Ann Martin - Stacey And The Mystery Of Stoneybrook

"That's right," said Claud. "The power to drive us crazy!" She was sitting on her bed, chewing grape bubble gum and blowing purple bubbles, which matched her tie-dyed T-shirt dress. "I mean, really. None of us can think about anything else."

"I hear you had a nightmare last night, Charlotte," said Mary Anne. "That sounded scary."

"It was!" said Charlotte. "Those bony old hands . . . I'll never forget them."

"Tell us again about everything you saw and heard at the house," said Dawn.

Charlotte and I told the whole story once more, from faces to flies to flames. Then Kristy told us again about what she'd found in Watson's old books, and Claud repeated the stuff she'd learned at the library.

"There's something else, too," she said. "I wasn't going to tell you all, because it sounds so weird. I thought you'd think I was crazy. But I went by the old house today, just before I came here."

We all leaned forward. She looked scared, almost as if she didn't want to think about what had happened.

"I was standing there looking at the house. I wasn't even very close to it. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my arm, but when I looked, nobody was there. It was like an invisible person was standing next to me, and he — or she — wanted my attention." Claud was being very serious. She was not kidding about this.

My mouth was hanging open. So was Charlotte's. I was glad that had never happened to me! That would have really been the last straw. Maybe we should just forget all about this house, I thought. This was getting too scary. I looked around the room. Everybody looked as scared as I felt, but they all looked fascinated, too. I knew we'd never give up now.

"What did you do, Claud?" asked Mary Anne.

"I ran!" said Claudia. "I wasn't about to

hang around and find out what it was they wanted from me. They probably wanted to steal my soul!"

"More likely they wanted to steal your Ding-Dongs," I said. "Even spirits like junk food." . We all laughed. I think everybody was feeling a little tense, and we just needed an excuse to giggle for awhile.

But the laughter stopped when Mallory spoke up. "You know," she said, "I just remembered something that happened to me a long time ago. It must have been last year some time. It was spring, and Vanessa and I had gone hunting for flowers together. We wanted to make a Mother's Day bouquet for our mom. We walked over to that house because I had remembered that old overgrown garden there. Sure enough, there were some really pretty flowers hidden in the weeds."

I had noticed those old flower beds. They lay along the side of the house.

"We picked the flowers and went home. My mom loved her bouquet, but that night I had the strangest nightmare." Mallory's voice was kind of dreamy. "In it, I was back at the house, staring up at it. In every window and doorway there were people, looking at me and holding out their bony hands. They didn't say anything, but I got the strongest feeling that they

were angry at me for stealing their lowers. They wanted them back." She shivered. "Of course, I couldn't give them back — they'd already been picked and given to my mom. What a scary dream. I just remembered it today!"

We all sat there quietly. We'd succeeded in scaring ourselves silly. Kristy tried to calm us down.

"Maybe we're letting this get to us too much. You know, I showed Watson that map I found, and he said it's just of a part of Stoneybrook — the part where the cemetery is

now."

"I found a map, too. Remember, Kristy?" said Claud. "And at first I thought that mine showed the same thing yours did. But you know how I am at reading maps and following directions."

Charlotte spoke up in a timid voice. "Does it really matter if the house — and the town — is built on a burial ground? Everybody's still having all these weird experiences."

As usual, Charlotte had gotten to the heart of the matter. She may be a kid, but she's sharp.

"You're right," said Kristy. "It doesn't matter at all. There are too many other strange things going on. That's why it's time to find

Mr. Ronald Hennessey and pay him a visit. Any volunteers?" She raised her own hand.

We all looked at each other. Slowly, Charlotte put up her hand, so I did, too. I had to stick with her. After all, I was her baby-sitter. Then Claud's hand crept up, too.

"That's enough," said Kristy. "We don't want to overwhelm him. He might be sick or something."

Dawn, Mary Anne, and Mallory all looked relieved. Charlotte, Kristy, and Claud looked terrified, and I'm sure I did, too.

Chapter 12.

It was Tuesday night, after our emergency club meeting, and Mallory and Dawn were sitting at the Pikes'. I really do like being an only child, but sometimes when I hear about an evening at the Pikes' I get a little jealous. It must be fun to have a built-in gang of friends around all the time. The Pikes are: Byron, Adam, and Jordan, the triplets, who are ten; nine-year-old Vanessa; eight-year-old Nicky; seven-year-old Margo; five-year-old Claire. And, of course, Mal, Dawn's co-baby-sitter.

Dawn arrived at six-twenty, just as Mr. and Mrs. Pike were about to leave. She'd known when she accepted the job that she and Mal would have to give the kids dinner, but she'd forgotten what dinner hour at the Pike house can be like.

Mr. and Mrs. Pike are very smart about raising a big family. They know that some things just aren't worth making a fuss about, not with eight kids to deal with. For example, mealtimes. Since some kids will eat anything while others are fussy eaters, and some will eat a ton while others just pick, the Pikes have decided not to try to make many rules about what the kids do and don't have to eat. Especially when they have a sitter. When Mal is in charge, she usually just opens up the fridge

and stands back. The kids rummage around, and each one finds whatever they want to eat. They call it a "smorgasbord."

That's exactly what happened on Tuesday night. Dawn did her best to help out, but she had a hard time dealing with some of the choices the kids made. Remember, Dawn is a true health-food fanatic. So how do you think she felt when Bryon pulled out the bologna and a jar of grape jelly and began to make a sandwich?

"Are you sure that's what you want, Byron?" she asked faintly.

"Sure! It's my favorite," he said, carefully spreading the right amount of jelly on the bread.

When he'd finished, Dawn looked around. There was Nicky, holding a jar of peanut butter.

"Okay, Nicky. Peanut butter and jelly, right?" Dawn asked. She was relieved. This was a little more normal. But "normal" was not what Nicky had in mind.

"Nope. Peanut butter and bologna," he said. Dawn made a face, but she also made the sandwich. If that's what he wanted . . .

Adam and Jordan both wanted SpaghettiOs, but they refused to let Mal heat them up. They wanted to eat them right out of the can. She

convinced them to at least put their servings on plates.

Margo just wanted bread and butter for dinner. She's in a picky phase, and there are very few foods she'll eat.

Dawn asked Vanessa what she was having.

"A fried egg will do the trick. Butter the pan, so it won't stick," said Vanessa.

Mal groaned. Was Vanessa, who longed to be a poet, going to drive them crazy by speaking in rhyme all night?

While Dawn fried the egg, Mal helped Claire get her dinner. She wanted cereal, but it had to be in a certain bowl (the one with Big Bird on it) with a certain spoon (the one with the red handle). The milk had to be poured precisely so that it came right up to the border painted inside the bowl, and no further. Finally the bowl of cereal was just right, and Claire carried it to the table.