baseline test and get the equipment set up and—" I was cut off by a noise that sounded like a loud motor coming from downstairs. We looked at one another quizzically, listening.
"What is that?" Gilley said.
"I don't know," Steven answered, moving out of the room. We followed him to the staircase and listened again. We could hear voices talking over the motor, and it grew louder, as if it were amplified and coming closer. And suddenly we knew what the noise was, just as it started coming out of the room we had just vacated.
"That's impossible," Steven whispered, and we turned back to the room, where a TV was blaring at full volume. On the screen two men drove a boat and discussed casting techniques. Even more unsettling, the television's plug was out of the electrical socket and sitting on the floor.
"M.J.," Gilley whined. "Do something!"
"What exactly would you like me to do, Gil?" I asked him. I'd never seen anything like this before. "It's not like I can just snap my fingers and—" I stopped. Just as I'd actually snapped my fingers, every set seemed to have shut off. We all looked at one another, listening for any sign that a set was still on somewhere in the house. "Shit," I whispered. "This is going to be a tricky bust."
"I don't think I like this," Gilley whined, moving closer to me and reaching out to snag my jacket as if I might leave his side.
"Perhaps we should go to a hotel for the night and come back in the morning?" Steven suggested. "I mean," he added, clearing his throat, "you two must be very tired from the trip."
"Great idea!" Gilley said, letting go of my jacket and dashing out of the room. "Come on, M.J.! Let's go get some rest!" And with that he bolted down the stairs.
Steven smiled at me, then went after Gilley. I had no choice but to follow them. By the time I'd made it downstairs, Gilley and Steven had grabbed all of the equipment and my backpack and were lugging it out to the van. Faster than you can say, "Boo!" they had it tossed in and were ready to roll. "Guys," I said, trying to slow them down, "I think we should stay."
Gilley looked at me to see if I was serious, then made a huge show of stretching his arms wide above his head and yawning. "Man! I am beat! That was a much longer car ride than I expected. I don't think I could possibly stay up tonight to help you. I think we should come back tomorrow."
"I don't want you to think you need to work through the night," Steven added. "I'm not a… how do you say . .. driver of slaves. If Gilley's tired, I think it would be better to come back in the morning."
Just then the whole house lit up and the noise of twelve televisions could be heard blaring from inside. Gilley didn't wait for me to try to talk him into it; he simply jumped in the van and started the engine. Steven turned away from the house and moved to his car in a half walk, half jog. I rolled my eyes, took one last look at the house, and mumbled, "Fine."
Chapter 5
Steven led the way to town, about ten miles back from the way we'd come. A sign welcomed us to Uphamshire, population 4,056. Steven parked in front of a two-story Victorian, and we waited while he got out and walked up to Gilley's window. "We should stay here tonight," he said.
"Where are we?" I asked, peeking out at the house.
"Helen's Bed-and-Breakfast. She's an old friend of my grandfather. You two wait here while I make the arrangements." Gilley nodded agreeably, and Steven headed inside.
When he was out of earshot I gave Gilley a small whap on the shoulder. "We should have stayed, Gil."
"M.J.," Gilley began, "you know what my job is. I'm a van man. It was your idea to get me to go inside and help out, so you have only yourself to blame."
"Whose idea was it to allow Steven along?" I retorted.
"Oh, come on!" Gilley insisted. "Those TVs were freaking me out!"
"They can't hurt you, and you know it," I insisted. "Geez, Gil! If I'd known you were going to act like a sissy girl, I would have come alone."
"I
"What is that?" Gilley said.
"I don't know," Steven answered, moving out of the room. We followed him to the staircase and listened again. We could hear voices talking over the motor, and it grew louder, as if it were amplified and coming closer. And suddenly we knew what the noise was, just as it started coming out of the room we had just vacated.
"That's impossible," Steven whispered, and we turned back to the room, where a TV was blaring at full volume. On the screen two men drove a boat and discussed casting techniques. Even more unsettling, the television's plug was out of the electrical socket and sitting on the floor.
"M.J.," Gilley whined. "Do something!"
"What exactly would you like me to do, Gil?" I asked him. I'd never seen anything like this before. "It's not like I can just snap my fingers and—" I stopped. Just as I'd actually snapped my fingers, every set seemed to have shut off. We all looked at one another, listening for any sign that a set was still on somewhere in the house. "Shit," I whispered. "This is going to be a tricky bust."
"I don't think I like this," Gilley whined, moving closer to me and reaching out to snag my jacket as if I might leave his side.
"Perhaps we should go to a hotel for the night and come back in the morning?" Steven suggested. "I mean," he added, clearing his throat, "you two must be very tired from the trip."
"Great idea!" Gilley said, letting go of my jacket and dashing out of the room. "Come on, M.J.! Let's go get some rest!" And with that he bolted down the stairs.
Steven smiled at me, then went after Gilley. I had no choice but to follow them. By the time I'd made it downstairs, Gilley and Steven had grabbed all of the equipment and my backpack and were lugging it out to the van. Faster than you can say, "Boo!" they had it tossed in and were ready to roll. "Guys," I said, trying to slow them down, "I think we should stay."
Gilley looked at me to see if I was serious, then made a huge show of stretching his arms wide above his head and yawning. "Man! I am beat! That was a much longer car ride than I expected. I don't think I could possibly stay up tonight to help you. I think we should come back tomorrow."
"I don't want you to think you need to work through the night," Steven added. "I'm not a… how do you say . .. driver of slaves. If Gilley's tired, I think it would be better to come back in the morning."
Just then the whole house lit up and the noise of twelve televisions could be heard blaring from inside. Gilley didn't wait for me to try to talk him into it; he simply jumped in the van and started the engine. Steven turned away from the house and moved to his car in a half walk, half jog. I rolled my eyes, took one last look at the house, and mumbled, "Fine."
Chapter 5
Steven led the way to town, about ten miles back from the way we'd come. A sign welcomed us to Uphamshire, population 4,056. Steven parked in front of a two-story Victorian, and we waited while he got out and walked up to Gilley's window. "We should stay here tonight," he said.
"Where are we?" I asked, peeking out at the house.
"Helen's Bed-and-Breakfast. She's an old friend of my grandfather. You two wait here while I make the arrangements." Gilley nodded agreeably, and Steven headed inside.
When he was out of earshot I gave Gilley a small whap on the shoulder. "We should have stayed, Gil."
"M.J.," Gilley began, "you know what my job is. I'm a van man. It was your idea to get me to go inside and help out, so you have only yourself to blame."
"Whose idea was it to allow Steven along?" I retorted.
"Oh, come on!" Gilley insisted. "Those TVs were freaking me out!"
"They can't hurt you, and you know it," I insisted. "Geez, Gil! If I'd known you were going to act like a sissy girl, I would have come alone."
"I
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