called the hospital tonight, but his mother came on the phone. She was very cold to me. She said Anthony didn’t want to talk to me and didn’t want to see me.
I guess I can’t blame him. I practically forced him to come here. And then …
Cally stopped writing when she heard the first high-pitched cry. Holding her pen above the diary page, as if frozen in place, she tilted her head and listened. “Mommy! Daddy!” The pen fell from her hand as she shoved the desk chair back and leapt to her feet. The cries were coming from James’s room. Shrill, frightened cries. Is he having a nightmare? Cally wondered. James had terrible nightmares when he was little. Sometimes he would wake up two or three times a night, screaming and crying. But he hadn’t had bad dreams for years, “Mommy! Daddy! Come get me!” Lurching toward the door, Cally stubbed her toe on the leg of the desk. She cried out in pain and hopped the rest of the way. “James—what’s the matter?” she heard her father calling. Heavy footsteps. More cries. Kody appeared in the hall, rubbing her eyes. Cally’s mother appeared from her bedroom, hurrying after Mr. Frasier. “Mommy, where are you?” James’s cry sounded tiny, far away. Ignoring the throbbing pain that shot up her leg, Cally hobbled after the others. Down the hall to James’s room. “James?” Mrs. Frasier choked out. Cally stopped in the doorway. Her father clicked on the ceiling light, “James? Where are you?” The first thing Cally saw was the picture book about the ugly bunny. It was carefully propped up against James’s pillow. But the sheets and blankets were tossed on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Mommy? Are you there? Daddy?” Cally could hear James’s voice so clearly. He was there in the room with them. But where? “James—are you hiding? Where are you, James?” Mrs. Frasier’s voice trembled. Her eyes were red rimmed, wide with fear. “Come get me, Mommy. It’s dark here. It’s very dark here” James’s words sent a cold shiver down Cally’s back. She saw Kody gasp and raise her hand to her mouth. “Come get me—please!” James begged. “Where are you, James?” Mrs. Frasier cried. “Please—tell us where you are!” “It’s too dark here. It’s too dark, Mommy!” Cally’s father tore desperately at the sheets, jerking them off the bed. He lurched to the closet and pulled open the door. “James?” Kody dropped to the floor and searched under the bed. Mr. Frasier moved frantically to the window and peered out. “Where are you, son?” “Come get me. Please—come get me. I’m scared, Daddy.” “Just tell us where you are!” Cally’s mother shrieked, tugging at her hair with both hands. “Tell us, James! Tell us where you are!” “It’s so dark here, Mommy. I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be here, Mommy. Come get me!” “Tell us, James!” Mrs. Frasier shrieked in a terrified voice Cally had never heard before. “Tell us where you are!” Silence. Cally gripped the doorframe, her hands as cold as ice, her heart thudding in her chest. “James? Where are you?” Mrs. Frasier repeated, sobbing.
“I’m coming to get you, James,” Cally’s father said, searching the closet again, ducking low to look under the computer table. “Don’t worry. I’m coming. Just tell me where you are.” “I’m right here, Daddy. I’m right here,” the tiny, frightened voice said. “It’s real dark here. I’m afraid. Please come get me. Please!” “Where?” Mr. Frasier repeated desperately. “Where? Where?” Cally jumped, startled, as her mother let out a shrill scream. “He’s there!” Mrs. Frasier shrieked, pointing. “He’s right there!”
Chapter 21
“Huh? Where?” Mr. Frasier turned to gape at his wife. Cally’s mother pointed furiously. “There! James is right there!” Cally didn’t see anything. Her mother was pointing to thin air. “He’s there! Get him! Get James!” Mrs. Frasier insisted. “But I
I guess I can’t blame him. I practically forced him to come here. And then …
Cally stopped writing when she heard the first high-pitched cry. Holding her pen above the diary page, as if frozen in place, she tilted her head and listened. “Mommy! Daddy!” The pen fell from her hand as she shoved the desk chair back and leapt to her feet. The cries were coming from James’s room. Shrill, frightened cries. Is he having a nightmare? Cally wondered. James had terrible nightmares when he was little. Sometimes he would wake up two or three times a night, screaming and crying. But he hadn’t had bad dreams for years, “Mommy! Daddy! Come get me!” Lurching toward the door, Cally stubbed her toe on the leg of the desk. She cried out in pain and hopped the rest of the way. “James—what’s the matter?” she heard her father calling. Heavy footsteps. More cries. Kody appeared in the hall, rubbing her eyes. Cally’s mother appeared from her bedroom, hurrying after Mr. Frasier. “Mommy, where are you?” James’s cry sounded tiny, far away. Ignoring the throbbing pain that shot up her leg, Cally hobbled after the others. Down the hall to James’s room. “James?” Mrs. Frasier choked out. Cally stopped in the doorway. Her father clicked on the ceiling light, “James? Where are you?” The first thing Cally saw was the picture book about the ugly bunny. It was carefully propped up against James’s pillow. But the sheets and blankets were tossed on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Mommy? Are you there? Daddy?” Cally could hear James’s voice so clearly. He was there in the room with them. But where? “James—are you hiding? Where are you, James?” Mrs. Frasier’s voice trembled. Her eyes were red rimmed, wide with fear. “Come get me, Mommy. It’s dark here. It’s very dark here” James’s words sent a cold shiver down Cally’s back. She saw Kody gasp and raise her hand to her mouth. “Come get me—please!” James begged. “Where are you, James?” Mrs. Frasier cried. “Please—tell us where you are!” “It’s too dark here. It’s too dark, Mommy!” Cally’s father tore desperately at the sheets, jerking them off the bed. He lurched to the closet and pulled open the door. “James?” Kody dropped to the floor and searched under the bed. Mr. Frasier moved frantically to the window and peered out. “Where are you, son?” “Come get me. Please—come get me. I’m scared, Daddy.” “Just tell us where you are!” Cally’s mother shrieked, tugging at her hair with both hands. “Tell us, James! Tell us where you are!” “It’s so dark here, Mommy. I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be here, Mommy. Come get me!” “Tell us, James!” Mrs. Frasier shrieked in a terrified voice Cally had never heard before. “Tell us where you are!” Silence. Cally gripped the doorframe, her hands as cold as ice, her heart thudding in her chest. “James? Where are you?” Mrs. Frasier repeated, sobbing.
“I’m coming to get you, James,” Cally’s father said, searching the closet again, ducking low to look under the computer table. “Don’t worry. I’m coming. Just tell me where you are.” “I’m right here, Daddy. I’m right here,” the tiny, frightened voice said. “It’s real dark here. I’m afraid. Please come get me. Please!” “Where?” Mr. Frasier repeated desperately. “Where? Where?” Cally jumped, startled, as her mother let out a shrill scream. “He’s there!” Mrs. Frasier shrieked, pointing. “He’s right there!”
Chapter 21
“Huh? Where?” Mr. Frasier turned to gape at his wife. Cally’s mother pointed furiously. “There! James is right there!” Cally didn’t see anything. Her mother was pointing to thin air. “He’s there! Get him! Get James!” Mrs. Frasier insisted. “But I
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