Free A Summer of Sundays by Lindsay Eland Page B

There’s also a curse around his house. Anything that goes over the bushes into his yard”—he paused and glanced around, lowering his voice—“never comes out again. Balls, shoes … kids. I hear he even eats raw meat.”
    “You don’t really believe that stuff.” I laughed.
    Jude stopped, grabbed my arm. “Sure I do. And you should, too. That is if you want to make it back to your own town at the end of the summer. He hates kids and every kind of animal. His basement is like a dungeon, damp and dark with rats and spiders. Terrance says that’s where he keeps and tortures the people who’ve trespassed.”
    “How does Terrance Von know if he can’t go onto his property because of the curse?”
    Jude continued walking. “How should I know? But he doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would lie.”
    I stared down the sidewalk, watching the old man disappear around the corner.
    “So, is he like a hermit?” I asked.
    “Sort of, I guess. He does come out every now and then, but mostly I think he just hides away in his house plotting evil and burying the bones of the cats he’s eaten in his garden.”
    That sounded kind of hermitish to me. “Or maybe he sits inside and writes? I’ve heard that sometimes writershide themselves away in their houses while they tap away on their computers. Do you think he could have written the story that I found?”
    Jude grabbed my arm and stopped. “Does the story have murder or torture in it?”
    I shook my head. “Not so far.”
    He released my arm and started walking again. “Then no. He couldn’t’ve written it. Besides, I doubt he has ever set foot in the library.”
    “Well, maybe that’s what I need to do to make my mark: befriend the local hermit and bring him out of hiding.” I would be like Mary Lennox in
The Secret Garden
. The idea made my heart thump with excitement and my skin crawl with fear.
    Jude stopped again, pulling my arm harder this time. “No way, Sunday Fowler,” he whispered, as if saying it too loud was dangerous. “You need to stay as far away from Ben Folger and his house as you can. And you should tell your brothers and sisters to stay away, too.”
    “If I told my brothers to keep clear, they would be knocking on his door before I even finished my sentence.”

DESPITE Jude’s warning, I couldn’t get old Ben Folger out of my head the rest of that day or the next.
    If Ben Folger really was a hermit, then bringing him out of his shell after years of hiding away would be a big deal. Everyone would want to know how I did it.
    Or maybe he really did torture intruders in his basement. If I was able to prove that, I would be responsible for putting him behind bars and saving the entire town!
    T WELVE-YEAR-OLD HERO SAVES US ALL!
    It didn’t seem like I could lose … well, unless he captured and tortured me.
    I pushed that thought out of my mind and pictured my mom wrapping me in a big hug, and my dad proudly ruffling my hair as reporters interviewed me. “We’re so proud of you, Sunday,” my parents would say. “Our daughter, the hero.”
    A knock at my door startled me. After tucking the pages of the manuscript underneath my pillow, Iopened
The Mystery at Lilac Inn
and pretended to read. “Come in.”
    The door creaked open and there was Bo, standing in the dark stairway.
    I set the book down. I hadn’t seen him much since this morning, and the sight of his messed-up hair, small bare feet, and dump-truck pajamas made me smile. “Bo? What are you doing still up?”
    He rubbed his eyes and wrapped his blanket around his head. “CJ is snoring so loud I can’t stand it, and Mom told me that unless I’m bleeding I can’t come into her room ’cause Henry’ll wake up.”
    I scooted over and flung back the covers. He grinned and dove in beside me, squinting his eyes closed, though I knew it would be a while before he fell asleep. I picked up the book and skimmed through the words. I was glad he was tucked in next to me, but there