Scaredy Kat by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel Page A

in the clouds, illuminating the drenched landscape
     in celestial light. Tank’s house stood silently. From the safety of my bedroom, I could detect no movement or energy inside.
     The house itself seemed solid and almost friendly, the way really old houses sometimes do.
    “Okay, got something,” Jac said ex-citedly.
    I reached her chair in two huge steps.
    “Where? What?”
    Jac pointed to an article.
    “I found a couple listings for your van Hechts that were dated three years ago. There was some kind of traffic accident.”
    “Tank was in a traffic accident?” I asked.
    Jac scrolled down the page.
    “His brother was. Listen: ‘On Wednesday evening Julius van Hecht, son of Greta and Theodore van Hecht of Seth Avenue, was
     struck by a car while riding his bicycle. Witnesses recount that the car, which fled from the scene, had driven through a
     stop sign. Julius suffered severe head injuries and was airlifted to Philips Memorial Hospital, where he remains in critical
     condition.’”
    I tried to ignore the disturbing visual image of a little boy being struck by a speeding car from my mind.
    “Well, this house is on Seth Avenue, and there’s only one stop sign. It’s just one block up, where you turn to get to the
     bus stop. That must be where it happened. What else does it say?”
    “Nothing much, but let me check the next article. It was written a few days later. It’s shorter. It just says that Julius
     remains in a coma at Philips Memorial, and that the police are looking for the driver of the car that hit him.”
    So the van Hechts had experienced two tragedies. Julius had been hit by a car and fallen into a coma. And at some point, Tank
     had died.
    “Okay, here’s the last article I found. It was written on the one-year anniversary of the accident. It says that Julius is
     still in a coma, and that the doctors are uncertain whether he will ever recover. And it also says that the van Hechts moved
     from their house on Seth Avenue and took an apartment over in Robertstown to be closer to the hospital. And that the mom still
     sits with Julius every day, and talks to him. They never caught the guy who did it.”
    “No wonder they left,” I said, staring in the direction of the van Hecht house. “Can you imagine losing two children?”
    “They didn’t lose Julius,” Jac said. “I mean, he’s still alive.”
    “You think he still is? Lying in a coma in that hospital?”
    “No other articles came up,” Jac said.
    “Maybe Tank died after they moved away,” I mused. “If he died in Robertstown that would explain why it didn’t show up in our
     local paper.”
    “And he’s come home. To the house he grew up in,” Jac said.
    I nodded.
    “Geez. This is depressing me.”
    “Think how I must feel, Jac. I’m surrounded by dead people.”
    Jac looked at me sympathetically. Then she looked at the space above my head, like she was trying to get a glimpse of a spirit
     orb.
    “I could take another picture of you,” Jac said. “We could see how many orbs show up now.”
    “I’d really rather not,” I said.
    “Well, let’s walk down the block, then,” Jac suggested. “The sun’s finally out. Maybe if we go to that stop sign, you’ll pick
     up something more about the van Hechts. You know, maybe Tank was even there when it happened. Maybe the accident is what’s
     keeping him in the house. He could feel responsible, or something.”
    Jac was getting better and better at this ghost hunting game. It was a good suggestion. The thought of looking for the place
     where Julius’s accident had occurred gave me the creeps, but I had to move on with Tank’s story or I wouldn’t be able to help
     him. The only lead we had on Tank was what happened to Julius. Once again, Jac seemed to know the best thing to do.
    “Okay,” I said. “Let’s take Max. He’s already traumatized from the storm.”
    Max had gotten off my bed and was standing by my bedroom door. I had grown accustomed to Max