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    TJ and the Haunted House
    TJ and the Haunted House
    TJ and the Haunted House
    Ebook67 pages52 minutes

    TJ and the Haunted House

    By Hazel Hutchins

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    About this ebook

    In this sequel to TJ and the Cats, TJ and his best friend Seymour are back, joined by a classmate Amanda. TJ does not believe in ghosts, so when he agrees to create a haunted house in his own home as a fundraiser, he does not anticipate problems, at least not until it turns out that a ghost may inhabit the spare room in his century-old house. The ghost, real or imagined, leads TJ to some fascinating family history. TJ finds a way to bring that history alive for his family. The kittens, offspring of two of the cats from the first book, lead the way.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateJan 1, 2003
    ISBN9781554697618
    TJ and the Haunted House
    Author

    Hazel Hutchins

    From her home in the mountain town of Canmore, Alberta, Hazel has written over forty books for children of all ages. She gives lively presentations at schools and libraries across Canada. For more information, visit www.hazelhutchins.net.

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      Book preview

      TJ and the Haunted House - Hazel Hutchins

      HH

      Chapter 1

      My name is TJ Barnes and I don’t believe in ghosts — but my friend Seymour does.

      Two weeks before Halloween, Seymour began acting strange. He asked if I could hear mysterious breathing when we were talking on the phone. He began taking sneak peeks into mirrors to glimpse something no one else could see. Finally, way too early in the morning, our doorbell rang. When I stumbled to the door, there was Seymour.

      Hey, he said and walked past me into the living room.

      Seymour, I groaned, I’m not even awake yet.

      Sorry, but the world’s greatest idea can’t wait any longer, said Seymour. Are your parents here?

      I shook my head. My parents took over the local hardware store last year. They work really hard at trying to make it a success, including going in early and staying late.

      Perfect, said Seymour. They won’t have messed up the evidence.

      He was acting even stranger than usual. He was walking up to objects in our living room and just … well … peering at them. The remote control, The World Atlas, the lamp on the end table — he peered at them from above and then from below and then sideways.

      What on earth are you doing? I asked.

      Seymour looked at me meaningfully. He has short curly hair and crooked eyebrows, and his meaningful look was kind of lopsided. Or maybe it just seemed lopsided because half of my brain was still asleep.

      It’s moved, he said.

      What’s moved?

      The atlas. Last night it was over on the bookshelf. This morning it’s by the TV. Don’t you wonder how it got here?

      I know how it got here, I said. There was a great TV show about diamond mines after you left. I was looking at maps of the north.

      Oh, said Seymour.

      But Seymour is never stopped that easily.

      That lamp — you didn’t move that lamp did you?

      No, I said. Seymour …

      Last night it was turned just slightly this way. He reached out and touched it very carefully with his fingertips. Am I right or am I right?

      I don’t know, I said. I don’t care. I’m not even awake! What are you …

      Seymour was halfway up the stairs, stepping on and off the fifth step.S quea Squeak He looked around him as if the air itself was talking.

      Aha! Strange noises, moving objects. The place … he paused for emphasis, the place is haunted.

      I was disgusted. Totally disgusted.

      Seymour! That step has always squeaked.

      Then the house has always been haunted — why didn’t you tell me? said Seymour.

      This is ridiculous. I climbed past him up the stairs. I’m going to go back to bed. Wake me up at ten minutes after eight as usual.

      Seven minutes after eight, said Seymour, following me. I always ring the doorbell at seven after eight. Any later than that and we’ll be late for school; not that I really care if we’re late.

      He was peering at things again, the walls, the ceiling, down the hall. My best friend drives me nuts.

      You have to admit, this house has enough nooks, crannies and side rooms to be haunted, said Seymour. How old is it, anyway?

      It’s not haunted, I said.

      But how old is it? asked Seymour.

      It used to be my great-grandparents’ house, I said.

      Then your gran would know how old it is, said Seymour. We’ll ask her when we go for the kittens today.

      The moment he said those words, my whole world changed. A wonderful feeling spread through me from head to toe. The kittens! I’d been so mad at Seymour that I’d actually forgotten.

      I’d been waiting for ages. Today was the day I was going to bring home Alaska and T-Rex.

      Two months, that’s how old kittens should be when they leave their mother. Seymour and I knew that because we’d done a report on cats last spring when I’d taken care of Gran’s four adult cats. Those cats had almost driven me crazy, but I’d ended up liking them. Now I was going to take care of kittens of my very own.

      Do you want to see the food and water dishes I got for them? I asked.

      I take care of the pet supplies at the hardware store and I’d earned everything for the kittens

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