🌙 Chapter Six: The Bell Keeper’s Secret
Rita, Kyle, Lane, and Georgia ducked back into the tunnel, crouching low behind the heavy door. Their hearts pounded in unison, breaths ragged and quick.
“Did you see that?” Kyle whispered, gripping the flashlight so hard his knuckles turned white.
“He’s... like a ghost whisperer or something,” Georgia muttered, eyes wide.
Lane leaned in. “No way. He’s just a janitor, right?”
But Rita wasn’t so sure. She peered through the crack again, watching Mr. Binks shuffle around the basement. Every few steps, he’d ring the small brass bell dangling from his belt, as if on autopilot.
She caught a glimpse of something pinned to the wall—a faded newspaper clipping framed in cheap plastic. “Carillon Ghost Story: Fact or Folklore?” The photo showed a shadowy figure silhouetted against the bell tower, the headline screaming in bold letters.
“Guys... look,” Rita whispered. “He knows about the ghost.”
Kyle nodded slowly. “Maybe that’s why he rings the bell. To keep the ghost away while he’s working.”
Georgia frowned, skeptical as ever. “Or he’s just superstitious. People get weird about old buildings.”
Lane shook his head. “Either way, we need to ask him.”
Before they could debate further, the door creaked open wider—and there was Mr. Binks, standing in the tunnel, his mop in one hand and the bell in the other.
The kids froze.
“Well, well,” Mr. Binks said, a thin smile twitching beneath his mustache. “Looks like I’ve got company tonight.”
Kyle swallowed hard. “Uh... hi, Mr. Binks.”
Mr. Binks tilted his head, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “You kids think you’ve found a secret, haven’t you?”
Rita hesitated, then stepped forward. “We’re just... curious, sir. About the bells. And the tower.”
Mr. Binks sighed, shifting his weight as the bell on his belt gave a soft chime. “Curiosity can be dangerous in an old place like this. The Carillon’s got stories, sure. Ghost stories. Folks say the old bell ringer—Mr. Halloway—never really left.”
Lane’s eyes widened. “You believe that?”
Binks rubbed his chin. “I don’t know what I believe. But I do know that every time I clean down here... I feel something. Like the air’s too heavy. Like someone’s watching. So I keep my bell handy.” He lifted it, the sound sharp and clear in the dim tunnel.
“Bells clear the air, see? Chase the spirits away.”
Rita’s mind raced. Could the ghost of Mr. Halloway really still linger in the Carillon? Was he the one the pigeons were afraid of? Could he be... waiting for someone to finish his song?
Mr. Binks’s gaze darkened. “The tower’s been quiet too long, kids. When the chimes fall silent, that’s when you ought to worry.”
He stepped aside, motioning them back toward the stairs. “Go on home now. Let the bells do their job.”
But as they climbed the steps back toward the tower’s main level, Rita paused, her heart pounding. There had to be more to this. Why had the bells really stopped ringing? And was Mr. Binks the only one who knew the truth?
She looked back once, catching the faintest glint of a bell swinging on Mr. Binks’s belt—like a silent guardian against the secrets of the Carillon.
No comments:
Post a Comment