Classic Goosebumps #15: Ghost Beach by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine [Stine, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-545-29466-9
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 1994-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

17

I woke up the next morning to the sound of rain. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The rain swirled in a gusting wind. In the garden, narrow rivulets of water had formed between the vegetable rows and trickled off into the yard. A thick fog had settled on the trees.

“Do you believe this weather?” Terri asked, coming into my room.

I spun away from the window. “Terri — listen. I have something to tell you.” I told her about my late-night talk with the three Sadlers.

When I finished, Terri stared out the window. “So what do we do now? How can we meet them on the beach if it’s raining this hard?”

“We can’t,” I said. “We have to wait till it stops.”

“I hate suspense!” Terri moaned. She hurried back to her room to get dressed.

I pulled on my old faded jeans, torn at both knees, and a gray sweatshirt, and hurried to join everyone for breakfast. Agatha cooked us oatmeal with big lumps of brown sugar and butter on top.

After breakfast Brad built a big cozy fire and Terri worked on her wildflower collection on the floor in front of the fireplace.

While Terri glued dried flower samples onto sheets of cardboard, I sat around and waited for the rain to stop. Stupid rain.

The sun didn’t come out until after lunch. As soon as we could get away, Terri and I hurried to the beach.

We waited there for nearly an hour. I practiced skipping stones, and Terri scrounged around for shells. No sign of Sam, Nat, and Louisa.

“Now what?” I asked, kicking at a small rock. The whole day had been a big waste.

“I brought my gravestone-rubbing stuff,” Terri replied. “Let’s go over to the cemetery.”

We made our way to the small graveyard, climbed over the old stone wall, and took a good look around. The graves were so old. Many of the gravestones had been knocked over, or broken, or covered with weeds.

The forest had started taking over. A couple of big trees had sprouted on top of the graves, and one giant tree had crashed across the wall, knocking over several tombstones.

“I’m going to look for something interesting by that big fallen tree,” Terri announced.

Terri ran ahead, and I poked along at my own speed. The last time we were here, we stuck to the edge of the cemetery. Now I made my way into the middle.

I started reading the names on the tombstones. The first one I stopped at read: HERE LIES THE BODY OF MARTIN SADLER.

That’s strange, I thought. Another Sadler. I remembered that Sam had told us Sadler was a common name around here. Maybe this was the Sadler family section or something.

The gravestone next to Martin Sadler belonged to Mary Sadler, his wife. Then a couple of Sadler kids, Sarah and Miles.

I moved to the next row and continued reading the inscriptions. Another Sadler. This one was named Peter. Beside Peter lay Miriam Sadler.

Whoa! I thought, starting to get the creeps. Didn’t anyone else ever die around here?

I moved to another section.

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