Ghost Cave by Barbara Steiner Read Free Book Online

scrambled up the slope. Dirt and rocks slid as he climbed, spilling into the quiet of the cave—the cave that waited silently for them, inviting them back.
    â€œCan you all come back with me tomorrow?” Marc asked as soon as he reached the top and flopped onto the grass. The sun was behind the trees, but the air was warm. It felt wonderful after the cold of the cave.
    â€œI’m not sure I want to, Marc,” Hermie said. “In case I never told you, I hate caves. I hate the idea of caves. I hate the dark. I used to be afraid of the dark.”
    â€œYou’re not still afraid of the dark, are you, Hermie?” Eddie grinned.
    Hermie hesitated. He looked at Marc, then Eddie. He looked at Bluedog, who wiggled all over and licked Hermie’s ear. He looked at the blue, blue summer sky, rain only a memory. “Yes. I cannot tell a lie. I’m still afraid of the dark.”
    â€œThen it’s time you got over it.” Marc coiled the rope and flung it over his shoulder. “And tomorrow is as good a day as any.”

7
    M ARC’S M OTHER
    When Marc got home, his father had an idea that changed his plans for the next day’s exploration. “Where’ve you been, boy?” His dad was stirring up a box of macaroni and cheese.
    â€œI—I rode farther than I realized on my bike.” Marc gave his dad part of an answer. “I was with Hermie and Eddie.”
    His father frowned, but Marc didn’t say any more. After leaving the cave, it had taken him a long time to find his bike. That surprised him, since he knew the woods by the river so well. But when they’d escaped from Mooney, he hadn’t paid much attention to landmarks.
    Hermie and Eddie had ridden on back to town without him. Hermie said his mom would ground him if he was late for supper. There was one rule at his house: Everyone had to be home for the evening meal. Eddie was too excited to sit and wait for Marc, and he didn’t want to help him hunt.
    â€œYou lost your bike, you find it.” He’d laughed and ridden off.
    â€œCan I help with supper?” Marc brought his mind back to the kitchen and smiled as Bluedog drank a bowl of water, lay down, and was immediately asleep. She hadn’t wanted to help Marc look for his bike either, but she went along. She’d had an exhausting adventure.
    â€œYou can slice some tomatoes,” his dad answered.
    Marc watched him stir the gummy mess. The kitchen smelled all cheesy. He hoped his father would remember to put the pan in the sink to soak, since Marc was in charge of dishes.
    Marc’s dad was tall and blond like his son. He was wiry, but he looked thinner than Marc could ever remember. He looked worried, and it seemed as if he never smiled anymore.
    â€œDid you get a letter from Mama?” Her letters always made his dad get even quieter—a hopeless look on his face.
    â€œYes. She says she misses us. She’s lonely, boy. I’m going to take the day off tomorrow and go over there, instead of waiting until Sunday. I want you to go with me.”
    â€œTomorrow?” Marc had planned on going to visit Mama Sunday. He had his heart set on going deeper into the cave the next day. But he wanted to see his mother, too. “Sure, Dad. You know I want to go.”
    His father put the pan on the table on a hot pad instead of emptying it into a bowl or onto their plates. Marc remembered the candles that had gotten him in trouble when he lit them with his show-off match trick. Suddenly he wished Mama were here to fuss at him. Here to set the table with flowers and candles.
    â€œDad, are we ever going spelunking again?” Marc was getting tired of the silence. He’d try to get his father to talk to him.
    â€œI don’t know, boy. You know I don’t have any spare time. The money is tight with your mother’s bills, and I need to keep my mind on my work.”
    Marc thought if his dad had been out hunting clients,