Page 2 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Polly’s eyes sparkled with moonlight dust and eagerness. She was thrilled. She was passionately excited.
Effie, on the other hand, shifted her attention back to the run-down, hopefully empty house. It was a monster. A monster of stories that swirled with rumors of murder and death. If they survived tonight and returned home safely to their beds, why, it would be a miracle.
“Are you ready?” Polly whispered.
“For what?” Effie couldn’t help but ask another question to avoid the inevitable.
Polly gave a small, stifled giggle. “To kiss the iron lion.”
“Hardly.” Effie shifted, the maple tree she hid behind offering a minuscule amount of cover. “Polly, youdorealize how juvenile this is?”
“Of course!” Polly chirped. A flash of her teeth meant her pretty face beamed in a smile. “Charles has done it, and so has Ezekiel.” The mention of their younger brothers only solidified Effie’s argument.
“Yes, and they’re fourteen and sixteen. Not of marriageable age with reputations to protect.”
“Now you sound like Mother. Let’s go!” Polly tugged on Effie’s shirtsleeve—well, the borrowed shirtsleeve from her brother. Polly had insisted they dress like young men and avoid being hindered by skirts and underskirts and corsets.
The next few seconds were a flurry of their feet pounding on the grass as they ran across the patchy yard toward the house.
Shutters tilted from the windows, leaving the dark voids in the house’s side to seem like ghouls glaring at them. The back porch tilted to the west due to its foundation having settled there. Some of the fieldstones that held it up had sunken into the ground.
Polly gripped Effie’s hand, and Effie felt little reassurance at being half dragged toward the house.
One never knew when someone was living at 322 Predicament Avenue. Tonight would be the night they’d come face-to-face with a nameless occupant. A homeless hobo. A weary,shamed woman of the night. A criminal needing a place to hide. Goodness knewwholived there! It changed. Always. There were petitions to knock the place down to eliminate such issues. All petitions had failed so far. This was, after all, private property. Owned by the Oppermans.
Effie’s toe caught a divot in the lawn, and she stumbled, her hair slipping from the loose topknot.
Polly hauled her to her feet. “We’re here,” she whispered in a conspiratorial hiss. “The bottom step. Look!” With a gleeful toss of her head, Polly hopped onto the bottom step. “Two feet!”
“You have two feet on the step,” Effie pointed out, her uneasiness growing. “But we’re supposed to be on the porch.”
“Yes.” Polly nodded with anticipation. She dropped Effie’s hand, and even the night’s faint light made it possible for Effie to see the delight in Polly’s eyes. “And here I go.”
Polly hurried up the final two steps, landing with a quiet thud onto the porch. She shifted quickly so her foot didn’t go through the gaping hole of a missing floorboard.
“Polly!” Effie’s nothing-good-is-going-to-come-from-this feeling was growing thicker by the moment. She couldn’t muster the courage to lift her foot to the bottom step, let alone follow Polly onto the porch.
Polly ignored her, tugging on the dilapidated screen door whose hinges squeaked.
“Shhh!” Effie hissed.
Polly waved her off and ran her fingers over the ornate lion’s head. Its fangs formed the portion that would knock solidly against its base.
“Hurry up!” Effie said. She shifted, looking nervously over her shoulder. Only graves. Only stones. Only possible spirits to rise from the dead, their bony arms extended, flying toward them in wraith-like glee to suck the life from the living and carry them into the afterlife.
A scream ripped through the night.
Polly froze, her lips pressed against the lion’s head.
Effie felt a chilling sensation run from her head to her toes.
The breeze stilled. The trees didn’t dare to rustle a leaf.
Another scream from inside 322 Predicament Avenue, this time with a gargled, strangled, “Noooo! Please—”
Effie waved wildly at her sister. Polly stepped to the side and pressed her nose to the windowpane. An ethereal silence followed. Effie heard her own breath escaping her nose with nervous energy. Her breathing was louder than she wished and was certain to give them away.
“Polly!” Effie whispered frantically.
