Ann Martin - The Ghost At Dawn's House

Two pages fell out, and I replaced them guiltily, even though I knew I hadn't done anything wrong.

"Like most New England towns," the chapter began, "Stoneybrooke is replete with Indian myths and legends. But one local legend, not to be discounted lightly, is the unsolved mystery of Mister Jared Mullray." That did it. I was hooked. I started reading in earnest.

It seemed that long before Enos Cotterling had written his history, around the year 1810, a family in Stoneybrooke, the Mullrays, had fallen into financial trouble. They were deeply in debt to a banker named Mathias Bradford and couldn't pay their bills. The only things they owned that were worth much at all were their home, "a clapboard structure out past the Smythe property," and their small farm, Wood Acres. In order to pay off their debts, the Mullrays were forced to sell both, including their furniture and many of their belongings.

Old Man Mullray wanted to move up to Peacham, a tiny, young town in Vermont, and he convipced his wife, his daughter, his son-in-law, and their three children to move with him. There, he said, they could start over. But he could not convince his younger son, thirty-year-old Jared, to go with them. Jared, the author wrote, had never been "quite right in

the head." He loved Wood Acres — a little too much.

Early on a Monday morning, the Mullrays packed a few personal belongings onto a cart, saddled up one of their horses, and prepared to leave. Mathias Bradford, who was going to sell off the farm, arrived with some men from the bank just as the Mullrays were tossing their last bag onto the cart.

" Jared!" shouted Old Man Mullray.

"I ain't leaving!" was the reply everyone heard. But Mr. Bradford was to say later that it didn't sound as if his voice was coining from the house or the barn — sort of somewhere in between, although no one could see him anywhere.

(A clap of thunder sounded, and I shivered, pulling my blanket more tightly around me.)

Old Man Mullray glanced at this wife, who shrugged sadly. Then he flicked the reins, and the horse plodded down the lane. The Mullrays left Wood Acres behind forever.

Now, Mathias Bradford and four other men (one of whom was the head of the town council) had watched the Mullrays drive off without Jared. And they had heard his disembodied voice say that he wasn't leaving. But although the house and barn were searched thoroughly as every last stick of furniture and every last

harness were sold off, no one ever saw Jared again. He simply disappeared.

A few people said he had packed up and moved to Alaska, but Mr. Bradford didn't believe that. He had heard Jared and was convinced he'd never leave. The only question was — where was he? Soon another rumor began to circulate about Jared, and the people of Stoneybrooke were more inclined to believe this one. They thought that Jared, who couldn't bear to leave Wood Acres, was still there . . . somewhere. They thought he must know about some secret hiding place, and that he stayed there by day and scavenged for food at night.

Decades passed. By the time Enos Cotterling was writing his history, he presumed that Jared was dead. In fact, the story about Jared had become a ghost story. Jared, people said, had died in his secret hiding place, but his spirit remained. Wood Acres (which had been swallowed up by another, larger, farm and was no longer called Wood Acres) was haunted by Jared, who was always on the prowl not only for food, but for trinkets and things that he could sell in order to try to pay back Mr. Bradford.

I put the book down thoughtfully. Wood Acres, a ghost, a secret hiding pi... A secret hiding place! Suddenly my arms broke out in

crawly gooseflesh. I shivered so hard my teeth chattered.

It fit! Everything fit! Enos Cotterling hadn't described where Wood Acres was, but it must be my house and my barn! The house was old enough, it had once been part of a farm, and there certainly was a good hiding place on the property ... a place you could yell from and sound as if you were between the house and the barn, yet not be seen.

There really was a ghost in our secret passage, and that ghost was crazy Jared Mullray!

Chapter 10.

It was eight o'clock when Claudia reached the Newtons'. Her job that night really should have been one of the easiest in baby-sitting history. Lucy was already in her crib and sound asleep. Jamie had already eaten dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Newton were only going to be gone for two hours. All Claudia had to do was put Jamie to bed — and the evening was hers.

That's how the evening should have gone. There was just one problem: Jamie didn't want to go to bed. I mean, he really didn't want to go to bed.

When Claudia rang the Newtons' doorbell that night, Jamie answered it. Right away, Claudia could tell he was wound up.

"Hi-hi! Hi-hi! Hi-hi!" he greeted her.

"Hi-hi, Jamie," said Claud.

Jamie was jumping up and down, up and down, like a yo-yo in blue jeans. "I learned a new song!" he exclaimed. "Listen to this: I'm in love with a big blue frog. A big blue frog loves me. It's not as bad as it may seem. He wears glasses and he's six foot three. Oh — "

Jamie's song was interrupted by his father. Mr. Newton rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I taught him that," he said. "He's been singing it all day. And there are several more verses."

Claudia laughed. "I think it's funny," she said.

"Only the first seventy-five times," replied Mr. Newton, but he was smiling.

Mrs. Newton came down the stairs as Claudia stepped inside. "Hi, honey," she said. "Well, the baby's asleep, and Jamie has eaten. I don't think he needs a bath tonight — "

"Yea!" interrupted Jamie.

"So just put his p.j.'s on him. He's had a long day and should go to bed — " (she glanced at Jamie, who was listening intently) " — s-o-o-n," she spelled out.

"No fair spelling, Mommy!" Jamie protested.

"Okay," Claudia said to Mrs. Newton. Then she added, "Don't worry, Jamie. We'll have fun tonight before you go to bed."

"Goody."

The Newtons left then, and Jamie began hopping up and down again.

"Okay, Jamie. Time to put your p.j.'s on," said Claudia.

"Already?" he whined.

"Yup. It's almost bedtime. Come on upstairs."

"Just let me show you this one thing first. . . . Okay?"

"Okay," Claudia relented. "Just one thing."

"It's down in the playroom." Jamie took Claudia by the hand and led her down a flight of stairs to the Newtons' rec room. He stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

"What is it?" asked Claudia.

"It's, um ..." Jamie put his finger in his mouth. "It's this!" He darted over to a beat-up dump truck. "Look at it," he said.

"Your old truck?" asked Claudia, puzzled.

Jamie paused. "Oh, no. That wasn't it. I meant..." He picked up a little wooden cow that was lying next to the truck. "I meant my cow."

"Jamie," said Claudia, growing suspicious.

"No, I meant my — my Beary Bear," he said, snatching up a stuffed animal.

"That was three things, Jame-o," Claudia pointed out gentlyf "Time to go upstairs now."

"Can I wear my Paddington Bear pyjamas, Claudy?" asked Jamie.

"Sure," replied Claudia, glad he was actually thinking about bed.

- "Good," said Jamie, "'Cause they're in the wash."

"Then I'm afraid you can't wear them." Claudia led Jamie back upstairs.

"But you just said I could."

"I didn't know they were in the wash when

I said that. You can't wear them if they're dirty."

"Let's wash them," suggested Jamie.

"Sorry. That'll take too much time. We'd have to dry them, too."

"How long would it take?"

"Too long."

"How many minutes?"

"Twelve hundred and forty-nine," replied Claudia.

"Wow," said Jamie.

Claudia and Jamie tiptoed past Lucy's room and into Jamie's. Claudia pointed to his bed. "Look," she said. "Mommy laid out your farm pyjamas."