“There she is,” said Eric. “Graylock Hall.”
They walked in silence. The road led to a circular turnaround in front of the building. On the other side of the circle was the hospital’s main entrance — a wide stone staircase that rose toward a recessed entry. Within the shadows of the portal, impenetrable black iron doors were chained shut.
The building was not wide, but each of its three stories seemed to rise taller than the last, so that the place loomed as if it were actually leaning toward them, trying to hypnotize them forward.
A small walking path circumnavigated the hospital. Opposite this trail, the land sloped quickly toward the water. It wasn’t difficult for Neil to imagine a patient wandering out into the night and tumbling into the lake. Farther from shore, unimpeded by the shade of the pines, lily pads floated in the sunlight. For a patient who couldn’t swim, who was confused or frightened in the first place, Neil imagined that it would have been difficult to escape the tangle of plant stalks and weeds out there.
Taking in the vista, Neil was overwhelmed with a sudden sadness. People had died here. And for the people who had lived, life certainly hadn’t been easy — neither inside nor outside of these walls. He had come here hoping to escape from his tangled thoughts, but found himself twisted in new ones.
Neil blinked and pulled out the digital camera, fitting its strap snugly around his wrist. He remembered how Alexi and Mark worked. They always managed to keep a critical perspective and maintain an emotional distance. They never jumped to conclusions. Neil took several pictures to make himself feel better. This was his very own ghostly investigation — a wonderful distraction.
“I think there’s a window around the side that we can crawl through,” said Eric. “That’s what my friend Jamie told me this morning anyway. He’s been here before, but I couldn’t convince him to come again. Go figure.”
“Is Jamie in your band?” Bree asked, following Eric to the left of the hospital’s main entrance.
“Nah. I’m not really talking to those guys at the moment.” The two walked on. Neil and Wesley hung back.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Wesley asked. “Some people think Nurse Janet is totally real.”
“Yeah, but ghosts can’t hurt you,” said Neil.
“Where’d you get that idea?”
Neil thought for a few seconds. Had Alexi or Mark ever actually said that? “I’m not sure. Makes sense though. Ghosts don’t have bodies. So how would they be able to touch you?” Wesley said nothing. Neil worried Wesley didn’t believe him. “The Nurse Janet story is creepy, but I doubt her ghost would really be able to drag anyone down to the lake. Even if she was totally psycho.”
“There are other ways to hurt people.”
“Like how?”
Wesley pointed to his temple, right next to his small brown ear. “What if they can get in here somehow?”
“In your head?” asked Neil. He thought of his mother, of her crying fits, of her silences, her unrecognizing face. He ruminated upon that shadow person he imagined lurking inside himself, and his stomach clenched. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here.
A voice called out from around the stone wall. “Are you guys coming or what?” It was Eric.
“Yes!” Neil answered. Moving forward would keep the memory of his parents in the back of his mind, instead of front and center.
Neil and Wesley found Bree helping Eric into what looked like a tall basement window that met a slight depression in the ground. The glass had been smashed in. The grass at the base of the wall came up to Bree’s knees. She held Eric’s hands as he lowered himself inside. When Bree realized that the two boys were standing behind her, she blushed, looking like an accomplice to a crime. And it is a crime, thought Neil, isn’t it?
“There’s a table down here!” Eric called from the darkness beyond the window. “Looks pretty sturdy.” The sound of wooden legs scraping against a gritty floor echoed out of the building. Then Eric’s face appeared inside, at the bottom of the frame. “Here.” He waved. “You can just climb on in now. The drop isn’t far.”
Bree breathed deeply, then sat down and scooted herself forward. From inside, Eric reached out and helped her. Wesley followed. Neil glanced around, making sure no one was watching them before he too crouched in the tall grass. He sat on the ledge of the window, and for the first time, he caught a glimpse of the hospital’s inside.
Dusty light revealed a wide wooden floor, a tall ceiling. Bolted high on opposite walls … were those basketball hoops? Had they found a gymnasium? Weird. And kind of cool.
Neil lowered his bag inside. Below, his sister held it for him. Then he dropped to the table. The safety of the sunlight remained outside. Inside, the world had turned to shadows and dust.
A THICK LAYER OF DIRT CAKED THE FLOOR. Shards of glass glimmered in the dim light at the group’s feet. A slimy green stripe of mildew and moss clung to the wall, dripping down from the makeshift entry. A shadowy horizontal line, about five feet high, stretched around the room, reminding Neil of a grimy bathtub ring.
Nature was slowly reclaiming the building. The once-glossy flooring was warped from water damage. Rain had repeatedly flooded the room during years of neglect. Paint peeled from the ceiling, bubbled and hanging in long strips like streamers at a party. Great chunks of plaster had fallen indiscriminately around the room, littering the court with even more debris. Playing a ball game here today would involve a strange obstacle course, Neil thought. What penalties would you acquire for tripping over a raised board?
Bree tapped Neil’s shoulder and held out his bag. She stared at him silently.
“You okay?” he asked her, reaching inside the satchel and removing his camera again. He realized that he actually appreciated that she’d come along … even if it was simply because Eric — a cute boy! — had shown up.
“Where to?” she asked, glancing around the ruined room.
“Neil wants his evidence,” said Wesley. “If Nurse Janet haunts the youth ward, we should try to find her there.”
Neil raised his camera and snapped a few shots of the gymnasium. Then he waved for the other three to line up. “Smile!” he said as the flash lit up the room.
They wandered. The labyrinthine hallways were dark, some of them almost pitch-black. Neil’s flashlight came in handy as they stumbled through doorways, past overturned gurneys and dust-encrusted wheelchairs, and up a narrow flight of stairs. Spiders and insects scurried away from the sudden glare. Neil kept his body tight, his limbs close to his torso, in case something reached out to grab him.
The group had no idea where they were headed. Neil took comfort in snapping pictures along the way. Alexi and Mark always said: You never know what the camera might pick up.
“Where are the padded rooms?” asked Wesley. “And blood. I don’t see streaks anywhere.”
“Yeah,” said Bree. “What about graffiti in the stairwells? I thought this place was going to be much creepier. It just seems dirty.” Neil held his tongue. From the way she was scooting ahead to be close to Eric, he knew she was nervous. “And if I wanted to be scared of dirt, I’d just look under Neil’s bed back in New Jersey. I swear, he’s got some hostile dust bunnies.”