Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House (11 page)

BOOK: Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House
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Chapter Nineteen

Chloe made sure she was extra quiet on her way out
that night. She didn't want Aunt Larry asking any more questions. Instead of waiting inside, she went ahead and snuck out the back door and onto the deck. The night was clear and warm like a hug. There was a light breeze, enough to ruffle her hair and make the trees whisper, but that was all. She sat in the dark and waited, lost in 1941.

Right at eleven o'clock, Marsh appeared around the back of the house. He was dressed all in black. Chloe tried not to laugh. He was acting weird, like he thought he was a spy or something. She stifled her giggle behind her hand as he crept up to her, looking this way and that as if he had been followed.

She got up and went to him while he continued to
scope out the backyard.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Shhh!” he hissed at her. “No talking until we're a safe distance. Never know who could be watching.” He slunk off into the night. Chloe, still amused, started after him. A flicker of light above her brought her to a halt. The boy was standing in the window, watching her. Chloe waved at him. He vanished.

Knowing she was doing what he wanted made her
feel better. Chloe turned and plodded after Marsh. She caught up with him at the edge of the grass where he waited for her with obvious impatience. He moved off again, leaving her to follow. She had to hurry, knowing how fast Marsh moved, but needn't have worried. He was so wrapped up in his game that he was going much
more slowly, stopping to check imagined noises and make sure they hadn't been followed. Chloe found it
hilarious.

Once they were far enough away from the house, Marsh spoke up.

“Can't be too careful,” he told her. “Spies everywhere. Need to keep this operation clean and professional.”

Chloe nodded in agreement. “Gotcha,” she said. “Now what?”

“We head for the back of Joseph's place,” he said. “After I make sure the coast is clear.”

A thought occurred to her as they slunk through the night (him by choice, her because he would shoot looks at her if she didn't).

“Why didn't we ask your parents?” She felt kind of
foolish as she realized how much easier it would have been. It was seventy years ago. They would know who the boy was.

Marsh shrugged, dropping out of character for a
minute.

“More fun this way,” he said. “Besides, I've seen the
stones. I know what we're looking for. Follow me.” He went back to slinking.

Chloe was trying to decide if Island kids were more weird than cool. Her friends in Ottawa would never do anything like what she and Marsh were up to.

Chloe could see the fence up ahead in the glow coming from the cottage windows. Just on their side of it, Marsh
grabbed her and hauled her into the grass where he
crouched, watching Joseph's place with an eagle eye.

“Have to wait for the lights to go out,” he said. Chloe found a comfortable spot and sat down. It wasn't long before the leftover moisture in the grass wet through
the seat of her jeans. And the mosquitoes were out.
After a few minutes of slapping, Chloe was losing her enthusiasm for the whole adventure. Marsh, however, had thought of bugs and produced a small can of spray.
After a liberal dose of the stuff, Chloe was no longer
tormented by insects, but she was stinky. That coupled
with her wet jeans made her wish she could just go
home, but she decided to stay. J was worth it.

When Marsh produced a large chocolate bar from his jacket and gave her half, Chloe started warming back up to the idea. Especially when her stomach growled to remind her she had skipped dinner.

It seemed like forever that they sat there in the long, damp grass. Marsh kept lighting up his watch from one of the buttons on the side. Chloe tried not to focus on the time. Every time he turned it on, however, she couldn't help herself. 11:12. 11:17. 11:25. The time dragged on and on. And her candy bar was a long-forgotten memory.
She amused herself by wadding up bits of grass and
mud and throwing them at Marsh. Every time she hit him, he would shoot her a look that made her want to laugh out loud. His attempts to shush her led to another packed ball tossed his way.

As his watch read 11:43, the light in the cottage went dark. Marsh made her wait another five minutes before parting the barbed wire and helping her through the fence. On the other side, she was surprised to find Marsh was starting to rub off on her. She felt like a secret agent or a treasure hunter in dangerous territory and decided it was cool after all.

Halfway to the cottage, they startled some birds nesting in the grass and had to hunch down, hearts pounding, to wait and see if the old man noticed. Chloe tried hard not to giggle but a few snorts escaped her. Marsh was grinning, his teeth shining in the faint light of the rising moon. The cottage remained dark and silent. After a bit of a wait they moved on.

Chloe's sense of adventure followed her all the way to the tiny yard. They circled around away from the rusted
old car and the small garden that faced Aunt Larry's
house. Marsh led her with complete confidence, again
in silence, through the long grass toward the back of
the property.

The backyard was full of old metal parts and machinery. Chloe was distracted by the sight, but when she drifted closer for a look, she found herself being pulled back on course by Marsh. Beyond that different kind of graveyard, they stumbled out of the tangle of long grass and into a small patch of tidiness. Chloe could just make out the stones in the darkness. She shivered next to Marsh as he eased open the small iron gate that was the only entry. The cemetery was surrounded by a short fence and was neat and tidy, unlike the rest of the property. Chloe eased through the open gate and cringed away from the very tall stone that leaned with age over the entry. She followed Marsh inside, being careful to shield her flashlight with her hand so that only the stones were illuminated.

After a few moments searching, she heard Marsh hiss at her. Chloe went to him and looked at the headstone he was lighting up with his own flashlight. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the stone.

April 13, 1931 – July 14, 1941

Joshua Robert MacKenzie

Gone Too Soon

But Never Forgotten

Chloe felt tears well in her eyes. She reached out and touched the stone.

“He was our age,” Marsh said, doing the math.

Chloe knew that but didn't know how.

“Joshua,” she said.

He appeared behind the stone in a glow of light. Marsh let out a yell and fell back, losing his flashlight in the grass. Chloe caught her breath, but wasn't afraid. Joshua's face was covered in tears as he looked down at his own grave, then back to her before vanishing.

She registered Marsh beside her as she pulled out a small notebook and jotted down the dates on the stone. Marsh suddenly started pulling on her arm, his flashlight now dead in his hand. She was aware then of the light behind her and turned to see the interior of the cottage lit up. She heard the screen door bang open and saw Joseph emerge. He had a shotgun.

“Who's out there?” he roared into the night. Marsh pulled Chloe along to the gate and out into the long grass, staying as low as possible. Joseph was waving the gun around and shouting. “Show yourselves, you little varmints!”

Marsh wormed deeper into the grass and watched the old man. He flashed a grin at Chloe who found she wasn't scared at all. She grinned back, feeling exhilarated, her mind going to Anne and the redhead's bravery. Maybe
some of what she had read of her fellow orphan had
rubbed off.

Chloe and Marsh sat there for a long time, listening to Joseph yelling at them but knowing they were safe. The old man gave up and went back inside. Chloe could no longer hold in her giggles. She and Marsh laughed and laughed, as quietly as possible. Chloe clutched at
her ribs as they started to ache, wiping at tears that
squeezed from her eyes. Marsh was grunting little snorts of laughter, and kept slapping the ground with his hand.

When their adrenaline-fed humour ran out, Marsh led Chloe back to the fence and helped her through it. Safe on the other side, Marsh was enthusiastic.

“That was awesome!” He jumped up and down, fists pumping the air. “Not only did we pull one over on the
old crank, I got to see a ghost!” He high-fived Chloe. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me,” he
told her.

Chloe laughed at him. “Thanks,” she said. “You're not so bad yourself.”

They parted ways at the grass border of her backyard.

“We'll do some research tomorrow and see what we can find out about him,” Marsh said. “I'll be over in the
morning, okay? Wait for me!” He trotted off into the
night, waving at her.

Chloe waited until she couldn't see him anymore before sneaking back into the house.

Chapter Twenty

Chloe sagged against her bedroom door. She had made
it back to her room without alerting Aunt Larry. She was concerned about the smell of her clothes and hair from the bug spray, but knew she couldn't risk a shower that late at night without waking her aunt.

Instead, she went right to her desk and the journal.

“I found you,” she said. “Joshua. I know who you are now. I'm so glad I went. Marsh was right.” She giggled. “We could have found out somehow, but this was way more fun.” She sat back in her chair. “Now we just have to figure out what we can do to help you move on.”

Chloe turned at the glimmer of light. Joshua was standing by her door. He gestured toward it before floating right through it. Chloe was speechless. He wanted her to follow him, that much was obvious. She went to her door and peeked out. Joshua was at the bottom of the stairs. He pointed toward the interior of the house.

Unable to resist, she followed. She was almost to the stairs when the bathroom door opened and Aunt Larry stepped out. She shrieked at the sight of Chloe standing there. Chloe glanced down the staircase and saw Joshua disappear.

“Chloe!” Aunt Larry let out a big breath. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

Chloe muttered an apology. She knew how she looked, fully dressed, jeans still wet and stinking of bug spray. She saw her aunt taking it all in and witnessed the astonishment turn to concern.

“Where have you been?” Aunt Larry switched on the hall light to get a better look. Chloe was torn between being embarrassed and wanting to follow Joshua.

“Nowhere,” she lied, knowing it was obvious she was
lying but unable to come up with anything else right
then.

For the first time ever, Chloe saw Aunt Larry get mad.

“Chloe Olivia Sutton,” her aunt said, using the dreaded three names while crossing her arms over her chest and
scowling, “I want to know where you were and what
you were doing. It's after midnight!” Larry threw her hands up in the air.

“I was outside in the garden,” Chloe mumbled.

“Alone?” Aunt Larry stressed the word.

“Yes,” Chloe said.

“I see. And why were you in the garden?”

“Um… ” Chloe couldn't think of an excuse. “Because.”

“So you weren't with Marsh doing something you
shouldn't be doing?” Aunt Larry was still mad, but the edge of anger had left her voice. Still, Chloe didn't want to get her friend in trouble.

“No,” she said.

“Since there isn't a can of bug spray to be found in this house,” her aunt said, “I'm going to assume you're still lying to me. Chloe, just tell me.” Larry took a step toward her. “It's okay, really. I'm not mad. I… I want you to be safe and that cliff can be dangerous this time of night. Tell me you didn't go to the beach.”

Chloe shook her head, miserable. She didn't want to
worry her aunt, but she wasn't going to tell her the
truth, either.

“Do I have to call the MacKenzies?”

Chloe looked up at her, horrified. “No!” This was all Marsh's fault, the whole stupid graveyard thing, but she still wanted to keep him out of it. After all, she had no idea how much he would spill if confronted.

“Then tell me.” Aunt Larry was in a no-nonsense mood, but Chloe couldn't.

“No,” she said.

Her aunt looked startled. “Chloe!” Larry took a deep
breath before saying anything else. “You answer me
when I ask you a question, young lady.”

Chloe shook her head. “No,” she said.

Larry was flabbergasted. “I am not ready for this,” she said in a low voice, to herself, before speaking to Chloe again. “Fine. Go to your room. We'll talk in the morning.”

Chloe almost rebelled. She needed to find out what
Joshua wanted! But the look on Aunt Larry's face turned her around and sent her marching to her room. Chloe
closed and locked her door and ran to her bed, tears
rising in her eyes. She felt terrible lying to Aunt Larry.
Sophie would be so ashamed of her. But she couldn't
share the story of the ghost boy. It was hers. Aunt Larry would find some way to stop her from helping Joshua, she knew it. She imagined telling a therapist that there was a ghost in her house who wanted her to help him. She'd be off to the mental ward before she could turn around.

As she bundled her smelly self under the covers, Chloe admitted there was another more private and resounding reason. As long as she focused on Joshua, she didn't think about her parents quite so much and the hurt of losing them was less.

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