Behind the Bookcase
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2012 by Mark Steensland
Jacket art and interior illustrations copyright © 2012 by Kelly Murphy
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Steensland, Mark.
Behind the bookcase / Mark Steensland. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary : Sarah, her brother Billy, and her parents are moving into her deceased grandmother’s house for the summer in order to fix it up and sell it, but this is a house of locked rooms and many dark and dangerous secrets.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89985-0
1. Haunted houses—Juvenile fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters—Juvenile fiction.
3. Horror tales. [1. Brothers and sisters—fiction. 2. Haunted houses—fiction.
3. Mystery and detective stories. 4. Horror stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.S815313Beh 2012
813.6—dc23
2012010896
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
For my father
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Chapter 1 Arrival
Chapter 2 Yellow and Blue
Chapter 3 The Unfinished Letter
Chapter 4 In the Basement
Chapter 5 The Bookcase Moves
Chapter 6 Behind the Bookcase
Chapter 7 In the Forest of Shadows
Chapter 8 The King of the Cats
Chapter 9 Quite a Story
Chapter 10 Second Thoughts
Chapter 11 A Close Call
Chapter 12 Soul’s Midnight
Chapter 13 The Morning After
Chapter 14 The Key Is Found
Chapter 15 Back to Scotopia
Chapter 16 A New Friendship
Chapter 17 Balthazat Tries Again
Chapter 18 A New Plan
Chapter 19 Meet Mr. Ink
Chapter 20 In the Blue Suite
Chapter 21 Some Very Bad News
Chapter 22 A Leap of Faith
Chapter 23 A Change of Plans
Chapter 24 Disaster at Home
Chapter 25 The Truth At Last
Chapter 26 Grandma Winnie Explains It All
Chapter 27 To the Court of the Cloud Queen
Chapter 28 A Taste of Sunlight
Chapter 29 Another Way Through
Chapter 30 In the Green Desert
Chapter 31 Back to the Black Iron Prison
Chapter 32 Searching for the Undoer
Chapter 33 The Tables Are Turned
Chapter 34 Using the Undoer
Chapter 35 What Was Undone and What Wasn’t
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Truth be told: the place looked creepy. Sarah simply couldn’t believe that anyone she knew—let alone someone from her very own family—could have anything to do with such a house. Never in her life had she seen such a disaster. The puke-green paint was peeling. The lawn (what there was of it) was more brown than green. The flower beds were overrun with weeds. The roof was missing so many shingles it looked like a checkerboard. The driveway was cracked. The steps were sagging. It was awful, made even worse by the fact that they would be celebrating her twelfth birthday in it. Even though they had just spent an entire week in the car, driving here from California, Sarah would have gladly turned right around and gone back home.
“This is it?” she asked, just to be sure, hoping they had somehow made a mistake, that they had turned onto the wrong street and this wasn’t really Grandma Winnie’s house at all.
In the front seat, Mom and Dad exchanged a long look and then Dad said grimly, “Afraid so.”
Sarah’s younger brother, Billy, meanwhile, was wearing a huge smile, which got even bigger when Dad confirmed that this was indeed where they would be spending the summer. “Awesome!” Billy said, with a reverence that thoroughly annoyed his sister.
“What could be awesome about this?”
“Look at it,” he said. “It’s like a haunted house.”
“Billy,” Dad said. “Don’t say that.”
“But it is!” he insisted.
“I’m sure it’s just because Grandma wasn’t feeling well the last few years. She couldn’t keep the house up.”
“No, honey,” Mom said. “It’s always been like this. That’s why the bullies called me Creepy Carol in school. Now can you understand why I wanted to leave as soon as I could? And get as far away as possible?”
Dad tried to put his arm around Mom, but she opened the passenger door and got out of the car quickly. Dad gave Billy one last sour look and then got out with her.
“What’s wrong with them?” Billy asked.
“This is where Mom grew up,” Sarah said. “Her mom died in there. Do you think she liked hearing you say it looks haunted?”
“Oh,” Billy said, his smile suddenly evaporating into a look of timid shame. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Of course not,” Sarah snapped. “You don’t think of anyone but yourself.”
“That’s not true.”
“Prove it,” Sarah said as she grabbed her backpack and opened her door.
The air outside the car was hot and humid. Where they were from in Southern California, it was hot, but not wet like this. Sarah felt as if her mouth were pressed against a damp towel.
Billy got out of the car behind her and went over to where their parents were standing. “Sorry, Mom,” he said. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”
Mom patted Billy on the head. “It’s okay,” she said with a sniffle. “I understand.” She faced the house, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. “In a way, I’m glad you like it. At least one of us does.”
Mom and Dad turned away and started toward the front door. Billy faced his sister and stuck his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes and joined their parents on the steps.
Mom fished in her purse until she found a yellow envelope. After Grandma Winnie had died, Mom had gotten a whole bunch of these yellow envelopes in the mail. When Sarah had asked about them, Mom had explained that they were from lawyers telling her about things she had to do to settle Grandma’s affairs.
The biggest of all these things was selling the house. That was why they were there. Mom and Dad had decided they would do what they could to fix it up before they sold it. But now that Sarah had actually seen it, she didn’t think one summer would be enough time to fix the house. Not unless they rented a bulldozer and just pushed it flat.
Mom opened the envelope and took out a key. While Dad held the squeaking screen door, she put the key in the lock, turned it, and pushed the front door open.
A gust of cool air came out of the darkness beyond and swept over all of them. To Sarah it felt like running through the sheets hanging on the laundry line in their backyard at home. In fact, it felt so much like something—or someone—pushing past her that Sarah gasped a little and stepped back. Was Billy right? Was Grandma’s house haunted?
Mom and Dad looked
at each other again and Sarah could tell they had felt it, too. Mom just stood there, as if she were frozen in place.
“Honey?” Dad said. “Are you okay?”
Mom nodded slowly, then turned around. “Sarah?” she said. “You want to go first?”
Sarah shook her head quickly. The cool air wasn’t the only thing spooking her. Maybe it was because the June sun was so bright, but the darkness beyond the open front door looked as thick as a pool of swirling oil.
“I will!” Billy shouted, and pushed his way past Sarah and up the steps.
Dad couldn’t help but laugh as Billy went in. Sarah didn’t think it was funny at all. Instead, she was seized with the desire to grab her brother by the shoulder and pull him back. She was afraid that once he touched the darkness, it would suck him in like a whirlpool. She had to stop him.
But it was too late. He was gone.
A moment later, they heard him inside. “Cool!” he said. Relieved, Sarah pulled her hand back. Mom waited another moment, then stepped over the threshold. Dad faced Sarah. “Come on, sweetie,” he said, smiling that big smile of his, the one that always told her everything was going to be okay.
Reassured, she climbed the steps and went inside.
The first thing that hit her was the smell. Sarah had a very strong sense of smell, and right now she wished she didn’t. The whole place smelled heavy and thick and dusty, like the old curtains in the school gym. She wanted to say something about it but decided not to. Mom’s feelings were already hurt enough by Billy’s “haunted house” comment; she certainly didn’t need Sarah telling her the place stank, even though it did.
A sudden swishing sound to her right made Sarah think a giant bird was swooping in to attack her. She was so startled that she screamed and threw her hands up to protect herself. Mom broke into a laugh and rushed toward her, hugging her tightly.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just opening the curtains.” And now Sarah saw: the curtains in the front windows were made of thick red velvet and hung from heavy brass rings, which sounded like knife blades sliding out of metal sheaths when they slid over the rod.
“Like this,” Dad said as he yanked the other curtain open. The swishing sound wasn’t nearly so scary now that Sarah knew what it was. She smiled and shrugged.
But then Billy opened his mouth and started singing in a squeaky voice, “Sarah is a scaredy-cat, Sarah is a scaredy-cat.” Sarah broke from Mom’s hug and lunged at him, but he got behind Dad before she could reach him.
“All right,” Dad said. “That’s enough of that. Leave each other alone.”
Sarah sighed and turned away. With the curtains open, the darkness was half gone and she could finally see the room.
It was huge, but what really grabbed her was that the walls weren’t walls at all—they were bookcases. In more than one of her letters, Grandma Winnie had told Sarah about all the books she owned, but Sarah had never imagined that she had been talking about this many. The bookcases reached all the way to the ceiling, and they were stuffed. There wasn’t one empty spot. For someone like Sarah, who loved to read, this was heaven.
“Wow,” she said quietly.
“Betcha can’t say that backward,” Dad said. Sarah grinned and shook her head. He always said that when she said “Wow.” And he still thought it was funny every time.
“Are these all yours now?” Sarah asked.
Mom nodded.
“So we can keep them?”
“Of course we can’t keep them,” Mom said.
“But why not?”
“How would we get them back home?”
“In boxes.”
“And where would we put this many books?”
“In my room,” Sarah said simply, as if there were no other answer.
“You don’t have space for the books you already have,” Dad said.
“Then we could build an addition.”
“With what money?”
“All the money you’re going to make from selling this house.”
“That is going to pay for your college. I hope. At least part of it.”
“What about my college?” Billy asked.
“Yours, too,” Mom said.
“If he lives to see nine,” Sarah said under her breath.
Mom raised her eyebrows and Sarah turned away as Dad pulled a book from one of the shelves. A cloud of dust came with it. “Besides,” he said, coughing and waving his hand in front of his face, “you don’t even know if there’s anything here you’d want to read.” Then he held the book up into the sunlight and read the title. “Phrenology for Beginners,” he said with a laugh.
“What’s that?”
“It’s the long-forgotten art of telling what kind of person you are by reading the lumps on your head.”
“What?” Sarah said.
“You can do that?” Billy asked.
“Of course not,” Mom said. “Now let’s stop fooling around and get the rest of the curtains and windows open. I think some light and air in here will do a lot of good.”
“Agreed,” Dad said, and shoved the book back onto the shelf. “You two go upstairs and get everything open. Your mom and I will take care of things down here.”
“Deal,” Billy said, and started running. Then he stopped short. “Where are the stairs?”
“Over here,” Mom called, and Billy started running again.
“Wait for me,” Sarah said.
“Why?” Billy asked. “Are you scared the curtains are going to get you again?”
“Billy,” Dad said firmly. “Do you need a time-out already?”
“No, sir.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Come on, Sarah,” Billy said, and the two of them dashed to the top of the stairs, then stopped.
The hallway in front of them was shaped like a T, with a closed door at the end of each arm.
“Which way are you going?” Sarah asked.
Billy looked both ways, then pointed to his right. “That way. What about you?”
Sarah swallowed thickly. She knew that it was silly to want to stick with Billy, especially because he was her younger brother. But she had always been … cautious. That was the way she preferred to think of herself. She wasn’t really a scaredy-cat, was she? Just because she didn’t like the dark? Lots of people were afraid of the dark. It was perfectly normal to be afraid of the dark. Billy was the weird one for wanting to rush in everywhere, especially when he didn’t know what he might find.
She realized Billy was staring at her, waiting for her answer. She knew that if she went with him, it would just confirm what she was sure he was thinking. So, out of spite more than anything like good sense, she blurted, “I’m going this way,” and pointed to the left.
“Really?” Billy said.
Sarah nodded.
“You’re not afraid?”
Sarah shook her head.
Billy shrugged. “Okay,” he said.
Sarah turned away from him and started toward the door. The light from the window was blocked by the wall, and the door ahead of her was hard to see in the gloom. She squinted, then looked over her shoulder. Billy hadn’t moved. He was still standing there, arms crossed, watching her, a smirk on his face.
“What are you waiting for?” she hissed at him.
“What are you waiting for?”
Strangely, her irritation gave her a sudden burst of energy and she spun on her heels, took two steps forward, grabbed the knob, twisted it, and pushed the door open. When she turned around to see what Billy had thought of that, she discovered that he was already gone, into the other room. Sarah turned back around and stepped through the open door.
The room was painted bright yellow. The windows above the bed looked down on the neighbor’s house to the east, while another window, in a kind of alcove, looked over the backyard. In addition to the closet and a short built-in bookcase, there was a small door in the wall beneath the sloped roof.
&nbs
p; Sarah had never seen such a small door before. Curious, she grabbed the knob and pulled. Just inside, she saw a chain attached to a lightbulb. She pulled it to turn the light on, then poked her head through the doorway.
The little room’s ceiling slanted down to meet the floor on the far side, about six feet away. She saw boxes full of Christmas decorations at the nearer end, but there was still plenty of room. She hoped her mom and dad would say it was okay to play here, but somehow she was sure they wouldn’t.
“Sarah,” Billy called. “Come here. Look what I found.”
Sarah pulled the chain again, turning off the light, as she stepped out of the room, then closed the door and went down the hallway to the room Billy was in.
Other than being painted blue, it was the mirror image of the yellow room, with the same alcove window, built-in bookcase, and little door. As Sarah had suspected, this was what Billy was yelling about. He stood in front of the short door, holding his hands out like the magician they had seen in Las Vegas on their way here. “Ta-da!” he said when Sarah came in. “I found a secret room.”
“I know, Billy,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “The other room has one, too. Besides, it’s not really a secret, is it? Everyone can see the door.” She honestly didn’t know how she put up with Billy the way she did. He was so annoying, and not just because he called her a scaredy-cat. He always thought everything was such a big deal. Whenever she said anything about it, her parents told her she had been the same way when she was younger. But she doubted that. There was no way she had ever been so annoying.
She turned to leave just as Dad came in. “Hey,” he said. “Look at that, would you? What is that? A secret room?”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
Mom came in behind him. “No,” she said. “That’s only for storage. Don’t play in there.”
Dad poked his head through the door and looked around, then pulled it back out. “But why not? It’s the perfect size for them.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Billy said.
“No,” Mom said. “I wasn’t allowed to when I was a girl.” She looked around the room. “I wasn’t even allowed in these rooms.”
“Why not?”