Lindsey Hobson

CHAPTER 1

Izzy pumped her legs up and down, sending her bicycle sailing down Broadway Street, leaving her siblings far behind. If she made it home before them, she could be the first one up to bat in their backyard baseball game. She glanced back over her shoulder. Her brother and sister would be easy to beat, but her best friend, Max, might already be at her house. Everyone knew Max took forever to bat. He was always trying to use physics to figure out the perfect angle to hold his bat, or the perfect distance to stand from the plate, so he could hit the ball further than Izzy could. But everyone also knew Isabel Gordon was the best batter on the block, and in her opinion, math had no place in baseball.

Izzy squashed down the doubt that bubbled up in her stomach. Every day this summer, Max had met them in their backyard at exactly 2:00, and they had played baseball until dinnertime. But for the past two days, Max hadn’t shown up. Izzy felt guilty. She had made fun of him, and he had left in a huff. Then, the guilt made her feel angry. They always teased each other; she had no idea why this time had been different. She hadn’t even really teased him that badly, but he had turned an impressive shade of red.

As her house came into view, Izzy felt a tingling at the base of her head, like the feeling you get right before you catch someone staring at you from across the room. With each rotation of her pedals, the feeling of being watched grew stronger and stronger until, despite her better judgment, Izzy slowed her bike, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the road. She glanced around, trying to find the source and realized she was smack-dab in front of creepy Mr. Johnson’s place. Despite the sunny July day, the enormous three-story house seemed to be steeped in shadows. Izzy shuddered. All the kids at Oak Hollow Elementary knew to steer clear of the decrepit mansion and the mysterious man who lived there.

Izzy scanned the porch and first floor windows but saw nothing. As she raised her eyes to the second floor, a slight movement in a window caught her attention. Squinting in the bright sunlight, Izzy could just make out the outline of a person with long hair, who quickly ducked behind the curtain.

“What are you doing?”

Izzy jumped and turned toward the voice, half expecting to see Mr. Johnson himself, standing beside her in the street. Instead, she found her sister, Anna, who was staring intently at her, head tilted slightly to one side.

“Nothing. I just, uh… I thought I saw someone in the window.”

“Eww, really? How creepy!” Anna said, although her voice sounded more excited than creeped out. “Do you think it was Mr. Johnson? I mean, of course it was, who else could it be?”

“Maybe,” Izzy answered. “I didn’t get a very good look.” Izzy rubbed her arms, suddenly chilly even though the air was thick with humidity. “Let’s go.”

Anna looked a little disappointed, but Izzy knew if she told her sister it looked more like a girl in the window, it’s all she would talk about for days, and frankly, Izzy was already ready to forget about what she may (or may not have) seen. She couldn’t help but think about the worst rumor she had ever heard about the Johnson house -- Mr. Johnson’s daughter was poisoned. She scrubbed a hand across the back of her neck, as if trying to rub away the weird sensation that still prickled across her skin.

Izzy took off, ready to put some distance between herself and the creepy house. Anna kept pace with her and as they rode past the empty lot that separated the Gordons’ house from the Johnsons’, Izzy was vaguely aware of Anna going on and on about some fashion article she had read in the latest teen magazine. Usually when Anna talked about celebrities and fashion, Izzy was quick to roll her eyes and change the subject. Which made Anna roll her eyes and declare Izzy couldn’t possibly understand, because Izzy wasn’t a teenager yet. As if fourteen was so much more mature than twelve. For once, though, Izzy was happy for the distraction and found herself nodding here and there.

The sound of bicycle tires on asphalt brought Izzy out of her daze. “Geez, guys,” her little brother, Steven, panted as he finally caught up to them in front of their house. “You know my legs can’t ride that fast!”

Izzy looked at his flushed face and grinned; there was just something about Steven that could always cheer her up. Deciding she had let her imagination run away with her, she forced herself to shake it off. After all, like Anna had said, who else could it have been besides old man Johnson?

She reached out and pinched her brother on his sweaty arm. “Because we can. Last one to the diamond has to get the ball out from under the shed.” Steven and Anna groaned. Their only game ball was still stuck under the shed where it had rolled two days ago, which had led to the fight, or whatever it was, between her and Max. When he had reached under the shed to retrieve it, something had hissed. Max had screamed, Izzy had made fun of him, and he had stormed off. After that, no one had been willing to try again, but Izzy was determined to play ball today -- Max or no Max.

Jumping the curb, she raced across their yard and dumped her bike at the corner of the garage where she found Max waiting for them, baseball bat in hand. “What took you guys so long?” he asked as he thudded the end of the bat against his shoe.

Izzy glared up at him. “What took us so long? We’ve been waiting on you for TWO days!”

Max cleared his throat. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, yeah? With what?” she demanded a little more harshly than she meant to. She knew she should probably apologize, but she didn’t really know why he had been so upset. Something was changing between them, and Izzy didn’t like it.

Before Max could answer, Anna and Steven zoomed past them on their bikes, headed toward the diamond.

Steven stomped on his breaks, causing his tires to kick up a cloud of dust. “We beat you!” he yelled. “You have to go get the ball!”

“Ugh.” Izzy sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

CHAPTER 2

“Isabel Gordon steps up to the plate - she’s the first 12-year-old to be drafted to the major leagues.”

Izzy tried to ignore him as she got ready for the pitch. She swung the bat. SWOOSH!

“A swing and a miss! A terrible start for the rookie.”

“Shut up, Steven!” Izzy yelled in the general direction of her little brother. She knocked the end of the bat against home plate and got back into her stance. She stared down her sister, who was standing on the makeshift pitcher's mound, and nodded once.

SWOOOSH!

“Strike two! The coach does not look happy.” Steven continued in his best announcer voice.

“I said STOP, Steven!” Izzy glared at him as she squeezed the worn-out grip of the bat. “Get ready!” she hollered to Max, who was covering the outfield. “This one’s coming your way!” She lined her feet up shoulder width apart, bent her knees, and raised the bat to her shoulder.

CRACK!

“Holy smokes!” said Anna as she ducked her head.

“It’s a HOME RUN! And the crowd goes wild!” Steven yelled into his makeshift microphone.

SMASH!

“Oh, no! Was that a window?” Izzy slowed as she rounded second base. "Mom is going to freak!” She hung her head. This was the second window Izzy had broken this summer.

“Not just any window,” Anna said as she jogged from the pitcher’s mound. She stood beside Izzy and wiped the sweat from her eyes. “That ball was headed straight for Mr. Johnson’s place.”

Steven, for once, was silent.

“Impossible!” Max shook his head. “That house is at least 300 feet away, that would mean she hit the ball the length of a football field!" Izzy rolled her eyes at her best friend's annoying habit of spewing facts whenever he was nervous. "Impossible,” he said again.

But the girls didn't stick around for any more “impossibles”. They were already running across the big, empty lot beside their house, toward the scene of the crime.

They quickly checked for cars, then hurried across the side road separating the empty lot from the Johnsons’ house and stopped at the edge of the yard. Slowly, they inched across the exposed part of the lawn and crouched behind a bush, surveying the damage.

“Look,” Anna whispered, pointing to a first-floor window on the side of the house. Shards of glass littered the peeling window frame and covered the overgrown bushes below.

“Nooooo,” Izzy moaned. “What am I going to do?”

Although it was the middle of the afternoon, the curtains were closed tight, making it difficult for them to see anything inside the house. Suddenly, a light snapped on in the front room, casting an eerie shadow figure on the curtain. Frozen with fear, their eyes followed the dark shape as it crossed the room and began pulling the long curtain away from the shattered pane.

“RUN!” Anna hissed.

The girls took off back to the safety of their yard, running into the boys halfway.

“What’s going on?” Steven asked, having found his voice again.

“GO!” Anna yelled without slowing.

The four didn’t stop until they reached their own backyard, where they collapsed, winded, onto the patio furniture.

Izzy rested her forehead on her crossed arms, her curly brown hair hiding her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she could go back in time – back to when she wasn’t such a screw-up. She would give anything to open her eyes and see her dad grilling hamburgers and her mom bringing out bowls of freshly sliced watermelon to set on the table. She peeked one eye open, but nothing had changed. Mom was working late, the grill was cold, and the window was still broken.

“What happened?” Max asked between gasps.

“It was Mr. Johnson’s window, all right,” Izzy said, her voice muffled against her arms.

“We saw him. And he almost saw us!” added Anna.

All three heads swiveled to Izzy, their eyes boring holes into her head. She raised up and looked at them. “You can’t tell. Please! Mom does NOT need this right now. I’ll think of something, I just need some time.”

They nodded in unison. A solemn pact between three siblings and their best friend.

“If it was anyone but Mr. Johnson, I could probably work off the money doing chores or something. But him...” Her voice trailed off.

The group was silent. They had all heard the rumors about Mr. Johnson at school. With each year that passed, the stories became more and more sinister.

“I heard he hasn’t left his house in thirty years!” said Steven.

“I heard some kids knocked on his door once, on a dare,” whispered Max, “and they haven't been seen since.”

“I heard if you walk by the house at night, you can still hear their ghosts knocking,” added Anna.

Izzy felt the same creepy-crawly feeling she felt earlier in the day when she stopped in front of Mr. Johnson’s house. Her eyes flicked in the direction of the Victorian, and she quickly scanned the second story windows, but she was too far away to see anything clearly. Did she really see someone hiding behind the curtains? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into their driveway.

“Who could that be?” Anna wondered. “Mom said she wouldn’t be home until later.”

The four sat frozen as they heard the engine shut off and a car door open and close.

“Anna? Izzy?” They could hear their mom calling a few seconds later from inside the house. “Steven?”

Relief flooded Izzy as she sprang to her feet.

“We better go inside,” said Anna. “See you later, Max.”

“And remember… not a word about the window, okay? Promise?” Izzy asked.

Everyone nodded.

CHAPTER 3

Izzy pushed the sliding glass door open and stepped into the kitchen. Mom was standing by the island, behind a stack of pizza boxes and some two-liter bottles of soda.

“You’re home early,” Izzy squeaked.

Mom cocked a perfect black eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all!” Anna pushed past her siblings, hurried over to the cabinet, and began pulling out plates. “It’s just, we didn’t expect you, or pizza. Yum!”

Mom’s eyes zeroed in on the silent Steven, still standing in the open doorway. “What’s wrong, Steven? You look white as a ghost.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. Great, if anyone’s going to spill the beans, it’s going to be Steven, the Mama’s boy, she thought.

“Mom, everything’s fine!” said Izzy, pinching Steven on the back of his arm.

“Ouch!” he squealed.

“Help Anna with the drinks.” She nudged him toward the kitchen, and he pulled glasses out of the dishwasher, mumbling something about bossy big sisters.

“Is everything okay with you?” Anna asked their mom as she began setting the table. “How was work?”

All three held their breath. The last time Mom had made it home for dinner this early, she had been laid off, and it was months before she was able to find another job.

“It was great,” said Mom, and they all exhaled. “My boss told me to go home early to see you guys. He even bought the pizza.”

Izzy and Anna eyed each other. They both knew what the other was thinking; Mom’s boss, Dr. Watson, had a crush on her and was trying to score some brownie points.

“I saw that,” said Mom without taking her eyes off her pizza. “Dr. Watson does not want to date me. He just cares about his employees.”

Yeah, if he cares so much why do you always have to work overtime? Izzy wondered but knew better than to ask. She knew her mom was beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to date her?

Although she was in her forties, her straight black hair showed no sign of turning gray like Max’s mom’s hair had. Anna and Steven had inherited Mom’s raven hair and blue eyes. Izzy, on the other hand, got her unruly brown hair, brown eyes, and love of baseball from their dad. It was a blessing, and a curse, to be a walking reminder of the dad they had lost.

“Earth to Izzy,” Steven said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

Startled out of her memories, Izzy glared at her brother. “What?”

“Mom wants you to pass the pepperoni.”

“Sorry,” she said as she handed over the box.

“What did you guys do today?” Mom asked, taking a piece.

Izzy almost choked on a bite of pizza that had turned into cement in her throat.

The three siblings looked at each other. “Oh, same ‘ole same ‘ole,” said Anna. “Played some ball with Max. Ran around outside.”

“It’s so hot out. Would you guys like to go to the pool tomorrow?” Mom asked.

“Yes!” said Steven. “Can I invite Dylan?”

Mom shrugged. “Sure, I’ll call his mom after dinner and see if she can drive you guys there.”

Izzy breathed a little easier. So far so good. With any luck, Steven might forget all about the broken window.

“Oh, Mom. I almost forgot, Izzy hit a home run today! All the way over to Mr. Johnson’s house!” Steven said through a mouthful of chewed up pizza.

Izzy and Anna both landed a kick right to his shins. “OWW!” he howled. “What was that for? Oh, yeah. I mean, nothing broke or anything.”

Too late.

“Izzy! Did you break another window?” Mom asked.

Izzy looked down at her plate, the pizza swimming in her vision as tears filled her eyes.

“Seriously, Izzy? I just finished paying for Mrs. Howard’s window! What did Mr. Johnson say?”

The room was so quiet you could hear a mouse fart, as their dad used to say.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t go over there to apologize. Izzy! I thought we raised you better than that!”

“But, Mom, Mr. Johnson is…” Izzy tried to explain.

“Stop. I’ve heard those nasty rumors. He’s just a lonely man with a broken window, thanks to you. You’ll go over there tomorrow, first thing, and apologize.”

“But, Mom!”

“Tomorrow, Isabel. I'd take you myself, but I have to work a double shift. You’ll stay home while your brother and sister go swimming, and do whatever you can to make it up to Mr. Johnson. Understand?”