Read The Haunting for Free Online Page A

kept asking her questions about this invisible friend of hers and she kept shaking her head.
    Finally I gave up and went downstairs. Steve was sitting in my chair, eating pancakes. He looked at me and grinned.
    â€œMom, I just saw something weird in Sally’s room,” I said, knowing it sounded lame. But I had to tell her, no matter how crazy it sounded. Sally might be in danger.
    I described what happened with the bunny and what Sally had said about her new friend.
    Steve looked at me bug-eyed but Mom just laughed. “Lots of kids Sally’s age make up invisible playmates. It’s perfectly healthy. She must have been holding that bunny somehow, Jay, and you just couldn’t see it.”
    I wasn’t exactly surprised when no one believed me about the bunny floating in midair. I could hardly believe it myself. So I decided to change the subject. “Did you come in and open my window last night?” I asked Mom. Maybe there was a rational explanation for that, too.
    â€œNo, of course not. We haven’t got the screens up yet. Which reminds me. I’ll have to get your father to look for them in the basement. She added a note to the list she was making.
    â€œWell, someone opened it,” I said. “And it sure wasn’t me. And then it slammed down and almost took my head off. I was going to tell you about it at breakfast but then the bathroom decided to blow up and try to boil me alive.”
    Mom frowned with concern. “What you need is some fresh air, young man. Blow the cobwebs away.” Her tone softened. “You had a frightening experience this morning, Jason. I don’t blame you for feeling shaken up. You need to get it off your mind.”
    â€œI’ll keep his mind off it, Mrs. Winter,” Steve said. “He gets a load of my fastball, he won’t be able to think of anything else.”
    My mother nodded happily. “Great. Go ahead, Jay. Go out and play with your new friend.” She winked at Steve. “He’s not imaginary, is he?”

12
    We fooled around in the backyard for a while, with Steve pitching and me hitting, but with nobody else around to field the ball we got tired of chasing it down.
    â€œLet’s check out the lake,” Steve suggested.
    There was a boat landing and a recreation area on the lake, but there wasn’t much of anybody around yet, so we ended up skipping stones.
    Steve made it look easy. He’d take this small rock and cock it in his fingers and then flick his wrist and the stone would skip across the water like something alive.
    When I tried it, the stones kept going plop! and sinking right away.
    â€œLike this,” said Steve, showing me how to flick my wrist.
    I tried again and was amazed to get three skips.
    But Steve shook his head. “Your stones are too round,” he said. “You need flat ones and you have to hold them like this.”
    â€œYeah, okay,” I said, and started searching around the shore for flat rocks.
    â€œI’ve been skipping stones since I was about three years old,” Steve said, showing me how to position my thumb and forefinger. “I’m surprised the lake’s not filled in by now.”
    Once I got into the rhythm of it, I learned pretty quickly. And concentrating almost made me forget about the old house and the evil laughter and the bursting pipes and the invisible playmates.
    I reared back and skipped a stone that seemed to bounce clear across the lake.
    â€œOh, no,” Steve cried. “What have I done? I’ve created a monster!”
    â€œDr. Frankenstein!” I said, making a monster face.
    We fooled around some more and I was surprised at how fast the time flew by.
    On the way back up Cherry Street we looked up and saw the house, or what you could see of it peeking through the tall trees. It was cool in the shade and I shivered in my damp T-shirt.
    Steve got this serious look on his face. “All that stuff you said about