trying to decide if I was telling the truth. I felt a
laugh about to explode inside me. But somehow I kept a straight face.
The bell rang.
“We’re late!” Arjun cried.
The three of us bolted down the hall to the room. We dove into our seats two
seconds before Mr. Shein walked in.
Don’t ask me what we talked about all morning. I didn’t hear a word.
I was thinking hard, thinking about Sean and Arjun. What was I going to tell
them tomorrow when they asked to see the werewolf photos?
Would I have to confess that I lied to them?
No, I decided. I had a better plan.
“I’m going to sneak out tonight and take pictures of the Marlings’ house,” I
whispered into the phone.
“Huh? Alex? Why are you whispering?” Hannah’s voice rang shrilly in my ear.
I was whispering because my aunt and uncle had only one telephone. An
old-fashioned black phone set on a table in the living room. And the two of them
were in the next room preparing dinner. I could see them from the armchair I
slumped in.
“Hannah, I’m going to hide at the side of the house,” I whispered. “And I’m
going to snap some pictures of whoever—or whatever—jumps out of that bedroom
window tonight.”
“Do you have a sore throat or something?” Hannah demanded. “I can’t hear you,
Alex.”
I opened my mouth to repeat what I’d said—but Aunt Marta entered the room.
“Dinner is ready, Alex. Who are you talking to?” she asked.
“Hannah,” I told my aunt. “I’ve got to go,” I said into the phone. “Talk to you later.” I hung up the receiver.
I hoped that maybe Hannah might want to sneak out at midnight and keep me
company. I’ll have to ask her later, I decided.
Yawning, pretending to be very sleepy, I went to my room a little after ten
o’clock. A few minutes later, I heard the lock click outside my door. My aunt or
uncle had locked me in again.
But this time, I fooled them. This time, I was prepared.
Before dinner, I’d jammed a wad of bubblegum into the latch. The door wasn’t
really closed.
Once again, I pulled on an extra sweater. And checked out my camera. And
waited, gazing at the bed-table clock.
Just before midnight, I swung the camera case over my shoulder. Slid the
bedroom door open easily. And crept out of the house, under the white light of
the moon, ready to solve the mystery of the Marlings.
21
I cast a quick glance at the Marlings’ house. Then I turned away and trotted
across the wet grass to Hannah’s house.
No lights were on. The storm door in back hadn’t been shut. The wind made it
swing open, as if inviting me in.
But I made my way up to Hannah’s bedroom window on the other side of the
house. Silver moonlight washed over the glass, making it reflect the trees like
a mirror.
I couldn’t see inside. But the window was open a few inches.
“Hannah—?” I called in a loud whisper. “Hannah—are you awake?”
I heard someone stirring inside. The curtains shifted. “Who’s there?” Hannah
called out sleepily.
“It’s me!” I whispered, standing on tiptoe. “It’s Alex. Come to the window.”
“Alex? What are you doing out there?” she demanded.
“I’m going to take photos of the Marlings,” I told her. “Come out with me,
Hannah.”
“Huh? Photos?” she called out. “But it’s so late, Alex. I was asleep, and—”
“Every night I hear howls from their house,” I told her. “And then someone—or something—jumps out of their bedroom window and runs into the woods. My
uncle says it’s their dogs, but—”
“I told you,” she interrupted. “The Marlings don’t have dogs. They’re
werewolves. I know you don’t believe me. But it’s true. Your aunt and uncle know
it’s true. But they don’t want you to be scared.”
“That’s why I want to take photos,” I explained. “I mean, I could be the
first person in the world to get a werewolf on film! Get dressed, Hannah.
Come on!” I pleaded. “I want you to see
laugh about to explode inside me. But somehow I kept a straight face.
The bell rang.
“We’re late!” Arjun cried.
The three of us bolted down the hall to the room. We dove into our seats two
seconds before Mr. Shein walked in.
Don’t ask me what we talked about all morning. I didn’t hear a word.
I was thinking hard, thinking about Sean and Arjun. What was I going to tell
them tomorrow when they asked to see the werewolf photos?
Would I have to confess that I lied to them?
No, I decided. I had a better plan.
“I’m going to sneak out tonight and take pictures of the Marlings’ house,” I
whispered into the phone.
“Huh? Alex? Why are you whispering?” Hannah’s voice rang shrilly in my ear.
I was whispering because my aunt and uncle had only one telephone. An
old-fashioned black phone set on a table in the living room. And the two of them
were in the next room preparing dinner. I could see them from the armchair I
slumped in.
“Hannah, I’m going to hide at the side of the house,” I whispered. “And I’m
going to snap some pictures of whoever—or whatever—jumps out of that bedroom
window tonight.”
“Do you have a sore throat or something?” Hannah demanded. “I can’t hear you,
Alex.”
I opened my mouth to repeat what I’d said—but Aunt Marta entered the room.
“Dinner is ready, Alex. Who are you talking to?” she asked.
“Hannah,” I told my aunt. “I’ve got to go,” I said into the phone. “Talk to you later.” I hung up the receiver.
I hoped that maybe Hannah might want to sneak out at midnight and keep me
company. I’ll have to ask her later, I decided.
Yawning, pretending to be very sleepy, I went to my room a little after ten
o’clock. A few minutes later, I heard the lock click outside my door. My aunt or
uncle had locked me in again.
But this time, I fooled them. This time, I was prepared.
Before dinner, I’d jammed a wad of bubblegum into the latch. The door wasn’t
really closed.
Once again, I pulled on an extra sweater. And checked out my camera. And
waited, gazing at the bed-table clock.
Just before midnight, I swung the camera case over my shoulder. Slid the
bedroom door open easily. And crept out of the house, under the white light of
the moon, ready to solve the mystery of the Marlings.
21
I cast a quick glance at the Marlings’ house. Then I turned away and trotted
across the wet grass to Hannah’s house.
No lights were on. The storm door in back hadn’t been shut. The wind made it
swing open, as if inviting me in.
But I made my way up to Hannah’s bedroom window on the other side of the
house. Silver moonlight washed over the glass, making it reflect the trees like
a mirror.
I couldn’t see inside. But the window was open a few inches.
“Hannah—?” I called in a loud whisper. “Hannah—are you awake?”
I heard someone stirring inside. The curtains shifted. “Who’s there?” Hannah
called out sleepily.
“It’s me!” I whispered, standing on tiptoe. “It’s Alex. Come to the window.”
“Alex? What are you doing out there?” she demanded.
“I’m going to take photos of the Marlings,” I told her. “Come out with me,
Hannah.”
“Huh? Photos?” she called out. “But it’s so late, Alex. I was asleep, and—”
“Every night I hear howls from their house,” I told her. “And then someone—or something—jumps out of their bedroom window and runs into the woods. My
uncle says it’s their dogs, but—”
“I told you,” she interrupted. “The Marlings don’t have dogs. They’re
werewolves. I know you don’t believe me. But it’s true. Your aunt and uncle know
it’s true. But they don’t want you to be scared.”
“That’s why I want to take photos,” I explained. “I mean, I could be the
first person in the world to get a werewolf on film! Get dressed, Hannah.
Come on!” I pleaded. “I want you to see
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