The Secret Path Read Free

eyebrow. “Nothing is simple in Spooksville.”
    Springville—Adam refused to think of it by any other name—was tiny. Nestled between two gentle sets of hills on the north and south, it had the ocean to the west. To the east a range of rough hills rose sharply. Adam was inclined to call them mountains. Naturally, Sally said there were many bodies buried in those hills. Most of the town was set on a slope that only leveled out as it neared the water. Close to the shore, at the end of a rocky point, stood a tall lighthouse that looked out over the hard blue water as if in search of adventures. Sally explained that the water in and around Springville wasn’t safe, either.
    â€œLots of riptides and undertows,” she said. “Sharks, too—great whites. I knew a guy—he was out on his boogie board only a hundred feet from the shore, and a shark swam by and bit his right leg off Just like that. If you don’t believe me, you can meet him. His name’s David Green, but we call him Jaws.”
    This story had a ring of truth to it, at least.
    â€œI don’t like to swim all that much,” Adam muttered.
    Sally shook her head. “You don’t even have to go in the water to have problems. The crabs come right up on the sand to nibble on you.” She added, “We don’t have to go to the beach right now if you don’t want to.”
    â€œAnother time might be better,” Adam agreed.
    They did head in the direction of the water, though. Sally wanted to show him the arcade next to the movie theater, which, she said, was owned by the local undertaker. Apparently it showed only horror movies. The theater and the arcade were located next to the pier, which, Sally said, was about as safe as a single plank set above boiling lava. Along the way they passed a supermarket.
    Parked out front was a black Corvette convertible, with the top down. Adam wasn’t into cars, but he thought Corvettes were cool. They looked like rockets. He stared at the car as they strode by, for a moment blocking out Sally’s rambling. Like so much of Springville, the market parking lot was built on a hill. Adam was shocked to see that a shopping cart had slipped loose from its place near the front doors and was heading for the car. He hated to think of such a beautiful car getting a dent in it, and jumped forward to stop the cart. Sally screamed behind him.
    â€œAdam!” she cried. “Don’t go near that car!”
    But she was too late with her warning. He stopped the shopping cart only inches from the car door, feeling as if he had done his good deed for the day. He noticed that Sally was still standing where he’d left her. She seemed afraid to approach the vehicle. As he started to move the cart to a safe place, a soft yet mysterious voice spoke at his back.
    â€œThank you, Adam. You have done your good deed for the day.”
    He turned toward the most beautiful womanhe’d ever seen. She was tall—most adults were. Her black hair was long and curly, her eyes so dark and big, they were like mirrors that opened only at night. Her face was very pale, white as a statue’s, her lips as red as fresh blood. She wore a white dress that swept past her knees. In her hands she carried a small white purse. She must have been in her late twenties, but seemed ageless. It was a warm day, yet she had on gloves, as red as her lips. She smiled at his shocked expression.
    â€œYou wonder how I know your name,” she said. “Isn’t that so, Adam?”
    He nodded, dumbstruck. She took a step closer.
    â€œThere isn’t much that happens in this town that I don’t know about,” she said. “You just arrived today. Isn’t that so?”
    He found his voice. “Yes, ma’am.”
    She chuckled softly. “How do you like Spooksville so far?”
    He stuttered. “I thought only kids called it Spooksville?”
    She took another step