The next two days were a blur. It was as if Walter had dropped off the face of the planet. He wasn’t on the bus either morning, and Sam didn’t catch him lurking or spying around any corners. Something was definitely off with the guy. Sam was more than happy that he had disappeared for the time being.
He hung around with Cody, Javon, and AJ during lunch each day, but no one would divulge any more details about the late-night adventure they were planning.
“It’ll be the rush of your life, Maestro” was all Cody said. “Meet us on the Tenth Line. On the side of the road under the old willow.”
Part of Sam was happy he’d made a few friends — one female one in particular — but the other part was thinking it was going to be short-lived. He kept worrying they’d drop him instantly if he backed out of the stunt, so he played along, acting as if he couldn’t wait. All the while, though, he found himself getting more and more frantic. What if they want me to jump off the roof of the school, or something dumb like that? How am I going to get myself out of it? He desperately hoped the stunt would just be something stupid but harmless.
At home Miranda was being far too nice, which made Sam wonder what she was up to. Whenever his sister was this sweet, it meant she wanted something. Still, he did his best not to push her buttons. The last thing he needed was to attract any unnecessary attention from his parents.
“How are things going, Sam?” his mother asked when he arrived home from school on Friday. She was sitting in the living room across from the kitchen, watching the news channel.
He shrugged. “All right, I guess.” He grabbed a pear from the kitchen counter and threw himself onto the couch opposite her.
“How’s your school work coming along? What are you working on?”
Sam had tons of homework for the weekend, including three pages of math, a science test to study for, the rest of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” to read, and a one-page summary of the story to write. “Bunch of stuff. Nothing too interesting.” He bit into the pear.
Elizabeth reached for the remote and turned off the TV. She frowned at her son. “Are you okay, Sam? Have you made any friends yet?”
Sam flushed. What an insult! Of course, he’d made friends. It was as if his mother still thought of him as that awkward little kid nobody liked. He had to set her straight.
“Sure. A few.” He took another bite of pear. “One guy, Javon Willis. A girl, AJ. And another guy, Cody Barns. They’re really cool.”
Sam’s father popped up in the doorway. “Barns? Did you say Barns?”
He was wearing a toque, gloves, and a heavy sweatshirt. His eyes were dark and sunken. The skin on his face was pale and drawn. Sam was alarmed by his appearance.
“Are you, uh, okay, Dad? No offence, but you look horrible.”
“Never mind how I look. Just answer the question.”
Sam froze. He swallowed a chewed-up piece of pear. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had barked at him like that. Just because he’s sick doesn’t give him the right to go off on me like that. Sam wanted to yell something back, swear, or do something worse, but instead he willed himself to be calm. Suddenly, he was really looking forward to Saturday night.
“Yeah, uh, Barns. He’s my new friend, Cody.”
His father paced and muttered to himself. “Barns, Barns … can’t be. It’s a common name.”
Sam and his mother exchanged curious glances.
Robert stopped pacing and fixed his glassy eyes on Sam. “Where does this Cody live? What street?”
“I dunno.” When his father seemed to get more agitated, he added, “He gets on the bus at the corner of Elm Street and Arlen Avenue.”
As soon as those words were out of Sam’s mouth, it was as if he’d taken a swing at his father or something. The man stomped around the room, ranting and raving about how no son of his was going to be friends with no Barns kid. And if Sam didn’t obey, he’d be grounded for life.
Obey? Sam clamped his teeth. He’s treating me like I’m some kind of animal.
Sam’s mother tried to diffuse the situation. “It’s all right, honey. Sam’s got a good head on his shoulders. I trust him. If he thinks this boy is okay —”
Robert waved one hand furiously. “He’s too young to know what’s okay and what’s not okay. Don’t you get it? Looks are deceiving. First you think people are nice, next thing you know, they’re forcing you to do things you really don’t want to do. Crazy things. Stupid things. Things with horrible consequences. Things that will haunt you for the rest of your life!”
Sam’s jaw dropped. Could his father possibly know what he and Cody were up to? Did his father plant some sort of bug on him? Have some kind of nanny cam set up in his room? Was he spying on him? Reading his email? Tracking his computer activity? How could he possibly know?
“Calm down, dear,” his mother said to her husband. “You’re really not well. You need some rest. Why don’t you go and have a nap?”
Robert frowned and took a deep breath. He looked at his wife, then at Sam. “Just stay away from that Barns boy, you hear me?”
Sam nodded once. His father stared at him for a few more seconds, then headed upstairs.
As soon as his father was out of sight, he jumped off the sofa. “He treats me like I’m five years old!”
“Sam,” his mother almost whispered, “I’m starting to worry about your father. He hasn’t been himself lately. He’s always freezing. He can’t seem to shake this flu and he’s refusing to go to the doctor.”
Ever since they had moved into the old house, Sam had noticed his dad acting increasingly strange. And that never happened with Robert MacLean. Everything about his father was clockwork. Cut and dried. And his dad was never sick. Never. Still, a stupid cold didn’t give him the right to attack Sam like that. And why? For making a friend?
What made matters worse, was that Sam desperately wanted to talk to his dad about the weird red bike, especially since his father was the only other person who had seen it. Sam needed to make sure it had actually been there — otherwise he’d have to consider that he was hallucinating. But there was no way he could speak to his dad now. The best thing to do was to avoid him for the time being. Avoid him at all cost.
Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him.
“Man,” Sam said to himself. “Can this Irving guy write a sentence that isn’t a thousand words long?”
He was stretched across his bed reading. It was almost 10:00 p.m. when his phone vibrated. “Hey,” he said, “what’s doin’?”
“Nothin’. You?”
Mike and Sam could say heaps without saying anything at all.
That Washington Irving dude should take lessons from us, thought Sam. His story would have been half as long.
“Doing my homework. Are they piling it on you guys, too?”
“Pretty much,” Mike said. “Hey, listen, I think I can get my dad to drive me up there tomorrow.”
“Uh … tomorrow?”
Thoughts zipped through Sam’s mind at lightning speed. It would be great to see Mike, but he couldn’t cancel on Cody, either. Cody would think Sam was chickening out and that would be the end of their friendship and his reputation. On the other hand, Mike was a cool guy. If he came along, he’d make Sam look good in front of Cody and Javon, and most important, in front of AJ. But could he count on Mike to go along with the goofy — possibly dangerous — stunt? Sam was about to tell Mike everything when another call came in.
“Hang on.” He put Mike on hold and took the other call.
“Hey, Maestro.”
It was Cody.
Perfect timing, thought Sam. “What’s up, man?”
“You still in for tomorrow night?”
“Sure. Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just checking. I don’t want to waste my time heading all the way up the Tenth Line if you’re gonna back out.”
“I don’t back out of things. I’ll be there. Midnight, right?”
“Midnight,” Cody said.
Mike was back on the phone. “So what do you think? Should I ask my dad?”
“Sure.” Sam had decided not to tell Mike what was up. It would be better to fill him in on the details in person.
“Great. What’s the address again?”
Sam sighed. “Number four Sleepy Hollow Lane.”
Mike laughed. “Oh, right, like that horror movie.”
“Ghost story.”
“Whatever. I’ll get my dad to do a Google map. We’ll shoot for four o’clock.”
“Call me if you get lost in some cow field.”
Mike laughed.
Sam pressed end. He sat motionless on his bed for a while, contemplating his situation. On one hand, he was happy he was going to see Mike. On the other hand, he’d pretty much resigned himself to the fact that Mike wasn’t going to be in his life a whole heck of a lot anymore — at least not until Sam got his driver’s licence. Mike visiting so soon was a bit like pulling off a Band-Aid prematurely and ripping the scab off with it. The old wound was fresh once again as all Sam’s anger and resentment for leaving his friend and the neighbourhood he loved gushed back.
He stared at the papers on his bed. Sleepy Hollow. Who would ever want to live in a dumb place like that or this one? He snatched the story and whipped it across the room. The pages flopped into a mess on the floor. Two words caught his eye: Ichabod Crane.
Suddenly, Sam found himself thinking about Walter.