The Ghost of Graylock by Dan Poblocki

Author:Dan Poblocki
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780545469548
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2012-08-01T07:00:00+00:00

“WHAT ABOUT IT?” MRS. REILLY ASKED, but her puckered face told them she knew exactly what they wanted to hear. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Sit down,” she said, as if she’d been dreading this moment for many years. “Quick. Before my son gets back.”

The four grabbed several stools from a nearby card table and arranged them around the old woman’s wheelchair. When they were settled, Neil felt as if they were attending some sort of messed-up story time at his hometown library back in New Jersey.

“You wanted to see Nurse Janet for yourselves?” Mrs. Reilly’s face grew darker, angrier. “Isn’t that how the story goes? Old Janet Reilly. The Monster of Graylock Hall?” She leaned toward Wesley, as close as she could get. Her breath was orange scented — even Neil could smell her from where he sat. “Aren’t you scared of me?” she whispered, a lightning flash in her eye. Anger? Amusement? She was difficult to read.

“Should we be?” asked Eric, crossing his arms, refusing to play her game.

Mrs. Reilly sat back and took him in. After a few seconds, she exhaled, releasing her intensity like steam from a kettle of boiling water. “Of course not,” she said honestly. “I never hurt anyone in my life. So why do you kids insist on turning me into a monster?”

“That’s not what we came to do,” said Bree.

“If you tell us about Graylock,” Neil tried, “we can share the truth with our friends.”

“The truth?” Mrs. Reilly laughed a humorless laugh. “You came here, so you must know the story … though I doubt your version has much to do with the truth.” She shrugged. “Short version: Some patients died while under my watch. The town blamed me.” She paused again. “They said that I was responsible.”

“But you’re not?” Bree whispered.

“That’s the big question, isn’t it?” Mrs. Reilly answered, more softly than any of them expected. “You want the truth?” She coughed, cleared her throat, and then shook her head, which appeared heavy, weary with memory. “The truth is: The patients did it to themselves, honey. Remember, these kids were not well. They had emotional problems. Addictions. Difficult families. These were good kids who needed help. They deserved the best kind of treatment, but what they got was Graylock. And they wanted out.

“We all knew that when the summer storms came through that place,” she continued, looking each of them in the eye in turn, “the island’s power grid usually failed, and the back door of the youth ward would unlatch. I begged my bosses to get it fixed, but considering the condition of the rest of the building, one little broken door didn’t seem to be high on their list of priorities, even after the second time it happened. The investigations. The accusations. The poor patients …” The old woman sighed.

“That’s so horrible,” said Bree, shivering beneath the air-conditioning vent.

“I worked the graveyard shift alone,” Mrs. Reilly went on, “unlucky enough to be in the position where my kids were capable of sneaking out from under my watch.

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