Free Nightmare Hour by R. L. Stine Page B

people say that the little girl’s ghost has haunted this basement ever since.”
    I stared at Cal openmouthed. I didn’t know what to say. Such a horrifying story. But what did it have to do with the four kids I saw? And why did Cal look exactly the same as he had all those years ago?
    â€œHope I didn’t scare you,” Cal said, snapping his toolbox shut. “It’s just a story.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” I told him. “But…didn’t anything else horrible happen down here?”
    He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope. Can’t think of anything.” He tapped the furnace. “I’ve got to replace that pipe down there. Tell your dad I’ll come back tomorrow.”
    I followed him upstairs and closed the front door after him. Then I hurried to phone my friends and tell them everything that had happened.
    Â 
    The next afternoon the four of us huddled in my livingroom. No one was eager to go down to the basement.
    â€œThat old guy from a hundred years ago was in your house?” Valerie asked, shuddering. “You let him in?”
    â€œI had no choice,” I explained. “He pushed his way in. He said he came to fix the furnace. He’s coming back today.”
    â€œWe can’t go back down there,” Bill said, motioning to the basement door. “We have to find a new place to hang out.”
    â€œWe have to go down there,” I insisted. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I think I’ve figured out part of it.”
    â€œFigured out what? ” Bill asked.
    â€œWhy we’re seeing those four kids,” I replied. “I think they need our help. If we can warn them somehow about the ceiling, they won’t have to die that horrible death.”
    â€œBut Robb--they can’t see us or hear us!” Julie protested. “So how can we warn them?”
    â€œThere’s got to be a way,” I insisted. “We’ve got to find a way to communicate with them.” I jumped to my feet. “Come on. We can save them. I know we can.”
    I practically had to force my friends down the stairs. When we reached the basement, all four of us stopped. And listened.
    I heard a slow, soft scrape scrape scrape from the far corner.
    Footsteps?
    Scrape scrape…
    Louder now.
    â€œThe ghost of the little girl!” Valerie cried.
    â€œOh, no!” My breath caught in my throat. I took a step toward the sound….
    And saw Cal pop his head out from behind the furnace.He clamped the wrench on a pipe. As he turned the wrench, it made the scraping sound. “Hope I didn’t startle you,” he called.
    He put down the wrench and crossed the room to us. He was wearing the same outfit as the night before, baggy denim overalls and a red shirt.
    How did he get down here? I wondered, feeling a chill. How did he get in the house?
    â€œI’ve got to go buy a valve,” he told me, frowning. “Be back in an hour or so.”
    He motioned for me to follow him to the steps. “I feel bad about last night,” he whispered. “That story about the little girl? I just made it up. You looked like you wanted to hear a scary story, so--”
    â€œMade it up?” I cried.
    He nodded. “Making up stories is sort of a hobby of mine. I enjoy telling tales. Maybe I’ll put you in a scary story someday.” He winked at me.
    I watched him disappear up the basement stairs. I felt more confused than ever. Had he really made up that story? I turned back to my friends.
    Bill handed me the black mask. “What are we going to do?” he asked.
    â€œTry to reach those kids somehow,” I said. “Try to warn them.”
    I pulled on the mask and adjusted the holes over my eyes. Yes! There they were. The four old-fashioned kids, down on the floor, sitting around that board game.
    â€œWhat are your names?” I shouted. “Hello? Can youhear me? What are your