Crandalls' Castle (8 page)

“I'll take my bike,” Charli said. “For exercise.” She suspected the “lecture” might begin again in the car.

It was after two before she finally ran out of excuses and set off for the Castle—the long way. As soon as she turned onto the lake road she could see Uncle Will out in front of the house, picking up scraps of paper and soda cans and dropping them into one of the two trash bags he dragged behind him. When he saw her, he dropped the bags and waved both arms in welcome.

“I can do that,” she called. She'd much rather pick up trash than go inside.

Uncle Will shook his head. “I'll be through with this in a few minutes, and then I'm going to cut the grass,” he told her. “Sophia's sweeping. The floors have to be refinished some day, but right now we'll have to settle for a good cleaning.” He looked at the Castle proudly. “Just think how wonderful it's going to look when all those dirty windows are shining, Charli. I'm going to plant flowers on either side of the steps, and some shrubs, too. Before you know it people will be lining up to invest money in the place. Won't that be terrific?”

Charli tried to see the Castle the way Uncle Will was seeing it. When he was excited, he was awfully convincing—if you didn't know what Ray and Dan thought about the Castle.

“There's soda in a cooler in the kitchen,” he called as she started up the steps. “Take all the breaks you want.”

The heavy front door was propped open with a brick. Charli stepped inside and looked quickly up the stairs.

“I've just started to mop,” Sophia said. She was in the dining room, looking as if she knew exactly how scared Charli was and thought it was a big joke. “There's another mop and a bucket in the kitchen.”

Bossy! Charli grumbled to herself as she went down the hall to the big, old-fashioned kitchen. But she had to admit her mother had been right; it was going to be easier working in the Castle with another person close by. Even Sophia.

There was floor cleaner in a box of supplies on the counter, and soon she was sloshing sudsy water across the living-room floor. She had never mopped a floor before, and she wondered if there was a right way to do it. If there was, she was sure Sophia would tell her. With each stroke she glanced at the wall opposite the windows, in case the shadow-cradle reappeared. She almost wished it would, so that Sophia could see it, too. Maybe then she'd be sorry she'd called Charli childish for believing in ghosts.

A half hour dragged by. Charli went out to the kitchen to fill the pail with fresh water. When she returned, Sophia met her in the hall.

“Your uncle's calling you.”

Charli dropped the bucket and dashed out the door, grateful for the chance to get out of the house. Uncle Will was leaning out the window of his truck.

“Look up there, kiddo,” he shouted. “Second floor, fourth window from the end.”

Charli looked where he was pointing. Her heart thumped at the thought of what she might see, but there was nothing in the window at all.

“How about that!” Uncle Will exclaimed. “Must be dozens of 'em!”

Charli squinted. Insects crawled around the window frame and hovered near the glass.

“Wasps!” Uncle Will announced. “I just noticed 'em. I'm going into town for more trash bags and some geraniums, and I'll pick up spray if we need it. Run upstairs and see if there's a nest between the storm window and the inside pane.”

“Upstairs?” Charli choked on the word. “I—I can't—”

“You can't?” Uncle Will cocked his head at her. “You feeling okay, Charli?”

She hesitated. Another second and he might decide she was sick and send her home. He would tell her mother. Her mother would tell Ray. The whole family would know she'd refused to go upstairs in the Castle and would want to know why.

“Okay,” she said hoarsely. She ran back into the house before he could ask any more questions.

“He wants me to look for a wasps' nest,” she told Sophia. “Upstairs.”

Sophia looked at her closely. “Are you afraid of wasps? They won't hurt you if you don't get too close.”

“I'm not afraid of wasps,” Charli said. Now she really did feel sick.

“Well, then.”

Of course! Wonderful, brave Sophia wasn't afraid of wasps, or of ghosts, either. Charli started up the stairs, her feet so heavy it was hard to lift them.

“I'll go, too,” Sophia offered, suddenly at her side. “I haven't seen the upstairs.”

Charli let out her breath. She climbed faster to keep up with Sophia's quick steps. When they reached the landing, Sophia started to turn right, but Charli grabbed her wrist with sweating fingers.

“Not there,” she whispered, terrified that the singing might start again. “It's this way, fourth window from the end.”

They walked down the hall together, glancing through doorways. There were two windows in each room, spreading sunlight across the bare floors in dusty rectangles. When they reached the third bedroom, they could see the small black bodies that darted between the panes.

Sophia crossed to the window. “There's a nest all right,” she said. “A big one. Want to see?”

“No!” Charli said. “I'll tell Uncle Will.” She ran back to the stairs, her eyes on the closed door at the other end of the hall.

It wasn't until she reached the front door that she realized she was alone. Sophia was still on the top step, looking from side to side and frowning.

“What's wrong?” Charli asked. “What are you looking at?”

Sophia gave her head a little shake, as if she were waking from a dream. She started down the steps. “I'm not looking at anything,” she said. “What is there to see?”

Chapter Thirteen

SOPHIA'S JOURNAL

Charli nagged all the way home from the Castle. I take bigger steps than she does, but she ran to keep up. “You did see something upstairs. What was it? Why did you get that look on your face?”

I said, “I don't know what you're talking about,” but she didn't believe me. And she could get me in trouble, the way Linda Wagner did.

“What do you think I saw?” I tried to make it sound like a joke. “Besides a dusty hallway.”

“A ghost,” she said. “I bet you saw a ghost.”

“Well, I didn't,” I told her. “What's wrong with you, anyway? If you go around telling people the house is haunted, you'll make your uncle feel bad. He loves that place, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Uncle Will wouldn't care,” she said. “Dan says Uncle Will thinks people would pay more to spend the night in a haunted house.”

She's probably right, I thought. Will Crandall would welcome a ghost. But I know he wouldn't welcome being told Crandalls' Castle is an awful place. He'd say, “What makes you say a thing like that, Sophia?” And I'd say, “When I went upstairs I had the same feeling I had the day my school burned in Sacramento.” Then he'd say, “What are you talking about?” I'd have to tell him.…

I don't want to think about it. The way he'd look at me, wondering what kind of nut he had staying at his house! The way Lilly would look at me—like, why is this weird, ungrateful kid trying to make my Will unhappy?

“Just leave me out of it,” I told Charli. “I don't like ghost stories.” We had reached the woods at the end of the Crandalls' yard. I rushed ahead and up the back steps before she could ask any more questions.

I wanted to come up here to my bedroom and think for a while, before I had to talk to anyone else, but no luck. Lilly was at the stove, stirring tomato sauce with a long spoon and helping Mickey stand up with the other hand. I grabbed him just as he was about to fall.

“Sophia to the rescue as usual,” Lilly said. “You look tired, dear. Did Will work you girls too hard?”

“No way.” I whirled around the kitchen with Mickey in my arms to prove I wasn't tired at all.

“I thought Will would be home by now,” she said, laughing at us. “We'll eat as soon as he comes.”

I told her he had gone downtown for spray to get rid of a big wasps' nest at the Castle.

She nodded and said something that really surprised me. “You know, I still haven't been inside that house. I've passed it for years, of course, but now we own it and I should go in and look around but …”

“Why don't you?” I said.

She gave the sauce an extra hard stir. “Well,” she said, “I realize it's very run-down, and I don't have Will's knack for seeing how things will turn out. Sometimes I just see the down side, and that makes me a terrible wet blanket. So I don't interfere. Will knows what he needs to do … he's a very hard worker … he …” She turned away from the stove, and I thought her face looked strained. But maybe I imagined it, because she smiled and said, “Will figures out how to support this lively family, and I take care of us at home. That's the way we both like it.”

I put Mickey in the high chair and started taking plates and glasses from the cupboard. How can she be so sure Will is doing the right thing when I know absolutely, positively, this time he's WRONG? The trouble is, he can be wrong and never have to admit it, even to himself.
That's what makes him dangerous
.

I thought about the Castle all through dinner and the twins' spaghetti-slurping contest. I couldn't stop thinking about it. The first floor is bad enough, but the second floor is worse. I didn't see a ghost up there, even though Charli is sure I did. I didn't
see anything
. I just knew I wouldn't spend a night in one of those rooms for a million dollars.

Charli was in the truck when Will and I came out of the house this morning. She looked at me hard, but I didn't look back.

“You ladies have a short workday today,” Will said. “How about getting started in the kitchen this morning? In a week or so I'd like to invite some big-money folks to look around—let them see how nice the Castle's going to be. Do what you can before eleven—I hear you have other plans for this afternoon.”

“What plans?” I asked.

Will looked at Charli, but she was very busy fastening her seat belt. Finally she said, “My mom has the day off, and we're going to the mall. Ray says you should come with us.”

I could tell from the way she said it what she thought of that idea.

“I can't,” I said. “Lilly might want me to—”

“Lilly wants you to have a good time,” Will interrupted. “So do I. You can't work all the time, girl. Go and enjoy yourself.”

I was just going to tell him I'd rather enjoy myself at home with Mickey, but then the truck bounced in and out of a pothole with a jolt that sent things flying off the dashboard. A book tumbled out of the glove compartment and landed in my lap.

“Hey, I'd forgotten that book,” Will said, so pleased you'd think he hit the pothole on purpose. “The real estate lady gave it to me when we closed the deal on the house. William Herndon's story of his life. He was born in the Castle and lived there till he was two or three years old. She thought we might want to put up a plaque in the living room or something.”

Charli asked, “Who's William Herndon?” She sounded about as interested as she did when she told me I was invited to go to the mall, but Will didn't notice.

“Just a former governor of the state,” he said. “How about that—a governor born in Crandalls' Castle!”

Charli shrugged. I wasn't much interested either. I was thinking about this afternoon. Charli didn't want me along. I didn't want to go. As far as I was concerned, it was one more time when I might say something that would get me into trouble.

When we reached the Castle, Will gave me the front door key and Charli a cooler. “Lemonade and cookies,” he said. “Made the lemonade myself. I'm going to work on the shutters out here—see if I can straighten them.”

I'd guessed we'd have to clean up that old kitchen sooner or later, but I wasn't looking forward to it. The refrigerator wouldn't be so bad, and the gas range—an old-fashioned one on high legs—would probably clean up okay, but the wood-burning stove was a disaster. It looked like a huge sooty bullfrog crouched against the wall.

Charli groaned and said, “What a mess!”

“Let's do the fridge and the gas stove first,” I said. “I'll ask Lilly tonight what we should use on the woodstove.”

She didn't argue, just began filling the buckets with hot water. Then she went over to the refrigerator and wrote her name on the door with a wet finger. I started on the gas stove. We didn't talk, but I knew she was watching me.

“You'll never get the gook out from under those burners,” she said after a while.

I grabbed a grate and tugged until it came loose, sending a shower of old crumbs to the floor.

“Nothing to it,” I said. “I'll soak the grates in the sink and wipe up what was underneath them. My great-grandmother had a stove like this one.”

She went back to washing the refrigerator. I'll say this for her, she worked hard—took out all the shelves and the drawers and scrubbed them. If Will ever turns this place into a bed-and-breakfast, he'll probably need a new fridge and a new stove, too, but by the time we finished, the old ones looked as good as possible.

The cupboards were next—tall with glass doors. We'd need a ladder for the top shelves.

Charli said, “I'll tell Uncle Will.” She ran down the hall to the front door, like a kid let out of school.

When she came back, about five minutes later, she had a little boy with her.

“The short ladder's at home,” she said. “Uncle Will's going to get it. This is Jake. We're supposed to give him lemonade.”

“I was helping,” the boy said. “I handed him nails and stuff.” He took the paper cup of lemonade Charli poured for him and looked around.

“This is a big house,” he said, in case we hadn't noticed.