Читать книгу The Ghost of Whispering Willow - Amanda M. Thrasher - Страница 9

The bus made great time, which was a good thing, since it took at least fifteen minutes to get to the Willows. Stewart dropped his backpack on the kitchen floor and opened the refrigerator door. He grabbed a juice box and a cheese stick, his favorites, then left a note on the table. Be right back, it said.

He ran all the way to the Willows with his heart pounding. At first, he thought it was because he was running faster than usual, but he soon realized it was because he was nervous. His brow was sweaty, and so were the palms of his hand. He broke down and walked a while. Come on, dork, he told himself, trying to calm his nerves. You’ve gathered equipment a hundred times. Do it like you always do: gather, reset, and leave.

Stewart had a sick feeling in his gut. He was worried that whatever had touched Andy would be watching him, just like it had Andy. He pushed the thoughts out of his head and continued to walk toward the woods, wishing Andy were with him. His eyes darted back and forth as he walked the path, and Stewart thought the woods seemed eerily quiet. There wasn’t a single breeze to be had.

His instincts suddenly told him to stop. Stewart listened to the stillness, and his hand smeared the beads of sweat across his face as he wiped his brow. Just keep walking, he told himself, forcing one foot in front of the other, in an attempt to shake his nerves. Stewart picked out familiar sounds and focused on those. He recognized the sound of the stream and the bullfrogs croaking in the distance, a bird every now and then fluttering from tree limb to tree limb, and the occasional rustle amongst the bushes. It was working; his nerves started to settle. He was ready to do what he had come to do: gather the data, reset the equipment, and, hopefully, leave without an incident.

The surveillance location was deep in the woods, to the left of the stream, behind the great big dip. It was surrounded by lots of weeping willow trees. This was how the woods had gotten its name in the first place: the Whispering Willow Woods.

Camera Three had been the hardest camera to place. It was located in a log that had fallen years ago, landing directly over the dip. The log was charred, a sure sign it had been hit by lightning – unless you were talking to Andy. According to Andy, it was the heat from an alien exhaust craft. Stewart didn’t buy that, but whatever.

The boys always placed Camera Three deep into the log and protected it with a waterproof cover. They had pointed it toward the largest clump of willows on top of the hill. Getting the camera into the log was always easier than getting it out. They’d lie flat on their stomachs, crawl into the log as far as they possibly could get, and push the camera deep inside the log with their hands. Finally, they would position the camera with a long narrow rod, which was actually a pool brush borrowed from Stewart’s backyard. They had borrowed it so often, in fact, that Stewart’s father had finally replaced it and had allowed the boys to keep it as a permanent part of their “hunt toolkit” for the investigation.

Getting the camera out was never easy. Once, Andy got stuck in the log, and the boys nearly had to recruit a neighbor for help. They were scared to death that if their parents knew what they were doing, that would be it – no more shoving cameras in logs. To prevent that situation from ever occurring again, Stewart had taken the job of setting up and retrieving Camera Three. He had a slighter build than Andy. The boys couldn’t move the camera; the location they had was too good. This had been proven over and over by the data they’d collected. Camera Three stayed put.

Stewart stood behind the log and tightened the homemade hook. Slowly, he slid the rod into the log and lay down on his stomach, banging his head on the side of the log as he tried to maneuver the rod. Luckily, he suffered no scratches; they were much harder to explain to his parents. It took several tries, but Stewart finally managed to hook Camera Three. He wrapped the camera in a cloth and placed it in a black padded camera bag.

Camera Two was wrapped in brown carpet that actually looked like bark; it was suspended high in the branches of what they referred to as W1, the “Apparition Catcher.” It was the same location where they had seen the shadow figure for the very first time. It had been standing under that willow and seemed to walk toward them, only to disappear. When the event had taken place, the boys had frozen; neither of them could speak, not really sure what they had seen. Stewart finally managed a pitiful squeak, but by the time he had, it – the thing – was gone. Too scared to move and barely able to breathe, the boys had both pointed toward the willow at the very same time confirming they’d both seen it. They had been white as ghosts themselves. Still pointing, “Yep,” they had both said at the very same time. “I saw it too!” And right then and there the hunt had officially begun. They’d been so scared that they’d run home as fast as they could without discussing their experiences with each other until later. When they had discussed it, they had come to the same conclusion. The Whispering Willow Woods were definitely haunted, and they were going to prove it! The boys had gone back to the very same location several times, but they hadn’t seen whatever it was again. But they did continue to observe the strangest things: sudden temperature changes and odd, unexplained sounds and noises. There were other things as well, too difficult to explain, but they wanted to know more, find out what was going on.

The latest physical interaction between “it” and Andy had been huge. They had reached a milestone in their investigation. Now, if they had captured any data to back it up, that would be gold!

Stewart climbed the tree quickly where Camera Two was placed. It was getting late, and the shadows were long. Once he retrieved it, he made his way back down the tree. One camera left and he was still okay, no freaky experience to be had. He was glad, too; he’d rather have his buddy there with him if he were going to have an actual physical experience. Safety in numbers, he thought. It made him feel better. Breathe . . . just keep breathing . . . he told himself, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand.

Camera One could be tricky, since it was located between two boulders that sat on a tiny speck of sod right in the middle of the brook. It was the one camera that the boys constantly worried about. It was easier to spot than the others, although the locations of all three cameras had been chosen carefully and with purpose, each camera placed at a precise angle, with the span of the other lenses capable of overlapping each other; this ensured not a single shot was missed. Any activity, if it were happening, would be recorded and captured, and they had managed to record some unusual things, though the actual ghost seemingly stayed clear of the shot. The boys were starting to think that the ghost was keeping its distance, staying just out of the camera shots. However, the evidence was mounting, and Andy’s experience just motivated the boy’s even more.

As Stewart reached the bottom of the tree, he noticed the air had chilled. Research had shown cooler temperatures were often a sign of a ghost being present. If that was the case, then a ghost or something was in his presence. Gathering cameras Two and Three, Stewart dodged to the left behind a tree to test his theory. He was right; the air was noticeably warmer, at normal temperatures behind the willow. He laid the camera bags on the ground and moved quickly toward the stream and the rocks. Stay calm, gather Camera One, and get out of here, he told himself. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it! Stewart’s eyes darted about him as he realized three things:

1 He was nervous beyond belief,

2 the chilled temperature he was trying to avoid had suddenly reappeared and had seemingly engulfed him, and

3 it was starting to get dark.

He noticed that the leaves were blowing across the dirt and the stream was running faster than before; a breeze had definitely picked up. He also thought that the cooler temperature was following him. Suddenly, he felt scared on a level that he was unfamiliar with. Was it possible that he was being followed? Stewart tried his best to retrieve the last camera, but the rocks were very slippery and the water was flowing faster. As the water splashed against the bank, his clothes got soaked. In an odd way, the cool water that splashed him assured Stewart that his imagination wasn’t running wild – at least, not yet.

Stewart slid his hand between the rocks and gently removed the camera. He uploaded the data, reset the record button, wrapped the camera up in the protective waterproof cover, and placed it back in the waterproof bag. As Stewart worked, he was reminded of how fortunate they were that Andy’s dad was so cool about helping them with their stuff. His dad had made a waterproof box for them and ordered the waterproof digital camera for them in the first place. Granted, they would be working it off for the rest of their lives, but it had been worth it! Andy’s dad was the only adult who knew about their mission. Being in the armed forces, he understood the need for and respected their secrecy. He’d even offered to help if need be.

With the last camera finally in place, Stewart was ready to get out of the Willows and head for home. He had a sense of uneasiness, which had suddenly swept over him for no apparent reason. Not understanding or expecting it had made it ten times worse! Stewart wasn’t sure if he felt fearful, but it was safe to say he wasn’t comfortable. He stopped walking and looked behind him. Thankfully, he couldn’t see a single person. He suddenly felt as if eyes or something were watching him; the feeling was so strong, he could barely move, though physically he couldn’t see anything.

All of a sudden, to his horror, something whispered, “I see you,” and then brushed past him.

Stewart knew it was likely only seconds, but it felt like an eternity that he had been standing there on the path. “Ahhh!” he screamed, wishing he hadn’t as soon as he had. “Ahhh!” slipped out again, and even though he desperately wanted to run away, he was too scared to move. He looked all around; nothing was there.

The voice had said, “I see you,” but that was it. It hadn’t done anything. Stewart put his hand on his chest to make sure his heart was still beating; it was. He wanted desperately to move his feet, but they were planted firmly on the ground. His goose bumps had goose bumps! He couldn’t scream or call out again, because the words wouldn’t form. The air felt thick around him, as if the oxygen itself had suddenly become so dense he couldn’t breathe. Looking at his arm again, pinching it to be sure, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the thing had spoken to him. It had to have intended to prove to Stewart that it was there – that it existed.

For the first time, Stewart felt very afraid and started to panic. Gasping for air, he was frozen in one spot. He was alone, and he had no idea what to do. “Breathe, breathe, breathe,” he said out loud, “It didn’t hurt you! It can’t hurt you, it can’t hurt you!” he repeated over and over again, trying to convince himself it was true. He wasn’t exactly sure about the last part, but he was holding on to that part anyway. It hadn’t hurt Andy either, for that matter, during his personal experience. These are good things, Stewart told himself. Good things! “Relax. Breathe and relax,” he said taking in a deep breath.

It was working; his breathing had slowed down and he still had his wits about him. Stewart moved his frozen feet, one foot in front of the other. His mind knew what to do, but for some reason, his body wasn’t cooperating. Walking was awkward, let alone running. If he were having a stroke, surely someone, anyone, eventually would find him and help him if need be. Providing, of course, I’m still alive! He pushed that thought right out of his head; of course he’d be alive! He wasn’t having a stroke. He said his name and address, and counted backwards from ten to make sure. He had seen that on TV somewhere and couldn’t believe he’d remembered it.

“You’re being watched; you’re not being messed with. Think of the mission, think of the hunt. You’re in control, buddy! You’re in control!” Stewart told himself, though he didn’t feel as if he was in control. He listened to the sound of his voice and realized for the first time that his feet were finally moving and going in the right direction. Stewart was ready to get home, call the boys, and tell them what had just happened. They wouldn’t believe it! They would go over the data he’d retrieved piece by piece and see if they’d captured anything. He hoped the cameras had captured his experience. Stewart was certain at this point whatever was in the Willows was a who and not a thing.

As soon as Stewart reached his house and opened the back door, his saw his mother waiting for him in the kitchen. He couldn’t tell if she was upset with him. He was late, after all. He had so much to do that he didn’t have time for explanations. Not now, within a few seconds he’d know for sure, 5,4,3,2, and 1 . . . bingo, here she goes.

“I was about to start looking for you,” his mom said playfully. “Where have you been? You didn’t answer your cell.” She opened the oven door and pulled out a covered dish, poked it with a fork, and slid it back into the oven again. Stewart was caught off-guard when she asked him a second time. “Son, where have you been?” This time, he could tell that she wanted to know.

He gave a brief description of the events in the woods – with the exception of the possible ghost. His getting wet was due to fishing, he lied, which would explain why he’d been by the stream in the first place; well, kind of.

Fortunately, she seemed okay with all of it. “I’d rather you’d go with the boys than by yourself. It’s not safe,” she said for parental measure. She pulled the dish back out of the oven and poked it one more time; it was done. She pointed Stewart toward the sink. “Hands, son,” she said, “Wash them!”

Stewart did and sat down at the table with her; he was hungrier than he had realized. He ate, but kept one eye on the clock.

After dinner, there was a knock on the door. “Oh, I forgot,” Stewart said, “I called the boys; they won’t be here long. Is it okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. The boys walked through the kitchen, saying hello and grabbing the usual cookies and soda his mom quickly put on the table. They ran up the stairs and shut Stewart’s bedroom door, and before anyone could say a word, Stewart started rambling.

“You’re not even going to believe what happened to me in the Willows today,” he said excitedly. Turning to Andy, he said, “Get your pen ready.”

“Start talking,” Andy said opening up the log and entering the today’s date. “I’m ready.”

Stewart described how the cool air had followed him everywhere he went as he zigzagged down the trail, testing his own theory. He explained the eerie feeling the woods seemed to have that evening while he was there, “But then,” he said, “you’re not going to believe this.” He took a deep breath. “It spoke to me!”

“What?” Andy and Zack yelled at the same time.

“Shh,” Stewart said, “My mom will hear you. It spoke to me.”

“What did it say?” Andy asked, hardly believing what he’d just heard.

“It said, ‘I see you,’” replied Stewart. “Just like that. ‘I see you!’” Stewart stared at his friends; their mouths had dropped open and their eyes were huge. “It was so clear, I couldn’t move. Heck, I even screamed. I’ll admit it. I screamed – a manly scream, of course – but a scream like this: Ahhh!”

“Whoa!” Zack mumbled. “Wicked! Very, very, wicked!”

“I know, right!” Stewart said in agreement. He jumped up off the bed and pointed to his arm, “I’m pretty sure it brushed past me, too. I felt it right there!” he said excitedly.

Andy picked up the pen and started scribbling again. He was still as intrigued as Zack was about the voice. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to miss a single detail.

Zack wanted his own personal experience so bad he could taste it. But for now, he would just have to accept being a part of the team, hunting the ghost, and searching for some answers. He definitely wanted his own physical or visual experience like Andy’s or Stewart’s, one they could log in the journal on his behalf. “I can’t wait to have an experience like that, except you can bet I won’t be scared!” Zack joked, and all the boys laughed.

Andy threw a football at Zack’s head, and just as Zack picked it up and threw it back, he said, “Hey, I just thought of something: we still need to review the tapes.”

Stewart’s eyes lit up as he looked at the disks; there was no telling what they would find. With any luck, both of the boys’ personal experiences would have been captured. They were getting closer to figuring out what was going on in the Willows.

They dimmed the lights and hit play.