Chapter 2

Chapter Two IN WHICH Two Walls Are Explored by Vastly Different Methods The leaks in the roof had made all but three of the upstairs bedroom floors dangerously rotted. Their mother got one, Mallory got another, and Jared and Simon were left to share the third. By the time they were done unpacking, the dressers and nightstands of Simon's side of the room were covered in glass tanks. A few were filled with fish. The rest were crammed with mice,

lizards, and other animals that Simon had confined to mud-furnished cages. Their mother had told Simon he could bring everything but the mice. She thought they were disgusting because Simon had rescued them from a trap in Mrs. Levette's downstairs apartment. She pretended not to notice he'd brought them anyway. Jared tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress, pressing the pillow down over his head like he was smothering himself, but he couldn't sleep. He didn't mind sharing a room with Simon, but

sharing a room with cages of animals that rustled, squeaked, and scratched was eerier than sleeping alone would have been. It made him think of the thing in the walls. He'd shared a room with Simon and the critters in the city, but the animal noises had dimmed against the background of cars and sirens and people. Here, everything was unfamiliar. The creak of hinges startled him into jerking upright. There was a figure in the doorway, with a shapeless white gown and long, dark hair. Jared slid off the bed so fast he didn't even remember doing it. "It's just me," the figure whispered. It was Mallory in a nightgown. "I think I heard your squirrel." Jared stood up from a crouch, trying to decide if moving so fast meant he was a chicken or if he just had good reflexes. Simon was snoring gently in the other bed. Mallory put her hands on her hips. "Come on. It's not going to wait around for us to catch it."

Jared shook his twin's shoulder. "Simon. Wake up. New pet. New peeeeeeeeeet." Simon twitched and groaned, trying to pull the covers over his head. Mallory laughed. "Simon." Jared leaned in close, making his voice deliberately urgent. "Squirrel! Squirrel!" Simon opened his eyes and glared at them. "I was sleeping." "Mom went out to the store for milk and cereal," Mallory said, pulling the covers off him. "She said I was supposed to keep an eye on you. We don't have much time before she gets back." The three siblings crept along the dark hallways of their new house. Mallory was in the lead, walking a few paces and then stopping to listen. Every now and then there would be a scratch or a sound like small footsteps inside the walls.

The scuttling grew louder as they neared the kitchen. In the kitchen sink, Jared could see a pan crusted with the remains of the macaroni and cheese they'd had for dinner. "I think it's there. Listen," Mallory whispered. The sound stopped completely. Mallory picked up a broom and held the wooden end like a baseball bat. "I'm going to knock open the wall," she said. "Mom is going to see the hole when she gets back," Jared said. "In this house? She'll never notice." "What if you hit the squirrel?" Simon asked. "You could hurt—" "Shhhh," Mallory said. She padded across the floor in her bare feet and swung the broom handle at the wall. The blow broke through the plaster, scattering dust like flour. It settled in Mallory's hair, making her look even more ghostly. She reached into the hole and broke off a chunk of the wall.

Jared stepped closer. He could feel the hair on his arms stand up. Torn strips of cloth had been wadded up between the boards. As she snapped off more pieces, other things were revealed. The remains of curtains. Bits of tattered silk and lace. Straight pins poked into the wooden beams on either side, making a strange upward-snaking line. A doll's head lolled in one corner. Dead cockroaches were strung up like garlands. Tiny lead soldiers with melted hands and feet were scattered across the planks like a fallen army. Jagged pieces of mirror glittered from where they had been glued with ancient gum.