Keeping Holiday Read Online Free PDF Page B

the doorway was just a small glimmer of light behind them. The pathway actually grew broader the farther they walked. It appeared very well traveled. Eventually, smaller trails began to branch off, but since they were small and unpaved, it was impossible to mistake them for the main road.
    The first moan Dylan heard came so softly that, once it died away, he convinced himself that he had never heard it. The next moan was also quiet, so quiet that he thought Clare had just sighed. The third moan, though still quiet, was definitely a moan, and it caused Dylan to say, “Clare? What’s wrong?”
    “Me?” Clare whispered back. “I thought you were making that noise.”
    Then it came again, a long, drawn-out shuddering groan. Now that it was louder, Dylan could tell that it came from off to the right somewhere. It must be far away, he thought, and he found that comforting.
    “It’s not an animal, is it?” Clare whispered.
    “I’m sure it’s a person,” Dylan answered.
    “I think I’d feel better if it were an animal,” Clare said. The noise came again, still louder, sounding like a wolf ’s howl in the dead of night, yet decidedly human. Then another wail came and another, each fuller of grief and despair than the last. Whatever was making that noise had experienced something sadder than the saddest story Dylan had ever heard. The deathly stillness after each wail only made the next one more terrible.
    “Listen!” Clare whispered sharply. “There’s a new one.” Dylan listened. Sure enough, a new voice had begun to moan off in the distance on the other side. As if in answer, more cries, and then more, started up until mournful wailing surrounded them. “This is very creepy!” Clare muttered.
    “But all that noise is far away,” Dylan replied, trying to calm his own nerves along with hers. “And look, you can still see the doorway back there. And the path is still well kept along here, so people must go this way. Plus look how light it still is.” Dylan had been struck by this before. There was still light. It was not a natural light, like sunlight, and it was not very bright, but it was adequate to see by. Dylan could see no source for the light, but there it was and it was a tremendous help.
    The cousins walked on, neither of them wanting to make it worse by saying so, but both of them hoping they had not much farther to go. Dylan had been so distracted by the dreadful noises that he had failed to notice the odor that had been steadily growing as they progressed deeper in under the rock. Now this odor had become so strong that it finally forced him to notice. Just as he did, Clare whispered loudly, “Ugh! What is that awful smell?” A memory flashed into Dylan’s mind, the memory of coming upon a dead rabbit in the field near his house. The rabbit had evidently died several days earlier and it had smelled terrible, with an odor very similar to what was all around them now.
    “I can’t take much more of this,” Clare said, out loud, but quietly. Dylan heard a tremor in her voice. For a brief moment, he felt a surge of revulsion for this evil-sounding, evil-smelling place. He had to resist the impulse to turn and run back the way he had come. Unexpectedly, a different memory arose from who-knows-where,
replacing the memory of the dead rabbit and offering a stark contrast to the current surroundings.
    “Clare, Holiday is just as wonderful as this is awful—more wonderful,” Dylan said urgently. He spoke quietly, but he no longer whispered. Clare would not have been able to hear a whisper over the distant moans that were coming in constant, loud waves. “It smells awful in here, but I remember the smells from Holiday. I’ve never smelled anything like them—not just smells, the feeling . And this moaning is horrible, but I remember the music I heard from Holiday. It wasn’t just music—it was like people I wanted to be with forever calling me to come join them. I’m sure it’s worth all this