Ambrose looked in the corner where David’s bookshelf used to be. The bookshelf that housed Frankenstein and Treasure Island from the library. He remembered how much his brother struggled to read when he was younger. Back before there was such a word as “dyslexia.” They just called the kids like David “slow.” But David kept working at it, and he became a great reader.
When Ambrose moved out of this house, he couldn’t bear to bring that old bookshelf, so he sold it to an antiques dealer. He would give all of his money to have it back now. He would put it up in his room at Shady Pines and put David’s baby book on the top shelf.
Creakkkkkk.
Ambrose stopped. He heard the floorboard behind him. Ambrose turned quickly. The door was closed behind him. But he hadn’t closed the door.
“Jill? Mrs. Reese?”
There was no one there. But Ambrose could suddenly feel something in the room. A wind on his skin. Little whispers on the hairs on the back of his neck.
“David?” he whispered. “Are you in here?”
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped. He could smell the old baseball glove. He squinted through the clouds in his eyes. The cataracts that turned the whites into cracks in a windshield. It was only a matter of time now. His eyes would go, and he wouldn’t be able to see the wallpaper replaced with paint. The area rug replaced with hardwood floors. The old bookshelf replaced with a crib. His old family replaced with Jill’s new one. His little brother David replaced with their baby. The baby was crying on the porch.
Let me out, Ambrose! Let me out!
Ambrose could feel his brother in the room.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Ambrose, please!
“David, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Ambrose could feel the draft shooting through the floorboards. The wind howled outside the window where David left, never to return again. Ambrose traced the draft along the gaps in the floorboards. He reached the corner of the room. The corner where David’s bed used to be. The corner where David read Frankenstein and drew terrifying pictures on the wall that his mother papered over with her promises of “He’s fine. He’s fine.” Ambrose bent his arthritic knees and knelt down in the corner. And that’s when he felt it.
The floorboard was loose.
Ambrose took out his army knife and jammed it into the gap. He sawed back and forth, creating more space. He finally loosened it enough to pivot the knife and create a little crowbar. He lifted the board out and stopped when he saw it. Sitting there. Hidden in the crawl space.
David’s old baseball glove.
Ambrose lifted the glove out of its hiding place. He held it to his chest like a lost child. He took a big deep breath. The leather smell poured through Ambrose, bringing with it memories. And that’s when he noticed the glove was too thick.
Something was hidden inside the glove.
Ambrose took a quick breath and opened it like a clamshell. There he saw a little book wrapped carefully in plastic. A little book covered in leather. It was bound with a strap and held together with a little lock and key. Ambrose had never seen it before, but he was almost positive he knew what it was because his brother talked about it. It was David’s best-kept secret.
Ambrose was looking at his little brother’s diary.
Chapter 49
Christopher stood on the street, looking up at the old Olson house. The nice man was in there somewhere. He had to rescue the nice man. Christopher had gone straight from school to the woods. When he went into the tree house, it felt like Superman’s phone booth from the old movies. A place to change. Once he closed the door and crossed to the imaginary side, he immediately felt better. His fever and headaches were replaced with clarity and power.
But the hissing lady could be anywhere.
Christopher crouched low and watched Ambrose standing in David’s old bedroom. The old man was holding a baseball glove. David Olson was standing right next to him, trying to put his hand on Ambrose’s shoulder. But Ambrose did not know that his little brother was there.
David is…
David is…helping us.
Be absolutely silent. She will test to see if you are there.
DO NOT FAIL THAT TEST.
Christopher stepped onto the porch. Silently. He looked into the little windows on either side of the front door. The entry hall was empty. But the hissing lady could be