Ann Martin - Dawn And The Impossible Three

"Why, thank you," replied Hannie. "I'm just staying for one night this time, Mr. Bill Capstan." (Hannie has never once pronounced "bell captain" properly.) "I'm meeting my husband in Canada tomorrow. We're going to go to a party with the queen. And the emperor."

"How lovely," said Kristy. "Does the emperor have new clothes?"

"Oh, yes. He has a new suit of silver," replied Hannie, not getting the joke.

"Oh," said Kristy. "Well, why don't you sign the registration book and then the bellhop here will help you to your room."

"Okay." Hannie bent over the composition

book, pencil poised. "Kristy," she whispered, "how do you spell 'Noswimple'?"

Kristy spelled it out and Hannie printed the name painstakingly. She straightened up. "Ready, bellhop? I have two trunks and a hatbox, so I need lots of help."

"Ready, Mrs. Noswimple," said Andrew.

Andrew and Hannie left the living room and Karen entered.

"I don't believe it!" cried Kristy. "Mrs. Mysterious! What a surprise! How nice to see you. You haven't stopped by in ages."

"Heh, heh," cackled Karen. "I've been at a Mysterious Meeting in Transylvania. All the witches and warlocks and ghosts and spooks and mysterious people got together."

"Well, you're looking especially mysterious today," said Kristy.

"Thank you," Karen answered politely. "I do look mysterious, don't I." It was a statement, not a question. Karen stepped over to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out on the Brewers' front lawn. "This is a mirror," she told Kristy. "I'll just — "

Karen stopped midsentence. She shrieked.

So did Kristy.

Andrew and Hannie ran into the living room to see what was happening. Andrew gasped and hid behind an armchair. Hannie opened

her eyes and mouth wide, but couldn't make a sound.

Kristy told me later that she was so surprised she thought she was going to faint.

What everyone had seen when Karen stepped in front of her "mirror" was another scary, black-clad figure. Only it wasn't Karen's reflection. It was someone outside the window — Mrs. Porter from next door.

The thing about Mrs. Porter is that Karen is convinced she's a witch whose real name is Morbidda Destiny. Karen's got everyone — Andrew, Hannie, Kristy, and all us baby-sitters (especially Mary Anne) thinking she's a witch, too. So it was no wonder everyone panicked.

Mrs. Porter gestured toward the front door with a wave of her cape.

"Yipes," said Kristy, heart pounding. "I wonder what she wants."

"Probably frogs' noses or the hair from a mole or something. I bet she's cooking," Karen offered.

"Don't be silly," said Kristy.

With legs that felt as heavy as lead, Kristy opened the front door — just a crack.

Mrs. Porter was standing on the front steps. She was leaning over so that her nose poked into Kristy's face.

Kristy jumped back.

"I rang your bell," Mrs. Porter said in a croaky voice, "but you didn't answer."

"Sometimes it doesn't work," Karen spoke up timidly from where she was hiding behind Kristy.

"Can-can I help you?" Kristy asked. The last time Mrs. Porter had come to the door, it was to dump poor fat old Boo-Boo, the Brewers' cat, inside after he had left the remains of a mouse on Mrs. Porter's front porch.

"I'm cooking. I need to borrow something."

Kristy noticed that Mrs. Porter had a little scar near the corner of her mouth that jumped around when she spoke.

Karen nudged Kristy's back. "I told you so," she whispered. "Morbidda Destiny is cooking."

Kristy nudged Karen back. "What do you need, Mrs. Porter?"

"Fennel and coriander."

"Aughh!" screamed Karen.

"Aughh!" screamed Andrew and Hannie, who were watching from the safety of the living room.

"Shh," said Kristy. "They're just herbs, you guys." She turned back to Mrs. Porter. "I'm really sorry, but I'm sure Mr. Brewer doesn't have those things. He's not much of a cook."

"Well, it never hurts to ask." Mrs. Porter

turned abruptly and dashed down the front steps and across the lawn toward her house. Her black cape and dress flapped in the breeze.

Karen, Andrew, and Hannie found the courage to run to the front door and watch her leave. Kristy watched with them. They saw her pause at her herb garden and examine the new green shoots. They saw her flap up the steps to her own front porch. And they all saw her take up a broom and carry it into the house, talking to it.

Kristy closed the door before the kids could panic again. As she did so, something occurred to her. "Karen," she said, "where's Boo-Boo?"

"Well," replied Karen, "I'm not sure. But he's probably upstairs. I'll show you where." Karen ran upstairs, the others at her heels.

She ran down the long hallway past the playroom, past her room, past Andrew's room, and past two guest rooms to a room at the end of the hall.

Kristy looked inside. Curled up at the foot of the bed was Boo-Boo, the world's fattest cat.

"Oh, good," said Kristy with a sigh. "I was afraid he might be out in Mrs. Porter's garden again."

"Nope," said Karen. "He's scared of her

now. He stays inside all day. Mostly he stays right here. And he never goes up to the third floor anymore. You know why?"

"Why? I'm afraid to ask."

"Because the attic is haunted."

"Karen ..." Kristy warned.

"It is?" said Hannie in amazement.

Karen nodded solemnly. "Animals know those things. Our attic is haunted. It's haunted by the ghost of old Ben Brewer, Daddy's greatgrandfather, who — "

Kristy cut Karen off. Karen's imagination frequently ran away, and when it did, it took Andrew and Hannie along with it. "Come on, you guys. Let's go back to 'Let's All Come In.' "

So the kids returned to the living room and took up the game again. They were still playing when Mr. Brewer came home.

Kristy sighed as she left. She'd had fun. But she was pretty sure she hadn't heard the last about old Ben Brewer.

Chapter 7.

I had to do something about Kristy. I was trying my hardest to be nice to her, but things were no better between us. So one day at school, out of the clear blue, I said to her, "Want to come over to my house this afternoon?" I didn't even know I was going to say it. It just slipped out. I was as surprised as Kristy was.

And we were both pretty surprised when she replied, "Okay. Sure."

What had I gotten myself into? What would Kristy and I do? Every time we talked, it turned into an argument. Well, I thought, we could always watch a movie on the VCR. I hadn't seen The Sound of Music in a while.

After school that day, I met Kristy and we walked to my house together. Mary Anne didn't walk with us. She was baby-sitting for Charlotte Johanssen, and the Johanssens live in the opposite direction from me. That was

just as well, since Mary Anne is sort of the cause of our problems. Kristy and I needed some time alone together.

At first we walked along in silence. Kristy stared at the ground. She didn't look mad, but I felt uncomfortable being silent with her.

"We live in an old farmhouse," I told her, just to make conversation. "It was built in seventeen-ninety-five."

"Oh, yeah?" said Kristy.

Was she interested, or did she think I was bragging?

"Yeah," I replied uncertainly.

"Do you like it?"

"Mostly. It's neat living in a place that old. But the rooms are kind of small and the doorways are low. The first time Mary Anne came over, she said the colonists must have been midgets."

Kristy burst out laughing. Then she caught herself and scowled. She pressed her lips into two straight lines. Thin lips are never a good sign.

I cringed. How could I have mentioned Mary Anne? I really hadn't meant to.

I went on about the house some more. "When the house was first built," I said, "there was nothing but farmland for miles around it. But Stoneybrook kept growing, and the people