The Secret Path

For Pat, my editor

F
or Adam Freeman, moving to Spooksville wasn't something he'd planned. But being only twelve, he hadn't a lot to say in the matter. They had to move, his parents said, because of his father's job. Of course, when they told him about Spooksville, they didn't call it that. Springville was the proper name of the small oceanside town. It was only the local kids who called it by the scarier, but more accurate, title. It was only kids who knew how weird the place could get after dark.

Or even during the day.

That was the thing about Spooksville.

Not all its monsters waited until the sun went down to appear.

Unpacking the moving van and carrying his stuff up to his new room, Adam wasn't thinking of monsters or the supernatural. But that was soon to change. Oh, yes, in a big way.

“Adam,” his father called from inside the truck. “Can you give me a hand with this love seat?”

“Sure,” Adam replied, setting down the box of clothes he was carrying. He enjoyed helping, even though his muscles were still sore from loading the truck two days ago in Kansas City, Missouri. His father, who was something of a nerd, had driven straight through to the West Coast town. Adam had slept on a rubber mat in the back of the truck. The road had been rough.

Adam was small for his age, but he was growing steadily and figured he'd catch up soon. The problem was he had no one in particular to catch up to now that all his friends were over a thousand miles away. Adam thought of
Sammy and Mike as he climbed into the truck. He wondered what they were doing right now. His father paused to stare at him.

“What's that look?” his dad asked. “Are you homesick already?”

Adam shrugged. “I'm OK.”

His dad ruffled his hair. “Don't worry. You'll make new friends soon. Not all the cool guys live in the Midwest.” He smiled as he added, “Not all the cool girls live there, either.”

Adam frowned as he leaned over to pick up his end of the short sofa. “I'm not interested in girls. And they're definitely not interested in me.”

“It's when you're not interested in them that they start to chase you.”

“Is that true?”

“Some of the time, if you're lucky.” His father leaned over and picked up his end. “Let's lift on the count of three. One—two—”

“Why is it called a love seat?” Adam asked. He was curious about many things, even things he pretended to have no interest in.

“Because it's only big enough to fit two lovers. Are you ready? One—two—”

“You know I didn't really know any girls in Kansas City,” Adam added hastily.

His father stood up again and stretched. “What about Denise? You saw her all the time.”

Adam felt his cheeks redden. “Yes. But she was just a friend. She wasn't a . . .” He struggled to find the right word. “She wasn't a
girl
girl.”

“Thank God for that.” His father leaned over again. “Let's just lift this thing and get it over with. One—two—”

“Three!” Adam said as he yanked up hard, catching his father by surprise.

“Ahh!” his father exclaimed and dropped his end. He clutched his lower back and his face twisted with pain.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Adam asked, thinking what a stupid question it was. His father waved him away as he limped down the ramp of the truck.

“I'm all right. Don't worry. Just a pulled muscle. We need a break anyway.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

Adam was concerned. “Are you sure you're
all right?” His father wasn't exactly in perfect shape. In the last couple of years he had grown a fair-size belly. Too many doughnuts and sodas, Adam thought, even though those were two of his favorite foods, too. That was one of the things that made his dad sort of a nerd—he liked junk food as much as kids.

“I'm fine,” his dad said. “Let's stop and have a drink. What would you like?”

“A Coke,” Adam replied, following him down the ramp.

“I don't think we have any Cokes in the refrigerator.”

“I don't think we have a refrigerator,” Adam said. He pointed to the large white container at the rear of the truck. “We haven't unloaded it yet.”

“Good point,” his father said, sitting down on the lawn.

“Should I tell Mom you're hurt?”

“Leave her, she's busy.” He pulled a twenty from his back pocket and handed it to Adam. “Why don't you run down to the 7-Eleven on the corner and get us a cold six-pack.”

Adam pocketed the bill. “Yeah, I'll just tell
them I forgot my ID, but I really am over twenty-one.”

“I meant a six-pack of Coke.”

“I know.” Adam turned away, “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

His dad groaned as he leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. “Take your time. I don't think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

I
t was while Adam was returning from the store with the sodas that he met Sally Wilcox. She sneaked up on him from behind. A pretty girl about his age, she had long brown hair and a sticklike figure that somehow made her look like a doll that a fairy queen had brought to life with a wave of a magic wand. It was a hot day, and her long legs poking out of her white shorts were tan and bony. She had the widest brown eyes Adam had ever seen, and she didn't look a thing like Denise back in Missouri.

“Hello,” she said. “Are you the new kid in town?”

“I suppose so. I just got here.”

She stuck out her hand. “My name's Sara Wilcox, but you can call me Sally. It's easier to remember.”

Adam took her hand. “I'm Adam Freeman.”

Sally practically shook his fingers off. “What should I call you?”

“Adam.”

She nodded to his Coke cans. “Are those cold?”

“Yes.”

“May I have one, please?”

It wasn't as if he could say no, being the new kid and all. He gave her a Coke, which she promptly opened and drank. She didn't even let out a loud burp afterward. Adam was impressed.

“You must have been thirsty,” he remarked.

“I was.” She studied him for a moment. “You look depressed, Adam.”

“Huh?”

“You look sad. Are you sad?”

He shrugged. “No.”

Sally nodded to herself. “You left someone special behind. I understand.”

Adam blinked. “What are you talking about?” This girl was weird.

Sally waved her hand as if what she was saying was obvious. “You don't have to be embarrassed. You're a good-looking guy. You must have had a good-looking girlfriend wherever you came from.” She paused. “Where was that anyway?”

“Kansas City.”

Sally nodded sympathetically. “She's a long way away now.”

“Who?”

“I just met you, Adam. How would I know her name?”

Adam frowned. “My best friends in Kansas City were named Sammy and Mike.”

Sally tossed her long hair impatiently. “If you don't want to talk about her, that's OK. I'm going through an identity crisis myself.” She paused. “But you couldn't tell that just by looking at me, could you?”

“No.”

“I hide it. I suffer in silence. It's better that
way. It builds character. My aunt says I have a face full of character. Do you think that's true?”

Adam resumed walking toward his house. The Cokes were getting warm and Sally was making him dizzy. But it had been nice of her to say he was good-looking. Adam was a little insecure about his looks. His brown hair, similar in color to Sally's, was not nearly so long. His father cut his hair, and the man believed in closely trimmed lawns as well as heads. Nor was Adam as tall as Sally, who seemed to him to have stilts sewn on to her legs. But people told him he had a handsome face. At least his mother did when she was in a good mood.

“I guess,” he replied to her last question about the character in her face.

She followed him. “Are you going to introduce me to your family? I always like to meet parents. You can get a good idea of what a guy is going to become by looking at his dad.”

“I hope not,” Adam muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. How long have you been living here?”

“Twelve years. All my life. I'm one of the lucky ones.”

“You mean, it's really neat living in Springville?”

“No. I mean I'm lucky to be alive still. Not all kids last twelve years in Spooksville.”

“What's Spooksville?”

Sally spoke in a serious tone. “It's where you're living now, Adam. Only adults call it Springville. Kids know the real story of this place. And let me tell you it deserves to be called Spooksville.”

Adam was bewildered. “But why?”

She leaned close, telling him a great secret. “Because people here disappear. Usually kids like us. No one knows where they go, and no one talks about the fact that they're gone. Because they're all too afraid.”

Adam smiled uneasily. “Are you pulling my leg?”

Sally stood back. “If I was pulling your leg, you wouldn't be standing. I'm telling you the straight truth. This town is dangerous. My advice to you is to drive out of here before the sun goes down.” Sally paused and put a hand
on his shoulder. “Not that I want to see you leave.”

Adam shook his head. “I'm not leaving. I don't believe a whole town can be spooked. I don't believe in vampires and werewolves and junk like that. I'm surprised you do.” He added quietly, “I think you
are
going through an identity crisis.”

Sally pulled back her hand and regarded him gravely as she spoke. “Let me tell you the story of Leslie Lotte before you decide I'm crazy. Until a month ago she lived down the block from me. She was cute. You might have been interested in her if you met her before me. Anyway, she was great at making stuff: jewelry, clothes, kites. She was really into kites. Don't ask me why. Maybe she wanted to be a bird when she grew up. Anyway she used to fly her kites in the park by the cemetery. Yeah, that's right. In Spooksville the park is next to the cemetery, which is next to the witch's castle—which is a story in itself. Leslie used to go to the park by herself, even close to dark. I told her not to. Last month she was there all alone flying her kite when a huge gust of wind came
along and blew her into the sky. Blew her right into a dark cloud, which swallowed her whole. Can you believe that?”

“No.”

Sally was exasperated. “I'm not lying! I may be confused about my personal values at the moment, but the truth is still very important to me.”

“If she was flying the kite all alone in the park, how do you know what happened to her? Who told you?”

“Watch.”

“Watch what?”

“Not what. Watch is a who.”

“Who's Watch?”

“You'll meet him. And before you get worried, I want you to know that our relationship is not and never has been romantic. We're just good friends.”

“I'm not worried, Sally.”

She hesitated. “Good. Watch saw Leslie disappear into the sky. He wasn't in the park but in the cemetery. So you see, technically, Leslie was in the park all alone.”

“It sounds to me like your friend Watch has a vivid imagination.”

“That's true. He can't see very well, either. But he's not a liar.”

“What was he doing in the cemetery?”

“Oh, he hangs out there a lot. He's one of the few kids who lives here who enjoys Spooksville. He loves mystery and adventures. If he wasn't so weird I'd be attracted to him.”

“I like mystery and adventures,” Adam said proudly.

Sally wasn't impressed. “Then you can camp out in the cemetery with Watch and tell me what it's like.” She stuck out her arm, pointing. “That's not your house down the street with that chubby nerd on the front lawn?”

“Yes, and that chubby nerd is my father.”

Sally put her hands to her mouth, “Oh no.”

“He's not that bad,” Adam said defensively.

“No. I'm not upset about your father's appearance, although you're going to have to watch your diet and the amount of TV you watch as you get older. It's your house that's no good.”

“What's wrong with it? Don't tell me someone was murdered there?”

Sally shook her head. “They weren't murdered.”