The Haunted Read Online Free PDF

James’s mom told them it was time to go to bed.
    Robbie had already unrolled his sleeping bag on the floor, and while James’s mom had given him an extra pillow to use, he decided to rest his head on the beanbag chair instead. James, of course, slept in his bed. The two of them talked for a while in the dark—it was their goal to stay up until midnight—but they were tired, and within ten minutes both of them were fast asleep.
    “James!”
    The cry sliced through sleep and into his dream, waking him.
    “James!” It came again.
    He sat up groggily, opening his eyes. There was an edge of annoyance or desperation in his friend’s voice that indicated Robbie had been trying to wake him up for a while, and he had the sense that the other boy had been calling his name for some time.
    James leaned over the side of the bed. “What is it?” he whispered.
    “I want to go home.” It sounded as though Robbie was about to cry.
    James squinted over at the clock Ms. Hitchens had given him last year for reading more books than any other student in the class. The multicolored numbers indicated that it was two thirty. “It’s the middle of the night!” James said.
    Robbie did start to cry. “I want to go home!”
    James felt scared. He had never seen his friend like this before and didn’t know what he was supposed to do or how to react.
    But he was scared for another reason as well.
    He was suddenly sure that Robbie had had a nightmare about the basement.
    It was not something he would ask about, for the simple reason that he didn’t want to know, but the possibility frightened him, and he imagined his friend dreaming about the dirty man standing in the corner, grinning.
    Maybe if they ignored the problem, it would go away. “Just go back to sleep,” James said. He felt sure that if they could just make it to morning, everything would be all right.
    “I can’t!” Robbie cried.
    There was a knock at the door, and James’s dad gently pushed it open. “Everything all right in here?”
    “We’re fine,” James offered quickly.
    “I want to go home,” Robbie said, sniffling.
    His dad turned on the light, and the room was suddenly filled with a brilliant glare that, coming after the darkness, caused James to squint. “What’s the matter?” his dad asked kindly.
    “I want to go home,” Robbie repeated.
    The look on his father’s face told James that his dad thought the boy was probably just homesick. That was a possibility—but Robbie had stayed overnight at their old house before and nothing like this had happened.
    “I have an idea.” His dad left for a moment and came back with a cordless phone, which he handed to Robbie. “Here. Let’s call your parents.”
    Nodding assent, Robbie took the phone. In the silence, James could hear the beeping of the numbers as his friend dialed, and then several rings before a faint voice answered.
    “Dad? I want to come home.” Robbie was no longer crying, but his voice still quavered with emotion. There was a pause. “I know.” Robbie sniffed into the phone. “Yeah.” There was a long silence. James could hear the faint chipmunk chatter of his friend’s dad on the other end of the line. “Okay,” Robbie said finally. “Okay. I will.” He handed the phone back. “Here. My dad wants to talk to you.”
    “Kent?” James’s dad moved into the doorway and lowered his voice so the two boys couldn’t hear the conversation.
    James looked at his friend quizzically. “So?”
    “My dad said I have to stay.” Robbie sounded resigned but no longer frightened. He’d not only stopped crying, but the panicked edge was off his voice.
    James couldn’t help himself. “Why do you want to go home?”
    Robbie shook his head, not willing to answer.
    Did you have a nightmare?
James wanted to ask.
Was it about the basement?
    But he didn’t say anything, and seconds later his dad came in, cheery smile in place, and told them both to go to sleep, waiting until Robbie was back