The Ghost of Graylock Read Free

trees. “Now,” the boy continued, “let the lights and the darks of the leaves leap out.”
    “Leap out?”
    “Just try.”
    A few seconds later, something strange occurred. Neil didn’t know how it happened, but just the act of staring — concentrating — put him in a different kind of place. He could feel the cold stone steps beneath him, the breeze tickling his face, but he felt … elsewhere.
    “The shadow and light will blur. Look closer. Fall into it. He’s right there. In the blur. Look. A face.”
    The boy was right. Where the shadows retreated into the mass of leaves on the hill, suddenly Neil noticed a pair of eyes blinking, a mouth opening and closing, as if reciting some silent song as the wind blew through the trees.
    Neil gasped and then the face was gone. He turned to the boy. “Was that thing real? The Green Man?”
    The boy laughed. “ You saw him, didn’t you?” He quieted, and then peered off into the distance again. “You’d be surprised how easily you can find them. Sit and stare at anything for awhile … it will eventually stare back.”
    Neil chuckled, pleased to meet someone who might be as weird as himself. He’d definitely seen the face in the trees. If this boy saw it too, then they were in it together. And neither of them were nuts.
    The boy smiled to himself, as if the Green Man across the way had suddenly winked at him. “I’m Wesley, by the way.”
    Neil knew right then that they’d be friends.
    By the time Neil had made it back to the pie shop, he found himself looking around at pieces of the town — sidewalk stains, patterns in brickwork, shadows falling across concrete — trying to find hidden life inside all of it. He couldn’t help but also think of his parents — how a useful skill such as Wesley’s might have given him a clue to the secrets they had kept for so long, secrets to which he still had no satisfying answer.
     
    “Here we are,” said Eric, pausing near a gravel road that led into a dense growth of pine. Next to the inconspicuous intersection, hidden by tall weeds and low-hanging branches, a small wooden sign stood atop a thick post: G RAYLOCK H ALL — S TATE H OSPITAL .
    “Notice how it says nothing about crazy people,” said Eric, with a smirk. “Totally bland.”
    “What would you like it to say?” Wesley asked. “‘Welcome to the Loony Bin’?”
    “Where is it?” Neil asked.
    “Way back through the trees,” said Eric. “You have to cross a bridge at the end of the long driveway. The main building is on a small island in Graylock Lake. The woods are state property. There’s not much else out here.” As the group stood at the edge of the path, a gust of wind released needles from high pine boughs swaying over their heads. The needles scattered at their feet. The dark scent of sticky sap hung in the air. “You sure you want to do this?”
    “Is it dangerous?” Bree asked.
    “Probably,” Eric answered with a slight shrug.
    Bree sighed and hugged her ribs, as if protecting herself from a chill that didn’t exist, but eventually she took the first step onto the gravel road. They all walked in silence for awhile. A couple driveways turned off the thin stretch. Through the dense trees, Neil could see buildings in the distance. Old houses. He wondered if anyone still lived in them.
    “You don’t really believe the hospital has ghosts in it,” Bree said eventually. “Do you?” She spoke directly to Eric; it was obvious to her how Neil and Wesley felt.
    “It’s hard not to believe it when so many people claim to have seen her,” said Eric.
    “Seen who ?” Bree whispered.
    “The nurse.”
    Neil would have laughed if Wesley hadn’t already given him the rundown the day before. Now he listened as Eric recounted it for his sister. Though hearing it for a second time, the story again gave him chills.
    “And we’re going here … why ?” said Bree, stopping in the middle of the gravel path as Eric finished the