Philip and the Haunted House (9781619500020) Read Online Free Page B

to play?”
Philip’s mom asked when she saw them.
    Even though Pratt Street had looked like any
normal street, and even though the weather outside made for a very
lovely November day, the boys decided to stay inside.
    “ No, we have homework, Mom. What’s for
dinner?”
    “ Well, since your father had to stop by
the mall to pick up your photos, we decided he’d bring home some
Chinese food for dinner. Mom’s night off.”
    “ Fortune cookies, too?” Philip asked.
“And those crispy noodles with the sweet sauce?”
    “ I think your father’s lived with you
long enough, Philip, to know. Don’t worry.”
    Philip and Emery slapped hands and got to
work. They took a break at four-thirty to watch The Three Stooges
on TCM for half-an-hour, but by the time Philip’s dad walked in at
five forty-five, they’d finished with their homework.
    “ Did you get the pictures, Dad? Let me
see,” said Philip.
    “ Here they are,” Mr. Felton said,
putting down the big bag of Chinese food and reaching into his
briefcase. He tossed the bag of photographs to Philip, who curled
up on the sofa with Emery to look them over. Mr. Felton hung up his
coat, and carried the wonderful smelling bag of food to the
kitchen.
    “ Wow,” said Emery. “They look good. You
look stupid in this one with your foot on the bag of grass. You
look like you’re Tarzan, and you killed it or
something.”
    Philip felt silly when he looked at the
picture, but Emery was right. The pictures did look good. “We’re
getting an A for sure.”
    “ Did you write up our report?” Emery
asked.
    “ Most of it. I can write the rest now
we have the pictures. You know, put those words at the bottom of
the pictures.”
    “ Captions,” Emery explained.
    “ What?”
    “ Captions. They’re called
captions.”
    “ Oh.” Philip thought a moment. “If you
know what they’re called, why don’t you write them?”
    Emery thought a moment. “I know what a rocket
ship is, but I can’t build one. I know what a home run is, but I
can’t hit one. I know what a poem is, but I can’t write one. I know
what Chinese food is...”
    “ All right. All right. I get
it.”
    Philip’s mom called that dinner would be
ready in five minutes.
    Philip looked over the pictures again and
began to arrange them for the report.
    “ These two go together,” said Emery
when he saw Philip matching the photos.
    “ I know. I know. And this one...”
Philip stopped. He picked up one of the photos from the sofa
cushion and held it close to his eyes. He took the companion
picture and studied it even more closely. He picked up two more and
put them aside. He picked up another two and after them another
two. After he’d inspected all the photos, he kept one pair in his
hand and put another pair down in front of him.
    “ What’s wrong?” Emery asked.
    “ Emery...” Philip began.
    “ Philip, what?”
    “ Look at these two
pictures.”
    Emery took them and studied them. “Yeah,
so?”
    “ You know those puzzles? Like in the
Sunday comics. Find six things different from one picture to
another?”
    “ Yeah.”
    “ Find one thing different from this
picture to this one.”
    “ The grass is cut.”
    “ Don’t be stupid. Would I ask you if it
was that easy?”
    Emery tried again.
    “ We’re standing in a little different
spot?”
    Philip glared at his friend.
    Emery defended himself and said, “Well, in
those comic puzzles some of the things are only changed real
little. A finger moved and stuff like that.”
    “ Look at the porch.”
    “ The porch. Okay, I’ll look at the
porch.”
    Philip waited.
    “ Yeah. There’s something. A piece of
paper.”
    “ Right. Look close. I think it’s a
Happy Pie paper.”
    Emery looked close.
    “ Maybe, but it’s just a regular piece
of paper.”
    “ You see the color?”
    “ Mmmm,” said Emery, concentrating on
the picture. “It’s Happy Pie colors.”
    “ My mom put Happy Pies in our missing
lunches. Remember?”
    “ So