The Haunting by Joan Lowery Nixon

Author:Joan Lowery Nixon [Nixon, Joan Lowery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-43391-6
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2012-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

We all turned to stare at Jonathan, who didn’t seem to mind a bit. He even took a step forward. “I hope you understand I was just a kid when it happened,” he said. “I was ten—almost eleven—and some of the guys started daring each other about who was brave enough to spend a night in the haunted house … uh, Graymoss, that is. And, well, you know how kids are.”

Jonathan didn’t begin his story by talking to all of us, as most people would. He directed what he said to Mom, as if she were the only one who needed to be convinced. For a few seconds I sort of wondered why, but I soon forgot everything else but Jonathan’s story.

“Some of the guys came with me, but only as far as the gate. It was locked, so I climbed over and walked up the road to the house. Twice, strands of moss hung so low from the oak branches that they swept across my face, and I jumped and yelped.

“Luckily I had a flashlight, because it was awfully dark, with the moon mostly behind the clouds. The flashlight kept me from catching a foot in some of the nits in the road.”

Jonathan paused and grinned, ducking his head. “I was glad I had that light in any case, because I was really scared. I mean, there’d been a lot of talk about strange stuff going on around the house at night, and my friends weren’t any help. They had a lot of fun scaring me before I left them to start up the road. As I came close to the house it loomed up like a monster. I stood just outside the veranda and almost stopped breathing as I stared into the windows for a long time. I just listened and waited.”

Jonathan stopped talking for a moment, and I couldn’t stand it. “What did you see in the house? Were there lights? Faces? What?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lia,” Mom said firmly. “I think we’ve heard enough of the story for now.”

“Please let him finish,” Mrs. Lord said. “Go ahead, Jonathan.”

“Sure,” Jonathan said, and glanced quickly at his grandmother. “It’s just that when I think about it … well, sometimes I …” He looked back at Mom, took a deep breath, and continued. “I walked up on the veranda, slow and careful. I didn’t want to make any more noise than I had to.

“I tried the front door, but it was locked. I knew it would be. So then I walked around to the back of the house and tried the kitchen door. It was locked, too. There were dark shapes around me that I couldn’t figure out. I was really scared.”

He cleared his throat. “I almost gave up and went home right then, but I saw that a window next to the kitchen door was open about an inch. I tried it and noticed that the lock was broken. I pushed it open and climbed through.

“I used my flashlight to make my way through the kitchen into some of the other rooms.

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