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Chapter 3 — July 25, 7:26 pm — The Long Shadow

  It was dusk by the time they reached the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun dipped behind the low hills lining the shoreline and painted the sky with brilliant orange and pink light. Grandpa Edgar parked the Adventure Wagon in the lot of the Trident Motel, shut off the engine, and slid out of the driver’s seat. He climbed onto the roof and unbuckled the straps on the boat.

  Audrey and Garrett would have helped, but scaling the side of the truck took all the skills of an expert mountaineer, and the boat was way too heavy for them to lift.

  Grandpa Edgar hoisted the boat over his head, as if it weighed no more than a feather pillow, carried it down to the beach, and set it down in the shallow water. He let it bob freely in the gentle roll of the waves as he removed three orange life jackets from a compartment inside.

  “Put these on for me, please,” he said, handing one to Audrey and another to Garrett.

  “Do you think we’re going to need these?”

  Audrey asked.

  “Old Murphy is an expert swimmer, and his law takes full advantage of the uncontrollable sea. Now,” he shouted like a train conductor, “All aboard!”

  Audrey and Garrett climbed into the little boat, and Grandpa Edgar followed. He took a seat in the back, beside the tiny engine, and pulled the starter cord. It sputtered awake, coughing up a cloud of thick smoke, before roaring to life.

  “And, we’re off,” Grandpa Edgar bellowed.

  The dark outline of their destination stood before them in the distance. The crooked tower stuck out of the calm ocean like a twisted, black dagger. The spinning beacon on top blinked like the eye of a giant cyclops, keeping a close watch on the small boat as it pushed closer and closer towards the island.

  The house at the base of the lighthouse was a two-story mansion of stone and steel, planted firmly in the jagged rock. The icy water around the island appeared to be a lot darker and more violent than the water closer to the mainland.

  Audrey and Garrett knew from the stories their parents had told them that Grandpa Edgar wasn’t afraid of anything. Even so, the sight of this creepy old lighthouse had to have some effect on him.

  But, it didn’t.

  When Garrett looked back, he saw Grandpa Edgar on the edge of his seat, staring straight ahead. He actually looked excited, as if he had just learned that a surprise birthday party was waiting for him inside.

  “An obelisk of light. Venus seated above—beaming into the night,” Grandpa Edgar said, never taking his eyes off the spinning lamp inside the lantern room at the top of the lighthouse.

  “Are we looking at the same thing?” Audrey said with a slight quiver in her voice.

  “Adventure outfits itself in many elaborate costumes, my dear. Some just seem a tad scarier than others. But remove the mask…” Grandpa Edgar twisted the throttle, feeding more gas into the small engine.

  “If there’s such a thing as a haunted house, Grandpa…that’s it,” Garrett said.

  “I think we should turn back,” Audrey cautioned, “I saw a sign at the docks pointing to a Marine Life Education Center. I’d much rather spend the day there than on this…” The boat rocked Audrey back and forth, “…crazy adventure.”

  “There’s nothing to fear,” Grandpa Edgar reassured her. “The old lighthouse keeper died over thirty years ago, and the place has been abandoned ever since.”

  The island grew larger and more ominous with every sputter and belch of thick smoke from the noisy little engine.

  At the same time, in the glass lantern room atop the lighthouse, the beacon light became increasingly dimmer.

  Garrett nudged Audrey with his elbow and directed her attention to the cause of the fading light.

  A black fog filled the inside of the lantern room. It poured out into the night from an open window and spiraled down the lighthouse tower and slithered over the house. The fog grew thicker and darker as it touched the ocean water, concealing the island behind it. The swirling darkness drifted inches above the surf, away from the lighthouse and straight towards their sputtering boat.

  “Grandpa?…hic!” Garrett said, looking back for a sign that everything was all right.

  The black fog forked around the nose of the boat and hugged the hull.

  “Don’t worry. It’s just a little fog,” Grandpa Edgar said in a calm voice. “I can see the dock just fine. We should be on dry land in two shakes of a kangaroo’s tail.”

  The water churned and spat.

  “Hold on, children!” Grandpa Edgar shouted as he locked onto the steering arm of the engine with both hands. “It’s going to be a rough docking.” He muscled the little boat through an obstacle course of sharp rocks and the wooden masts of sunken ships rising out of the dark water like petrified trees in a haunted forest.

  Audrey and Garrett spotted the dock directly in front of them. It was so close they could probably stretch out and grab it if they dared. But the chance of falling overboard kept them in their seats.

  Grandpa Edgar shut off the engine and swung a rope over his head like a lasso. He threw it into the wind and looped it over a docking post on his first try.

  “Bullseye!” Grandpa Edgar cheered, pulling the rope tight.

  The little boat butted up against the weather-beaten dock. The metal bottom scraped against the rocks as the violent water continued to toss them around like a sock in the wash.

  “All ashore who’s going ashore,” Grandpa Edgar bellowed.

  Audrey and Garrett quickly climbed out of the boat and up a fragile wooden ladder to the dock. Grandpa Edgar tied the boat securely to the docking posts and followed.

  At the end of the dock, hanging on a hook attached to a twisted metal pole, they located a small oil lamp. Grandpa Edgar removed a silver lighter from a back pocket, swung open the glass door on the lamp, and lit the wick. He held it up high so they could get a good look around.

  The light stripped away the darkness and reflected off the wet stones of a walkway.

  “It looks like that goes up to the front door,” Garrett said.

  Grandpa Edgar put his hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Let the adventure begin.”

  “As long as we get inside soon. I’m freezing.” Audrey mumbled.

  The stones were slippery and, even with the light from the lamp, very difficult to see.

  The wind played an orchestra of haunting sounds as it whispered over the crashing waves, rattled the shingles on the side of the house, and swayed the rusty rain gutters.

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  The stairs up to the front door creaked and groaned with every step they took. Audrey and Garrett tried to steady themselves on the handrail, but it wobbled so horribly that it was safer not to use it at all.

  The dark green, double doors of the mansion were adorned with brass hinges and mermaid knockers. Over the decades, the fierce, salty sea winds and harsh weather had stripped them of their elegance and sparkle.

  Grandpa Edgar handed the lamp to Audrey and twisted the doorknob. It was locked. He tried the other.

  “Both locked,” Grandpa Edgar said.

  “Now what?” Garrett asked.

  “Back to the motel?” Audrey suggested.

  Grandpa Edgar took the lamp back and held it out over the railing. The light from the lamp reflected off windows on the first floor and on the wet stones of a narrow path that went around the side of the house.

  “Come, we’ll follow this path,” Grandpa Edgar said, climbing down the steps. “I’m sure we’ll find a way in around back.”

  The waves pounded on the jagged, slime-covered rocks. The crash of white water echoed off the side of the house and added to the chaos of sound that continued to twist in the wind.

  Grandpa Edgar led Audrey and Garrett along the slippery walkway around the mansion, his ponytail twirling behind his head like a pinwheel. He held the lamp high above his head, widening the tiny flame’s coverage of their path ahead.

  They stopped at every possible way into the lighthouse—doors, windows, caves in the rocks, holes in the foundation—but every single one was either blocked, boarded up, or locked tight.

  “Grandpa?” Garrett said, pointing up to a window on the second floor. “That window right there is open.”

  “A brilliant observation,” Grandpa Edgar said.

  “But it’s too high up. How are we supposed to reach it?” Audrey asked.

  Grandpa Edgar looked around and then smiled down at Garrett, “The greatest reward for an adventurer is to be the very first to set eyes on a treasure that’s been locked away for centuries.”

  Garrett’s expression went blank, “You want me to…hic!…in there? Alone?” he asked, hoping the answer would be no.

  “You’re not afraid, are you?” Grandpa Edgar said.

  “No, of course not,” Garrett said, standing up straight and puffing out his chest, trying his best to look brave. “Why would I…hic!…be?”

  “Bravo! Then here’s the plan.” Grandpa Edgar set the lamp on the ground. “I’ll lift you up and inside.

  I believe that you’ll find the front door on the same level as that window.”

  “I hope that’s all I’ll find,” Garrett said.

  “Once you’re inside,” Grandpa Edgar continued, “go to the double, green doors and unlock them for us. We’ll be there waiting.” He reached out towards Garrett, “Sound good, my boy?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Audrey snickered.

  Garrett nodded his head, not completely sure that he was prepared for what he’d find inside.

  “Then, up you go.” Grandpa Edgar lifted Garrett as easily as he had lifted the boat earlier and sat him on his shoulders. “Now…reach for the ledge.”

  Garrett stretched up with his arms and grabbed hold of the window. He placed one foot on Grandpa Edgar’s shoulders and stood up.

  “Splendid,” Grandpa Edgar said.“ Now, in you go.”

  With one great push, Garrett was up and in through the window.

  Inside, Garrett couldn’t see anything beyond his

  outstretched arms. Spooky silence replaced the wind and waves. A canvas of emptiness for Garrett’s mind to create a collage of frightening images. His imagination strapped him into the front seat of a roller coaster and plummeted him into a tunnel of his worst fears. He could’ve been in a hallway…the kitchen…a mad scientist’s lab…or quite possibly the den of a lizard monster who crept up on little boys in the dark and ate their heads.

  “What do you see?” He heard Audrey yell from outside.

  “Nothing. It’s too dark.”

  “Look for a light switch,” Grandpa Edgar shouted.

  “But it’s dark.”

  Grandpa Edgar reached into a pocket below his right hip, pulled out an individually wrapped chocolate, and tossed it through the window.

  “This will vanquish your fears, my boy.”

  The chocolate bounced on the floor and hit Garrett’s foot. He picked it up and leaned out the window.

  “Thanks, Grandpa. But I don’t think a chocolate can van-squish the things I’m thinking about right now.”

  “Vanquish,” Audrey shouted up, “it means to conquer or defeat.”

  “Whatever,” Garrett said, holding up the chocolate. “I’ll trade you for a flashlight?”

  “Trust me, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Just feel along the wall,” Grandpa Edgar said. “Be the detective that I know you are.”

  “Detectives use flashlights.”

  “Just go already,” Audrey shot back. “And hurry. It’s cold out here.”

  “Fine…” Garrett ducked back into the dark room, stuffed the chocolate into the pocket of his blazer, and took a deep breath. “Hic!”

  His hands felt along the torn, grit-covered wallpaper, and thankfully, never fell on the scaly skin or drool-soaked fangs of any monsters. There was only a bookshelf full of books…“hic!”…a couple of small, metal boxes…“hic!”…a wooden desk with a lot of papers on it…“hic!”…a large picture frame on the wall…“hic!”…and finally a light switch. He flipped it on.

  A lamp with a shade made of brown glass, sitting on the corner of the large desk, flickered to life.

  “I’m in an office,” Garrett called out.

  The desk was covered with dusty maps and books. The bookshelf held more books and a collection of shiny, gold compasses. The frame on the wall held a four-foot-wide by six-foot-tall painting. It pictured a beautiful young girl sitting beside an elegant chessboard in what looked to be an old library.

  As Garrett admired the painting, a piano in another room of the house began to play.

  Garrett whipped around to the open door of the office. The soft, muted melody echoed down the dark hall.

  He tip-toed over to the doorway and peeked out. He squinted up and down the hall, but it was too dark in both directions to see anything.

  “He…he…llo?”

  “Garrett?” Grandpa Edgar shouted up from outside.

  “Hic!” Garrett pulled his head back into the room with a startled jump.

  “Don’t forget about us, my boy.”

  “I haven’t, Grandpa!” Garrett shouted from across the room.

  The music stopped.

  “I’m just…Did you hear that?”

  “I’m sure that everything you’re hearing is merely a figment of your imagination, the work of the wind, leaky pipes, and creaky old wood in the walls.”

  Garrett looked back down the hall, “If you say so, Grandpa. I’m going to the front door.”

  “Brilliant, my boy!”

  Garrett took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and slipped out of the office. He checked down towards the origin of the music—a piano played by the wind?—and then hurried in the opposite direction, towards the

  front door.

  Slowly, Garrett’s eyes adjusted to the dark, but he didn’t stop to look at any of the colorful paintings on the walls, the antique grandfather clock that had stopped ticking, or the decorative rugs that covered the hardwood floors. Although he did make sure to locate every single light switch and lamp along the way and turn them on.

  The front doors were, as Grandpa Edgar said, on the same level as the office. Directly in front of him, he could see the tops of the double, green doors peeking over a small flight of steps at the end of the hallway.

  Garrett ran up and slid to a stop at the top of the stairs. Just before he took the first step down, he heard the slam of a window behind him—the window he had just crawled through.

  Heavy footsteps crossed the hardwood floor of the office.

  Garrett turned slowly and stared, wide-eyed, down the hall.

  “Grandpa?” he muttered.

  A long, black shadow extended out from the office doorway. It stretched across the hall, over the water-stained rug, and onto the faded, torn wallpaper.

  “Grandpa?…hic!…Audrey?” Garrett called out.

  “We’re out here,” Grandpa Edgar shouted…from the other side of the front door!

  Without a second thought, Garrett flew down the stairs, jumped the last three steps at the bottom, and pounced on the handle of one of the doors. He flipped the locking latch and threw open the door.

  Grandpa Edgar stood there with a smile, Audrey behind him with her hair twisted, tossed, and teased into a nest on top of her head.

  “About time,” she glared.

  Garrett didn’t wait for them to enter. He ran back to the steps and up just enough to peek down the hall. He needed to check on the long shadow…but it was gone.

  “Hic!”

  His exclamation echoed down the length of the hallway.

  Grandpa Edgar and Audrey stepped into the house and closed the door behind them.

  “What took you so long?” Audrey said as she fixed her hair.

  Garrett didn’t move.

  Grandpa Edgar blew out the lamp and hung it on a coat rack that stood beside the door. His eyes jumped from one detail of the entryway to the next, taking in everything around him.

  A chandelier of twisted black metal dangled from a heavy chain two stories directly above them. Shredded wallpaper stuck out from the edges of shattered picture frames that held no pictures. A tattered green and blue rug ran along the floor, past the steps leading to the hall, and up a curving staircase to the second floor. But at the top of the steps, there was nothing but…nothing. It looked as if a balcony or walkway might have once looked down on the front door and welcoming area, but all that remained now were some broken support beams sticking out of the wall, and torn shreds of carpet that draped down from underneath two boarded-up doors.

  “Spectacular,” Grandpa Edgar sighed. He looked over at Garrett on the steps. His attention was on something down the hall. “Are you all right, my boy?”

  “Hic!” Garrett flinched. “Yeah. I just thought…I think there’s something strange going on in here, Grandpa.”

  Audrey detected the fear in Garrett’s voice, “Is it Frogator?” she joked.

  Garrett ran back, stepped around Grandpa Edgar, and pointed him towards the office. He wanted to make sure Grandpa Edgar led the way—just in case the shadow was something more than the wind, the pipes, or wood in the walls. “Let me show you what I’ve found.”

  “Please do,” Grandpa Edgar said.

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