The Dead Lifeguard by R.L. STINE

Author:R.L. STINE
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: An Archway Paperback
Published: 2003-07-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

LINDSAY

I realized I must have dialed wrong. So I hung up and then punched the number in again, carefully pushing each number.

Two rings» Three. Then the same taped message: “We’re sorry, but the number you have called is no longer in service.”

I listened to the tape repeat three times before I hung up. Then I slumped over on the edge of the bed, just staring at the phone, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong.

My parents’ number had to be in service. No way their phone would be turned off. No way.

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

What was wrong?

“Hey!” I cried out as a thought struck me.

The storm. A brief thunderstorm had roared through yesterday afternoon. It lasted only an hour. But it could have messed up the phone lines. That happened a lot. And that explained why I couldn’t get through to my parents.

Feeling a little better, I picked up the phone again and called the operator. “I’m having trouble getting through to my house,” I told her, “Could you dial it for me?”

“What is the number, please?” Her voice sounded tinny and far away. There was a lot of static on the line.

I told her the number. I could hear clicks as she dialed it for me.

It rang twice. Then the same taped message came on.

I could feel the panic tightening my throat. This was so weird.

Was I calling the wrong number? Had I forgotten my own phone number?

I hung up and dialed long distance information. My throat suddenly felt dry. My hand was shaking a little.

“Information for what city?” asked a male operator.

“For Shadyside,” I told him. “Could you tell me the number of Mr. and Mrs. Austin Beck on Fear Street?”

There was a long pause.

Please find it. Please find it! I silently urged.

It shouldn’t be this hard to call home, I told myself gripped with cold fear. I’ve never had any problem before.

What is happening here? What?

Suddenly the operator’s voice came back on the line. “Could you spell that name, please?”

“B-e-c-k,” I said, practically shouting the letters. “Beck. On Fear Street.”

He disappeared again. Another long silence.

I pressed the receiver hard against my ear, listening to the low, crackling sound.

Finally he came back on once again. “I’m sorry, miss,” he said. “There’s no listing in Shadyside for anyone named Beck.”

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