Sarah the Spy

After school, Sarah changed into a light blue sweatshirt and jeans. She pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face.

And then she picked up her most prized item: a red spiral notebook.

Sarah had done a book report on “Harriet the Spy” in fifth grade, and she’d been fascinated with Harriet and her life ever since.

Her mother couldn’t afford a nanny or a cook, so nobody greeted Sarah with milk and cake when she came home from school. Mom had no idea what a dumbwaiter was when Sarah asked her if their house had one. And unlike Harriet, Sarah didn’t have to wear anyone’s old glasses without the lenses — she’d been prescribed her own pair two years earlier.

But there was no reason she couldn’t put together a spy route of her own. Especially not now that her “best” friend Alison had started hanging out with a new girl in school and seemed to have no more time for Sarah.

Of course, a spy route in Sarah’s neighborhood wouldn’t be as colorful as Harriet’s had been. She didn’t live in Manhattan. And she didn’t want to sneak into people’s houses, the way Harriet had — what if someone had a gun?

Lacking other ideas, she started wandering around and observing the houses near hers. She pulled out her notebook and started writing.

“HOW CAN THAT OLD MAN STAND LIVING IN THAT HOUSE WITH THE ANNOYING DOG THAT BARKS ALL THE TIME?”

“LAST YEAR THE MILLERS DIDN’T TAKE DOWN THEIR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS UNTIL MARCH. I WONDER HOW LONG THEY’LL LEAVE THEM UP THIS YEAR?”

Sarah read what she’d written and sighed. If she really wanted to learn about people in her neighborhood and what made them tick, she was going to have to figure out how to listen in on them.

She started sneaking behind houses, hoping she’d be able to overhear conversations through open windows. She heard a baby crying, the annoying dog barking, someone having a phone conversation she couldn’t quite follow. The smell of cooking dinners made her a little hungry.

And then she heard a language unlike any language she’d ever heard. Dark. Mean. Angry. It came from someone on the other side of a nearby fence. Sarah shivered just listening to it.

“WHAT *IS* THAT? IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF THE SCARY MOVIES MOM DOESN’T KNOW I WATCH.”

And then the voice broke off, and suddenly the fence gate swung open. A tall, thin older woman in a flowered blue dress charged forward and grabbed Sarah’s arm. Hard.

“Just what do you think you’re doing back here?” The woman smelled like smoke, and she bent down until her nose was practically smudging Sarah’s glasses.

“Nothing,” Sarah lied.

The woman snatched Sarah’s notebook and opened it up. She read Sarah’s few observations and rolled her eyes.

Sarah blinked as the woman pushed her notebook back at her. For just a second, she could have sworn she saw a brief flash of light surround it.

“Get away from here. Don’t let me catch you lurking around again, or else.” She gave Sarah a very unfriendly push before going back into her yard and slamming the gate.

Sarah ran until she saw the bench by the basketball court near her house. She collapsed on it, breathing hard. When she’d regained her wits, she opened the notebook again.

“WHAT A WEIRD OLD BAT. DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT LANGUAGE WAS, BUT I’LL BET SHE’S UP TO NO GOOD.”

And then another sentence formed underneath what she’d just written.

“You can say that again, kid.”

Sarah screamed, throwing the notebook on the grass. Heads spun around as passersby stared at her. With a shaking hand, she picked it up and opened it. And another new sentence popped up.

“Sorry if I freaked you out.”

Sarah’s hands shook so hard that she wondered if she’d be able to hold her pen.

“WHO ARE YOU? HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

The reply appeared almost immediately.

“That ‘old bat’ is holding me prisoner. If you help me escape, I’ll grant you a wish.”

Sarah was sure someone was playing a joke on her. Maybe she’d picked up some kind of trick notebook by accident.

“What do you say, kid?”

“I HAVE TO GO HOME SOON.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

Sarah had wanted to find something exciting going on in her neighborhood, hadn’t she? Well?

“OK.”

That night, Sarah kept getting out of bed, grabbing a flashlight, and opening the notebook to see if the words were really there. After the third time, another message popped up:

“Knock that off, kid — I need my rest. Tomorrow is a busy day.”

She couldn’t concentrate in school that day, and the homeroom teacher yelled at her a few times for not paying attention. But Sarah didn’t care.

She got home, said hello to her mother, and changed into her spy uniform. And then she opened up the red notebook and grabbed her purple pen.

“WELL?”

After a few nerve-wracking minutes, a response appeared.

“She’s out doing her shopping. No idea when she might be back, so get your butt to the house.”

Sarah told her mom she was going to visit a friend, hurried outside, and made her way around the block until she found the mean woman’s house.

“I’M HERE.”

“OK. See that pink toad thing by the steps? Turn it over and open it — there’s a key in there.”

A grinning pink ceramic toad that gave Sarah the creeps sat in a flowerbed. Sarah glanced around to see if anyone was watching her, and then she turned the toad over, pulled out a black stopper, and found the key.

“NOW WHAT?”

“Inside, and down the stairs into the basement.”

Sarah cautiously let herself into the dark, musty house. The curtains had been pulled shut, and dusty cloths covered all the furniture. She kept waiting for someone to jump out and grab her as she found the door to the basement.

When she walked down the basement steps and turned a corner, she froze.

A young girl was hanging by her ankles from a black rope, surrounded by what looked like a cloud of gray haze. Her eyes were shut, but her mouth hung open. Her purple hair fanned out around her head as she slowly turned back and forth.

Sarah grabbed her notebook and found that there was already a new message for her.

“See that chest by the window? Grab the box of matches in the top drawer and use them to burn through the rope.”

“CAN’T I JUST CUT IT?”

“No! This kind of rope can’t be cut, only burned. And hurry.”

The thought of fire made Sarah horribly nervous, but she found the box of long wooden matches after searching through some bizarre silver objects in the drawer. Her hands shook so hard that it took her a couple tries to light one of the matches. She raised it to the black rope, which had been strung over a hook from the ceiling and then tied to the leg of a very heavy-looking desk.

The rope let out an awful smell as it burned, and it seemed to hold together much longer than a normal rope would. Just as it was finally about to snap, Sarah heard a door slam upstairs.

“Who’s there?”

Sarah’s heart almost exploded through her chest. She heard a roar and then heavy, hard footsteps rushing for the basement. The thing that turned the corner down the basement steps bore almost no resemblance to the lady from yesterday. It wore a blue flowered dress, but it had glowing white eyes and pointy yellow teeth, which it bared at Sarah.

And then the rope finally burned through. The young woman did a mid-air somersault and landed on her feet.

As the snarling thing advanced, the young woman grabbed Sarah and shoved her towards a small cabinet in the basement wall.

Sarah ran for it, pulled the door open, and stopped in surprise. Behind the door, an open wooden box the size of the cabinet hung suspended by ropes. Sarah hauled herself into the dumbwaiter. The door banged shut, closing her in. She hugged her knees to her chest and shivered. And then she realized she’d dropped her notebook while getting into the thing.

“This place is mine now!,” the older woman shouted. Sarah heard loud banging sounds and saw a big flash of light, followed by an awful screech. Smoke started filling the dumbwaiter. She wasn’t sure she could breathe in there much longer.

And then the noises stopped. She heard footsteps going upstairs.

“Hello?” she shouted. “Anyone there?”

And then someone started pulling the dumbwaiter up. The ropes squeaked horribly and the wooden box kept thumping against the wall. Sarah realized she had no idea who was pulling her up, and decided to spring out and shove past whoever was waiting for her upstairs.

The dumbwaiter stopped and the door swung open. Sarah tumbled out somewhat less smoothly than she had envisioned.

The young woman helped her to her feet. She smiled, handed Sarah her notebook, and motioned for her to open it.

“Thanks, kid — I owe you one. That old hag stole my voice a long time ago, so I’ll have to keep talking this way.”

“Who … why … what was happening?” Sarah stammered out.

The woman rolled her eyes.

“I inherited this house from my grandmother. And boy, was my aunt angry about it. She thought she could just suspend me and steal it for herself.”

“Why did you pull me up here?”

“You’re too young to see the mess down there. That’s why.”

And then the woman smiled down at Sarah.

“I’m Carrie, by the way. Nice to finally meet you. And hang on to that notebook. Never know if I might need to ask for help again.” Carrie winked.

Sarah had a million questions, but finally settled on one to ask.

“You said you’d grant me a wish?”

Carrie grinned.

“I already did. Go home and you’ll see. And you should be heading out. I’ve got lots of cleanup to do here.”

The thought of what, exactly, might need to be cleaned up in this weird and scary place made Sarah not want to hang around. She waved goodbye to Carrie and left the strange house.

As she turned the corner to her own house, her old friend Alison was sitting on the front stairs. Alison stood up as Sarah approached, looking nervous and a little sheepish.

“Hey, Sarah. Your mom said I could wait for you here.”

“What do you want?”

Alison looked shamefaced. “I … thought we could hang out again. It’s been a while.”

Part of Sarah wanted to tell her off, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was just too happy to see Alison again.

“Sure.”

“So,” Alison said, smiling. “What’ve you been up to lately?”

Sarah glanced down at her red spiral notebook and laughed.

“Spying.”