The Crossroads Read Online Free PDF Page A

scenery. Rolling hills. Stone fences. The whole state of Connecticut looked like the cover of a Christmas card, only it was summer now, so there wasn’t any sparkle-flake snow on the ground.
    â€œThat’s the entrance to Spratling Manor,” Zack’s father said when they neared a pockmarked driveway leading to a wrought iron gate.
    â€œIt’s a haunted castle,” said Zack. “Lots of evil lurks behind those walls.”
    â€œReally?” said Judy. “Evil? And it’s lurking?”
    â€œYep. Grandpa said so, anyway.” Zack pressed his nose against the window. “Coming up next is the field where the Rowdy Army Men roam. Late at night, you can see them marching out of the forest.”
    â€œOkay,” said Judy. “Just exactly who are these Rowdy Army Men?”
    â€œDead soldiers from the Korean War,” said Zack. “They got drunk and shot each other.”
    â€œOh-kay. Any ghosts at our house?”
    Probably just my dead mother,
Zack wanted to say, but instead he mumbled, “I hope not.”
    Judy turned around. “Are you okay, hon?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œHere we are.” His father eased to a stop at the red blinking light. “Home sweet home!”
    Judy looked around. “We live in the middle of a highway?”
    â€œNo. We’re right over there.” Zack’s father pointed to the far side of the intersection. “See?”
    â€œNo. Sorry. I see trees and a squirrel. Maybe he ran away from that clock tower.”
    Zack leaned forward. Good. No more ghost talk. They had jumped back to squirrels and monkeys.
    â€œIf you squint,” he said, “you can kind of sort of see our chimney between all the trees.”
    Zack knew where the house was situated because he and his father had come up to watch the men building it one Saturday back in April while Judy was off on her
Curiosity Cat’s Furball
book tour. This would be her first time seeing the house.
    â€œIt’s right up there,” he said. “See?”
    â€œYes. No. I’m lying. I don’t see anything except trees. Wildflowers.”
    â€œWait. How about that giant oak tree?” Zack’s father pointed to a huge black tree. “The one with the white cross nailed to it.”
    â€œOkay. I can see the tree with the cross.”
    â€œThat’s us. That tree is in our backyard.”

“Not another word!”
    â€œBut, Momma…”
    â€œYou’ll get us both fired!”
    Early that same Monday, Sharon was down at the Spratling Manor carriage house visiting her mother and son.
    â€œI swear I saw her, Momma. Last week. The woman in white. The one folks talk about…right in the crossroads!”
    â€œDo you want Miss Spratling to think you’ve gone mad?”
    â€œI know what I saw, Momma.”
    The baby began to wail and kick.
    â€œNow look what you’ve done. You woke up Aidan.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Momma.”
    â€œSharon, you listen to me, girl: You are not to say another word about this. Not to anyone!”
    â€œYes, Momma.”
    An old intercom box mounted on the wall buzzed. Sharon’s mother depressed the talk-back button.
    â€œYes, Miss Spratling?”
    â€œSend Sharon up to the main house immediately!”
    â€œYes, Miss Spratling.”
    Sharon’s mother took her finger off the button. “Hurry! Go!”
    Sharon kissed Aidan goodbye and raced out the carriage house door.
    It was another Monday.
    Time to visit the roadside memorial.

Zack’s father turned into the entrance of the Rocky Hill Farms subdivision.
    The housing tract used to be a real farm until the farmer’s family realized they could make more money selling the land than they could selling corn.
    Most of the homes weren’t quite finished. Tyvek-wrapped walls waited for vinyl siding. Two-by-fours and cinder blocks were stacked in the craggy dirt that one day would become front