The Ghost Witch Read online

  It was true. The rings of the lamp were shifting, swelling, twisting. Jenny knew what they looked like, but she was too terrified to say the word. She felt Chris clutch her arm. Then the rings twisted hard, and the huge flat head of a snake shot out from under the lampshade.

  “Jenneeeee!” Chris leaped backward, pulling Jenny with her. Both girls crashed into the doorframe and then into each other. As Jenny struggled to her feet, the snake darted toward her again, its long tongue flicking. The girls raced down the hall to the kitchen, stumbling over Rufus as they flew out the back door and ran to their bikes.

  “We’re going over there together,” Mrs. Warren said. “Right now.”

  “No,” Jenny said, “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” her mother said firmly. “I know something frightened you, but it certainly wasn’t a snake wrapped around a lamp. That’s just foolish, dear. The living room was probably too dark for you to see anything clearly.”

  “It wasn’t that dark,” Jenny said. She felt worse every minute as she followed her mother downstairs and out to the car. Neither of them spoke as they drove across town and parked in Willowby Lane.

  The back-porch door stood open and both doors were unlocked, just as the girls had left them. Mrs. Warren looked at Jenny sharply, but she didn’t scold. Rufus was perched on the counter close to the door. He jumped to the floor and followed Mrs. Warren as she took his dish out to the porch to fill it.

  “I’m not going in,” Jenny said. She waited on the porch, hardly daring to breathe, while her mother went down the hall to the living room.

  After a moment, Mrs. Warren returned. She was carrying the lamp in her arms. “Look at this, Jenny.” She set it on the kitchen table and stood back so Jenny could see it from the porch. The overhead light shone on the varnished wood rings that made up the lamp’s base.

  “I know it isn’t beautiful,” Mrs. Warren said, “but it isn’t a snake either. Just a pile of wood rings, see? I’m sure you must have dusted it when we were cleaning, Jenny. Where in the world did you get that weird idea about the snake?”

  “Chris saw it, too,” Jenny said. She felt like crying.

  “I’m beginning to think Chris is the one whose imagination is working overtime,” said Mrs. Warren. “First it’s doors that slam shut by themselves. Now it’s a snake in the living room.” She smiled and gave Jenny a big hug. “Maybe Chris is going to write ghost stories when she grows up.”

  Jenny wouldn’t smile back. Her mother didn’t know about the dragon in the dining-room mirror. And she hadn’t heard what Chris said when they parted an hour ago.

  “Don’t ever ask me to go into that house again, Jenny,” she’d said in a quivering voice. “Because I’m not going to do it. Even if it means we aren’t best friends anymore.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Chicken Jenny

  The roof of the apartment house was Jenny’s favorite thinking-place, especially on cool October evenings. From up there she could see treetops and church steeples all across town. If she looked hard enough, she could even find the tip of Miss Nagle’s chimney.

  Not that I want to, Jenny thought unhappily. Three days had passed since she and Chris had seen the snake. Before that, she’d been planning where she’d put her things in the big front bedroom, and had wondered whether Rufus would curl up on her bed at night. Now she couldn’t bear to think about the house on Willowby Lane.

  “Forget about the snake,” her mother kept saying. “Your eyes were playing tricks on you, dear. Once we move in, you’ll love being there.”

  But Jenny couldn’t forget. With a sigh, she leaned back against the shed that covered the top of the stairwell. She gazed up at the stars. Some nights they twinkled at her in a friendly way, but tonight the huge sweep of sky just made her feel lonely.

  Crrrreeak. She sat up straight and looked around. The door on the other side of the shed creaked like that. No one comes up here, but me, she reminded herself. It couldn’t have been the door. She held her breath and waited.

  “GOTCHA!”

  Jenny screamed as a figure draped in white swooped around the corner and flapped up and down in front of her. For a moment she was too startled to move. Then she saw shiny brown cowboy boots below the white sheet. She had seen those boots before.

  She jumped up and gave the sheet a tug. “Get out of here, Bobby!” she shouted. “You are so dumb!”

  “Boy, were you scared!” Bobby Strauss pointed his finger at Jenny. “That was really funny!”

  “It wasn’t funny at all,” Jenny stormed. “You’d have been scared, too, if someone sneaked up behind you like that.”

  But Bobby wasn’t listening. “Chicken Jenny,” he snickered. “You’re even afraid to move into your new house because you think it’s haunted.”

  Jenny stared at him. “Who told you that?” she demanded.

  “I heard your mom telling my mom.” Bobby pulled the sheet over his head again and danced around the roof in front of her. “Chicken, chicken, chicken!” he howled.

  Jenny clenched her fists, but there wasn’t a thing she could do except leave. All the way downstairs, she could hear Bobby shouting up on the roof and laughing to himself.

  “Everybody else heard him, too,” she told Chris at school the next morning. “Now all the people on our block think I’m a scaredy-cat.”

  “Well, you’re not,” Chris said firmly. “Anyway, who wouldn’t be afraid if they had to live in Miss Nagle’s house?”

  Jenny groaned. Her friend wasn’t making her feel any better.

  “I bet it’s Miss Nagle’s ghost who’s haunting her house,” Chris went on, peering over her shoulder nervously. “I told my cousin about the snake we saw, and she said that proves Miss Nagle was a witch. Just think, Jenny—the ghost of a witch! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  It was the worst thing Jenny had ever heard of, too. She thought about it all the rest of the day. She thought about it so much that she failed her math test.

  When she got home that afternoon, her mother was piling empty boxes in the back of the car. “We’re going to start cleaning out Miss Nagle’s closets,” she said. “I’m sure she’d want us to give her dresses and coats to people who need them.”

  Jenny flinched. “I don’t want to go,” she said. “Besides, nobody’s going to want a witch’s clothes.”

  “A what?” Mrs. Warren looked shocked. “What did you say?”

  Jenny had never seen her mother so angry. “Chris’s cousin says Miss Nagle was a witch,” she explained unhappily. “So now she’s a ghost witch. And she’s haunting that house!”

  Her mother didn’t answer for a moment or two. Then she bent down to look Jenny straight in the eye.

  “Miss Nagle may have been a little odd,” she said slowly. “She didn’t mix much with other people, but she was a kind and generous person. No one has more reason to know that than we do, Jenny. Besides, there is no such thing as a witch, or the ghost of a witch. Now run upstairs and change into your jeans. I mean it! I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  Jenny ran. Tears filled her eyes, making everything so blurry that when she got upstairs she almost stepped on the long green snake coiled in front of her door.

  “Ooohh!” She leaped backward. The snake didn’t move, and after a moment she saw why. It was a fake! She looked down the hall just in time to see Bobby Strauss and his friend Jason Foley peek around a corner.

  “Gotcha again!” Bobby bellowed. “Chicken Jenny, scared of ghosts and scared of snakes!”

  Jenny kicked the plastic snake down the hall. She rushed inside the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

  Awful boys! Awful everything! Bobby Strauss was a mean tease. She’d failed her math test. Her mother was disgusted with her. And now she was going to have to get in the car and drive to the last place in the world she wanted to go.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rufus Takes Charge

  “Just look at this nice big closet,” Mrs. Warren said,
clearly trying to make Jenny feel better. “Think of all the room you’ll have for your clothes and your games.”

  Jenny stared into the dark closet and thought of just one thing. A snake could be in there.

  “Put Miss Nagle’s clothes on the bed,” Jenny’s mother went on. “Dresses in one pile, blouses in another, skirts in another. When you get everything sorted, we’ll pack some boxes and ask Mr. Barkin where to take them. He knows who needs what in this town.” She gave Jenny a hug. “Don’t look as if it’s the end of the world, hon. I’ll be working in the basement. If you want me, just call.”

  Jenny followed her mother out into the hall. “I’ll go down with you and help,” she said. “And then we can come back up here and clean out the closet together. Please!”

  Mrs. Warren looked grim. “You’re not a baby, Jenny,” she said. “Everyone has to be alone sometimes, for goodness’ sake. Besides,” she added encouragingly, “you’ll have Rufus to keep you company.” She scratched the cat’s head and hurried downstairs, humming a little as she went.

  As if everything is just great! Jenny thought bitterly. She felt angry for a moment, then ashamed. For months her mother had been sad, missing Jenny’s father. Now she was actually singing to herself. That was wonderful—only why did it have to be Miss Nagle’s house that made her happy?

  The closet smelled musty. Jenny pulled an armful of clothes from their hangers.

  “I don’t want to clean out this closet,” she whispered to Rufus, dropping the clothes on the bed. “I don’t want to be here!”

  She picked up the cat and sat in the window seat. Outside, the topmost branches of a maple tree moved in the wind. Sitting in the window seat was like sitting in a tree house.

  “What am I going to do, Rufus?” she whispered. “I’m so mixed up.…”

  Rufus snuggled into her arms, and for a minute Jenny felt better. Then the cat sat up. He stared at the door to the hallway, his eyes as big and round as quarters. He’d heard something.

  Jenny put him on the floor and stood up. Now she heard it, too—a scraping noise, as if something very heavy were being dragged along the hallway.

  Rufus arched his back. His tail swelled to three times its normal size. He ran to the door, and after a moment, Jenny made herself follow him. Her legs were as stiff as sticks and she could hardly breathe, yet she had to see what was out there.

  No! Jenny opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She could only stare at the mammoth crocodile that was dragging itself over the bare floor. Bulging eyes glared at her, and huge jaws stretched into a terrible grin.

  “Mom!” It was only a whisper. Jenny couldn’t shout; she couldn’t move. She could only stand there, terrified, as the crocodile crawled toward her.

  Suddenly there was a flash of movement at her feet. Rufus crouched in front of her, hissing and spitting. He looked as small as a kitten as he faced the crocodile.

  “Come back,” Jenny wailed, but Rufus didn’t listen. When the monster’s jaws opened again, he gave a high-pitched howl. Then, to Jenny’s horror, he leaped right into the giant mouth.

  “Rufus!” Jenny stumbled backward as a puff of smoke filled the hallway. “Rufus, where are you?”

  The smoke vanished as quickly as it had come. When it was gone, Jenny saw that the crocodile was gone, too. Rufus stood in the middle of the hallway, licking his fur and looking smug.

  “What happened?” Jenny asked. “How did you know what to do?”

  Rufus cocked his head. He licked one paw and rubbed it across his ear. Then he padded over to Jenny and looked up at her, green eyes gleaming. It’s okay, he seemed to say, you don’t have to worry about crocodiles when I’m around.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Ghost Witch

  “Drat that cat!”

  Jenny gave a little shriek and whirled around. Behind her, in the bedroom, stood an old lady dressed in black. She was short and round with rosy cheeks and a fierce scowl. In one hand she clutched a long, pointed stick.

  “You keep that animal away from me or I’ll turn him into a toad!” she snapped. “He’s nothing but a troublemaker!” She waved the stick, and Rufus darted out of sight. Jenny could hear him hissing in the hall.

  “Wh-who are you?” she stammered. “How did you get in my bedroom?”

  “Your bedroom?” The old lady laughed. “This was my bedroom long before it was yours, and don’t you forget it!”

  Jenny clutched the doorknob and wondered if she were dreaming. Little shreds of mist drifted around the old lady, like cobwebs. And her clothes were so strange—a long skirt that swept the floor, a tiny black hat tied in a bow under her chin.

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jenny quavered. “This used to be Miss Nagle’s house. You’re not—”

  “I’m certainly not your Miss Nagle!” the old lady exclaimed. “She was a stick—no fun at all, I’m sorry to say. If you must know, I’m her grandmother. Her famous grandmother, if you please. In my day everyone in this town knew the witch of Willowby Lane.”

  “The w-witch?” Jenny felt dizzy. She closed her eyes, then opened them quickly.

  “I was a witch, I am a witch, I’ll always be a witch,” the old lady sang gleefully. “Oh, you were so scared when you saw my crocodile, weren’t you? It was lovely! Scared out of your socks—till that pesky cat butted in. I haven’t had such a success in years.”

  Jenny’s knees were trembling so much, she could hardly stand, but now she was beginning to be angry as well as frightened.

  “It isn’t nice to try to scare people,” she said. “It’s—it’s mean!”

  “Mean shmean,” the old lady chuckled. “Witches are supposed to frighten people. And some folk frighten very nicely—like you, my dear. Some don’t frighten at all—my granddaughter, for instance—the one you call Miss Nagle. Oooh, she made me so cross! Wouldn’t even look at my wonderful snakes and spiders and dragons and crocodiles. ‘Stop that nonsense!’ she’d shout when I wanted to do a bit of haunting. ‘I’ve got dusting to do,’ she’d say. Oh, she was a bore! And that cat of hers is just as bad. I’m so glad you’re coming here to live. I’ll try all my tricks and spells on you and your friends. Scary animals are what I’m best at, you know, but I can make all kinds of things appear if I want to. We’ll have a splendid time!”

  “No, we won’t,” Jenny wailed. “You can’t do that—you can’t!” She thought of her mother down in the basement, humming happily as she worked. “I’ll tell my mother. She’ll make you go away.”

  The ghost witch smiled slyly. “Your mother doesn’t believe in ghosts,” she said. “She’ll never know I’m in the house. Why, if she were to come up the stairs right now, I’d be gone before she got here. And if you tried to tell her about me, she’d tell you to stop imagining things.” She laughed again, a creaky cackle. “It’ll be our little secret, my dear. And I’ll have a surprise for you and your friends every day. Like this!”

  The ghost witch waved her stick, and there was a rush of wings. Rufus screeched from the hallway as a bat as big as an eagle swooped into the bedroom. It dived low over Jenny’s head, whizzed twice around the walls, and came to rest hanging upside down from a curtain rod.

  “That’s just the beginning,” the ghost witch said proudly. “Now I’ll show you—” She lifted her stick again, but Jenny had had enough.

  “No!” she shouted and dashed out of the bedroom and down the stairs with Rufus right in front of her.

  The ghost witch’s cackle followed her as she ran. “Later, then,” she chuckled. “There’re lots more surprises where that came from. You’ll see, my dear, you’ll see.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mr. Barkin’s Surprise

  “Why didn’t you tell your mom?” Chris wanted to know. She and Jenny were sitting in the farthest corner of the school lunchroom. Their lunch bags were on the table in front of them.

  Jenny leaned back and sighed. “But I already did tell her about the snake and about the door openi
ng and closing by itself, and she didn’t believe me. What would your mom say if you told her there was a crocodile in your upstairs hall and a witch and a bat in your bedroom?”

  Chris rolled her eyes. “You’re right. My mom would ground me for a month for telling whoppers!” She opened her lunch bag and took out a sandwich. “Did the ghost witch really say she’d make spiders in your house? And dragons?”

  Jenny nodded unhappily. She was already sorry she’d told Chris about the ghost witch, but she’d had to tell someone. “That’s a secret,” she whispered. “Promise.”

  Chris shivered. “I don’t even want to think about it,” she said. “Spiders and snakes and dragons make me sick. And a ghost witch makes me sicker than anything.”

  Jenny reached into her lunch bag for the chocolate cupcake she’d seen her mother wrap that morning. I’m going to end up being a hermit just like Miss Nagle was, she thought. Sooner or later, everyone will find out about the ghost witch. I won’t have any friends at all. I’ll sit in my bedroom window seat all day with Rufus and eat cupcakes all by myself.

  When school was over for the day, it seemed to Jenny that Chris was already treating her differently.

  “I’m going to find Mr. Barkin and see if he’ll tell me what his Halloween surprise is,” Chris said. She sounded as if it didn’t matter whether Jenny came along or not.

  Jenny bit her lip. “Okay, let’s,” she said. They walked silently down one block and around the corner. Bobby Strauss was playing catch with some other boys in the street ahead of them.

  Jenny jumped back. “Let’s go through the alley,” she said. Chris shrugged and followed.

  When they reached Mr. Barkin’s apartment building, they went around the side to the shed behind it. He was usually there. Bags of plastic containers lined one wall, and boxes of cans lined the other. Mr. Barkin was in the middle, tying a bundle of newspaper with cord. He waved when he saw the girls in the doorway.