through the jar. "I've always wanted to explore a haunted house. Just think, a treasure could be buried in the cellar or something."
"I'm not going inside, and I don't think you should either. The walls are about to fall down."
"You are a scaredy-cat, you know that?" Michael waved the jar at me, and I jumped away. "Bugs, graveyards, old houses—you're scared of everything."
Before I could come back with a good retort, Mom stepped out on the back porch. "Dinner's ready, you two," she called.
As usual, Mom and Dave did most of the talking, but as we were finishing our dessert, Dave turned to Heather and said, "I hear that you and Molly discovered an old house in the woods."
Heather shot me a nasty look and nodded her head. "I found it, not Molly," she mumbled, her mouth full of cake.
"Well, it sounds like a dangerous place to play. How about you girls staying a little closer to the church?"
Heather shrugged her shoulders. "It's not dangerous. It's pretty." She gave her father one of her rare smiles. "You know how Molly is. She thinks everything is dangerous."
Dave laughed and Mom smiled. "She has a point there," he said to Mom.
"Well, it looks like it's going to fall down," I said, "and the pond is deep."
"So?" Heather stared at me. "I know how to swim. Nothing's going to happen to me there."
"Maybe we'll all take a walk and see it one day," Mom said, smiling at Heather and me. "In the meantime, though, why don't you play here?"
Heather hid her face behind her glass of milk, and I noticed a little bulge under her tee shirt. "How about the locket?" I asked her. "Did you tell your father about that?"
"What locket, honey?" Dave leaned across the table toward her, but Heather shrank away from him, her hand covering the bump the locket made under her shirt.
"It's just this old thing." She pulled the chain out of her shirt and held up a tarnished heart. "I found it in the weeds by the pond."
Michael looked at me, his eyebrows raised. I knew what he was thinking—poor old Molly, taken in again.
"Well, isn't that nice?" Dave smiled at Heather. "I bet Jean could polish it up so it would look like new."
Mom reached for the locket, but Heather dropped it back down inside her shirt. "I like it just the way it is," she said.
"Does it open?" Mom asked. "People used to keep pictures or locks of hair in those."
Heather shook her head. "It's bent, so it won't open anymore."
"Can I have another piece of cake?" Michael asked, and dinner went on, without any more comments about the house or the locket.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I saw were gray clouds and dripping leaves. It had rained hard during the night, and it looked like more showers were on the way. As I pulled on my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I told myself that I wouldn't have to take Michael to the house after all. Even he wouldn't want to go walking through wet grass and muddy fields.
But I was wrong. He was waiting for me at the kitchen table, the remains of his breakfast in front of him, his windbreaker on the back of the chair. "I thought you were going to sleep all day," he said accusingly.
"It's going to rain, Michael. You don't still want to go, do you?"
"The weather forecast says there's only a thirty percent chance of showers," he said. "You aren't scared of getting wet, too?"
I scowled at him as I poured milk on my cereal. "Where's Heather?"
"Beats me." He grinned at me. "Maybe she's gone on ahead to tell Helen we're coming."
"Very funny." I ate my cereal in silence while he read the comics. After washing the dishes, I pulled on my windbreaker and followed him outside. "We take the path down to the cow pasture, cross the creek, and go through the woods," I told him.
In silence, we waded through the water, higher now because of the rain. The cows watched us mournfully from the other side of the fence. One of them made a little snorting sound and ran clumsily up the hill away from us, and the others followed more
"I'm not going inside, and I don't think you should either. The walls are about to fall down."
"You are a scaredy-cat, you know that?" Michael waved the jar at me, and I jumped away. "Bugs, graveyards, old houses—you're scared of everything."
Before I could come back with a good retort, Mom stepped out on the back porch. "Dinner's ready, you two," she called.
As usual, Mom and Dave did most of the talking, but as we were finishing our dessert, Dave turned to Heather and said, "I hear that you and Molly discovered an old house in the woods."
Heather shot me a nasty look and nodded her head. "I found it, not Molly," she mumbled, her mouth full of cake.
"Well, it sounds like a dangerous place to play. How about you girls staying a little closer to the church?"
Heather shrugged her shoulders. "It's not dangerous. It's pretty." She gave her father one of her rare smiles. "You know how Molly is. She thinks everything is dangerous."
Dave laughed and Mom smiled. "She has a point there," he said to Mom.
"Well, it looks like it's going to fall down," I said, "and the pond is deep."
"So?" Heather stared at me. "I know how to swim. Nothing's going to happen to me there."
"Maybe we'll all take a walk and see it one day," Mom said, smiling at Heather and me. "In the meantime, though, why don't you play here?"
Heather hid her face behind her glass of milk, and I noticed a little bulge under her tee shirt. "How about the locket?" I asked her. "Did you tell your father about that?"
"What locket, honey?" Dave leaned across the table toward her, but Heather shrank away from him, her hand covering the bump the locket made under her shirt.
"It's just this old thing." She pulled the chain out of her shirt and held up a tarnished heart. "I found it in the weeds by the pond."
Michael looked at me, his eyebrows raised. I knew what he was thinking—poor old Molly, taken in again.
"Well, isn't that nice?" Dave smiled at Heather. "I bet Jean could polish it up so it would look like new."
Mom reached for the locket, but Heather dropped it back down inside her shirt. "I like it just the way it is," she said.
"Does it open?" Mom asked. "People used to keep pictures or locks of hair in those."
Heather shook her head. "It's bent, so it won't open anymore."
"Can I have another piece of cake?" Michael asked, and dinner went on, without any more comments about the house or the locket.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I saw were gray clouds and dripping leaves. It had rained hard during the night, and it looked like more showers were on the way. As I pulled on my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I told myself that I wouldn't have to take Michael to the house after all. Even he wouldn't want to go walking through wet grass and muddy fields.
But I was wrong. He was waiting for me at the kitchen table, the remains of his breakfast in front of him, his windbreaker on the back of the chair. "I thought you were going to sleep all day," he said accusingly.
"It's going to rain, Michael. You don't still want to go, do you?"
"The weather forecast says there's only a thirty percent chance of showers," he said. "You aren't scared of getting wet, too?"
I scowled at him as I poured milk on my cereal. "Where's Heather?"
"Beats me." He grinned at me. "Maybe she's gone on ahead to tell Helen we're coming."
"Very funny." I ate my cereal in silence while he read the comics. After washing the dishes, I pulled on my windbreaker and followed him outside. "We take the path down to the cow pasture, cross the creek, and go through the woods," I told him.
In silence, we waded through the water, higher now because of the rain. The cows watched us mournfully from the other side of the fence. One of them made a little snorting sound and ran clumsily up the hill away from us, and the others followed more
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