Philip and the Haunted House (9781619500020) (4 page)

In a rising voice ending in a scream Emery
cried, “Philip, something ate the Happy Pie. Let’s get out of
here!”

Philip didn’t have to be told twice. Off the
boys ran at top speed, and they didn’t stop until they reached
Philip’s living room.

Chapter Seven

“
Before we go home today,” Mr. Ware
began, “we have time to check on how some of you are coming with
your community service project.”

Emery’s hand shot up, and Mr. Ware said,
“Yes, Emery?”

“
We’re finished. Philip and
me.”

Mr. Ware raised his eyebrows. “So soon? What
was your project?”

Emery said proudly, “We beautified the
neighborhood.”

The class giggled, and Philip slunk down in
his seat.

“
And how did you beautify the
neighborhood? Give us a preview of your report. We have a little
time now,” Mr. Ware said with a smile.

Emery told their story, leaving out any
suggestion about the house being haunted and about the disappearing
lunches. He ended, “And we’ll be getting the before and after
pictures tonight. Philip’s dad is bringing them home after his
work.”

“
Well, very impressive, Emery, Philip.
The rest of you, class, still have time, though. And you two boys
can still try to add to yours, improve it if you can think of a
way, but it sounds very good as it is. Anyone have any
questions?”

Since the hands of the clock showed three
o’clock, no one was dumb enough to prolong the school day by asking
a question, so Mr. Ware dismissed the class.

Emery asked his mother’s permission to have
dinner at Philip’s house so he would be there when Philip’s father
got home from work with the photographs. On their way home they
peeked down Pratt Street toward the haunted house, but nothing
unusual met their cautious eyes.

“
What’s your mom cooking tonight?”
Emery asked as the two boys opened their book bags and got right to
their homework.

“
I don’t know.”

“
Aren’t you two going out to play?”
Philip’s mom asked when she saw them.

Even though Pratt Street had looked like any
normal street, and even though the weather outside made for a very
lovely November day, the boys decided to stay inside.

“
No, we have homework, Mom. What’s for
dinner?”

“
Well, since your father had to stop by
the mall to pick up your photos, we decided he’d bring home some
Chinese food for dinner. Mom’s night off.”

“
Fortune cookies, too?” Philip asked.
“And those crispy noodles with the sweet sauce?”

“
I think your father’s lived with you
long enough, Philip, to know. Don’t worry.”

Philip and Emery slapped hands and got to
work. They took a break at four-thirty to watch The Three Stooges
on TCM for half-an-hour, but by the time Philip’s dad walked in at
five forty-five, they’d finished with their homework.

“
Did you get the pictures, Dad? Let me
see,” said Philip.

“
Here they are,” Mr. Felton said,
putting down the big bag of Chinese food and reaching into his
briefcase. He tossed the bag of photographs to Philip, who curled
up on the sofa with Emery to look them over. Mr. Felton hung up his
coat, and carried the wonderful smelling bag of food to the
kitchen.

“
Wow,” said Emery. “They look good. You
look stupid in this one with your foot on the bag of grass. You
look like you’re Tarzan, and you killed it or
something.”

Philip felt silly when he looked at the
picture, but Emery was right. The pictures did look good. “We’re
getting an A for sure.”

“
Did you write up our report?” Emery
asked.

“
Most of it. I can write the rest now
we have the pictures. You know, put those words at the bottom of
the pictures.”

“
Captions,” Emery explained.

“
What?”

“
Captions. They’re called
captions.”

“
Oh.” Philip thought a moment. “If you
know what they’re called, why don’t you write them?”

Emery thought a moment. “I know what a rocket
ship is, but I can’t build one. I know what a home run is, but I
can’t hit one. I know what a poem is, but I can’t write one. I know
what Chinese food is...”

“
All right. All right. I get
it.”

Philip’s mom called that dinner would be
ready in five minutes.

Philip looked over the pictures again and
began to arrange them for the report.

“
These two go together,” said Emery
when he saw Philip matching the photos.

“
I know. I know. And this one...”
Philip stopped. He picked up one of the photos from the sofa
cushion and held it close to his eyes. He took the companion
picture and studied it even more closely. He picked up two more and
put them aside. He picked up another two and after them another
two. After he’d inspected all the photos, he kept one pair in his
hand and put another pair down in front of him.

“
What’s wrong?” Emery asked.

“
Emery...” Philip began.

“
Philip, what?”

“
Look at these two
pictures.”

Emery took them and studied them. “Yeah,
so?”

“
You know those puzzles? Like in the
Sunday comics. Find six things different from one picture to
another?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Find one thing different from this
picture to this one.”

“
The grass is cut.”

“
Don’t be stupid. Would I ask you if it
was that easy?”

Emery tried again.

“
We’re standing in a little different
spot?”

Philip glared at his friend.

Emery defended himself and said, “Well, in
those comic puzzles some of the things are only changed real
little. A finger moved and stuff like that.”

“
Look at the porch.”

“
The porch. Okay, I’ll look at the
porch.”

Philip waited.

“
Yeah. There’s something. A piece of
paper.”

“
Right. Look close. I think it’s a
Happy Pie paper.”

Emery looked close.

“
Maybe, but it’s just a regular piece
of paper.”

“
You see the color?”

“
Mmmm,” said Emery, concentrating on
the picture. “It’s Happy Pie colors.”

“
My mom put Happy Pies in our missing
lunches. Remember?”

“
So the…whatever ate the pie and threw
away the paper?”

“
You think I’m kidding? The whatever
ate the pie the second time when we tried to catch it, didn’t
it?”

“
Don’t call it an ‘it.’ I don’t
like…it.”

Philip frowned at Emery. “Now look at this.”
He handed Emery two more pictures.

Emery looked at them carefully. He looked up
at Philip, his eyes wide.

“
Even you see this one, don’t
you?”

“
The window’s open,” said Emery softly.
“It’s not open in the first picture, and it’s open in the second.”
There were windows on each side of the front door, and one of the
windows had opened itself very slightly in between when Philip’s
father took the first picture and when he took the second
picture.

“
Why is the window open,
Emery?”

“
Maybe the whatever wanted some fresh
air?”

“
I think
you
need some fresh air. No. The window’s open
because this house has to be haunted, Emery,” Philip said
decisively. “Windows don’t open by themselves.”

Emery looked again at the second
picture. Without doubt, someone or... some
thing
opened the window while he and Philip cut
the grass.

“
Dinner, boys. Come and get it,” called
Philip’s mom.

Philip turned the photos upside-down on the
coffee table. “We’ll figure this out later. Let’s go eat,” he said
and led Emery into the kitchen.

Chapter Eight

As Philip went upstairs to take his bath
later, he heard his parents talking in the living room. It sounded
interesting so he sat on the next to the top step to listen.

“
They haven’t caught them yet,” his
father said.

“
You don’t think they’d start robbing
houses, do you?” his mother asked.

“
Probably not. Not enough money in
them. They made off with quite a bit from the pizza store Saturday
night and the deli the day before. The paper said the police think
the robbers might actually be from this neighborhood since they
seem to know it so well.”

“
Can’t they trace the money and arrest
them when they spend it?”

Philip’s father shrugged. “Maybe. They can if
they know the serial numbers, but it’s not likely the store owners
wrote them down.”

“
No, I suppose not,” Philip’s mother
answered.

Philip heard someone get up so he got up,
too, and went into the bathroom. He turned on the water for his
bath and began to think. As he sat in the bathtub, he thought some
more. Usually he found some way to play in the water, but this time
he didn’t bother playing. He simply sat and thought. After he dried
off and got into his pajamas, he went downstairs to say goodnight
to his parents. He climbed back up to his room, turned off the
lights, nestled into bed, and thought some more. Soon, he had it
all figured out. He had a plan, but he’d need Emery’s help because
he knew he couldn’t act out his plan all by himself. No way.

As Philip slept, he dreamed he moved toward a
very dark place with something close behind him. He turned and saw
another boy his size. It had to be Emery. Together they moved into
the dark place. An odd noise sounded nearby. He turned to the boy
next to him but couldn’t see the boy’s face. Together, they moved
forward. Suddenly, a bright shape came at them from the right. The
boys ducked. Then a bright shape came from the left. They ducked
again. Philip turned and a bright shape came from behind them. He
and the other boy ran. The other boy pointed. Ahead of them lay a
golden object. They ran to it, and the other boy picked it up. More
bright shapes came at them. He and the other boy ducked and ran
faster and faster toward a light gleaming ahead of them. The bright
shapes chasing them disappeared as they approached the light, and
the other boy still had it—the golden treasure.

Philip’s eyes opened, and he could feel
his heart beating hard. Why? Oh, his dream. Then he remembered it.
All of it. A dream about entering a scary place and coming out of
it with a treasure. Two boys, like Tom and Huck. But this time—him
and Emery! In the haunted house! The dream made him certain what
he’d planned earlier would work! The haunted house
had
to be the place where the bandits
who robbed the neighborhood stores hid the stolen money, especially
if, as his father said, they knew the neighborhood. The opened
window in the photograph proved someone—and not a whatever—used the
house. It had to be the robbers. Who else could it be? Wait until
he told Emery what he’d figured out! They had a chance to be rich!
They could get the money when the crooks weren’t looking. It would
be easy. He only had to convince Emery to go inside the haunted
house with him, and he’d do that in school today.

****

“
Let’s walk past the haunted house,”
said Philip as he and Emery walked home from school.

Emery stopped. “Why?”

“
I want to tell you something about the
haunted house.”

“
Same side of the street or
across?”

“
Across,” Philip answered more quickly
than he meant to. He’d never convince Emery to go inside with him
if he acted afraid of the house.

As they walked, Philip talked. He told his
friend everything he figured out the night before. By the time they
stood opposite the house, Philip had said all he needed to. With
its newly mown lawn and with the bright November sun shining, the
house looked peaceful.

“
The window’s closed,” Emery
said.

“
I see.” It was the first thing Philip
had looked for.

Emery went on. “You really think the crooks
hid the money inside the house?”

“
Somebody
opened the window, right?”

“
But if we go in to get the money,
won’t they be in there and get us?”

“
No, I told you. You don’t think they
stay there all the time, do you? Somebody would see them. Somebody
would see them go in and out if they were there all the time. They
can’t cook there or anything like that. And if a grownup saw the
window down and up and then down again, the grownup would
investigate or call the police.”

“
I’ll bet they can’t even flush the
toilet.”

Philip looked at Emery.

“
Somebody might hear it.”

“
So there you go. They were there on
Saturday when we cut the grass because they committed a robbery on
Friday night. They hid the money and went away. They did it again
on Sunday afternoon when they threw away the Happy Pie paper.
There’s got to be a lot of money in there, Emery.”

“
When we get it, do we put it in the
bank or what do we do with it? Can we go out and spend
it?”