The Ghosts of Now Read Online Free Page B

withered fingers against the glass.
    A breeze isn’t bad. It might break the smothering, dry heat that each day sizzles up from the sidewalk and presses down from a flat sky. But as I watch those quivering leaves at the edge of darkness a feeling of dread begins to creep through my shoulders and up my neck. I step back from the window, gasping for breath.
What’s the matter?
    “Hey!” I tell myself. “Don’t let your imagination get out of control.” But the suddenness of my voice in the silent room adds to my fright, and I scramble toward the puddles of bright light under the reading lamps in the den.
    Maybe it’s premonition. I don’t know. I’m staring at the telephone when it rings so loudly that I jump. It takes all the courage I’ve got to move toward it a stepat a time. It rings again as I put my hand on the receiver, and the vibration trembles through my body.
    “Hello?” I clear my throat and try again, speaking more loudly. “Hello?”
    The voice that comes over the phone is a whisper. “Angie?”
    In the pause that follows I shout, “Who is this?”
    There’s a strange sound, like a sob or even a smothered laugh, and the whisper continues. “Your brother is dead.”

CHAPTER THREE
    “Who are you?” I scream, but I hear the click of someone hanging up. “Who are you? What are you doing?”
    I slowly put down the telephone and look at it as though it will have more to tell me. Was that some kind of a sick prank? It had to be. People aren’t notified of terrible things by voices like that. Are they?
    There’s a scrap of paper by the phone. It’s the telephone number Mom left. I scoop it up and begin to dial, but my fingers are trembling so violently that I drop it, and my mind hasn’t registered the number. Never mind. Dad said this was an important dinner, and what can I tell him? What if he and Mom race home in a panic, and Jeremy walks in the door like nothing had happened?
    Jeremy was about ten the day he didn’t come home after school. Mom and Dad had called the police, and they went out to look for him too. They told me to stay by the phone, so there I was when the door opened and Jeremy walked in. He was surprised that everyone was searching for him. All he’d been doing was playingbaseball! I was so glad to see him, and so angry with him at the same time, that I hugged him, then shook him until he broke away, kicking me in the shins.
    I steady myself by taking a couple of deep breaths. What if it were some creepy friend of Jeremy’s thinking he was being funny? I don’t know any of Jeremy’s friends. Any except Boyd. And I’ve got to find out where Jeremy is. Maybe Boyd will know. I perch on the edge of the chair by the telephone and thumb through the white pages until I find Boyd’s address. My hands aren’t shaking now. I’m able to dial the number, and when a voice answers I ask for Boyd.
    The words are deep and slurred with sleep. “It’s late, young lady. You shouldn’t be calling boys at this hour.”
    “I’m sorry,” I answer, apologizing automatically. “I’m Angie Dupree, and I’m only calling Boyd because I think he can help me find my younger brother. May I speak with him, please?”
    He clears his throat and his words are stronger. “Oh. I see. And your brother is a friend of Boyd’s?”
    So Boyd hasn’t bothered to tell his parents about Jeremy. Some friend.
    “Tennis partners.”
    “At the high school?”
    This man is driving me crazy. “Look, please may I speak to Boyd? It’s terribly important.”
    “I wish I could help you,” he says in a tone that means no such thing, “but Boyd isn’t home. I believe he went to a party with some friends.”
    “Did my brother go with them?”
    “I have no idea. If you like I’ll leave a note for Boyd to call you when he gets home.” He’s grumbling like a bear dragged out of his cave during hibernation.
Come on, mister, it’s only ten forty-five
.
    “Never mind,” I say. “Thanks anyway.” I