THE MYSTERY OF ROANOKE; CHAPTER 4: JOURNEY TO NOWHERE (FOURTH OF 14 PARTS)

The story so far: Melissa and Brian are pretty sure that something odd is going on in their grandparents' old house. Their grandmother believes there may be "presences" of people who once lived there, and someone has written "Welcome Friends" on the doors of Brian's balcony. When Melissa finds an old wooden box containing an old Bible, she discovers something hidden in the bottom.

In the bottom of the old box was a wrinkly, yellowish-brown paper. Melissa flattened it gently.

It was a map.

"What does it mean?" Brian asked.

It was a rough, simple sketch with trees and rivers and houses and hills. There was old-fashioned writing all over it. The words looked like they came from the Bible.

Across the top was written "The Way to Heaven." There also was a big ladle. "Drink from the water," it said. A star hung in the air, like a drop of water flung from the ladle's cup.

At the left was the word "Jerusalem" and below it "Live a Beautiful Life." Then there was a drawing of a small boat on a wiggly river. Near the bottom edge was a big mound, which looked like a mountain, and next to it "Valley of the Shadow" and "Psalm 23." Tiny footprints marched up the right side of the page, along another river.

Near the top of the map was an arrow pointing up. It was marked: "Brotherly Love." To the left was "River Jordan" and a scrap of river that wasn't connected to anything.

There were other things too, none of which made much sense.

"This is just an old Sunday school lesson," Brian said. "Maybe it's Dad's. That's his old room." He yawned.

"Or maybe somebody is trying to tell us something," Melissa said. "But what?"

Brian shrugged. "They're trying to tell us what they always tell us: Be good and live a good life." He yawned again. "We'd better get to bed. Dad said."

The rain patted the house softly now, making a soothing, sleepy sound.

"Can I sleep in here?" Melissa asked.

"Sure," said Brian. He tossed a pillow and blanket to his sister. Then he carefully placed the old map back in its box. He replaced the bottom and set the Bible back in. As he closed the lid, he noticed in tiny letters the name "John" scratched inside it. "Who's John, I wonder?" he said.

"I've never heard of anyone named John here," Melissa replied.

Brian locked the box and put it on his bedside table. He dropped the key into the drawer. "It'll be safe here," he said. Then he turned off the light and climbed into his bed.

Melissa stood with the pillow under one arm and the blanket under the other. She gazed out the French doors onto the balcony.

The rain fell like silver chains. Now and then a distant flash of lightning made the trees glow white. It was beautiful and eerie at the same time.

Melissa's mind was full of questions. What did the map mean? And who gave it to her? And who wrote on Brian's door?

Suddenly she had an idea. In the flickering storm-light, she turned back to the bedside table and opened the little drawer. When she put the key in the box's lock, it turned easily.

As she lifted out the Bible, she saw a small ribbon marking a page. She opened it and held it up to see.

When the lightning flashed, she saw the marked page. On it was Psalm 23. Just like on the map.

Melissa knew that psalm well. It was all about not being afraid. About walking through the valley of the shadow of death without fear, and all that. She admitted to herself that she did feel afraid. Gently, she locked up the Bible and put the key back.

Brian was already asleep. His steady breathing was a comfort.

Melissa crawled into the love seat near the bed and lay down. There was definitely something going on, and she was determined to find out what it was. She drew the blanket to her chin.

As she lay listening to the darkness, she decided there was something odd about it. With a start, she thought she heard the sound of music. It sounded like a piano.

She sat up. The song was familiar. It was Johann Sebastian Bach's "Sheep May Safely Graze," one of her favorite songs to play.

Was she imagining it? Often she heard that song in her head. She listened again. It certainly sounded real.

"Brian? Are you awake?"

Brian turned over in his sleep.

Melissa got up and slipped out of the room. She switched on the bathroom light and stood in the hall. The music came from downstairs. It sounded like the piano in the library, but it was so soft that she could barely hear it.

She crept down the stairs, stopping each time the boards creaked. Outside Grandma and Grandpa's room, she listened. Their snores one high, one low were loud and regular. In the guest room, her parents slept soundly, too.

The song continued. It was slow and gentle. Whoever was playing it had a soft touch.

Melissa tiptoed to the library and stood in the doorway. I must be nuts, she said to herself. But I have to find out.

She stepped inside. The music stopped.

Across the room, at the piano, she heard a swish, like the rustle of fabric. The scent of lilacs filled her nostrils. But she saw nothing.

Her body froze like a statue. "Hello?" Her voice came out in a tiny squeak.

There was no answer. Was someone watching her? Melissa forced herself to turn around, and she rushed up the stairs.

"Brian, wake up," she whispered, as she leaned over her brother. "I heard something!"

Brian yawned. "Go to sleep."

"Brian. Please." Melissa shook his shoulder.

"Tell me in the morning." He turned over and went back to sleep.

Melissa climbed into the love seat and covered up. The pounding of her heart echoed in her head. She lay there for a long time, listening, but the house was quiet.

After a while, her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep.

* * *

Late in the night, she woke from a dream and thought she heard the music again.

Next week: Two visitors.