Castle's Fortress. Rhonda Lee Carver

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      “But I’m afraid.” Ten-year-old Fall Winters tugged at one long braid, and the corners of her mouth lowered in a pout.

      “I promise I won’t let nothin’ happen to you, Fall,” Jake Castle declared with a proud tilt of his chin. “I can keep you safe. I’m twelve now. I’m grown up.”

      Her head bobbed in a jerky nod. “I trust ’ya, Jake. I know you won’t let a ghost get me.”

      “We gotta do this, Fall. We have to go in and check it out. What if my sister’s in there?”

      With a loud gulp of air, Fall slid her hand into his. Usually, Jake would shrug away in a huff and say, “Girls ain’t cool.” This time, he didn’t say a word, but gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

      Side by side, they ascended the ratty old stairs to the porch of the dilapidated farmhouse. With each careful step, the warped wood gave a loud creak of resistance. The railing had long been broken and the remnants of spindles lay forgotten in the overgrowth of weeds.

      Their reward for making it to the porch should have been their safety, but instead the gaping holes in the slab flooring looked like a minefield. One wrong step and they’d fall into the depths of the dark abyss.

      “Be careful, Fall. The boards are loose,” Jake warned as he gripped her hand tighter.

      “You sure we should be doing this?” Fall dug her tattered, two-sizes too big Converse sneakers into the weathered gray boards. It didn’t do any good. Jake dragged her anyway.

      “We can’t stop now.” His voice cut through the shadows. “If you ain’t brave enough then turn around and go back home. I’m stayin’ and checkin’ things out.”

      Fall glanced over her shoulder at her creepy surroundings. The sky started to turn a purplish haze and the crickets sang a warning that night had fallen. Wispy clouds streaked across the full moon and pale beauty of the sky.

      She debated the alternative.

      Going home would mean walking the country road back into town alone. Forget that. She’d stay and show Jake she wasn’t a yellow-belly afraid of some dumb house.

      “I’m staying.” Her teeth buried into her bottom lip as fear penetrated every layer of her skin. Feeling a strong urge to pee, she squeezed her inner thighs together and looked around. All she could see was darkness. The only place nearby was the tall grass. She’d rather go in her jean overalls than take the risk of squatting in the weeds. She didn’t like snakes.

      “Let’s go in. It’s getting late.” Jake dug into his back pocket and pulled out the small plastic flashlight he’d gotten out of a cereal box. He clicked it on as he crossed the threshold. Fall followed close behind.

      The house hadn’t been occupied in forever and the horrible smell made Fall grimace. The stink reminded her of the pond she and Jake had fished in all summer. They’d sit along the bank and plug their noses with clothespins as they cast homemade fishing lines. They had never caught a fish, but they didn’t care. Jake said he liked it because real men fished. She enjoyed it just to be with Jake. She’d do almost anything as long as Jake hung out with her. Like the time he’d talked her into egging old man Willard’s house. Egging a house wasn’t fun for her, but Jake sure had found it funny. He had laughed all the way home.

      She got another whiff of a pungent odor. “It smells,” Fall grumbled while squeezing her nose with the index finger and thumb of her free hand. The other still was clamped tightly in Jake’s.

      “It’s supposed to stink, Fall. It’s an old house. It ain’t any worse than Old Hickson’s farm with all the cow poop. You don’t complain there. Try not to breathe too much and you’ll get used to it.” Jake flashed the dim light around the entrance of the house. Cobwebs stretched from one corner to the other in waves of silken curtains. Reaching up, he dragged his hand through the middle and flicked the threads from his fingers.

      Fall scooted closer to Jake. Jake was skinnier than a broomstick, but he still towered over her, making her feel safe. “Yuck. I don’t like spiders.”

      He rolled his green eyes upward. “You big baby.” He swiped a hand over his buzz cut as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

      “I ain’t a baby!” She hated when Jake called her names. “You’re mean.” She stepped away and stuck her tongue out at him.

      He moved forward and the floor made weird popping sounds beneath his feet. She snuck up close to him again and together they inched through the otherwise eerily quiet room.

      Fall looked around at the vacant place. No furniture, no pictures, nothing. A mouse snuck back into its hole in the wall and she shivered. “I remember Mom saying the family moved a long time ago and anything left behind was taken out back and burned.” She sniffed loudly. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to burn someone’s furniture. Mom said people were afraid and wanted to get rid of everything.”

      “That’s because they believed ghosts lingered here because their stuff was still around.” He stopped and sighed. “It’s empty.”

      “I told you we wouldn’t find anything. Let’s get outta here.” She tugged on his hand, but he stayed rooted to the spot.

      “We haven’t looked upstairs yet. Stop naggin’ and whinin’ and follow me.” He shot her a pinched expression.

      She brushed off his bossiness with a flip of her long braid over one shoulder. “One day, Jake Castle, you will worship the ground I walk on.”

      His eyes widened and he shook his head. “Where’d you hear that from?”

      She snorted. “Crystal told me that.”

      He didn’t say another word.

      Fall gave up on pestering him. Once Jake made his mind up to do something, she knew there was no stopping him. However, that didn’t mean she had to like it.

      She backed up, kicking something with her foot.

      Jake bent and picked up the broken piece of glass, holding it up. СКАЧАТЬ