Chapter 1

"Come on Rob, stretch," I half yelled and half grunted as his weight on my shoulders threatened to drive me to my knees.

"I... am... stretching..." Rob said with a note of both exasperation and determination in his voice. "I can't... reach... it."

Rob suddenly managed to hook the fingers of his right hand over the top edge of the wall, and as he took some of his weight off of my back, I was able to stand up straighter, which pushed him high enough to get a solid grip. All at once his weight was off of my shoulders as he half jumped and half pulled himself up onto the top of the wall. He looked down on the three of us with a smug expression on his face as he straddled the wall. Marty tossed him the coil of rope that we had brought along as part of our assault apparatus, and Rob was able to hook something on the other side of the wall with our crudely fashioned loop, before dropping the unsecured end back down to us. Eddie quickly grabbed the end and tied it around the sturdy trunk of a nearby Red Maple tree so that the rope could now be used to scale the wall from either side.

Marty was the first to use the rope to pull himself up and, arriving at the apex of the wall, he wasted no time in swinging his legs over the top and sliding down the other side. Meanwhile, Eddie had already tied another short piece of rope to a plastic milk crate that we had brought along with us, and by the time that Marty was standing inside the grounds of the huge estate, Rob was hoisting the crate up and over the wall. On the other side, out of my view, Marty was removing the contents as the crate reached him, and within minutes we had transferred our two cases of beer, and our bags of chips, snacks and other party necessities. I had just stood by, rubbing shoulders that were now sore from my having acted as a stepladder, as my three friends had worked on the transfer.

In searching for a place to have our party, we had first considered, and then dismissed, half a dozen locations. We had eventually decided on the old Westervelt Mansion because of its remoteness and inaccessibility, and because most people were afraid to come onto the property after dark. Very high stone walls surrounded the entire estate, and an imposing, ten-foot high wrought iron gate guarded its only entrance. I had never seen a time when the gate was not firmly chained and padlocked. In scouting the estate perimeter for the party, we had learned that access would be difficult, and so we had come prepared.

We had been planning this party for several weeks. We were all seventeen and, as minors, prohibited from drinking alcoholic beverages legally. On July 4th weekend, Marty's parents had thrown an enormous party at their house, and he was able to secrete two full cases of beer during the celebration. The beer supply for the party had been stacked in the garage, and the cases were to be brought out and put into ice filled barrels and tubs on the morning of the party. Marty had been assigned the job of filling the tubs with the beer, and ice. As the stacks in the garage dwindled, he had been presented with an opportunity to hide two cases beneath his dad's workbench, and he had jumped at the chance. We had nervously awaited this weekend, fearing that the cache would be discovered before we could enjoy it. But his father had not unearthed the golden nectar, and we were about to hide the evidence in such a way that it would never be found. When Marty's father had suddenly been called away on business yesterday, Marty was able to put the beer in the refrigerator in the garage. As a result of remaining in the refrigerator overnight, it was now frosty cold, and we couldn't wait to pop some tops.

The sun had already settled below the horizon as we followed the winding driveway up to the darkened, deserted mansion. The front entranceway of the building was locked, but we managed to find a set of terrace doors, around back, which yielded when we pushed, and we discovered that the doors opened into a large, ornate ballroom. None of us had ever been inside the mansion before, or even on the grounds. Tales that the mansion was haunted kept most people far away. Everybody supposedly knew somebody, that knew somebody, that had been frightened by the ghost who patrolled the grounds at night, but we didn't see anything except spiders and cobwebs as we cleared an area for our party inside the large ballroom. I imagined that it had once entertained dozens of guests at a time. There was an enormous fireplace in the room, but since it was the first week of August, we sure didn't need any more heat. We did set up a dozen candles around the room though, so that we would have some light. We didn't have to worry that anybody would ever see the dancing and flickering lights. As soon as we had settled in, the pop tops started popping.