Ghost Town (4 page)

“You want to go in?” the boy called to me. “Totally slow today. By the end of the summer, everyone's over it.” He shrugged. “I'm kind of over it too. The job, I mean.”

“No thanks.” I'd never been inside a haunted house before. I saw enough scary stuff on a normal day. I couldn't imagine what I'd encounter in there.

I raised my camera and focused on an empty saltwater taffy box overflowing with crumpled wrappers. I snapped from several angles.

“More garbage, huh?” the boy called.

I glanced back at him. He leaned on the ticket stand and pressed a large button. Several bars of a foreboding melody blared from a nearby loudspeaker. Why was he talking to me? I wondered. As if he could read my mind, he kept talking.

“Look, I'm bored, okay? I'd quit, but I need the money. I'm saving for a new Nikon.” He adjusted the brim of his cap. “You on vacation?”

“Nope. We just moved here.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Cool. I'm David. I'll be in ninth grade.”

“Sara. Seventh.”

“You should totally check out the haunted house. It may look run-down, but it's still way scary. It's a must-see for all the kids who live here!”

“No thanks.”

“You chicken?” he teased.

I shrugged. “Just not interested.”

“It's real, you know,” he said. “This house was haunted first,
then
it became an attraction.”

That
got my attention.

“In the early 1900s, a ship captain built this house for his young bride. Back then, this house rested on the bluffs, past the lighthouse. Anyway, the captain loved his wife, and they were very happy until”—David paused—“until the night of the big storm.”

“What happened?” I couldn't believe I was asking.

“The ship was due back on a Friday, which happened to be the captain and his wife's first wedding anniversary. The wife had prepared a celebratory dinner. She'd set the table. She'd baked a cake. She dressed in her finest dress and waited for her love's return from the sea. Oops, hang on.” David stopped to sell tickets and usher the visitors into the attraction.

As I waited, the spots slowly appeared. Dots of light danced before my eyes. A swirling that made me light-headed. I tried to breathe slowly. My stomach swayed and I felt slightly off-balance. I hoped I was just thirsty from the heat.

I
prayed
I was just thirsty.

“But, as I said, there was a storm,” David continued. I tried to focus on his words. “Howling winds. Slashing rain. The wife lit all the lanterns in the house, hoping the warm glow would guide her husband home.”

David leaned over the stand. The speckled lights faded, but the tingling in my foot started. I bit my lip, bracing for what would come next.

“But the ship never returned,” he said. “The wife sat in her pretty dress by the window overlooking the sea and waited and waited. She didn't eat, even though the feast and cake were set out on the table. She didn't sleep.”

A hazy glow glimmered alongside David. Dull at first, but growing in intensity. I shifted and slid to the far side of the bench, trying to get away.

“Hey, don't you want to hear the end of the story?” David asked.

“The sun,” I said, as if that were an explanation. “Go on.” Twisting back around, I forced myself to concentrate on David's face as he spoke.
Focus on details like you're taking a picture
, I told myself.

“She was found withered and dead weeks later in that very spot,” he was saying.

“Horrible,” I muttered. Pushing out this one word was a challenge. The glow had gained form, and the pressure around me deepened. I began to see the outline of a man.

“But she never left the house. Not really. The following owners reported seeing lights flash and seeing a woman standing by the window. . . .”

The man seemed old. Stooped over. Shaky.

“The guy who built the pier had the house moved here.” David gestured to the Victorian mansion behind him, but I was transfixed by the man—who was now moving
toward me.

I recoiled, nearly falling backward off the bench.

“Whoa! It's not that scary,” David said. He laughed.

I couldn't respond. My eyes expanded in fear. The man kept moving forward. Moving toward me. Never before had a spirit advanced on me. They just shimmered and kept their distance, as if we were divided by an invisible barrier. The living on one side, the dead on the other.

The old man was only inches away.

His eyes, not vacant like all the others I'd seen before, focused upon me. No longer was there a barrier. It was me . . . and him.

And then I felt his deathly cold grip on my bare shoulder.

I screamed as the icy hand squeezed my shoulder.

“Did he really scare you?”

I whirled about. The girl with the oversize sunglasses from my street stood behind me. Her hand rested on my shoulder. She held an enormous Slushie in her other hand.

“You're shaking.” She removed her hand and took an exaggerated slurp of her drink. Frosty red liquid shot up the wide straw. “You okay?” She looked genuinely concerned.

I scanned the boardwalk, trying to get my bearings. He's gone, I realized. The spirit of the old man had vanished.

“I'm good.” I wasn't really, but there was no way I could explain.

David handed a woman in a floppy sun hat a ticket. He pressed the music button, and the haunting melody played as she entered the mansion's double doors. “Wow! You were totally scared,” he said, pleased with himself.

“Yeah. I was.”
Just not by you
, I thought. I took a deep breath.

“Oh, get over yourself, David!” the girl cried. “You're about as scary as an after-school cartoon.” She turned to me. “Do not let this boy play with your mind.”

She gave him a playful shove, then twisted back to me. “So how's your first day here? I saw you before. Speeding down our street like someone was chasing you. My cousin Nick came by and said you seemed upset, so my mom sent me to go hunt you down. She's big on making sure everyone in a ten-mile radius is happy. So here I am.” She raised her sunglasses and peered at David. “Personally, I wouldn't have chosen my cousin here to cheer you up. I would never call Nature Boy cheery.”

“I'm cheery except when you're around, Lily,” he countered. His smile betrayed him. He was teasing her.

“You're cousins?” I repeated, looking back and forth between them.

“I know! Can you believe David and I are related? I mean, Nick—you met him, right?—he's a total cutie, so that makes sense that we share blood. He's my cousin too. But David here”—she took a rare breath while speaking—“definitely problems on that branch of our family tree.”

She didn't give me a chance to respond. Not that I had any idea what to say.

“Oh, wow. I never introduced myself. My mom is always on me about my manners. I'm Lily Randazzo. I'm twelve too. Nick told me you're twelve.” Lily's chocolate-brown eyes danced as she talked. She wore white cutoffs and three long silver necklaces over an electric-blue tank top that seemed lifeless compared with her personality.

“I'm Sara Collins,” I said. “I—”

Lily grabbed my hand before I could finish and pulled me off the bench. Her fingers were still cold from the Slushie. “Let's walk. Nick told me you're from California. Do you know any movie stars? Oh, you look like such a California girl. I would die for your
amazing blond hair. Is everyone as gorgeous as you out there?”

I followed Lily, wondering how Nick had managed to scrounge up so much information about me. My dad was pretty quiet. I didn't see him gossiping with some random college boy, but it had to have been him. Surely, Lady Azura wouldn't have talked so much about me. . . .

Lily bubbled on about Stellamar, and I told her about California. She was disappointed to discover that I didn't live near Hollywood and had never seen a celebrity, but she quickly found other things about California to exclaim over. She seemed to see the bright side in everything. Her energy was contagious.

“I'm so glad you moved to our street. I have three brothers, and Cammie, that's my little sister, is only four, so I could so use a girl nearby.”

“Me too.” And, strangely enough, I
was
glad that Lily was my neighbor. I wanted to be friends with her. Real friends.

I'd never had a best friend. I'd always kept to myself because it's hard to truthfully answer questions about why I get dizzy and act weird sometimes. I gazed at
Lily, who was showing me the dance moves of the jazz routine she performed at a recital last spring. People gazed curiously at her, but she didn't care. She danced on.

I really liked her.

I sprawled on my teal and raspberry comforter in my new bedroom two days later, scrolling through the photos I'd taken so far. Yesterday, Dad and I had walked the length of the beach together. I'd snapped a kid's sand castle disintegrating as the waves crashed down. I couldn't wait to download it onto my computer. Maybe begin a new collage.

I eyed the boxes piled by my dresser and groaned. My computer was packed away in the largest box. Dad had promised we could bring my computer and art supplies upstairs to the third floor and convert one room up there into a craft room. But today was his first day at the new job. I had no idea what time he'd be home.

I thought about dragging the boxes upstairs myself, but then dismissed the idea. I didn't know who was lurking up there—and I didn't want to find out. The spirits in the house had left me alone so far.

“Sara! Sara!” Lady Azura's husky voice floated up the stairs. For such a frail woman, she packed extraordinary lung power. “Sara! Could you come down?”

I headed downstairs, feeling a little apprehensive. It was our first time alone together.

Except I couldn't find her.

She wasn't in the foyer, or the sitting room with its overstuffed sofa and chairs, or the kitchen directly behind the sitting room. A deep purple crushed-velvet curtain hung across the doorway to the right of the front door, opposite the sitting room. I hesitated.

“What are you waiting for, child?” Lady Azura called. “Come in.”

How does she know I'm here?
I wondered.

Pushing the thick material aside, I stepped inside.

A round table with a silky red tablecloth and gold-lace overlay stood in the center of the room. An enormous crystal ball on a pedestal and a fanned-out deck of tarot cards rested on the table. A huge armchair covered in a nubby mustard fabric and two spindly wooden chairs were gathered around. An ornate woven tapestry depicting the moon, the planets, and the stars hung on the side wall. Thick red curtains held back
by braided gold rope shaded the front bay windows. Dusty leather books, crystals, and mysterious-looking containers of colorful liquids filled the shelves lining the back wall.

It's the perfect fortune-telling room, I realized. The air radiated with expectation and hope.

“Hello?” I called uncertainly. A small, fringed lamp on a corner table and eight candles of various sizes all smelling of cinnamon gave off dim light.

“Back here, dear,” Lady Azura called from behind another purple velvet curtain in the back corner.

It's like searching for Oz
, I thought with a smile. I pushed back the curtain and entered Lady Azura's bedroom.

It was like entering a different world.

Everything was white and black. A low-backed sofa in white leather. A sleek glass coffee table. Two modern black chairs with white pillows. A simple bed with stark white bedding. Lady Azura sat at a black-lacquered vanity and stared into a huge mirror surrounded by dozens of round lightbulbs. It looked as if it belonged in an old-time Hollywood dressing room. It was the most sophisticated-looking room I had ever seen.

I watched her shaky hand outline her thin lips with crimson lipstick.

“Ah, you arrive,” she said, her attention still on her lips. She added a second coat. Then she turned toward me. “What do you think of my old house?”

I wasn't sure what to say.
It needs a lot of work?
“It's nice,” I replied, twisting a strand of hair around my finger.

“You crowded up there?” She stared at me. Her false eyelashes never blinked.

Can she see the dead people roaming about too?
I paused.

Lady Azura began to chuckle. A low rumble from deep in her throat. “Oh, my! How could you and your father be crowded in all those rooms upstairs? You must know I'm joking, child.” She threw her head back and laughed. “It's so nice to have company after all this time.”

I forced out a laugh, as if I'd been in on the joke all along. It was just my imagination.
She doesn't know anything about you
, I reminded myself.

Lady Azura stood. She was a bit shorter than I was. She reached for a silky white scarf hanging on a nearby rack and wrapped it about her head, creating a
somewhat modern turban. “So you can ride that bike all right?” she asked suddenly.

“No problem,” I assured her.

“Good. I have a list then.” She plucked a scrap of paper from her vanity and handed it to me. “Will you be a dear and pick up these items for me? At Elber's and the other stores in town, we have an arrangement. Just give my name, and they'll bill me.”

“Sure.” I glanced down at the list. Each item was written in her very neat script.

 

Peppermint Tea

Epsom Salt

Bay Leaves

Gummy Worms (not the sour kind)

“You want candy?” I blurted.

“I believe in a healthy amount of sugar every day,” Lady Azura replied, her tone serious. “I find it balances out the misery in the world.” Then she grinned and whispered, “I just love chewy candy, don't you?”