Christina's Ghost Read Online Free

was “getting things into a muddle,” just as Uncle Ralph had said on their way to Grandma’s house.
    She moved to the book-and-toy shelf. Most of the books and games were too babyish to interest her, but on the bottom shelf she discovered a stack of comic books. Just what she liked! She picked up the top one and thumbed through it, looking for a Jokes and Riddles page.
    â€œWhat did the monkey say when he caught his tail in the lawn mower?” Her voice was loud in the silent room. Quickly, she turned the book upside down to find the answer at the bottom.
    â€œIt won’t be long now.” She giggled. A small sound, like a sigh, made her turn to the door. The little boystood there, smiling wistfully.
    Chris couldn’t believe it. Where had he come from? How could he have gotten in without making a sound? She tried to say hello, but the word came out in a froggy croak.
    The little boy vanished.
    Chris darted to the door. “Come back, boy,” she called. “You don’t have to be afraid.” She ran down the hall, stopping to open each closed door. The rooms were empty.
    At the end of the hall was a door she hadn’t tried the night before. She ran to it now and threw it open. Stairs led upward into attic shadows. A blast of icy air struck her as she mounted the first step.
    Go! Go away!
The words thundered around Chris, a terrible rush and roar that was partly sound, partly frigid cold. She leaped back into the hall and slammed the door with all her strength. In the quiet that followed, she could hear her heart thudding.
    She leaned against the wall. At the other end of the hall, her bedroom door stood open, offering safety, but her legs wouldn’t carry her there.
What had happened?
she wondered numbly. What was there, on the other side of the attic door? She’d felt as if she were drowning in that avalanche of sound and chilling wind.
    She took a shaky step, then raced to the stairs and down to the front door, her feet pounding furiously.
    â€œWhat’s all the racket?” Uncle Ralph shouted from his study, but she kept on running, letting the door slam behind her.
Go away!
the voice from the attic had told her, and that was what she wanted to do.
    The trouble was, she realized when she reached the end of the pier, there was no place to hide when she stopped running.

5.
The Boy Comes Back
    Chris sat on the pier for a long time, watching the raindrops hit the lake in overlapping ripples. The air was warm, and the rain soothed her. By the time it had slowed to a drizzle, she felt oddly comforted. The lake, the gentle rain, the line of still, green pines edging the water were more real than anything that had happened in the old house.
    Maybe nothing did happen
, she told herself. A cold wind—was that so scary? And had she really heard a voice telling her to go away? She couldn’t be sure.
Maybe I even made up the little boy
, she thought, trying hard to believe it was true.
When people are lonesome, they sometimes make up a friend
.
    True or not, she didn’t want to go back to the house, at least until Uncle Ralph finished working and came out of his study. Even his disapproving company would be better than none.
    Find something interesting to do—that’s the answer. Find a project
. Chris sat up straight. That was what her mother had told her on the telephone, and Chris had agreed, planning then to find out more about the little boy. Now she decided she wanted to forget him. She’d find another project.
Don’t sit around and mope
, was what her mother always advised.
Get going!
    Chris narrowed her eyes and looked out over the gray water. What could she do? What would keep her busy during the long hours while Uncle Ralph was working? What would keep her out of that house?
    Suddenly she had the answer. She would teach herself how to swim.
    Chris had taken lessons at the YWCA at home, and she could paddle around a little, but she’d never