Chapter 6
Miss Georgia’s sat up. She bounded from bed and looked wildly around her. She had been dreaming about someone knocking on her door back home.
Abigail pounded on the door. “Georgia! Are you all right?”
Memory of where she was came back. Grabbing her robe, she stepped into her slippers.
“I’m fine,” she said, throwing open the bedroom door. “I don’t know what that noise was. Is this what you were telling me about—noises in the night?”
Abigail was shaking. “Yes, yes, it is. Oh, Georgia, I don’t know what’s going on.”
Georgia shook her head and glanced down at Elmira’s bed. The little cat was gone. She was probably hiding some place that she considered safe. Miss Georgia would hide too, if she knew where to go.
“Where did that awful noise come from?” whimpered Abby. “It sounded like it was from this room.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t make it,” Miss Georgia declared. “And there’s nobody else here. Maybe it came from your attic. Maybe you have squirrels in your attic and they knocked something off a shelf. Something big and heavy.” After she said it, she could have bitten her tongue. It would have taken a bevy of squirrels to have made that jarring thud.
“The attic?” Abigail moaned. “It’s dark and spooky up there.”
“And, I’m sure it’s cold,” Miss Georgia agreed. “Let’s think about this–downstairs, in your kitchen, with a hot drink. I want something stronger than tea. Do you have coffee?”
A few minutes later, the two friends sat at Abigail’s table, cradling warm coffee cups in their hands. “I’ve never believed in ghosts before these noises started,” quavered Abigail.
“Well, I still don’t,” Miss Georgia said firmly. “Besides, in all the stories I’ve heard about ghosts, they’re quiet and sort of flit around.”
Abigail choked on her swallow of coffee. “Maybe it was trying to get our attention.”
“If it was, it certainly succeeded. If you’ve finished with that coffee, let’s go search through every room. And, if you don’t want to go into the attic, I’ll go. You can keep watch on the stairs.”
Abigail huffed. “Do you think I’d let you go into…into who knows what all by yourself?”
The climb up the attic stairs almost did Miss Georgia in. She stopped at the top to catch her breath and wait for the stitch in her side to go away.
“This is just where I store things that I don’t have any more use for,” Abigail said, flipping a light switch in the wall. The dim bulb high in the ceiling showed a cobwebby room full of trunks a couple of chairs, and an old table.
“I don’t see anything spooky,” said Miss Georgia. “But, let’s look.”
An hour later, Georgia’s back was aching, her feet were cold, and the hunt through the attic and every other room in the house had revealed nothing that could have caused a loud noise.
“It’ll be daylight pretty soon,” Abigail said. “We can look around in the yard then. But, I’m not going back to my bed. I’ll just curl up downstairs on the sofa. Do you want to take the recliner?”
Miss Georgia nodded. She had no desire to be alone in her upstairs room. “Maybe Elmira will come out from hiding soon. Poor little cat must be scared witless. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep.”
“Me neither,” agreed Abigail.
But, they did. Neither woke up until a pitiful meowing reached Miss Georgia’s ears. Her eyes flew open. Sunlight flooded Abigail’s living room.
“Elmira!” She jumped up, straining her ears to listen. “Did you hear her, Abby?”
The cat meowed again, but it was a strange, muffled sound, as if it came from far away.
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