Ann Martin - Kristy And The Haunted Mansion

"Go back," said Bart. "Quick! Go back to the other bridge."

But guess what happened when we got back to the other bridge? It wasn't there. We looked silently at the few posts that still stood. It didn't take long to figure out that we were stuck. I tried not to panic. "Okay," I said. "There's no way off this road right now, so we're just going to have to knock on somebody's door and ask to use the phone." I thought of the washed-out bridges. "We might even have to ask if we can spend the night," I went on.

"At the haunted house?" yelped Jackie.

"What haunted house?" I asked.

"The creepy brick one," he said. "That's the

only house on this whole road."

"I'm sure it's not haunted," I said, even though I thought it looked creepy, too. "Anyway, it's our only choice." Charlie had already turned the van around, and within minutes we were driving up that long, twisty driveway.

"Weren't the lights on before?" asked Bart, as we approached the house. It was completely dark.

"I think so," I said. "Hey, look," I added. "There's a little cottage. Maybe we can ask there instead of at the big house." I felt relieved at the sight of the cottage, which was hidden in a grove of pines. It looked much homier than the brick house, although no lights were on.

"Must be the caretaker's house," said Charlie, unfastening his seatbelt. "Coming, Kristy?" he said. "Let's go see who's home."

I followed Charlie to the door of the cottage, and stood aside while he knocked. I was getting soaked by the rain, which was still pouring down, but I was beginning to feel hopeful that soon we'd all be warm and dry. Maybe the owner of the cottage would even give us some hot tea. Then the door opened.

Chapter 4.

A man stood in the doorway, looking down at us. He was tall and thin and a little stooped, and he had scraggly gray hair. It was still light enough for me to see that his face was gaunt and his gray eyes had no sparkle. The weird thing was that he just stood there looking at us. He didn't say a word.

I didn't say a word, either. I couldn't. I was speechless.

Luckily, Charlie pulled himself together. "Hello, sir," he said. "We were driving on the road down there," he pointed vaguely across the lawn, "and we got stuck when both of the bridges washed out."

Now, if I had been the man answering the door, I probably would have said, "Oh, dear, that's terrible. Why don't you come in and dry off?" But the tall man? He didn't say a word. He just kept looking at us. I felt the hairs at the back of my neck begin to prickle.

"I wonder if we could use your phone?" Charlie asked politely.

"No phone here," said the man. "Nor up at the big house. And even if we did have those confounded contraptions, they wouldn't work anyway. Power's out."

Well! He could talk, after all. He wasn't exactly friendly, but at least he had finally spoken. Then his words sunk in. No phone! We were stuck there — probably for the night — and we wouldn't even be able to call our families. My stomach did a flip-flop. This was not a good situation.

"Is there a phone anywhere around?" asked Charlie. "Maybe we could walk to one."

"Impossible, with the bridges out," said the man shortly.

Charlie glanced at me and grimaced. I knew how he felt. We were in big trouble, and we weren't going to get any help out of this strange old man.

Then he surprised both of us.

"You can stay up at the big house," he said. "I'd have you here, but I see you've got a passel of kids with you, and I don't have the space." He nodded toward the van. I looked over at it and saw eight small faces, plus Barfs, peering out at us.

Maybe the old man wasn't so bad after all. "That's very nice of you, sir," I said. "Does

that house belong to you?" I didn't mean to be nosy, but I was awfully curious about why he was able to offer it to us.

"I'm the caretaker," he explained. "Nobody's lived there for ages. I've been taking care of it for — for more years than you've been alive, I'd say." He peered at me, and just then I heard a roll of thunder and the sky lit up for a second. I saw the man's hard, gray eyes looking into mine, and I felt a chill. I shook it off.

"I'm Kristy Thomas," I said. "And this is my brother Charlie. We're very grateful to you." I figured the only way to conquer my nervousness was to act self-confident, and it did seem to help.

"I'll get you some supplies," the man said. And just like that, he disappeared into the cottage, leaving Charlie and me standing alone on the front step. We looked at each other. Charlie raised his eyebrows, and I raised mine. Then I turned to the van and gave Bart the thumbs-up sign, to let him know things were okay. I also pointed to the big house and then laid my cheek on my folded hands, to let him know we'd be sleeping up there. He looked confused for a second, but then he nodded, and turned to tell the kids.

"Here you go," said the man, startling me by reappearing suddenly. His arms were full

of blankets. "Take these up there. You'll need them if it gets cold tonight. And here are a couple of flashlights and a lantern." He handed an armload to Charlie and disappeared again. Charlie took the sniff to the van, dashing through the rain that still fell heavily, but I stayed by the door. I was ready for the man when he appeared again.

"Don't have much food here," he said, "but I can spare a little." He handed me a large paper bag and I looked inside it. I saw a jug of water, a loaf of bread, and some apples.

"Thank you very much," I said. My stomach rumbled, and I suddenly realized that I was very hungry. I thought about the burger I'd been planning to order at Renwick's with Bart. It would have been hot and juicy and covered with cheese and pickles and ketchup. My mouth watered. I looked at the apples again and swallowed. They'd be better than nothing, at least.

Charlie had come back to the door. He was dripping with rainwater. "I think we're all set," he said. "We certainly appreciate your help," he added.

"One more thing," said the man. He stepped forward and tossed Charlie a set of keys. "You'll need those to get in." Then he ducked back into the cottage doorway and pulled the door shut. Just as the door was

dosing, I heard him say, "I'll see you in the morning . . . God willing."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I whispered to Charlie. We were still standing on the front step, frozen in place.

"Nothing," said Charlie. "I mean, it's just an expression. Something people say." He frowned briefly, and paused. Then he grabbed the food bag out of my hands. "Come on, let's get going," he said, sounding impatient. I followed him back to the van, trying to put the man's words out of my mind.

We climbed into the van, and as Charlie drove to the big house, through the pouring rain, I filled Bart and the kids in on what was happening. I didn't mention how creepy the man seemed, though. No need to scare anyone. Anyway, he had been perfectly nice to us, letting us stay and giving us all those supplies. He just wasn't overly friendly, and there was no reason he should be. Besides, we had other things to worry about.

"My parents are going to be really, really upset when I don't come home," said Jerry. "Can't we call them?"

"I wish we could," I said. "But there's just

no way. We'll get out of here as soon as we

can tomorrow morning, but for now we're

stuck."

I heard some sniffling from the backseat.

The last thing we needed, I thought, was for the kids to get upset and scared. I tried to sound perky. "We'll have fun!" I said. "It'll be like a slumber party."

"But I don't have any pajamas with me!" wailed Karen. "I want my Ariel pajamas!"

"But guess what," said Bart. "We all get to sleep in our clothes tonight. Won't that be cool?"

"Yea!" yelled several of the kids.