Free The Summer of Moonlight Secrets by Danette Haworth

Run! Run! I tell myself, but I’m rooted to the spot.
    Huge fish jump out and splash down, one after the other; then, across the darkness on the concrete, I can just make out small, leaping shapes. The frogs! They’re jumping, making their way around the pad as if they’re following something.
    Then I see it, the thing they’re following, a big thing. It bobs up for a second, but in the moonlight, I only make out the dark shimmer of its head.
    I gasp loudly.
    Everything stops. The frogs scuttle into the grass, the fish glide underwater, and the springs settle down to a gentle murmur. Within seconds, the crickets begin their chirping, joined by the frogs and their deep voices.
    I can’t believe what I’ve seen. I pore over the water, which is now calm except for the gentle boil from the springhead. I stare, trying to figure out what just happened.
    Then a moonbeam hits a glistening shape emerging from the water. My eyes hollow out. My heart hammers against my ribs. I scream, but all that comes out is a horrible rasp. Long, black tendrils, water rolling right off them—it’s some kind of creature! My feet run, but all I’m doing is jogging in place.
    â€œAllie Jo,” the shape says, then parts its hair. “Don’t be scared—it’s only me.”
    My mouth drops open. My heart still hammers, but it slows as she approaches and I see it’s her. It’s really her— Tara .

23
    Chase

    I stare at the full moon from our hotel room.
    â€œClose those blinds, will you, Chase?” Fresh out of his shower, Dad rummages through the hotel dresser for clean clothes.
    When I was little and we drove places, I thought the moon followed us; it was always there, no matter which way Dad turned the car. I didn’t know how that was possible.
    Then, when he started traveling, he’d call us at night, Aunt Sheila and me. When it was my turn to talk, he told me to look out the window. Are you looking at the moon? he’d ask. I’d nod, cupping the phone. I am too , he’d say. That seemed like magic, like it was connecting us.
    I wonder if Mom is looking at it.
    But that’s just a silly kid thing. I snap the blinds shut and plop onto my bed. “What do you want to do?”
    â€œNothing.” He pulls exercise shorts over his boxers. “I’m pretty wiped out.” He stretches out on his bed, aims the remote. “Let’s see what’s on TV.”
    My shoulders sink. I pace from the windows across to the door, stopping to read the evacuation plan. Got it. Don’t use the elevators. Use the stairs. I march back to the windows, back to the door, back to the windows, back to the—
    â€œChase!”
    I freeze with my arms in midswing.
    He motions with his hand for me to move. “I can’t see the TV with you walking back and forth like that.”
    â€œI thought when we came back we were going to do something.”
    He sighs, hits the Mute button. “Sorry, bud. I can hardly lift this remote.”
    Dropping my arms, I let my whole body sag. “Come on, Dad. At least go with me to the game room.”
    Dad points to the dresser with his remote. “My wallet’s right there.”
    Three fives and a one. He’s buying me off, and I accept the offer. Anything’s better than staying in here and just watching TV.
    Once downstairs, I’m not thinking Pac-Man; I’m thinking ice cream, but the girl is already mopping the floor of the ice-cream parlor. “Try the dining room,” she says. “I think they’re still open.”
    The hallway is dark during the day, but at night it’s downright creepy, the perfect setting for a mystery: Shadows pressed against the walls, holding their secrets close. Who had walked these halls before? The boy strained to see, but the cobwebbed lamps allowed little illumination. The boy hastened his errand.
    I swipe a peppermint from the front of the dining room.