S. E. Schlosser - 1 July

An imprint of Rowman & Littlefield

Distributed by NATIONAL BOOK NETWORK

Copyright 2017 by S. E. Schlosser

Illustrations copyright 2017 Paul G. Hoffman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

ISBN 978-1-4930-2712-5 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-4930-2797-2 (ebook)

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

For my dadDavid Schlosserwho read me stories when I was little.

For my family, who threatened to tar and feather me if I did not mention them all by name: David, Dena, Tim, Arlene, Hannah, Emma, Nathan, Ben, Deb, Gabe, Clare, Jack, Chris, Karen, Davey, and Aunt Millie.

(See, Mom, I told you I would write a book someday.)

For Paul Hoffman and the fabulous folks at Globe Pequot Press, with my thanks.

***

The rain was beating down on the windshield so hard that Elizabeth could hardly see the narrow Cape Cod road on which she was driving. It was nearly midnight. After spending the day sightseeing in Provincetown, she and her sister Patricia had joined acquaintances in the area for a leisurely dinner. It was after ten before they started back to the inn where they were spending their vacation. The storm had blown inland a few minutes after theyd left the restaurant.

The headlights were almost useless against the stormy darkness. A gust of wind made the old Ford shake violently. A flash of lightning briefly lit up the scraggly trees growing close to the road. The crash of thunder that immediately followed made Elizabeth jump.

Maybe we should pull over until the storm lets up, suggested her sister nervously. Elizabeth glanced over, but all she could see of her petite, brunette sister was her silhouette. Patricia had always been frightened by storms.

They were driving along a particularly desolate part of the road. The trees were thick right up to the pavement. The rain and the dim headlights made everything seem spooky.

Id rather wait until we reached someplace more... populated, Elizabeth said.

At that moment the engine gave a violent knocking sound. The car shook with something more than the wind and then stalled right in the middle of the road.

Please say we didnt just break down, said Patricia.

Elizabeth tried to restart the car several times but the engine wouldnt turn over.

Were stuck, Patricia answered herself. What are we going to do?

Well have to find a house and phone someone to give us a tow, her sister said.

Do you want me to wait with the car? Patricia asked in a scared voice. Then the wind gave a giant gust and something slammed into the back windshield. The women both screamed as glass shattered under the weight of a large branch. Wind and rain came whipping into the car through the gaping hole, only partially plugged by the enormous limb.

Are you all right? Elizabeth asked shakily. Her sister nodded. The high seats in the front had protected them from most of the glass. Well, that settles it. We cant stay here with that hole in the back windshield, Elizabeth continued. Well have to find someplace to stay for the night.

Taking a flashlight from under the seat, the two sisters ventured out into the storm. They were immediately soaked to the skin, and the roaring of the wind made talk impossible. After theyd walked for about five minutes, a flash of lightning revealed a waist-high stone wall that surrounded an overgrown lawn. Another flash seconds later showed an old, neglected-looking house set back a little way from the road.

No! Patricia shouted immediately over the wind. We are not going in there.

Do we have a choice? Elizabeth yelled back. Well catch pneumonia if we stay out here any longer!

She hurried up to the wall and walked along it until she came to an iron gate. The gate opened with a high-pitched groan. Elizabeth hesitated. The sound gave her goose bumps. Maybe Patricia was right. Maybe they should look for another place to stay.

Just then a fierce gust of wind drove the rain right into her eyes, and Elizabeth decided she was going to look no farther. She straightened her shoulders and stepped onto the uneven walkway. Behind her, she could hear Patricia grumbling as she followed.

Elizabeth walked boldly up onto the small front porch and paused before the large, dark door. The house was even creepier close up. Paint was peeling off the door frame, and the boards below her feet felt warped. Still, the porch offered some shelter from the wind and the rain.

I dont think anyone lives here, Patricia said into her ear.

Elizabeth rang the old-fashioned doorbell. She could hear the sound echo through the house, but no one answered. She rang again. Still no answer. Elizabeth went around the side of the house toward a rain-streaked, cracked window. One of the shutters was hanging loose, banging against the side of the house in a forlorn manner. Elizabeth stopped it with her hand as she looked in the window. She could see a large room full of books. It looked like a library. The dust lay heavy over everything.

A perfect vacation spot, Patricia yelled sarcastically from behind her.

At least its out of the wind and the rain, Elizabeth replied seriously. We can get the blankets from the trunk of the car, and there may be wood inside for a fire. Why dont you stay here while I run back to the car?

Oh no, Patricia said. Well both go. Maybe someone will have stopped by now, and we wont have to spend the night in this horrid house.

They hurried back to the car. When she saw the massive size of the tree limb lying over the trunk, Elizabeth was glad Patricia had insisted upon coming along. She could never have shifted it alone.

Together they wrestled the limb off the back of the car and pulled the blankets out of the trunk. Thrusting the blankets inside their raincoats to keep them dry, they hurried back to the house. By this time even Patricia was glad to be getting out of the rain.

The front door was unlocked, and it creaked open into a narrow hallway. Elizabeth sneezed as dust tickled her nose. She shivered. The house was chilly, but at least it was dry. The dust was so thick that they left visible footprints on the floor wherever they stepped.

I am not going upstairs, said Patricia. Lets just sleep down here.

After eyeing the spooky, dark stairwell, Elizabeth agreed.

The sisters hastily searched the downstairs for some firewood. There were a few small sticks left in the bottom of the wood bin in the huge kitchen, but not enough to start a fire. The wood box in the library was totally empty. After vetoing Patricias suggestion that they break up some of the chairs to make a fire, Elizabeth decided that they would sleep in the library, which was marginally warmer than the rest of the downstairs. The sisters removed their wet coats and spread them out on a table by the fireplace, hoping they would dry by morning. Then they made a bed out of the blankets and lay down to sleep on the library floor.