The Old Willis Place

blankets for myself, not nearly as cozy as Lissa's soft, clean bed, and opened the book. Just inside the front cover, spidery handwriting proclaimed, "This book belongs to me, Lilian Willis."
    Well, not anymore, I thought. It's mine now.
    As the wind murmured through the cracks in the shed's walls, I could almost hear my mother's voice reading to me the way she once did. It would be lovely to cuddle up beside her while Georgie sat nearby, building block towers and pretending not to listen. We'd have hot chocolate by the fire, and slabs of devil's food cake. So warm, so cozy, rain falling outside, firelight glowing inside.
    Drowsy-eyed, I let the book drop to my side. Snuggling deeper under the covers, I drifted into dreams of happy days with Mother and Daddy.

    I slept most of the day, but Georgie didn't come back till after dark. Nero heard him before I did. He leapt from his place beside me, his ears pricked up, and ran to the door to welcome my brother.
    "Where have you been?" I asked him.
    Georgie flopped down on his pile of blankets, shaking off water like a dog. "You should have come with me. I went to the trailer and I—"
    "Did you see Lissa?"
    "I saw her and her father." He paused a second. "And the police. Mr. Morrison—that's their last name, I heard the police say it—called them about the bike. One cop said kids from town probably stole it, but the other said strange things happen here. He told them how none of the caretakers stay long. How some of them spread stories about ghosts and other weird stuff."
    "Boooooo," I moaned in a ghostly voice. "Boooooo!"
    We laughed, knowing exactly who was to blame for the caretakers' abrupt departures.
    "What did Lissa's father say?" I asked.
    "He just laughed, but Lissa told the police she's sure people are hiding in the woods. She feels them watching her. The policeman said they were the same kids who stole the bike. He thinks they live in those houses across the highway.
    "Was Lissa scared?"
    Georgie shook his head. "She seemed more mad than anything. If you ask me, she's kind of spoiled. You know, only child and all that. I bet she always gets her own way."
    I picked up Nero and rubbed his head with my chin. The cat purred, but I frowned. What did Georgie know about Lissa? He was a boy, after all. He didn't know anything about girls. Lissa was nice, I could tell. She'd be a good friend, if only—if only, if only, if only.
    "The policeman warned Lissa to stay close to the trailer and not to go to Miss Lilian's house," Georgie went on. "If Lissa and her father see anything suspicious, he wants them to call right away."
    I lay on my back with Nero on my chest, purring so loudly I could feel his whole body vibrating. "I'm glad Mr. Morrison doesn't believe in ghosts," I said. "It would be awful if he quit. He and Lissa are much more interesting than the grumpy old men who usually take the job."
    Georgie shrugged. "He sure was mad about the bike."
    "I'm mad about the bike, too."
    "I said I was sorry." Georgie rubbed his hair dry with a blanket and took off his wet clothes. In a pair of baggy pants that used to belong to Mr. Potter and a sweatshirt he'd found in the woods, Georgie looked smaller than ever.
    I got to my feet, tired of being indoors. "Let's see what they're doing now."
    The night air was cold and thick with mist. The rain had stopped, but the trees were dripping and the ground was wet. We mucked through the woods and across the field. In the gloom, we saw the trailer's cheerful lighted windows.
    Lissa and her father were in the living room playing checkers. MacDuff lay beside Lissa, his nose on his paws, sound asleep.
    "We should borrow the checkers, too," Georgie whispered. "I'm tired of playing with stones and acorns. Just think, a real board instead of squares scratched in the dirt."
    I put my finger to my lips. "Hush. Do you want to wake MacDuff?"
    We watched Mr. Morrison win the game by capturing Lissa's last king. "Time for bed, kiddo," he said.
    "Just wait till tomorrow night." Lisa smiled and kissed him good night. "I'll beat you."
    "We'll see about that." Her father got to his feet and turned off the light.
    Georgie and I sneaked around to Lissa's window and hopped up on the cinder block. She was already in bed, reading. I squinted hard at the title. Lassie Come-Home —one of my favorites. I longed to read it again. I'd begged Daddy to let me have a collie just like Lassie, a dog who would love me best of all and be loyal and true. But he'd