The Boggart by Susan Cooper

forward at the blue-faced hag, and she crumpled into a heap of dark clothes on the ground.
    The water fell away, and the voice dropped into silence. In the darkness the children moved again, out of a sudden appalled paralysis. Emily came down the path from the front door. She bent down by the figure in the dark witch robe, and pulled off the blue plastic mask that was held over the face by a rubber band.
    It was Maggie, blinking up at her in reproach and the beginnings of rage.

EIGHT
    Â Â Â Â Â  M AGGIE V OLNICK was an awesome sight when very angry, even wearing a bathrobe, with her hair wrapped in a towel. She seemed to be even angrier now than she had been a few moments ago, when she stalked inside to pull off her wet clothes. She stood on the stairs, glaring down at them.
    â€œI go to the trouble of dressing up to surprise you, because you aren’t allowed out, and what happens? You half drown me! You smash the furniture! And on top of everything else you have to destroy Bob’s beloved holly bush! What’s the matter with you kids? Have you completely lost your minds?”
    Emily said blankly, “The holly bush?”
    â€œOh for Pete’s sake, Emily, who are you kidding? There are holly branches all over the house — every window, every mantelpiece —” Maggie’s voice was quivering with rage. “What the hell were you doing, playing Christmas? And that insane booby trap — you could have killed me! I thought you were responsible people, not half-witted two-year-olds!”
    In a silent group they gaped up at her, baffled and shaken, all feeling suddenly ridiculous in their Halloween gear. Jessup gave a loud sniff. Barry shifted uneasily, his legs and lower body still encased in the bottom half of the rocket. He said in a low voice, “Mrs. Volnik, I swear, no one had any —”
    â€œAnd you!” Maggie yelled at him, jabbing a finger through the air. “What do you think you’re doing, playing with ten-year-olds at your age? You’re sick! Did you dream up this nasty little enterprise, eh? Is this your coked-up idea of being funny?”
    â€œ Stop it! ” Emily shrieked. Her voice was so loud it startled her as much as everyone else. But now she in turn was angry with Maggie, and she wasn’t stopping to think. “Barry didn’t do a thing, none of us did a thing! You always blame people without knowing what you’re talking about! How could we throw furniture out of the windows if we were all right down there on the street? It wasn’t us!”
    â€œThen who was it?” Maggie snapped. “Burglars?”
    Emily took a deep breath. Several black velvet ribbons from her wig fell across her eyes, and she pulled the wig off impatiently. “Maybe . . . maybe the house is haunted.”
    â€œHa!” It was half a scornful laugh, half a sneer. Maggie pulled a handful of the same black ribbons from her pocket, and held them up. “Pretty smart ghost, to use your ribbons to tie holly branches over my windows.”
    I N HIS PAJAMAS, Jessup tiptoed across the landing to Emily’s door. A floorboard creaked, and he paused, but there was no movement downstairs. He could hear a faint murmur of voices from the sitting room. Robert had come home late and was now no doubt hearing an outraged recital from Maggie.
    Jessup opened the door, very carefully. “Em?” he whispered.
    Emily switched on the angle lamp beside her bed, and tilted it down so that it gave only a little light. Even so, he could see that she had been crying.
    â€œShut the door,” she whispered back.
    Jessup turned the knob, silently, and came and sat on the edge of her bed. He said softly, “In case you wondered, it wasn’t me either.”
    â€œI know,” Emily said. “It wasn’t anybody. Not anybody real.”
    Jessup wrinkled his nose, in the way he did in math class, when the teacher offered an answer that Jessup