really live in that part of town either. I just visit Candles by Daye in the afternoon after school.”
“What are you writing then?” Christopher asked.
“I’m writing about the public library a few doors down from Candles by Daye. It’s tiny, but it has a great rooftop garden, with a miniature apple tree and a goldfish pond, and flowers.”
“Yeah, I saw it last week. It is nice,” Christopher said half-heartedly.
Katherine considered for a moment. “Well, there must be something you like?”
“I like my bedroom. It’s a turret at the top of the house.”
Katherine shook her head. “No good. It can’t be about anything inside your house. Has to be outside.”
They both fell silent. “I don’t mind the park in the ravine, that’s nice. It’s got trees and my dog likes it. That’s okay, I guess,” he finally said.
Katherine wrote that down. “We need a little more. Anything else you like? Think!”
Christopher shrugged. “I can tell you what I don’t like: that creepy little park next to my house, it’s haunted or something.” Katherine jerked her head up and gasped. She dropped her pencil at the same time, too, which surprised Christopher. He jumped up, banged his knee on the bottom of the desk, and started hopping up and down. The teacher came over and asked what was going on.
“Nothing. Sorry, I dropped my pencil,” Katherine said. Christopher’s eyes were watering, so all he could do was nod.
When the teacher was gone, Katherine stood up and faced Christopher. The classroom was busy with kids talking and chattering, so no one noticed.
She stood over him. “Listen, Christopher Canning or C.C. or whatever you want to be called, that park is off limits. Just don’t go in there, okay? It’s not safe for … you. You’re right. It’s … haunted … or something. So just stay out!” Katherine was talking in a low whisper, but for some reason, Christopher was very afraid of her. There was something urgent and upsetting in her tone. Her fists were clenched on her hips, and she looked menacing. He glanced over and saw the teacher coming their way again.
He nodded quickly. “Okay … yeah, okay, Katherine, no problem. The park is off-limits, I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t be going back in there, not after last night. It’s okay.”
Katherine saw the teacher heading their way too and dragged Christopher down into the seat beside her. The teacher veered away to another noisy group. Katherine finished writing in silence, handed the paper in to the teacher, then went back to her own desk. She didn’t look at Christopher again, and she wasn’t at the streetcar stop after school.
Christopher stood at the stop by himself, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Katherine had said the park was haunted. Haunted. Or something. She seemed almost panicked that he was going to go back in there, but Christopher definitely didn’t get the feeling she was worried about him. No. She was worried about something else.
What could it be?
She said it was “off limits” and to “stay out.”
But why?
Chapter Nine
The Orange Ball Rolled
For the next few days, Christopher steered clear of the park, except to notice that people hardly ever went in there. Occasionally, city workers opened the gates and went in to rake up leaves or tend to the fountain. Once in a while they even sat in there having their lunch. But apart from them, and an old man with thick glasses, a white straw hat, and a heavy brown coat who sometimes sat on a bench on the sidewalk past the gates, the park was deserted.
Christopher kept his head down when he walked past and made sure his windows were shut carefully every night, although he didn’t hear any more howling. Whenever he took Marbles for a walk, they went the long way to the ravine, and he crossed the street far away from the park.
He stayed away from Katherine, too.
He and Katherine managed a polite truce at the streetcar stop, but she wasn’t there every day. Christopher tried to forget about the somethings in the park, and he almost managed it …
… until one day after school, when he and his many-assorted-older-brothers were playing ball hockey on the driveway beside their house. The driveway was perfect for ball hockey, since it was so long and straight. Christopher wasn’t crazy about playing goalie, but as the youngest he never had much say. He was almost always the goalie. His oldest brother, Marc, passed the ball to his second-oldest brother, Nathan, who passed it to his third-oldest brother, Adam, who took a slap shot from halfway down the driveway. It went wild, and the bright orange ball bounced off Christopher’s goalie mask, whipped through the air, and flew over the spiked iron rails of the park.
The ball rolled deep into the park bushes.
“Nice going, C.C.!” Marc yelled at him.
Christopher took off his mask and dropped his goalie gloves on the driveway. “Now what?” he asked, looking nervously at the park.
“Go get it! You let it fly over the fence!” Adam called.
“No way, you took the slap shot. You go get it!” Christopher yelled back.
“Nice try, C.C. The last one who touches it has to find it,” Nathan said. He had Christopher there — the last-touch rule was ball-hockey law.
It was no use. Marc, Nathan, and Adam had already lost interest in the game and were leaning their hockey sticks against the house. It was almost dinner time anyway. Christopher looked back at the park.
Nothing moved.
He bit his lip. What to do? Everyone bigger than him had gone inside. It was his best ball-hockey ball. It was Marbles’ favourite ball. He really didn’t want to lose it.
He was putting the goalie equipment and the net away in the shed at the back of the house when he looked over at the park again. The bushes were rustling.
An orange ball shot through the iron bars, crossed Christopher’s driveway …
… and rolled to a stop right at his feet.
Chapter Ten
The Giant at the Gates
Christopher gulped, then reached down and picked up the ball.
Something wanted to play. He tossed the ball up and down in his hand, unsure what to do. Just then, his mother opened the back door and called him.
“Christopher! Can you please take Marbles for a walk before dinner?” Marbles burst out the back door and ran to Christopher, wagging his tail and dragging his leash behind him.
“Sure, Mom,” Christopher called back.
He pocketed the orange ball then picked up his dog’s leash and started the long struggle down the driveway. He really didn’t
