The Girl in the Window

By Lindsey Hobson

When Izzy breaks a window in the creepy house next door, her summer plans suddenly go from playing baseball in the backyard to doing yard work for mysterious Mr. Johnson to pay for the damage. Just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she encounters a ghost girl with a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monarch Educational Services, L.L.C.
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781957656380

Lindsey Hobson

Lindsey is an award-winning author from Southwest Missouri, where she lives with her husband and daughter. She is the author of two picture books, BLOSSOM'S WISH and STOP! as well as several short stories. Although Lindsey enjoys writing for all ages, she believes children's books contain a special kind of magic.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Izzy pumped her legs up and down, sending her bicycle sailing down Broadway Street, leaving her siblings far behind. If she made it home before them, she could be the first one up to bat in their backyard baseball game. She glanced back over her shoulder. Her brother and sister would be easy to beat, but her best friend, Max, might already be at her house. Everyone knew Max took forever to bat. He was always trying to use physics to figure out the perfect angle to hold his bat, or the perfect distance to stand from the plate so he could hit the ball further than Izzy. But everyone knew Isabel Gordon was the best batter on the block, and in her opinion, math had no place in baseball.

Izzy squashed down the doubt that bubbled up in her stomach. Every day this summer, Max met them in their backyard at exactly 2:00 P.M., and they played baseball until dinnertime. But for the past two days, Max didn’t show up. Izzy felt guilty. She had made fun of him, and he left in a huff. Then, the guilt made her feel angry. They always teased each other; she didn’t know why this time was different.

As her house came into view, a tingle crept up the back of Izzy’s neck, like the strange sensation of being watched by someone from across the room. She ignored her better judgment and slowed her bike to a halt in the middle of the road and glanced around nervously, trying to find the source.

Izzy shuddered. She was smack-dab in front of creepy Mr. Johnson’s place. Despite the sunny July day, the enormous three-story house lay steeped in shadows. All the kids at Oak Hollow Middle School knew to steer clear of the decrepit mansion and the mysterious man who lived there.

Izzy scanned the porch and first floor windows for signs of life. Nothing. She raised her eyes to the second floor. A flash of movement in a window caught her attention. She squinted against the harsh sunlight, barely making out the outline of someone with long hair, who vanished behind the faded blue curtain.

What are you doing?

Izzy jumped and turned toward the voice, half expecting to see Mr. Johnson himself, standing beside her in the street. Instead, she found her sister, Anna, who was staring intently at her, head tilted slightly to one side.

Nothing. I just, uh… I thought I saw someone in the window.

Eww, really? How creepy! Anna said, although her voice sounded more excited than creeped out. Do you think it was Mr. Johnson? I mean, of course it was, who else could it be?

Maybe, Izzy answered. I didn’t get a very good look. Izzy rubbed her arms, suddenly chilly even though the air was thick with humidity. Let’s go.

Anna pouted her glossy lips in obvious disappointment. Izzy bit her tongue. If she told her sister it had looked more like a girl in the window, Anna would obsess over it for days, and frankly, Izzy wanted to forget about what she may or may not have seen. She couldn’t help but think about the worst rumor she had ever heard about the Johnson house—that Mr. Johnson’s daughter was poisoned. Izzy scrubbed a hand across the back of her neck, trying to rub away the weird sensation that still prickled her skin.

Izzy took off, eager to put some distance between herself and the creepy house. Anna kept pace with her, chatting away about some fashion article she had read in the latest teen magazine. Izzy vaguely listened as they rode past the empty lot that separated the Gordons’ home from the Johnsons’ house. Usually when Anna talked about celebrities and fashion, Izzy was quick to roll her eyes and change the subject. Which made Anna roll her eyes and declare Izzy couldn’t possibly understand because Izzy wasn’t a teenager yet. As if thirteen was so much more mature than twelve. For once, though, Izzy was happy for the distraction and nodded here and there.

The sound of bicycle tires on asphalt pulled Izzy out of her daze.

Geez, guys, her little brother, Steven, panted as he finally caught up to them in front of their house. He tugged at his Mario Brothers t-shirt that was plastered to his sweaty body. You know my legs can’t ride that fast!

Izzy looked at his flushed face and grinned; there was just something about Steven that could always cheer her up. She dismissed what had to be her imagination running away from her and forced herself to shake it off. After all, like Anna had said, who else could it have been besides old man Johnson?

She reached out and pinched her brother on his sweaty arm. Last one to the diamond has to get the ball out from under the shed.

Steven and Anna groaned.

Their only game ball was still stuck under the shed where it had rolled two days ago, which led to the fight, or whatever it was, between her and Max. When he had reached under the shed to retrieve it, something hissed. Max had screamed, Izzy made fun of him, and he stormed off. After that, no one had been willing to try again, but Izzy was determined to play ball today—Max or no Max.

Jumping the curb, she raced across their yard and dumped her bike at the corner of the garage where she found Max waiting for them, baseball bat in hand.

What took you guys so long? he asked, thudding the end of the bat against his shoe.

Izzy glared up at him. "What took us so long? We’ve been waiting on you for TWO days!"

Max cleared his throat. I’ve been busy.

Oh, yeah? With what? she demanded, a little more harshly than she meant to. She knew she should probably apologize, but she didn’t know why he had been so upset. Something was changing between them, and Izzy didn’t like it.

Before Max could answer, Anna and Steven zoomed past on their bikes, headed toward the diamond.

Steven stomped on his brakes, causing his tires to kick up a cloud of dust. We beat you! he yelled. You have to go get the ball!

Ugh. Izzy sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

CHAPTER TWO

I sabel Gordon steps up to the plate—she’s the first twelve-year-old to be drafted to the major leagues.

Izzy tried to ignore her brother as she got ready for the pitch. She swung the bat. SWOOSH!

A swing and a miss! A terrible start for the rookie.

Shut up, Steven! Izzy yelled in her little brother’s general direction. She knocked the end of the bat against home plate and got back into her stance. She stared down her sister, who was standing on the makeshift pitcher’s mound, and nodded once.

SWOOOSH!

Strike two! The coach does not look happy, Steven continued in his best announcer voice.

I said STOP, Steven! Izzy glared at him, squeezing the bat’s worn-out grip. Get ready! she hollered to Max, who was covering the outfield. This one’s coming your way! She lined her feet up shoulder width apart, bent her knees, and raised the bat to her shoulder.

CRACK!

Holy smokes! said Anna, instinctively ducking her head.

It’s a HOME RUN! And the crowd goes wild! Steven yelled into his makeshift microphone.

SMASH!

Oh, no! Was that a window? Izzy slowed as she rounded second base. Mom is going to freak! She hung her head. This was the second window Izzy had broken this summer.

Not just any window, Anna said while jogging from the pitcher’s mound. She stood beside Izzy and wiped the sweat from her eyes. That ball was headed straight for Mr. Johnson’s place.

Steven, for once, was silent.

Impossible! Max shook his head. That house is at least 300 feet away. That would mean she hit the ball the length of a football field! Izzy rolled her eyes at her best friend’s annoying habit of spewing facts whenever he was nervous. Impossible, he said again.

But the girls didn’t stick around for any more impossibles. They were already running across the big, empty lot beside their house, toward the scene of the crime.

They quickly checked for cars, then hurried across the side road separating the empty lot from the Johnsons’ house and stopped at the edge of the yard. Slowly, they inched across the exposed part of the lawn and crouched behind a bush, surveying the damage.

Look, Anna whispered, pointing to a first floor window on the side of the house. Shards of glass littered the peeling window frame and covered the overgrown bushes below.

Nooooo, Izzy moaned. What am I going to do?

The window curtains were closed tight, making it impossible to see anything inside. Suddenly, a light snapped on in the front room, casting an eerie shadow figure on the curtain. Frozen with fear, their eyes followed the dark shape as it crossed the room and yanked the long curtain away from the shattered pane.

RUN! Anna hissed.

The girls took off back to the safety of their yard, running into the boys halfway.

What’s going on? Steven asked, having found his voice again.

GO! Anna yelled without slowing.

The four didn’t stop until they reached their own backyard, where they collapsed, winded, onto the patio furniture.

Izzy sank her forehead onto her crossed arms, her curly brown hair hiding her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she could go back in time—back to when she wasn’t such a screw-up. She would give anything to open her eyes and see her dad flipping burgers on the grill and her mom bringing out bowls of freshly sliced watermelon for everyone to enjoy. She peeked one eye open, but nothing had changed. Mom was working late, the grill was cold, and the window was still broken.

What happened? Max asked between gasps.

It was Mr. Johnson’s window, all right, Izzy said, her voice muffled against her arms.

"We saw him. And he almost saw us!" added Anna.

All three heads swiveled to Izzy, their eyes boring holes into her skull. She lifted her head and looked at them. You can’t tell. Please! Mom does NOT need this right now. I’ll think of something. I just need some time.

They nodded in unison. A solemn pact between three siblings and their best friend.

"If it was anyone but Mr. Johnson, I could probably work off the money doing chores or something. But him..." Izzy trailed off.

The group was silent. They had all heard the rumors about Mr. Johnson at school. With each year that passed, the stories became more and more sinister.

I heard he hasn’t left his house in thirty years! said Steven.

I heard some kids knocked on his door once, on a dare, whispered Max, and they haven’t been seen since.

I heard if you walk by the house at night, you can still hear their ghosts knocking, added Anna.

The same creepy-crawly feeling Izzy felt earlier when she stopped in front of Mr. Johnson’s house prickled her neck. Her eyes darted toward the Victorian-style home. She scanned the second story windows, but she was too far away to see anything clearly. Did she really see someone hiding behind the curtains?

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted her thoughts.

Who could that be? Anna wondered. Mom said she wouldn’t be home until later.

The four sat frozen as they heard the engine shut off and a car door open and close.

Anna? Izzy? Their mom called a few seconds later from inside the house. Steven?

Relief flooded Izzy, and she sprang to her feet.

We better go inside, said Anna. See you later, Max.

"And remember… not a word about the window, okay? Promise?" Izzy asked.

Everyone nodded.

CHAPTER THREE

Izzy pushed the sliding glass door open and stepped into the kitchen. Mom was standing by the island, behind a stack of pizza boxes and some two-liter bottles of soda.

You’re home early, Izzy squeaked.

Mom cocked a perfect black eyebrow. Is that a bad thing?

No, not at all! Anna pushed past her siblings, dashed to the cabinet, and pulled out