Caught in the Web
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT. THE HOUSE WAS DEAD QUIET, EXCEPT FOR …
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Madison stared at the monitor, stuck. Her finger was pressing the A key over and over again. She remembered something her English teacher told her once about letting ideas go. Mr. Gibbons said to just “keep writing no matter what lands on the page.” So she wrote whatever came into her head.
Here I am on TweenBlurt and I’m frozen in the fishbowl. Like a big fish stick.
Ick.
It wasn’t exactly the beginning of the scary story Madison was looking for. It was late Saturday morning, and Madison could hear Mom grinding coffee downstairs. The whole house smelled like hazelnuts.
Madison pulled her laptop over to her bed and lay down on her stomach to type. She was tired and wanted to surf the Net a little before going to the mall with Fiona and Aimee.
“Are you kidding me?” Mom shouted, walking into her room. “Look at this mess!”
Madison looked up from her laptop, surprised. “Mom!”
Her mother picked up a pile of clothes from near the doorway and dumped it in a wicker hamper a few feet away.
“Maddie, Aimee’s mom will be here in a little while! Look at this mess! I said no mall until you clean your room—and I meant it!”
“But, Mom … I was just …” She closed the laptop lid and jumped up.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses, Madison Finn. Pick up, get dressed, and get downstairs. And put that computer away! You have ten minutes.”
Mom shut the bedroom door behind her.
Madison knew what to expect when she finally did head downstairs. In addition to a lecture about putting dirty clothes away and keeping her room clean, Madison would also get a minilecture on the perils of “computer overuse.”
Quickly Madison cleaned up. She pushed some papers under the bed and shoved sneakers and shoes into the already overflowing closet. She couldn’t miss going to the mall with friends—and without Mom. Besides, after shopping at the mall, she was going right over to Fiona’s house for their spooky sleepover. She definitely couldn’t miss that!
Madison stuffed some clean underwear, her Lisa Simpson nightshirt, jeans, and a sweatshirt for tomorrow into her bag.
Luckily Mrs. Gillespie was a few minutes late. It gave Madison more time to straighten up all her piles and make her bed neater. She even picked up Phin’s toys off the floor.
When Mrs. Gillespie honked the car horn, Madison had passed the clean room test. She ran out to meet her friends.
Aimee and Fiona were bursting with energy when Madison climbed into the car, bouncing on the seats like they’d eaten way too much sugar.
The mall was crowded when they got there. Before Mrs. Gillespie scooted off to run her own errands, she told the girls to meet back at the North Fountain by four o’clock sharp.
As Aimee’s mom walked away, the three friends bolted for Chez Moi—a casual boutique with faded denim skirts and lace-up boots in the window. Aimee wanted to try on what the mannequins were wearing. Madison wanted to head toward the back of the store, where the hair scrunchies and jewelry were. Fiona stopped and took a camouflage shirt off the rack.
“For the warrior look,” she said, laughing. “Tarzan-ella.”
Aimee grabbed it out of her hand and hung it back up. She pulled out a cropped T-shirt with sequins on the top that spelled FOXY, the same shirt the mannequin had been wearing
“I like this one, don’t you?” Aimee asked.
“My mother would never let me get that,” Fiona said.
“Well, your mom isn’t here and neither is mine. Try it on,” Aimee said, pressing it into Fiona’s hand and taking one for herself and Madison. They scurried over to the changing rooms.
Fiona came out and modeled the T-shirt. Madison could see muscles in Fiona’s stomach, from soccer, probably. Aimee had them, too, from dance. The shirt fit Fiona perfectly everywhere else, too.
“You try it on now, Maddie,” Fiona said, excited. She grabbed Madison’s arm and dragged her into the dressing room.
Madison slipped the shirt over her head. It looked okay around the middle even if Madison’s belly was softer looking, but the shirt hung down lower than it had on Fiona. Madison wondered why.
“How’s it look?” Aimee asked through the dressing room curtain. “Let’s see!”
Madison stood sideways and backways and frontways in front of the mirror. The lights in the dressing room made her skin look almost green. She also thought the word FOXY was dumb. And there was absolutely nothing filling it out on top. Not like Fiona. Madison whipped the top off and stepped back out in her own loose shirt.
“It’s not me. You should get it, though, Fiona. It looked so good on you.”
“Ha! You’re kidding, right? My dad wouldn’t let me out of the house in this.” Fiona put the top back on the rack. “Aimee’s the one who should get it.”
Aimee shrugged. “I don’t have any allowance money left.”
A salesperson meandered over toward them, so the friends turned to dash. They left Chez Moi and went to check out some other stores.
It was over an hour before Madison, Fiona, or Aimee saw even one person they recognized, which was strange, considering malls were the number-one place to see and be seen. Madison was especially surprised she didn’t spy Poison Ivy anywhere.
Passing the food court, Madison saw Egg’s sister, Mariah, sitting with friends. She could see the glimmer of Mariah’s eyebrow ring. Her now black-dyed hair was wrapped in a polka-dotted bandanna.
She was all the way across the food court, so Madison couldn’t yell. She wasn’t sure if Mariah had seen her, anyway. Madison wanted to walk over and say hello, but Aimee wouldn’t budge.
“You don’t wanna do that, Maddie,” Aimee said.
Madison looked puzzled. “Why not? Mariah is so nice. And she’s your friend, too.”
“She’s all of our friends, Aimee,” Fiona added.
“You guys!” Aimee moaned. “I know from my brothers that freshmen like her cannot be bothered to talk to lowly seventh graders like us except far away from school property, and the mall doesn’t count. Besides, she’s with boys from the high school, which makes it that much worse. It would just be too, too embarrassing, okay? Can we just not do this?”
“Those are high school boys?” Fiona gasped. The boys dressed all in black like Mariah. “They’re not very cute, are they? I thought high school boys were hotter than that.”
“It’s just Mariah,” Madison argued. “She’d be happy to say hello.”
“Maddie,” Aimee moaned.
“Okay, okay, fine,” Madison said. As she turned to walk away, Madison looked over once more, only this time Mariah spotted her. She waved. Madison felt her heart leap a little. Mariah was a friend—and not just some too-cool freshman. Mariah’s boyfriends didn’t wave, but that was okay.
“See?” Madison nudged Aimee, who saw the wave, too.
They both waved back. Mariah went back to eating french fries.
“I guess I was wrong,” Aimee said sheepishly as they wandered away.
“I guess,” Madison said. She didn’t want to make Aimee feel bad, even if she had been wrong.
“Look over there!” Fiona yelled all of a sudden. She spotted the big sign that read PARTY TOWN. It was a supermarket for cheap Halloween stuff: costumes, makeup, decorations, and props in one-stop shopping.
The first costume they saw was on display at the front of the store. It was a cavewoman outfit. “We probably couldn’t wear that at school,” Madison said, joking around.
“It would make my butt look big, too, I think.” Aimee laughed.
“Your butt!” Fiona laughed. “Aimee, you barely have a butt.”
Aimee twisted around to see what her behind looked like. “I do too.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Madison grumbled. She hated it when Aimee acted fat.
Fiona ran to the back of the store and pulled a grass skirt and green tights from one shelf. She’d decided to borrow one of her mom’s Hawaiian short-sleeved shirts and tie it up at the waist. She could wear her braids up, too, with flowers, in her hair. The party store had silk flowers, and she picked out purple, yellow, and coral ones.
Aimee already had most of her ballerina costume at home, so she didn’t need to get anything. She found some pink ribbon to wrap into braids and a bun on top of her head.
“This ribbon will totally match my new lipstick shade: Think Pink,” Aimee said, admiring the bright color.
Still unable to find a costume, Madison picked through the mask sections, tried on wigs in every length and color, and even put on a Dr. Seuss Cat in the Hat hat. It was too big and floppy, though, and kept sliding down her head. Plus it made her think of the first-grade play. She wanted to look older, not younger. She wanted to look like junior high, not elementary school.
Aimee and Fiona bought their stuff, and the three of them went off to meet Mrs. Gillespie at the fountain. Aimee and Fiona opened their bags to show Mrs. Gillespie the costumes. Aimee’s mother gave Madison a tight squeeze and whispered, “I’m sure you’ll come up with a great costume in no time, Madison.”
Madison got quieter than quiet. Was Mrs. Gillespie right? She racked her brain for great costume ideas … story ideas … over-thinking, as usual.
In the car, Aimee and Fiona were talking about the stars of the newest teen movie, Breaking Up Is Easy, which was showing in the Mall-Plex theater.
“Can we go see that, Mom?” Aimee asked.
“When they change the rating from PG-13, you can,” Mrs. Gillespie said with a chuckle. “Either that or when you’re thirteen.”
Aimee huffed. Sometimes it was such a drag to be twelve and not thirteen.
As they pulled into the Waterses’ driveway, Madison twisted her head up and sideways to peer out the car window up at the attic windows. They looked dark and spooky.
Mrs. Waters raved about Fiona’s grass skirt and Aimee’s ribbons.
Then she put her arm around Madison. “I’m sure you’ll think up a great costume, Madison,” she said.
Madison smiled, but inside she wondered why everyone kept saying that.
Mrs. Waters made hot chocolate and topped their steaming mugs with squirts of whipped cream. Then the girls moved into the den and sat on a big, comfy couch.
“I like cocoa with those teeny marshmallows more than this,” Fiona said. “But my mom got the plain kind. Sorry.”
“No biggie.” Madison nodded, taking a careful sip.
“I think we should tell ghost stories or something scary,” Aimee said, pretending to shudder.
“Yeah.” Fiona laughed a little. “Ghosts are okay to talk about. As long as we don’t have any in this house.”
Madison looked at her friend. “Well, you could.”
Fiona looked her squarely in the eye. “What are you talking about, Maddie?”
“Just that … well … there could be a ghost here,” Madison said. “Like in the attic or somewhere.”
“Are you for real?” Aimee snorted. She looked like she would fall off the couch.
“I haven’t gone up to the attic since we moved into the house,” Fiona said.
All of a sudden Aimee jumped off the couch. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. “I know who the ghost is! Maddie, remember the people who used to live in this house? You know who I mean!”
Madison hugged her knees to her chest. “You mean the Martins?” she said.
“What are you talking about?” Fiona asked. “What Martins?”
“The Martins were this family who used to live here,” Aimee explained. “I used to think their whole story was just a rumor. But maybe not!”
“You mean there’s really a ghost story about …” Fiona took a deep breath. “About this house? My house?”
Aimee squealed. “This is so cool.” The girls huddled closer together, and Madison told the whole story.
“The way the story goes is that the Martin family had this dance party one night and Mrs. Martin came up into the attic to get a ball gown or something. She wanted to look especially beautiful for the dance. Anyway, she was looking around and she went into this big chest, looking for the dress. And she was trying it on and posing in front of the mirror and—”
Madison stopped herself.
“Are you guys sure you want to hear this?” she said.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Aimee yelled.
Fiona gulped. “Go on.”
“Well, a lot of time passed. The rumor is that Mr. Martin started to get worried about his wife after an hour or so. She hadn’t come back downstairs. So he went up to look for her. Up into the attic.”
“Into my attic?” Fiona said. “You’re positive?”
Madison nodded.
“Isn’t this the spookiest? I love it!” Aimee said.
“So Mr. Martin went looking for his wife and couldn’t find her anywhere. They couldn’t figure out what happened. The whole town of Far Hills sent out a search party, and they looked all over the house and neighborhood for his missing wife. They found nothing.”
“Tell her the next part, Maddie,” Aimee said. “Fiona, the next part is the best—”
“Many years later, Mr. Martin died. Everyone said he died of a broken heart. So his family moved out of the house. And when they were moving, someone found the old chest. It was sealed shut, but they pried it open and inside …”
Fiona covered her ears. “What? Don’t tell me it was the—”
“Say it!” Aimee cheered.
“Inside the chest was … Mrs. Martin!” Madison screamed.
Fiona looked absolutely horrified.
“Or her skeleton, anyway. Some people think that Mrs. Martin had tried on the dress and then decided to hide in the trunk to surprise her husband and it closed on her, knocking her unconscious and latching shut. She never regained consciousness. Or even if she had, the chest didn’t have a safety latch inside. She was trapped forever. And ever.”
Aimee had her hand over her mouth, acting a little dramatic, as usual. “Poor Mrs. Martin stuck in a trunk! Isn’t that great!”
Fiona gasped.
“I mean, it’s awful …” Aimee whispered, “that she died and all that, but—”
“No way!” Fiona said. “This did not happen in our attic.”
Madison nodded. “It could be true.”
“Let’s go look!” Aimee said. “Right now.”