44 - Say Cheese and Die—Again Read Online Free

and carted away.
    And where was the camera?
    Where?
    Had someone found it? Pulled it out and kept it?
    Or had it been crushed when the workers smashed the concrete? Crushed and
destroyed forever?
    I moved the beam of light back and forth along the far wall. I’m not sure
what I expected to see.
    Did I think I’d find the camera hidden in its square hole in the pit wall?
Did I think I would see it in a corner of the muddy floor?
    The light swept over dirt and knots of tree roots.
    Nothing else.
    I clicked off the flashlight and shoved it into my pocket.
    I turned away from the hole, side-stepping a pile of broken shingles.
    A strong gust of wind made the old trees groan and creak. I barely noticed
the eerie sounds.
    I’m going to get an F, I thought unhappily.
    The camera is gone forever, and I’m going to get an F.
    My summer is ruined. And the other kids in class will never believe me. They
will laugh at me and click cameras at me forever.
    I let out a long, glum sigh.
    Angrily, I kicked a broken board out of my path and started down the lawn to
my bike.
    I had taken four or five steps when a shrill voice yelled, “Caught you!
You’re not going anywhere!”

 
 
7
     
     
    The high voice in the night air startled me. Without thinking, I started to
run. Then stopped.
    I spun around, my heart heaving against my chest.
    And saw a boy. About my age. He had picked up a board from the ground and
held it high, as if ready to swing it.
    He wore a black sweatshirt over faded jeans, holes in both knees. His dark
hair was cut very short. He glared at me with dark, tense eyes.
    “Dad—I caught him!” he shouted. He had a high, shrill voice that made him
sound like a little kid.
    “Whoa. What do you mean?” I cried. “Caught me?”
    “Don’t move,” he ordered me, raising the board higher. He took a step closer.
Then another. His eyes burned hard into mine.
    “I wasn’t doing anything!” I told him. “I—I was just looking.”
    As he stepped up to me, I saw his expression change. The anger faded from his
eyes. His mouth slid open.
    “You—you’re not him!” he stammered.
    “Huh? Who?” I cried. “I’m not who?”
    “Hey—I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought you were someone
else.”
    “Well… I’m not someone else!” I replied. “I’m me.”
    “There’s a kid who lives down the block,” the boy explained, scratching his
dark crew cut. “He’s been sneaking over here at night and stealing stuff from
the yard.”
    My eyes wandered over the cluttered lawn. “What was he stealing? There isn’t
much left.”
    The boy nodded. He tossed away the board he planned to use as a weapon. It
clattered against a pile of boards beside me. “He was taking lumber and stuff. I
thought you were him.”
    “Did your family buy the Coffman house?” I asked. Even though it was such a
cool, windy night, my forehead was all sweaty. I reached up and mopped the sweat
with the back of my hand.
    “Yeah. We bought it,” he replied. “But Dad said the house was too wrecked to
fix up. So he had it torn down. We’re going to build a new house.”
    The wind made the trees creak again. I glanced down to the street and saw the
back wheel of my bike spinning.
    “People told us the Coffman house was haunted,” the boy said. “So I’m glad Dad tore it down.” He kicked at a
shingle on the ground. “My name is Jon. What’s yours?”
    “Greg. I—I live down at the bottom of the hill. A few blocks past the
school.”
    I gazed to where the house had stood. “My friends and I used to sneak into
the old house,” I told him. “You know. Just for fun. For excitement. I think it was haunted. Really.”
    He narrowed his eyes at me, studying me. “What were you doing here?” he
demanded. “Why did you come up here tonight?”
    I decided to tell him the truth. “I was looking for something,” I said. “A
camera.”
    He scratched his short hair again. “An old camera?”
    “Yes!” I cried