Dunc and the Flaming Ghost (2 page)

“It couldn’t have been a ghost,” Dunc said.

He and Amos were sitting at a table in the school library. It was that point in the afternoon when they began thinking less and less about schoolwork and more and more about other things. They were supposed to be working on book reports.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to even think about it. We’re supposed to be studying.”

“But it
couldn’t
have been a ghost. It’s just not possible.”

“You didn’t seem so convinced about that last night.” Amos snorted. “I barely caught
up with you. That reminds me—how’s your back?”

Dunc squirmed. “It’s all right, I guess.” He had a big bruise in the shape of a footprint right between his shoulder blades.

“It’s amazing you could run as fast as you did with a bruise like that. You must have broken eight or ten land speed records. If you had cleats on and a track coach saw you, you’d be in the Olympics.” He shook his head. “And now you say what we saw last night couldn’t have been a ghost.”

“I didn’t have time to think about it last night.”

“What’s to think about? It was huge and white. It had matches sticking out of its head. It was either someone with a serious skin disorder and mental problems, or it was the ghost of Captain Edward Teach. In either case it doesn’t matter. I just about peed my pants.”

“Who was that?” Dunc asked. “The name you mentioned?”

“Edward Teach. Blackbeard the Pirate. He used to stick matches under the brim of
his hat to look scarier. Personally, I don’t think he needed them.”

“How do you know about Blackbeard?”

“I looked him up in the encyclopedia.”

“It just isn’t possible.”

“Sure it is. You just look under
B
, and there it is. You read about it, and then you know about it.”

“I don’t mean that. It just isn’t possible that what we saw was Blackbeard’s ghost.”

Amos sighed. “When are you going to admit you don’t know everything? There are some things people just aren’t meant to understand. Ghosts are one of them.”

“I still don’t think—”

He stopped in midsentence. Amos had just kicked him under the table.

“What did you do that for?”

“Melissa. Melissa just came in the library.”

Dunc looked over his shoulder. Melissa was walking with one of her friends between two bookshelves.

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’? This could be
my big opportunity. Watch this.” He stood up and sauntered over to the aisle.

He’s being cool
, Dunc thought.
That’s not good
.

Amos pretended he didn’t know Melissa was there. He took a book off the shelf and opened it.

Here it comes
, Dunc thought.

Amos leaned his free hand against a row of books. There was no backing behind them, and they shot out into the adjacent aisle like cannonballs. They hit the librarian right in the nose as she was reshelving a book about human anatomy. She was out cold, with her glasses split down the middle and hanging from her ears.

Amos lost his balance and clutched the shelf as he fell. It broke off in his hand and tumbled to the ground with him. An avalanche of books about skiing cascaded down, burying him. Only his feet stuck out from under the pile. Melissa looked at him and shook her head. As he climbed to his feet, she walked away.

After the mess was cleaned up and the
school nurse had led the dazed librarian away, Amos walked back to the table.

“I don’t think that went too well,” Amos said. “What do you think?”

“Amos—”

“You’re right. Melissa must think I’m a real dork now.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. A book about the Alps fell on your head. I don’t think she recognized you.”

“Good. Then she still thinks I’m cool.”

“Well—”

“What were we talking about?” Amos snapped his fingers. “I remember. Ghosts. You said ghosts couldn’t exist because they don’t fit your narrow way of thinking.”

“That isn’t what I said. I said it wasn’t possible for
this
ghost to exist.”

“Why not?”

“Since when do ghosts have to use doorways? I thought they could walk through walls.”

“They don’t always have to walk through walls. I imagine that if they want to use doorways, they can.”

“Since when do ghosts need to carry lanterns
or clomp their feet on stairways? If he was a ghost, how could he clomp his feet at all?”

“Ghosts have been known to carry lights. They’ve also been known to make noises.”

“So have people. In fact, I’d say the vast majority of all beings who have to carry lights, make noise, and use doorways are people.”

“Are you saying that ghost was a man dressed up like a ghost?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something in the house he’s trying to hide.”

“Or maybe he’s a ghost and he gets a big kick out of scaring people. Maybe he wants to scare them to death so he has some company.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Amos leaned back in the library chair. “No way, Dunc. Uh-uh. Not for all the money in the world.”

“Come on, Amos. Maybe Blackbeard’s treasure really is in the house. Maybe the man’s protecting it.”

“Treasure. You always say there might be treasure, but there never is. We find gunpowder exploding and time warps closing, but we never find any treasure.”

“But why else would he want to scare us away?”

“Because he’s a ghost and it’s his nature.”

“I bet Melissa would be impressed if you went back in again. She’d think you were brave.”

“She already thinks I’m cool. She doesn’t need to think I’m brave.”

“But she’ll love you forever.”

“Don’t bring her into this. You always sucker me into things by bringing in Melissa.”

“Well, all right, if you don’t want to even try. I just thought …” Dunc shrugged. “Forget it.”

Amos watched him for a long time. Dunc was reading his book. He didn’t look up.

“Forget what?”

“Nothing. It’s silly.”

“Tell me, Dunc.”

“It’s just a stupid idea I had. It’s not worth bringing up.”

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to jump over the table and shake it out of you?”

Dunc closed his book. “All right, if you really want to know.”

“I want to know.”

“I was just thinking that if we found the treasure, we’d get our picture in the paper. Women always go for guys who get their picture in the paper.”

“Do they?”

“Sure. I know Melissa does, anyway. She cuts out pictures of one guy and puts them on her wall every time he’s in the paper.”

“Who?”

“Biff Fastrack.”

“Biff Fastrack?” Biff was the captain of the football team. He scored a million touchdowns a game or something. “Melissa likes Biff? He doesn’t have a neck.”

“The only reason she likes him is because he gets his picture in the paper.”

“It would have to be. How can a girl like
someone who doesn’t have a neck? It would be like falling in love with Barney Rubble.”

“On the other hand, you have a neck …”

“And if I can get my picture in the paper …”

The bell rang. School was over.

“Let’s go,” Amos said.

“Where to?”

“Over to your house. We have to plan how we’re going to investigate the Rambridge house.”

•
3

“Listen,” Amos said. “I’m having second thoughts about this.”

He and Dunc were lying in the grass on top of a hill overlooking the back of the Rambridge house. Dunc had a pair of binoculars and was trying to look through a window.

“Think about your picture on Melissa’s wall,” he said.

Amos thought. “Well …”

“When we find this treasure, it will probably be the size of the whole front page.”

“Kind of like a poster, huh?”

“She could laminate it. That way she could kiss it without ruining the paper.”

“Let’s go,” Amos said.

“Go where?”

“Into the house. We’ll never see anything from up here. If you want to see ghosts, you have to go in and see them. I’ve been by this house a million times and never seen a thing.”

“What time of the day did you go by?” Dunc asked.

“All times of the day.”

“Ever watch it at night?”

“Yes. I ran by here last Halloween at the stroke of midnight, after I left your place. I didn’t see a single ghost.”

“Do you want to know why?” Dunc asked.

“I already know why. Ghosts don’t care what their neighbors are doing, so you don’t see them peeking out the windows.”

“That’s not the reason. The reason is that there are no such things as ghosts.”

“Tell that to the big white guy with the smoking ears.” Amos pulled up a blade of grass and chewed on it.

“What side of the house did you run by?” Dunc asked.

“The front side.”

“Ever watch the back?”

“Well … no.”

“Good. Then we’re not wasting our time.” He put the binoculars down. “I can’t see anything—”

“I told you.”

“—yet. We’ll just have to wait a little longer. Something’s bound to happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Look at the gravel road that runs along the back. See those tire tracks? Somebody must have been driving there not too long ago, or the rain would’ve washed the tracks away. Ghosts don’t drive vehicles.”

“Don’t be so sure. I heard a story once about a truck driver who ran himself off a cliff instead of hitting a school bus, and now hitchhikers on that road say they get picked up by a spooky trucker with big green eyes.”

“Look.” Dunc pointed down the hill. “I told you we wouldn’t have to wait long.”

A white van drove down the gravel road. It stopped behind the Rambridge house,
and two men climbed out. One of them with a bottle in his hand unlocked the back door. The other walked to the rear of the van and took out a large box. He followed the first man into the house.

“I wonder what’s in that box,” Dunc said.

“A ghost cage.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen them on Saturday-morning cartoons. A box that size could hold a thousand ghosts. You can pack them in like sardines.”

“Let’s go down and find out.”

“Now? With those two down there?”

“We’ll wait a little while and see if they leave and, if they do, whether the box goes with them.” Dunc studied the house with the binoculars again.

Minutes passed. The minutes turned into an hour, then two hours. Dunc was still studying the house. Amos was watching the sun begin to set. The rays looked like the light in Melissa’s hair when the sun hit it. He tried to imagine the two of them running through the fields, romantic music in the air, their arms outstretched to each other.
But every time he did, he saw himself tripping on something. Even his imagination was clumsy.

“This is boring, Dunc.”

“Have patience. Something will happen.”

“We’ve been waiting for two hours for something to happen. Nothing has. Nothing will.”

“Those guys went in. They have to come out again.” A bead of sweat rolled down Dunc’s face. He wiped it away without taking his eyes from the binoculars. He stiffened.

“Here they come,” he said.

The two men came out the back door. They climbed into the van and drove away.

Dunc stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Down to the house.”

“They didn’t take the box with them. That means there’s a thousand ghosts in there, not to mention Blackbeard.”

“Well, I’m going.” Dunc jogged down the hill.

Amos didn’t move. He shook his head. “It isn’t worth it. No newspaper will put a picture
on the front page of a guy with chewed-off cheeks. I don’t want to face a ghost.”

He was talking to himself. Dunc was already halfway down the hill. Amos stood and reluctantly followed.

•
4

“The door’s locked.”

Dunc scanned the back of the house. There were no other doors and no windows they could reach. “We’ll have to go in the front.”

Amos stared at him. “Don’t you remember the last time we tried going in the front? We ran into Blackbeard, and—”