WELCOME TO ROSEWOOD MANOR

2

"Adam! Adam!"
First I called Adam. Then I called Rio. But there was no sign of either of them. I ran down to the bottom of the driveway and peeped into the car, but they weren't there. Mom and Dad were still inside talking with Mr. Thomson. I looked along the street in both directions, but there was no sign of them.
"Adam! Hey, Adam!"
Finally, Mom and Dad came hurrying out the front door, looking alarmed. I guess they heard my shouts. "I can't find Adam or Rio!" I yelled up to them from the street.
"Maybe they're around back," Dad shouted down to me.
I headed up the driveway, kicking away dead leaves as I ran. It was sunny down on the street, but as soon as I entered our yard, I was back in the shade, and it was immediately cool again. That's so weird ... I mean I've never seen a place where it's partly sunny and partly shady .. well , there must be ofcourse .. and perhaps I haven't researched much.
"Hey, Adam! Adam—where are you?"
Why did I feel so scared? It was perfectly natural for Adam to wander off. He did it all the time.
I ran full speed along the side of the house. Tall trees leaned over the house on this side, blocking out nearly all of the sunlight. I usually love it but now that feeling of shade irks me off.
The backyard was bigger than I'd expected, a long rectangle that sloped gradually down to a wooden fence at the back. Just like the front, this yard was a mass of tall weeds, poking up through a thick covering of brown leaves ornamented with red roses all over , it's prickles seeming more sharp than usual . A stone birdbath had toppled onto its side. Beyond it, I could see the side of the garage, a dark, brick building that matched the house.
"Hey—Adam!"
He wasn't back here. I stopped and searched the ground for footprints or a sign that he had run through the thick leaves. As I was in a hurry to search for him .. the prickles of the roses cut through my feet .. I jerked in pain and thought to myself "Oh Adam, you're so dead once I find you."
"Well?" Out of breath, Dad came jogging up to me. He noticed my bleeding feet and asked out of pity and not concern as to what happened..
"That's nothing for you to worry about , Dad. Atleast nothing to worry more than where the heck Adam is .. and unfortunately, there's no sign of him," I said, surprised at how worried I felt.
"Did you check the car?" He sounded more angry than worried.
"Yes. It's the first place I looked." I gave the backyard a last quick search. "I don't believe Adam would just take off."
"I do," Dad said, rolling his eyes. "You know your brother when he doesn't get his way. Maybe he wants us to think he's run away from home." He frowned. "The biggest problem is you always seem to find only faults of his and neglect whatever he says unless he's stubborn as heck and throws tantrums. All he wants is to be heard. Why won't you understand, Dad ?"
"Spencer ,I don't like being spoken to that way."
"Ofcourse you don't , dad . You think you're always right but one day you will realise that adults are wrong sometimes too."
"You will not utter a word and go this instant and find Adam. I hope I made myself clear , Spence? "
"Aye aye , Captain" I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. There's just no point arguing with him.
"Where is he?" Mom asked as we returned to the front of the house.
Dad and I both shrugged. "Maybe he made a friend and wandered off," Dad said.
"Oh please,the last thing he'd do is make friends in the weirdest locality he's ever seen."
"He's not like you , Spence." Dad said quite full of himself and mocking me in a way ..I guess.
"Dad, he's been with me more than you ever have and I know him more than you ever will . So please -that can never be the case."
He raised a hand and scratched his curly brown hair. I could tell that he was starting to worry, too.
"We've got to find him," Mom said, gazing down to the street. "He doesn't know this neighborhood at all. He probably wandered off and got lost."
Mr. Thomson locked the front door and stepped down off the porch, pocketing the keys. "He couldn't have gotten far," he said, giving Mom a reassuring smile.
"How do you know that , Mr. Thomson?" I said , quite suspicious of this guy. I mean , I dont know why , and I probably shouldn't.. but I just can't seem to brush off the fact that he's kinda creepy. And weird.
"I understand your concern ,kid. But I need you to co-operate and trust me on this if you want to see your brother. Let's drive around the block. I'm sure we'll find him."
What he said seemed like a threat or .. a warning to me. I thought of staying silent for now as the situation isn't exactly perfect.
Mom shook her head and glanced nervously at Dad. "I'll kill him," she muttered. Dad patted her on the shoulder.
Mr. Thomson opened the trunk of the small car, pulled off his dark brown blazer, and tossed it inside. Then he took out a wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat and put it on his head.
Probably to cover his ugly hair ..
"Hey—that's quite a hat," Dad said, climbing into the front passenger seat.
"Keeps the sun away," Mr. Thomson said, sliding behind the wheel and slamming the car door.
"Sun? As far as I see .. there's no heat I feel enough to wear a damn hat."
"Spence... " dad gave me the look.
"Oh it's fine .. her doubt is genuine . But you see Spencer .. I'm quite sensitive to heat be it small or quite something .. "
"Um... okay .. " Whenever he talks , it's just weird. It's as if I want him to just shut up .
Mom and I got in the back. Glancing over at her, I saw that Mom was as worried as I was. Ofcourse, she'd be worried. Anyone would at this point .
We headed down the block in awkward silence, all four of us staring out the car windows.
The houses we passed all seemed ancient. Most of them were even bigger than our house.
All of them seemed to be in better condition, nicely painted with neat, well-trimmed lawns.
The houses and yards on the street were deserted. I wondered why there's no body out and it just felt abandoned. And not good.
It certainly is a quiet neighborhood, I thought. And shady. The houses all appeared to be surrounded by tall trees. The front yards we drove slowly past all seemed to be bathed in shade. The street was covered with roses and the narrow beam of sunlight passing through made it glisten.
Maybe that's why it's called Rosewood, I thought. Pretty name for a weird ass place.
"Where is that son of mine?" Dad asked, staring hard out the windshield.
"I'll kill him. I really will," Mom muttered. It wasn't the first time she had said that about Adam.
We had gone around this damn block twice. And it feels like eternity since that idiot went missing. And again, no sign of him.
Mr. Thomson suggested we drive around the next few blocks, and Dad quickly agreed. "Hope I don't get lost. I'm new here, too," Mr. Thomson said, turning a corner.
He really didn't need to clarify that did he ? I kept on wondering why I'm feeling suspicious of him so much to the point that he knows where Adam and Rio went ..
"Hey, there's the school," he announced, pointing out the window at a tall redbrick building. It looked very old-fashioned, with pitch black columns on both sides of the double front doors. "Of course, it's closed now," Mr. Thomson added. My eyes searched the fenced-in playground behind the school. It was empty. No one there. For one thing ,I loved playgrounds .. Adam did too.. but this one looked terrible . No wonder there's no body there.
"Could Adam have walked this far?" Mom asked, her voice tight and higher than usual.
"Adam doesn't walk," Dad said, rolling his eyes. "He runs."
"We'll find him," Mr. Thomson said confidently, tapping his fingers on the wheel as he steered.
We turned a corner onto another shady block. A street sign read "Cemetery Drive", and sure enough, a large cemetery rose up in front of us. Granite gravestones rolled along a low hill, which sloped down and then up again onto a large flat stretch, also marked with rows of low grave markers and monuments.
A few shrubs dotted the cemetery, but there weren't many trees. As we drove slowly past, the gravestones passing by in a blur on the left, I realized that this was the sunniest spot I had seen in the whole town.
"There's your son." Mr. Thomson, pointing out the window, stopped the car suddenly. "Oh, thank goodness!" Mom exclaimed, leaning down to see out the window on my side of the car.
Sure enough, there was Adam, running wildly along a crooked row of low, white gravestones. "What's he doing here?" I asked, pushing open my car door.
I stepped down from the car, took a few steps onto the grass, and called to him.
At first, he didn't react to my shouts. He seemed to be ducking and dodging through the tombstones. He would run in one direction, then cut to the side, then head in another direction.
Why was he doing that?
I took another few steps—and then stopped, gripped with fear.
I suddenly realized why Adam was darting and ducking like that, running so wildly through the tombstones. He was being chased.
Someone—or something—was after him.