Ann Martin - Kristy And The Haunted Mansion

Nobody got much rest. They spread sleeping bags on Claud's floor and lay down, but they were too tense to sleep. They talked as

they waited for the phone to ring. No calls came, though, so they just kept on talking. Finally, though, the room was quiet for awhile. And during that silence, Dawn noticed something. The thunder wasn't booming anymore, and the rain wasn't pounding on the roof. She checked Claud's clock. It was two-thirty A.M. The storm had finally stopped.

When morning came, the sun was shining brightly. "I feel better already," said Dawn, stretching. "I bet we'll hear from Kristy any minute, now that the storm is over."

But the phone didn't ring.

Finally, Mary Anne had had enough waiting. "I'm going to call Kristy's house," she said. And she did, but there was no news. The Krashers and I were still stranded. Mary Anne hung up, looking upset. Then she took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I know," she said. "Let’s all write something in the club notebook, so that when Kristy comes back she'll know how much we missed her." Mary Anne pulled out the notebook and passed it around. This is what everyone wrote:

Chapter 12.

"Kristy, wake up! Wake up! It's sunny outside. The storm is over!" Karen was tugging on my right arm, which was hanging off the side of the chair I'd fallen asleep in.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I said, yawning and stretching. I opened my eyes and looked out the big window. Karen was right. The sky was bright blue, with puffy white clouds. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Not a storm cloud in the sky. "All right," I said. Not only had we made it through the night, but now it looked as if we might be able to make our way home soon.

"Guess what?" asked Jackie, tugging on my other arm. "The electricity came back on."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yup," he said proudly. "I went around and turned on all the lights, just to see."

"Jackie," I said, "thanks for checking that out. But I think we're wasting power if we

leave the lights on, now that it's bright and sunny outside." I smiled at him. "Think you could go back and turn them off?"

"Sure," he replied. "Joey and Chris will help me."

I realized that just about everyone but me had been awake for awhile. I looked around to see if Bart was up, and noticed that the chair he'd been sleeping in was empty. I had been hoping I'd be up before he was, so I could at least scrub my face and try to comb the biggest tangles out of my hair before he laid eyes on me. I don't usually pay lots of attention to my looks, but Charlie and Sam have made sure to let me know that I'm no beauty queen first thing in the morning. I didn't want to scare Bart off.

I stood up and stretched. My body felt stiff and full of kinks, which I decided was normal for someone who has slept in a chair. I tiptoed to the hall, checked one way and then the other, and made a dash for the bathroom, hoping I wouldn't run into Bart on the way. But when I reached the bathroom door, it was dosed. Somebody had beat me to it. I waited outside the door, still watching for Bart. Finally, the door swung open, and guess who walked out? Bart himself.

"Morning, Kristy," he said with a smile.

"G morning," I mumbled. I rushed into the

bathroom and dosed the door behind me. Then I checked myself in the mirror. I didn't look bad after all, except for the fact that I was now blushing bright red. I felt silly. I could have been nicer to Bart; at least I could have smiled back at him.

Once I'd scrubbed my face, I headed for the kitchen. I figured everyone would be gathered there, looking for food. We didn't have much left over, but I for one was so hungry that a slice of apple and a piece of stale bread sounded delicious. "Morning, everybody," I said as I entered the room. Just as I'd guessed, all eight kids, plus Bart and Charlie, were seated around the table. Bart was passing out food.

"Hi, Kristy!" said David Michael. "Look what I got!" He held up a crumpled leather object.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's a batting glove," he said. "I traded Joey for it."

"What did you get, Joey?" I turned to look at him. Sometimes these "trading sessions" spell disaster. Kids trade away expensive things for junk, and then their parents get mad.

"These cool wristbands!" Joey said, holding up a grubby pair of terry-cloth wristbands decorated with the Mets logo.

"Great trade," I said, relieved. At least David Michael hadn't given away his best pair of sneakers or something. "So," I said, taking a slice of apple and turning to Bart and Charlie. "What's the plan this morning?"

"Well, since the electricity's on, we're hoping we might be able to find a phone that works," said Charlie. "And when I went outside a little while ago, I heard machinery — so I think they've already started to fix the bridges."

I stepped to the window and looked out. There was the van, and there was the caretaker's cottage — and there was the caretaker, himself. He was striding up the driveway toward the big house. "Charlie!" I hissed. "The caretaker's about to knock at the front door!"

Charlie stood up and peered over my shoulder, but the caretaker was already out of sight. Then I heard a knock, just as I'd predicted. Charlie headed for the door, and I was right behind him.

Charlie pulled the big door open. There, on the front step, was the old man. Somehow, in the morning light, he didn't look scary at all. In fact, I had the sudden thought that he looked kind of sad.

"Are the bridges repaired yet?" asked Charlie, without even saying good morning.

"They're working on them," said the care-

taker with a smile. "You'll be out of here in no time."

"Good morning," I said, trying to make up for Charlie's lack of manners. But I had an urgent question of my own, so I didn't even wait for the man to respond. Instead, I jumped right in. "Are the phones working?"

"Well, they probably are," said the man. "But it doesn't make much difference. You won't be able to get to a phone until the bridges are fixed."

"Oh, right," I said glumly. "I forgot about that."

"Did you all sleep well?" asked the man, giving Charlie a curious look. I suddenly remembered his strange words as we'd left the cottage the night before. Had they been some kind of warning? Did he know about the Sawyer Road ghost? Had we been in some kind of danger? I looked at the man suspiciously, but Charlie seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary.

"Oh, sure," he said. "We slept fine. We really appreciate your help."

"It was nothing," said the man. "Now, can I help you pack up? You'll probably be able to drive that van out of here fairly soon." Once again, I felt suspicious. Was he trying to get us out of there for some reason? "Please, come on in," said Charlie. "Kristy,

nn

why don't you organize the kids, and I'll round up the blankets and flashlights and things?"

We went into the kitchen. I rounded up the kids and suggested that they gather up their stuff so we could leave as soon as the bridges were fixed. They ran into the living room, and Charlie and I followed them. Bart stayed in the kitchen with the old man.

The living room was full of activity for awhile, as Charlie picked up the blankets and grabbed a team of kids to help him fold them. The other kids were running around scooping up socks and shoes and making sure that they hadn't forgotten anything. Then, I felt someone tugging on my sweat shirt. It was Buddy.

"Kristy?" he said. "You know that man who came in?"

"Uh-huh," I said. "That's the caretaker."

"Well," said Buddy. "I finally figured out who Will Blackburn looks like. You know, Dorothy's fiancé.”

"Hmm?" I said. I was distracted by Karen, who was wailing that she couldn't find her charm bracelet.

"He looks like that man. Like the caretaker," said Buddy.