Read Online The Window by Jeanette Ingold - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeanette Ingold
Tags: Young Adult
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hear if air's escaping out any holes, when it comes to me that I'm going to be outside at night, out where Gwen's and the others' voices have come from.
As though Hannah and my aunt have each caught some small part of my thoughts, Hannah says she wishes we had her Ouija board, and Emma asks, "Are you sure you girls won't be scared?"
Gabriel reassures her. "We'll keep our bedroom window open. The girls can call if they need anything."
We go out to stay about nine o'clock, and Hannah tells me it's a dark night, without any moon.
"Hang on to me, Mandy," she says, "I've got the flashlight." Then we start giggling because that's crazy, the dark is no different for me.
We settle in, and the temperature's dropped enough that the blankets feel good. About the time Hannah's saying we should have got hot chocolate instead of cold drinks, Aunt Emma comes out.
"I've brought you girls a couple of my flannel nightgowns," she says. "I don't want either of you getting sick this close to Christmas."
And after she leaves we pull them on over our T-shirts and underpants.
And maybe it's that, being out of the house in mainly underwear, that makes this night seem wild and wicked and not a night to just let end.
"You sleepy, Hannah?" I ask.
"No."
"I wish we could do something, go someplace."
A car drives by on the road and slows down.
"Mandy," says Hannah. "The lights picked up our tent."
She pauses, draws in her breath, whispers, "What if it's a kidnapper? Or a serial killer?" Hannah is faking fright, and I realize she feels the excitement in this night the way I do.
"Hannah, save me. I'm too young to die," I say, trying to sound terrified.
Hannah switches to her phony voice, the one she used with the Ouija board. "It might be," she says, spacing her words, "the Texas ax murderer. The one who likes young girls!"
She grabs me so fast I scream before I can help it, and she says, "Shush!"
"You two all right down there?" Emma calls.
"We're fine, thank you," Hannah calls back.
I hear her move to the foot of the tent and undo a couple of snaps.
"Mandy," she says, and this time her voice really is a bit shaky, "the car's backing up." Then, and her voice is altogether different, "Mandy, I think it's Ted's car ... It
is.
"
She's gripping my arm and undoing the rest of the snaps. "Be quiet," she says and pulls me, almost running, toward the street.
Almost running, and it feels like flying;
I'm moving fast along the lawn in Aunt Emma's nightgown. My bare feet pound on winter-dry cold grass, pound down on stinging thistles, and cool air blows up my legs. Hannah says, "Careful," just as we bump up against Ted's car.
"You OK, Mandy?" It's Ryan's voice. There's a pause and then he adds, "Pretty sexy clothes."
"You like?" asks Hannah.
Ted ignores the two of them. "You shouldn't be barefoot, Mandy. You could step on a piece of glass or something." He must realize how fussy he sounds. "You want to go into town for something to eat?"
"Now?" Hannah asks. "We can't..."
"Why not?" I hear myself saying, and then I'm getting in the front seat next to Ted, and Hannah's in the back with Ryan.
And for an hour we drive around town, ducking every time we meet another car because Hannah and I are in Aunt Emma's nightgowns.
Except at the hamburger place, where we get french fries and Hannah knows the girl at the drive-in window. "Sit up and say something, Mandy," she whispers. "We'll pretend we're going to a costume party."
And then, after all that hiding, we're driving along listening to the radio when suddenly Hannah says, "Ted, stop."
She reaches past me to turn the music up loud, and in another minute all four of us are out in the middle of the road, dancing. Dancing in the headlights of Ted's car, lights that shine through my eyelids when I turn toward them.
Cars go past and everyone honks, and the guys are laughing as hard as we are.
Then Ted says, "That's a police cruiser," and we scramble back inside his car.
We're sitting in the
As though Hannah and my aunt have each caught some small part of my thoughts, Hannah says she wishes we had her Ouija board, and Emma asks, "Are you sure you girls won't be scared?"
Gabriel reassures her. "We'll keep our bedroom window open. The girls can call if they need anything."
We go out to stay about nine o'clock, and Hannah tells me it's a dark night, without any moon.
"Hang on to me, Mandy," she says, "I've got the flashlight." Then we start giggling because that's crazy, the dark is no different for me.
We settle in, and the temperature's dropped enough that the blankets feel good. About the time Hannah's saying we should have got hot chocolate instead of cold drinks, Aunt Emma comes out.
"I've brought you girls a couple of my flannel nightgowns," she says. "I don't want either of you getting sick this close to Christmas."
And after she leaves we pull them on over our T-shirts and underpants.
And maybe it's that, being out of the house in mainly underwear, that makes this night seem wild and wicked and not a night to just let end.
"You sleepy, Hannah?" I ask.
"No."
"I wish we could do something, go someplace."
A car drives by on the road and slows down.
"Mandy," says Hannah. "The lights picked up our tent."
She pauses, draws in her breath, whispers, "What if it's a kidnapper? Or a serial killer?" Hannah is faking fright, and I realize she feels the excitement in this night the way I do.
"Hannah, save me. I'm too young to die," I say, trying to sound terrified.
Hannah switches to her phony voice, the one she used with the Ouija board. "It might be," she says, spacing her words, "the Texas ax murderer. The one who likes young girls!"
She grabs me so fast I scream before I can help it, and she says, "Shush!"
"You two all right down there?" Emma calls.
"We're fine, thank you," Hannah calls back.
I hear her move to the foot of the tent and undo a couple of snaps.
"Mandy," she says, and this time her voice really is a bit shaky, "the car's backing up." Then, and her voice is altogether different, "Mandy, I think it's Ted's car ... It
is.
"
She's gripping my arm and undoing the rest of the snaps. "Be quiet," she says and pulls me, almost running, toward the street.
Almost running, and it feels like flying;
I'm moving fast along the lawn in Aunt Emma's nightgown. My bare feet pound on winter-dry cold grass, pound down on stinging thistles, and cool air blows up my legs. Hannah says, "Careful," just as we bump up against Ted's car.
"You OK, Mandy?" It's Ryan's voice. There's a pause and then he adds, "Pretty sexy clothes."
"You like?" asks Hannah.
Ted ignores the two of them. "You shouldn't be barefoot, Mandy. You could step on a piece of glass or something." He must realize how fussy he sounds. "You want to go into town for something to eat?"
"Now?" Hannah asks. "We can't..."
"Why not?" I hear myself saying, and then I'm getting in the front seat next to Ted, and Hannah's in the back with Ryan.
And for an hour we drive around town, ducking every time we meet another car because Hannah and I are in Aunt Emma's nightgowns.
Except at the hamburger place, where we get french fries and Hannah knows the girl at the drive-in window. "Sit up and say something, Mandy," she whispers. "We'll pretend we're going to a costume party."
And then, after all that hiding, we're driving along listening to the radio when suddenly Hannah says, "Ted, stop."
She reaches past me to turn the music up loud, and in another minute all four of us are out in the middle of the road, dancing. Dancing in the headlights of Ted's car, lights that shine through my eyelids when I turn toward them.
Cars go past and everyone honks, and the guys are laughing as hard as we are.
Then Ted says, "That's a police cruiser," and we scramble back inside his car.
We're sitting in the
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