“I’d almost given up on you.”
“I’m sorry,” Kit said. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I overslept this morning.”
It was hard to think of this handsome young man as a teacher. He appeared hardly older than the boys she had hung out with
in public school, and his dark good looks made him far more attractive than the best of them. Still, there was a quality of
reserve about him that made communication difficult, and Kit, who was usually as comfortable with boys as she was with girls,
found herself fighting a vague feeling of unease in his presence.
“Have you been practicing?” Jules asked now. “Sit down and let me hear how far you’ve come. Let’s warm up with some scales
before we get to the actual pieces.”
Kit obediently took her place on the piano bench. She placed her hands on the keys. To her surprise, she found that her fingers
were stiff and sore, as though she had already been playing for hours.
“Jules?” she said.
“Yes.”
“I—I just don’t think I want to play this morning.” Kit took her hands from the keys and let them fall into her lap. I’m tired, she thought, I’m so terribly tired, and I’m scared, and I need somebody to talk to. I need a friend .
She raised her eyes to meet the dark, intense gaze of the young man across from her. Was Jules Duret a friend? For all she
knew, he might not even like her. Yet who else was there to talk to? Sandy was as upset as she was, and Lynda and Ruth were
no help.
“Can we talk for a few minutes,” she asked in a thin voice, “instead of having a lesson?”
“Talk?” Jules’ eyes seemed to narrow slightly. “About what?”
“Blackwood.”
“What about Blackwood?”
“I don’t know,” Kit said. “That’s just it—I don’t know. There’s something odd about Blackwood, something sinister. All of
us feel it, but it’s almost impossible to put it into words. Things have been happening.”
“What do you mean?” Jules asked with interest.
“Well, for one thing, we’ve all been having dreams. Sandy dreamed last night that someone was in her room. She cried out,
and I heard her and went down the hall to find out what was wrong. Her door was locked.”
“It couldn’t have been,” Jules said. “The doors don’t lock from the inside.”
“Why don’t they?” Kit asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that. Why don’t they lock from the inside the way other doors do? Your mother said that she’d had the locks put on the
doors to assure us of privacy, but how can you have privacy if you can’t lock up when you’re in a room?”
“You can lock up when you go out of a room,” Jules said. “So that no one can get into your things while you’re gone.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Kit said. “I bet all the other girls will have laptops too, and other than that, I don’t have
anything sitting around in there valuable enough for someone to want to steal. But I would like to be able to lock the door when I’m inside. And last night, Sandy’s door was locked. I tried the knob. And then, suddenly, it did come open as though somebody had released it.”
“Then it wasn’t locked,” Jules said with certainty. “It must just have been stuck. I’ll see about putting some oil on those
latches. Which room did you say it was?”
Kit regarded him with frustration. “Weren’t you listening at all? I’m not asking you to oil Sandy’s lock. What I’m trying
to tell you is that something weird is happening here at Blackwood. There was somebody in Sandy’s room last night. A woman.
I know it sounds crazy, but Sandy saw her with her own eyes!”
“She was dreaming,” Jules said. “You just finished saying yourself that all of you are doing a lot of that. It’s nothing to
be concerned about. It often happens to people who are away from home for the first time, under the strain of meeting new
people and adjusting to new surroundings.”
He paused, and
“I’m sorry,” Kit said. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I overslept this morning.”
It was hard to think of this handsome young man as a teacher. He appeared hardly older than the boys she had hung out with
in public school, and his dark good looks made him far more attractive than the best of them. Still, there was a quality of
reserve about him that made communication difficult, and Kit, who was usually as comfortable with boys as she was with girls,
found herself fighting a vague feeling of unease in his presence.
“Have you been practicing?” Jules asked now. “Sit down and let me hear how far you’ve come. Let’s warm up with some scales
before we get to the actual pieces.”
Kit obediently took her place on the piano bench. She placed her hands on the keys. To her surprise, she found that her fingers
were stiff and sore, as though she had already been playing for hours.
“Jules?” she said.
“Yes.”
“I—I just don’t think I want to play this morning.” Kit took her hands from the keys and let them fall into her lap. I’m tired, she thought, I’m so terribly tired, and I’m scared, and I need somebody to talk to. I need a friend .
She raised her eyes to meet the dark, intense gaze of the young man across from her. Was Jules Duret a friend? For all she
knew, he might not even like her. Yet who else was there to talk to? Sandy was as upset as she was, and Lynda and Ruth were
no help.
“Can we talk for a few minutes,” she asked in a thin voice, “instead of having a lesson?”
“Talk?” Jules’ eyes seemed to narrow slightly. “About what?”
“Blackwood.”
“What about Blackwood?”
“I don’t know,” Kit said. “That’s just it—I don’t know. There’s something odd about Blackwood, something sinister. All of
us feel it, but it’s almost impossible to put it into words. Things have been happening.”
“What do you mean?” Jules asked with interest.
“Well, for one thing, we’ve all been having dreams. Sandy dreamed last night that someone was in her room. She cried out,
and I heard her and went down the hall to find out what was wrong. Her door was locked.”
“It couldn’t have been,” Jules said. “The doors don’t lock from the inside.”
“Why don’t they?” Kit asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that. Why don’t they lock from the inside the way other doors do? Your mother said that she’d had the locks put on the
doors to assure us of privacy, but how can you have privacy if you can’t lock up when you’re in a room?”
“You can lock up when you go out of a room,” Jules said. “So that no one can get into your things while you’re gone.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Kit said. “I bet all the other girls will have laptops too, and other than that, I don’t have
anything sitting around in there valuable enough for someone to want to steal. But I would like to be able to lock the door when I’m inside. And last night, Sandy’s door was locked. I tried the knob. And then, suddenly, it did come open as though somebody had released it.”
“Then it wasn’t locked,” Jules said with certainty. “It must just have been stuck. I’ll see about putting some oil on those
latches. Which room did you say it was?”
Kit regarded him with frustration. “Weren’t you listening at all? I’m not asking you to oil Sandy’s lock. What I’m trying
to tell you is that something weird is happening here at Blackwood. There was somebody in Sandy’s room last night. A woman.
I know it sounds crazy, but Sandy saw her with her own eyes!”
“She was dreaming,” Jules said. “You just finished saying yourself that all of you are doing a lot of that. It’s nothing to
be concerned about. It often happens to people who are away from home for the first time, under the strain of meeting new
people and adjusting to new surroundings.”
He paused, and
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