our house again, get into the basement, and see if there was a hole. And I had to climb down the hole with a flashlight and see if it really went down hundreds of feet and had extinct animal bones in the walls. There was no other way. I had to see for myself, even if the birdfrogs got me. I’d be willing to brave the birdfrogs, for the sake of my grandmother’s honor.
The whole plan came to me as I lay in the dark. It was very simple. The Whingles’ attic connected to my grandmother’s attic. All the attics in the row were connected. If I snuck up into the attic, I could get across to my grandmother’s house. My grandmother had nailed boards over the trap door, but maybe if I pushed hard enough, or hammered with old pieces of furniture, I could get through. The boards were meant to keep out birdfrogs, not humans.
Lots of things might go wrong. Mr. Jubber might already be in the house, and then he would hear me and catch me.
But he might have decided not to spend the night there yet. After all, the house was full of our furniture, not his. He probably would not move in for a day or two. I would have to try to get in as soon as possible, before he moved in, which meant that tonight was the best possible time.
It was amazing how much better I felt, and how much more awake, as soon as I had made up my mind. I didn’t feel happy, of course. I felt sad because of my grandmother. But I felt determined, and there was no trace of a fog on me now. I was ready.
Chapter 12
I Sneak into the Attic
Next to the bed, the glow-in-the-dark clock read 12:30. I couldn’t hear any sounds from inside the house; only the comforting bang of cars driving over the metal plates in the street.
I sat up and pulled off the blankets. There was no question about going in my pajamas. I couldn’t. If I was going to climb down a rocky shaft in the ground, I needed my jeans to help protect me, and my sneakers too. I looked around the guest room in the dark, and saw a blob that might have been a chair. I crept out of bed and snuck across the floor, my hands outstretched, and when I got to the chair I felt over its seat and found my clothes in a pile. I knelt and felt around on the carpet, and found my shoes side by side under the chair. I dressed very slowly. It was better to take extra time and be perfectly quiet, because if I was caught I probably would never get another chance. I might even be sent back to Miss Pointy, and then I would get remediated in some awful way.
When my sneakers were securely tied I crept to the door and turned the doorknob very, very slowly and opened it. Just like in my grandmother’s house, this house had a staircase running up through the middle of it, and I came out of the bedroom onto the small, second-floor landing. A dim light filtered down from above. I think it was a nightlight at the top of the staircase. Dennis’s room was on the second floor, right across from my room. He had taped a sign to the outside of the door; his name was written on the sign in what looked like dead worms glued to the piece of paper.
I was glad the Whingles had carpeted their staircase. I walked up very quietly and slowly. I had to step over three plastic army men lying on the floor. If I had stepped on them, they might have snapped and made a noise, so I made sure to watch the floor carefully. I knew that the third floor would have another bedroom, and when I got to the landing I could see that it was Candy’s room. Her door had a sign printed out on a color printer, full of rainbows and birds and cows dancing around her name. There were no dead worms on her sign.
I walked up the last flight to the fourth floor, and heard Mr. and Mrs. Whingle snoring through the closed door of their bedroom. They were snoring in different keys, and in slightly different rhythms. The trap door to the attic was right outside their bedroom door. It would be almost impossible for me to open the trap without waking them up. But I had to try, because
The whole plan came to me as I lay in the dark. It was very simple. The Whingles’ attic connected to my grandmother’s attic. All the attics in the row were connected. If I snuck up into the attic, I could get across to my grandmother’s house. My grandmother had nailed boards over the trap door, but maybe if I pushed hard enough, or hammered with old pieces of furniture, I could get through. The boards were meant to keep out birdfrogs, not humans.
Lots of things might go wrong. Mr. Jubber might already be in the house, and then he would hear me and catch me.
But he might have decided not to spend the night there yet. After all, the house was full of our furniture, not his. He probably would not move in for a day or two. I would have to try to get in as soon as possible, before he moved in, which meant that tonight was the best possible time.
It was amazing how much better I felt, and how much more awake, as soon as I had made up my mind. I didn’t feel happy, of course. I felt sad because of my grandmother. But I felt determined, and there was no trace of a fog on me now. I was ready.
Chapter 12
I Sneak into the Attic
Next to the bed, the glow-in-the-dark clock read 12:30. I couldn’t hear any sounds from inside the house; only the comforting bang of cars driving over the metal plates in the street.
I sat up and pulled off the blankets. There was no question about going in my pajamas. I couldn’t. If I was going to climb down a rocky shaft in the ground, I needed my jeans to help protect me, and my sneakers too. I looked around the guest room in the dark, and saw a blob that might have been a chair. I crept out of bed and snuck across the floor, my hands outstretched, and when I got to the chair I felt over its seat and found my clothes in a pile. I knelt and felt around on the carpet, and found my shoes side by side under the chair. I dressed very slowly. It was better to take extra time and be perfectly quiet, because if I was caught I probably would never get another chance. I might even be sent back to Miss Pointy, and then I would get remediated in some awful way.
When my sneakers were securely tied I crept to the door and turned the doorknob very, very slowly and opened it. Just like in my grandmother’s house, this house had a staircase running up through the middle of it, and I came out of the bedroom onto the small, second-floor landing. A dim light filtered down from above. I think it was a nightlight at the top of the staircase. Dennis’s room was on the second floor, right across from my room. He had taped a sign to the outside of the door; his name was written on the sign in what looked like dead worms glued to the piece of paper.
I was glad the Whingles had carpeted their staircase. I walked up very quietly and slowly. I had to step over three plastic army men lying on the floor. If I had stepped on them, they might have snapped and made a noise, so I made sure to watch the floor carefully. I knew that the third floor would have another bedroom, and when I got to the landing I could see that it was Candy’s room. Her door had a sign printed out on a color printer, full of rainbows and birds and cows dancing around her name. There were no dead worms on her sign.
I walked up the last flight to the fourth floor, and heard Mr. and Mrs. Whingle snoring through the closed door of their bedroom. They were snoring in different keys, and in slightly different rhythms. The trap door to the attic was right outside their bedroom door. It would be almost impossible for me to open the trap without waking them up. But I had to try, because
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