Draugr Read Free Page B

where Michael was standing. It was chillier there and the air seemed very still. It smelled a little like smoke, as if some of the trees had been struck by bolts of lightning a long time ago and were still smoldering.
    There was no one to be seen at all.
    â€œWhere . . . where could he go?” I asked. “There weren’t any holes for him to fall into.” We searched around. I thought I heard a whisper for a second or the sound of crying, but when I held myself perfectly still and listened, I heard nothing.
    We split up and looked around. I made sure that the other two were always in my sight. After about ten minutes we met back where we had originally seen the boy.
    â€œWe better get home,” I suggested.
    â€œWe can’t just leave him,” Angie said.
    Michael examined the palm of his hand. “I don’t think he was really here.”
    We both stared at him.
    â€œI’ll explain later. Let’s start walking first.”
    We agreed and began heading back down the path.
    It seemed to take years to get to Grandpa’s cabin.

4
    It wasn’t until after we had eaten Grandpa’s chicken soup and sandwiches and done dishes that Michael finally told us about the boy. We were in the living room. Angie had a blanket around her shoulders, though it wasn’t really that cold. Grandpa was on the deck.
    â€œWhen I touched him . . .” Michael started to explain. “. . . well, I really didn’t touch him.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I asked. Michael’s blue eyes, so like my own, looked troubled.
    â€œMy hand went right into him.” He held out his hand, re-­enacting the event. “He was—he was made of mist. And it was really, really cold. It was as if he was a ghost or something.”
    â€œThere’s no such thing as ghosts,” Angie said.
    â€œI know that,” Michael huffed. “But there was something really strange about this boy.”
    â€œHe probably just lives nearby,” Angie suggested. “In a farmhouse or something.”
    â€œBut he disappeared. Right in front of me. He couldn’t have gone anywhere or run away. He just wasn’t there anymore.”
    Angie shivered under her blanket. “A trick of the light. It was kinda dark in there.”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said finally. “Maybe we should tell Grandpa.”
    They both looked at me. A moment of silence passed.
    â€œAt supper time,” Michael answered. “I . . . I want to think about it more. He might believe all his stories went to our heads.”
    â€œYeah, I want to go into town,” Angie said, throwing off her blanket and getting up. “Walk around and see the sights—if there are any. Get away from all these trees and things. Maybe there’s something fun going on. C’mon.”
    We followed her out the front door. I was quite happy to not think about the boy any longer. I needed time to clear my head.
    Grandpa was sitting in his rocking chair, whittling. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re going to town. I heard Miss Loudspeaker announce it. I bet even my neighbors heard it.” He flicked his knife and a long sliver of wood came off. I wondered what else he had heard. If he did know more, he didn’t show it. “You three blurs don’t slow down for a second, do you? It makes me tired just looking at you.” He sent another chip skyward. I couldn’t tell what he was carving. “Since you’re going that way, would you mind picking me up a copy of this week’s paper? Your ol’ Grandpa Thursten would love that.”
    We agreed to do that and just as we were heading out of the yard, Grandpa yelled, “Don’t fall in any holes—”
    â€œâ€”you might meet a rabbit you don’t like.” We finished it for him.
    â€œOh, you heard that one before.”
    We all laughed, then followed the road into Gimli.
    â€œGrandpa sure