Crandalls' Castle (7 page)

“It works for me,” Charli protested. “Whoever she is, she sounds really strange. What if she has a gun or a knife? Let's go! We can call the police from your house.” She tugged at Dan's sleeve, but he shook her off.

“Go if you want to,” he said. “She might get away before the police come, and then we'll never know whether …”

Whether she's real or not, Charli thought. Dan wasn't as sure of the truth as he pretended to be.

At the top of the stairs they stopped to listen. The landing was deep enough to be used as a small sitting room. On either side of it extended a hallway lined with doors, some open, some closed.

The voice was louder up here. “That way,” Charli whispered, wondering if she was the only one who thought the song sounded unreal, more like an echo than a real voice. She glanced at Dan and saw his eyes widen in alarm.

They started down the hallway, stopping to peek into each room. Except for an old chest in one room and a chair with a broken rocker in another, there was little to see but dusty floors and stained, peeling wallpaper. The bathroom held a huge, grimy-looking tub, and there was a partly closed door that turned out to be a linen cabinet. At each doorway, Charli's heart beat faster and the singing grew louder.

“In there,” Dan said. He nodded at a closed door at the end of the hall. “Has to be.”

Another sound began then, a soft gurgling.

“Hey, that's a baby!” Charli whispered. “She has a baby with her.” Maybe Dan was right; a homeless person had sneaked into the Castle … a mother who needed help … no one to be afraid of.…

The singing stopped, and laughter took its place. Mothers laugh with their babies, Charli reminded herself; mothers sing and laugh—only not like this. The laughter swirled around them like the shriek of a bird. Charli gasped as the baby began to scream.

The last door was open a crack. Dan kicked it hard and as it swung back the laughter and the screams stopped.

Charli peered around his shoulder. “Where are they?” she whispered. “Where's the baby?”

He gave the door another shove, and now they could see the entire room. It was empty except for a bed. In the middle of the sagging mattress was a faded quilt, oddly bunched.

“Nobody” Dan said, breathing hard. “There's nobody here at all!”

Charli turned and ran, half-falling down the staircase and out the big front door. She didn't know if Dan was behind her until she heard the door close and the key turn in the lock.

When she slowed to walk, at last, she was halfway across the field. Dan caught up to her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I said I didn't want to stay long, and we sure didn't,” he said dryly. “I never saw you move so fast.”

She glared at him. “I suppose you aren't as scared as I am,” she snapped. “I suppose you think there was a real woman and a real baby in that room. Hiding in the closet or something!”

“There aren't any closets,” Dan said. “Didn't you notice? That house was built when people hung their clothes in wardrobes. Which is another great thing for my dad to keep in mind when he thinks about furnishing all those bedrooms.”

“But he
won't
furnish them,” Charli said, shocked. “Not when we tell him—”

“We're not going to tell him,” Dan said flatly. “At least, I'm not going to. What's the point? If there's one thing that would make him even more determined to go ahead it would be to hear that the Castle is haunted. He'd put an ad in the papers, for Pete's sake: ‘Spend the night in a genuine haunted house. Ghost guaranteed, one to a customer!'”

Charli groaned. “But he wants me to help,” she wailed. “I can't work there!”

Dan walked faster.

“Could they have been behind the door?” she demanded desperately. “A lady and her baby? Is that possible?”

“No, it isn't,” Dan said gruffly. “Maybe someone was playing a trick on us—who knows?” Then, as if he were reading her mind, he closed off the only escape route she had. “If you're smart you won't tell Aunt Rona about this either,” he said. “She'd probably try to help—tell my dad she's decided you shouldn't work this summer or something—but she'd tell Ray about it, too. And I can guess what he'd say about people who believe in ghosts.”

Chapter Eleven

SOPHIA'S JOURNAL

Dan calls the twins' mountain-climbing adventure a Crandall Moment. That's how his family lives, he says, one near-disaster after another,
especially his dad
. If that's so, then I guess they already understand that Will is a dangerous person. But they don't know how dangerous, and neither do I. I keep waiting for a sign.

I've had some Crandall Moments of my own, but they aren't disasters—just neat memories I'll take with me if I have to leave here next week or next month. Whenever. Yesterday, when I called Mickey and held out my arms, he took three or four steps before he toppled over! And last night I discovered Lilly had put her mother's hand-stitched spread on my bed. I could hardly believe it. If I had something my mother made, I'd keep it locked up in a safe.

And then today. For some reason I slept through all the morning clatter, and when I finally went downstairs Lilly and Will and the kids were nearly through eating breakfast. I smelled warm cinnamon rolls and—this is strange—it made me think again of my mother. Actually, I don't remember her at all, but for a few seconds I felt as if I did.

I must have looked happy, because Will said, “Hey, Sophia's smiling,” as if that was a big deal. Dan pushed the rolls toward my chair and said, “You'd better grab one while you have a chance. You're lucky the monsters left any for you.”

“Not a monster,” Gene shouted. “I only had two. Terry had three and a half.”

Terry yelled, “Didn't,” and a battle began. Mickey cried.

Will said, “Shame on you kids, you've scared the baby,” but Lilly laughed. “He needs a clean diaper, poor dear,” she said. “I'll take him.” She stood up and looked at her noisy kids as if all that racket was music to her.

Dan rolled his eyes and said, “Time to go to work, thank goodness!” And Lilly laughed some more. As they walked down the hall together, I heard her say, “You were just as bad when you were their age, and look at you now.” You could tell he's absolutely perfect in her eyes—they all are.

With no one but Will and me left to listen, the twins quieted down. Then Terry smiled, which really does make him look like an angel, and said, “Let's play hide-and-seek. That would be fun.”

I said, “Okay, soon as I have my breakfast,” and the smile disappeared.

“Not you, Sophia—Daddy,” he said. “We want Daddy.”

Will looked pleased. “Okay,” he said. “Ten minutes, no more. You go out in the backyard and wait until Sophia calls you to come in.” He winked at me as if he liked hide-and-seek as much as they did.

The twins dashed out the back door, and—well, you won't believe what happened after that. Will kicked off his shoes and went into the pantry, which is a long, narrow closet-room with cupboards and a counter, and shelves that go nearly to the ceiling. For a second or two he stared at the shelves, and then he climbed onto the counter in his stocking feet. He began taking canisters and boxes and jars from the top shelf, his long arms swooping down to the counter, up and down, up and down, like a robot's.

“Been thinking about this ever since the last time we played,” he panted. “You'll see—it'll drive the kids crazy!”

It drove me crazy, just watching him. In no time, he'd made a total mess of the pantry, piling boxes in teetery stacks and shoving cans to the back of the counter with his feet. I thought, What will Lilly say? What would my great-grandmother say if she saw him, or Mrs. Wagner? Why was he doing it, anyway?

I found out why, soon enough. When the top shelf was empty, he stepped onto a big box labeled cookbooks and climbed from there to the edge of the first shelf. Then he sort of chinned himself on the top shelf and swung upward. It sounds impossible, but the next thing I knew he was stretched out almost full length on the highest shelf. Only his blue-jeaned knees stuck out over the edge.

“Okay, Sophia,” he called. “Tell them they can come in.”

Lilly came back to the kitchen with Mickey just as the twins threw open the screen door and raced around. They looked under the table and in the broom closet and then tore into the dining room and up the stairs, making enough noise for ten.

Lilly said, “Uh-oh, hide-and-seek,” as if she'd seen this before. “Where …?”

Now comes the explosion, I thought. I nodded toward the pantry and held my breath.

Her big eyes widened when she saw the clutter of boxes and jars and cans on the counter. “Oh, Will,” she groaned, and Will peeked over the edge of the top shelf. He looked really pleased with himself.

“You are out of your mind,” she said. Then she giggled!

He made a shushing sound and moved out of sight, because the twins were clattering back down the stairs. When they burst into the kitchen, their faces were red with excitement.

“Are we warm or cold?” Gene demanded. “If Daddy's in the basement, that's not fair.”

Lilly said, “You're warm. Especially you, Terry. Oh, you're very, very, very warm!”

Gene ran to the pantry door and pushed Terry out of the way.

“He's not in here,” he yelled. “There's nobody in here, Mama. You shouldn't say that—”

“Look!” Terry pointed up at the blue knees poking over the edge of the top shelf. “I found him!” he yelled. “He's right there!”

Will's long legs shot out over the edge of the shelf. His feet danced in the air like a puppet's until they settled on the box of cookbooks.

“You both found me!” he shouted. “What a pair of detectives!” Then he was back on the floor, gathering up the boys in his arms and hoisting one to each shoulder. He grinned at Lilly and me and headed out the back door, his knees bent in a kind of duckwalk so the kids wouldn't bump their heads.

When they were gone the kitchen was awfully quiet. Lilly put Mickey in his high chair and picked up Will's shoes from under the table. There was a hole in the sole of one of them.

“Look at that,” she said, shaking her head. “He should get this fixed. I keep telling him, but he never has time.”

“I'll put that stuff back on the shelf,” I told her. “It won't take long.”

She looked confused, as if she'd forgotten the mess in there. “That would be nice,” she said. “Will could do it later, but …” Her voice sort of trailed off and she smiled, a wonderful, dreamy kind of smile. “You know, it's not a big deal, Sophia. Which do you think Gene and Terry will remember longer—a nice, neat pantry or finding their daddy tucked up there on that shelf? Just imagine how they'll laugh about it twenty years from now. They'll probably tell their kids about the funny things their grandpa did.”

I've never heard anyone talk like that before. Not the Stengels or the Wagners, or anyone else I've lived with. They talked about work and about money, and I guess they made jokes once in a while, but I don't remember them.

“Will wants to get started over at the Castle today,” Lilly said. “He's going to ask if you'd like to help—he'd pay you, of course. I just want to be sure you understand you don't have to do it, Sophia. When he gets excited about a project, he assumes everyone else is as thrilled as he is. They sometimes aren't, but that enthusiasm is one of the things I love most about him.”

I'd already made up my mind not to work at the Castle—I told you that. I don't want to spend a lot of time with Charli. I don't like the looks of that creepy old house. I'm worried about Will. None of that had changed, but somehow it didn't matter right then. I guess I was having a Crandall Moment of my own because I said, “It's okay. I'll help.” I want to feel like a part of the family in every way I can, for as long as they'll let me.

Chapter Twelve

CHARLI

“Uncle Will is going to start working over at the Castle today,” Charli's mother said. “He called before you got up to see if you were ready.”

For the first time in her life Charli was glad she had a dentist's appointment.

“I can't,” she said quickly. “I have to see Dr. Geder, remember?”

“What about this afternoon, then?” her mother said. “You could go for a couple of hours, couldn't you? Just to show we support him.”

“But do we want to support him?” Ray asked, looking up from the morning paper. “As far as I'm concerned, he's making the biggest mistake of his life.”

Good! Charli thought. He's taking my side. Then he spoiled it by adding, “But you need
something
to do this summer, Charli. I suppose helping Will is better than nothing.”

“Sophia's going to be there,” her mother added. “That should be more fun than working by yourself.”

They were ganging up on her—her mother, Ray, Uncle Will, even Miss Perfect Sophia, who was willing to help when Uncle Will's own niece would rather go to the dentist.

“That old house is scary.” She had to say it. “I hate it!”

Her mother looked surprised, and Ray stared at her. “Scary?” He repeated the word slowly, as if he'd never heard it before. “How old are you, Charli, my girl? Do you really believe every old house is scary?”

“No, not every one,” she began. The words faded under Ray's disapproving look. “Ask Dan,” she tried again. “We heard voices upstairs, and I saw a shadow—”

Ray shook his head. “Please spare me,” he said. “I don't want to hear about it.”

“Just give it a try, dear,” Rona suggested. “You love Uncle Will.…”

“Love has nothing to do with it,” Ray interrupted. “You know I think that so-called Castle is a lost cause, but at least it will give Charli something to do. I hate to see her lying around watching TV and reading all summer. She needs exercise.” Then he clapped his hands and grinned. “End of lecture,” he said briskly. “Do you want a ride to the dentist's office, Charli?”