Ann Martin - Kristy And The Haunted Mansion

Then Buddy, who had finished his food quickly, spoke up. "Hey, what's that?" He was pointing at a row of bells, mounted on a wooden plank, next to the kitchen door.

I stood up to look at them more closely. Next to each one was a label, with faded, old-fashioned writing on it. "Morning room. Library. Blue room. Parlor," I read out.

"They must be signals," said Charlie. "For the servants. Like, if the morning room bell rang, they'd know they were wanted in there."

"Awesome," said Joey and Jerry, at the same time.

"So, like, if I was in the library playing pool, and I wanted a peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich," said Jackie, "I'd just ring my little bell and somebody would bring me the sandwich?"

"Something like that," said Charlie. He was smiling. "This really is a pretty amazing old house." He popped one last bite of bread into his mouth. "Well, at least there aren't any dishes to wash!" he said. "How about if we start exploring?" He picked up a flashlight and handed it to me, and then took the lantern, too. "It's not dark yet," he said, "but it will be soon. We may need these."

"Everybody ready?" I asked. "Let's go." I led the way, back through the dining room and out into the front hall. There was a beautiful, sweeping staircase leading upstairs. "Let's not go up there yet," I said. "Let's check out the whole downstairs, first."

"We've already seen the living room and the dining room and the library," said Bart. "What else is there?"

"The other rooms listed by those bells. Like the parlor," I said. "Most old houses had a special room where people entertained company. I'll bet it's this way." I went through a door to the right of the staircase. "See?" I said proudly. We had come into a large, very formal room. Straight-backed sofas with shiny green upholstery sat squarely across from each other. Fancy lace doilies covered their backs and arms. At the windows were heavy, rich-looking draperies. A piano stood in a corner, with a gorgeous paisley shawl laid over it. A

framed needlepointed picture hung above the piano. Behind one sofa was a large, low table with a beautiful silver tea set on it. And along the wall was a glass-fronted cabinet full of knick-knacks, such as ivory fans and porcelain figures. Karen and Patty were drawn to it, and immediately sat down in front of it to look over its contents.

Meanwhile, Jackie and Buddy had run to the piano. Jackie started to pound out "Chopsticks," and Buddy joined in on the higher keys.

"Hey, hey, you guys," said Bart. "That's no way to treat somebody else's piano."

"But it's the only song I know," said Jackie. "Shea taught it to me. He can play lots of stuff." Shea is Jackie's older brother. He's nine, and he's been taking piano lessons for quite awhile.

"I know how to play," said Joey shyly. "Can I try it?"

"As long as you don't bang on it, I guess it’s all right," said Bart.

Joey sat down and began to play a lovely, lilting song.

"That's beautiful," I said, when he'd finished. "What's it called?"

" 'Moonlight Sonata,' " Joey said. "I played it for a recital last year."

"How did you learn to do that?" asked

Karen, who was now standing at Joey's elbow. "That was the prettiest music I ever heard."

Joey laughed. "Thanks," he said. "I learned to do it by practicing a lot, every day."

"When we get back, I might ask Daddy if I can take piano lessons," said Karen.

"Great idea," I said, noticing with relief that she'd said "when," not "if." I smiled at her. Then, suddenly I heard a crash. I whirled around.

Chris, David Michael, and Jerry had been playing with the draperies, trying to figure out how they opened and closed. It had seemed like a safe enough game, so I'd let them go ahead. But, when my back was turned, Jackie had joined them. Jackie, the Walking Disaster? Jackie has a knack for breaking things — vases, lamps, his own limbs. This time, he'd managed to pull one of the drapes down so that it now covered him entirely. He was trying desperately to get out from under it, which made a pretty funny sight. The pile of material was bulging in different spots as he moved against it. He looked like a giant amoeba. Soon, we were all laughing. Even Jackie, who was still trying to find his way out from under the heavy cloth.

Finally, Charlie helped him. "I hope this teaches you to be careful in this house," said Charlie. Suddenly he sounded serious. "Some

of the things in here must be very valuable. let’s try to leave the house just as we found it, okay?" He looked around at the kids, and then his gaze returned to Jackie.

Jackie nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to — "

"I know," said Charlie, patting Jackie on the shoulder. "It's okay. Hey, Bart, can you help me put this back up?"

I decided it was time to leave the parlor. There were a lot of nice, expensive-looking things in that room. "We'll go on upstairs while you guys do that," I said to Bart and Charlie. "Come on up when you're done." I herded the kids out of the parlor and back into the main hall. Then we started up the wide staircase.

I was a little nervous about exploring a new part of the house, so I was glad it was still light enough to see without using a flashlight. When we reached the top of the stairs we saw a long hallway with several closed doors. "Those must be bedrooms," I said. I tried the first door I came to, and it swung open.

"Wow," said Karen, squeezing into the doorway next to me. "Fancy."

It was fancy. There was a big bed with a canopy, a huge chest of drawers, and a fireplace. We crowded into the room. The bedspread was blue, and so was the wallpaper.

"Maybe this is the blue room," I said, thinking again of the bells in the kitchen.

"What's that door?" asked Chris. He walked to a door near the chest of drawers and opened it. "Oh, it's the bathroom," he said. "Come and look at this, you guys!"

We saw a huge old bathtub on feet that looked like big claws. The taps were gold and the spout was shaped like a flower. The bathroom also had a double sink with a mirror over it, and an old-fashioned toilet with a pull-chain to flush with. Another door led out of the bathroom. I opened it, and we found ourselves in a feminine-looking bedroom with pink and white wallpaper. A portrait of a young girl hung over the bed. She was pretty, with dark hair and a sad, sweet smile. A brass nameplate below the painting said Dorothy.

"I like her," said Karen, gazing at the portrait.

"This room is boring," said Jackie. He led the way back into the hall and then into a third bedroom. This one had probably belonged to a man. The furnishings were dark and heavy, and the bed, covered with a brown spread, stood solidly along one wall. This room also had a fireplace, and over it hung another portrait. This one was of a man, dressed in a tailcoat and looking very stiff. Jackie stepped closer to it and peered at the

brass nameplate under the painting.

Just then, Bart and Charlie joined us. "Who's that guy?" Bart asked.

Jackie gulped. "It says his name is Owen Sawyer," he said in a whisper. He sounded frightened for some reason.

"That makes sense," said Charlie. "I think the name of the road we were on is Sawyer Road."

"Really?" asked Jackie. "Then this must be the Sawyer house!"

"So?" asked Buddy. "What does that mean?"

"It means — " said Jackie, "it means that this house is haunted!"

I heard several kids gasp. "What are you talking about, Jackie?" I asked.

"Shea told me all about it," said Jackie. "I thought it was one of his ghost stories, but maybe it's for real! People have seen all kinds of weird stuff happening here. Lights going on and off in the middle of the night, doors that were locked hanging open, smoke coming from the chimney ..."

Karen leaned forward. She loves ghost stories. "What else?" she asked.