His newly focused mind concentrated on being silent
and not hitting anything with the shovel he was
carrying. Now more aware of his surroundings, he
noticed that the normal night sounds that he heard
every night now sounded anything but normal when
he was actually paying attention to them. Therefore,
to keep his nerve up, he told himself that he would
be famous and people would love him, and be sorry
that they ever neglected and laughed at him and
would forget all about his embarrassing episode with
the circus. I’ll show them, he thought.
The full moon shone on the ruins of the haunted
house, now picked over by so many people in search
of treasure that it looked pitted and tired. The boy
approached it cautiously, looking around to see if
he was being watched. The wind, gently brushing
the leaves of the trees, sounded to Joe like the secret
meetings of witches and ghosts and all manner of
spooks. However, his resolve was strong. He was
going to do what many others had failed to do. He
was going to find treasure.
His reasoning was simple. He was going to go in
there at night and search for it. Not only at night,
but at midnight. He was not entirely sure how
this would affect hidden treasure, but if digging
for treasure at the foot of a tree was best done at
midnight, then why not digging for treasure in a
haunted house?
He checked the moon, being careful not to look
over his left shoulder, and decided that it was now
midnight. Slowly, he placed his foot on the rotting
boards of the first step. It squeaked horribly and
nearly frightened Joe out of his mission, but as
no ghosts or witches came flying out at him, he
continued, trying to pick the spots that were less
rotten and more sound wood.
Once he was standing at the crazily leaning door he
peered into the musty house. The furniture that was
left was falling to pieces and scattered all over in the
most careless manner. It smelled like wood, animals,
and another scent that Joe supposed was ghost
scent. The moonlight could not penetrate fully into
the house, so most of it was in shadow, lightened
only by occasional moonbeams that came through
windows or holes in the walls. The boy ventured
cautiously into the house and looked around, wary
and poised to bolt. After a while, he decided that he
should search for a spot that would be appropriate
for buried treasure.
He had not tiptoed seven steps when he heard the
most outlandish noise he had ever heard before in
his life. It sounded like a woman’s screech, but Joe
knew it was not a human voice. “Witches!” was his
only thought, and he did not want to stick around
to find out if he was right. Just as he turned to dash
away, however, a stray chair that had other plans for
him got in the way. He tripped and fell to the floor.
Somehow, he got turned around and found himself
looking deeper into the house. From a dark doorway
that led into another room he saw two gleaming,
yellow circles of light. They were coming closer to
the fallen boy.
Joe was hypnotized by those twin circles of light and
could not move. However, the screech came again
and galvanized him into action. He scrambled to his
feet and bolted out the door and into the forest.
He did not stop running even for a moment. He
thought he could hear the sounds of pursuit behind
him, and it spurred him on. Inwardly, he cursed
himself for going to the haunted house at all. Now
he would likely be killed by ghosts and have a spell
put on him by witches. Joe was not sure which was
worse, but was sure that he wanted no part of either.
His breath became ragged, but still he plowed
on. Through the treetops he caught a glimpse of
rooftops. A hoarse cry tore from his throat, “Help!
Murder! Help!”
He dared a look behind him and was chilled by what
he saw. A large, black shape was pursuing him. He
caught glimpses of the yellow circles of light and
realized with a shock that they were eyes. Some
10
BAYLEY BULLETIN, SEP-NOV 2016
