, come on!” Josh whined.

The next gravestone had the name George Carpenter on it. 1975-1988.

“Josh - look! It’s George from the playground,” I called.

“Amanda, we have to get Petey,” he insisted. Grabbing the flashlight from me.

But I couldn’t pull myself away from the gravestones. I went from one to the next, trying to read the names in the darkness.

To my growing horror, I found Jerry Franklin. And then Bill Gregory.

All the kids we had played softball with. They all had gravestones here.

My heart thudding, I moved down the crooked row, my sneakers sinking into the soft grass. I felt numb, numb with fear. I struggled to see the writing on the last stone in the row.

RAY THURSTON. 1977-1988.

“Huh?”

I could hear Josh calling me, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away. I read the deeply etched inscription again:

RAY THURSTON. 1977-1988.

I stood there, staring at the letters and numbers. I stared at them till they didn’t make sense anymore, until they were just a gray blur.

Suddenly, I realized that Ray had crept up beside the gravestone and was staring at me.

“Ray - “ I managed to say, moving the light over the name on the stone. “Ray, this one is you!”

His eyes flared, glowing like dying embers.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said softly, moving toward me. “I’m so sorry, Amanda.”