Moonlight Secrets (2 page)

It was late October, almost Halloween, and our shoes crunched over the hard ground. Dry leaves danced around us in a sharp, gusting wind. The moon was hidden behind low clouds. Once again, we were the Night People, and the world was ours.

Tonight we returned to the grounds of the Fear Mansion. It was especially cold outside,
and none of the others had made it out. But Jamie and I were there for a reason.

“I think tonight is the night I will hear from Cindy,” Jamie had said as I drove her home from school that afternoon. “I just have a feeling, Lewis.”

She was always having feelings about this stuff. I kept my mouth shut and tried not to argue.

“Cindy died exactly two months ago today,” Jamie said, tensely twisting a strand of her dark hair. “And two was her lucky number. I know it sounds crazy. But I want to be outside the Fear Mansion tonight watching for her signal.”

“Why there? Why the Fear Mansion?” I asked.

“It was just knocked down, right?” she replied. “The ghosts have been disturbed. They'll be all around, Lewis. I know they will.”

* * *

Jamie and I were there the afternoon the workers came and knocked down what was left of the Fear Mansion. We watched from across the street. It was a warm day in early fall. The leaves still shimmered green on the trees.

They used one of those giant battering balls. The ball shattered the brick walls. It didn't take long for the house to just crumble in on itself.

I had my arm around Jamie's shoulders, and I felt her whole body shake when the house came crashing down. She shut her big, brown eyes tight.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

She didn't answer for a while. A sharp gust of wind fluttered her dark hair behind her back. She shivered again.

“I just had a feeling,” she said. She shrugged and gave me a smile, almost like apologizing. “A cold feeling. No big deal, Lewis.”

“You think there are ghosts in there?”

“Maybe,” Jamie said.

I tried to kiss her, but she turned to the house.

A thick cloud of dust rose up from the ruins of the mansion. The wind swept the dust over us, and we both spun away, coughing.

I smoothed dirt off the front of my T-shirt. Then I brushed some leaves from Jamie's blue sweater.

Workers were bulldozing what was left of
the house. The thud of bricks and the clatter of shattered glass echoed off the old trees.

It gave me a chill too. I'm not sure why.

* * *

And tonight, here we were, back on Fear Street. Because Jamie had a hunch. . . .

Would this be the night she'd finally contact the ghost world?

“There
had
to be a lot of ghosts in that house, Lewis,” she said. “Their resting place has been destroyed. The ghosts will be out. The spirit power will be high. Perfect for Cindy to try to contact me.”

I snickered. “Because the ghosts are
homeless
? You're joking, right?”

I could see she wasn't joking. “Forget it. You can just leave,” she said sharply. “Christa and Elena will come with me.”

“Hey—I'm here,” I said. “I'm ready. Check it out. I brought my new digital camera, didn't I?”

So there we were, just the two of us at one in the morning, huddled in the gusting wind outside the wrecked Fear Mansion.

“You're shivering,” Jamie said. She pulled the zipper on my jacket up to my neck. “Are you scared, Lewis?”

I rolled my eyes. “Huh? Yeah. Like, really. It's
cold,
Jamie. Why don't we come back in the spring and look for ghosts?”

She ignored my question and pulled a tape recorder from her backpack. She had her hair tied in a ponytail, and it got caught in the backpack strap. I pulled her hair free as she fiddled with the tape controls.

“I know you don't believe me,” Jamie said. “But this is the perfect place to find someone from the spirit world. You know the stories about the Fear Mansion. Simon and Angelica Fear were supposed to be the most evil people in the world.”

“We studied it all in fourth grade,” I said. “I thought it was a crock back then. And so did you. Why don't you put down the recorder and come warm me up?”

She smiled. “Maybe later. Do you know about the Fears' daughters? The two little girls who were found in the woods? I mean, their skin was found, but their bones were totally gone.”

I shook my head. “I
hate
when that happens.”

Jamie glanced around. The wind had
stopped. A hush fell over us. I watched my breath steam up in front of me.

“There must be dozens of spirits lingering on this spot,” Jamie whispered. “You know. Poor souls who were tortured by the Fears. Angelica Fear was a witch. She cast spells on a lot of people. And now their ghosts are waiting around to get revenge.”

I shivered again. “How long is this going to take?” I asked.

Jamie shrugged. “As long as it takes. Cindy promised she'd send a signal. The spirit energy is so high here, Lewis. I can feel it.”

We sat down on a pile of bricks, and we didn't say another word. The only sound was the soft whir of Jamie's recorder.

No wind at all. The trees around the grounds stood still and silent. No cars on the street. The houses all around lay crumbled, in ruin, ready to be carted away.

Yes, I suddenly felt creeped out.

I don't believe in ghosts. And I never really got into the stories about the Fear Family. But sitting there so silent and alert, listening and staring out into the darkness, I felt a cold tingle at the back of my neck.

“Sometimes ghosts appear as bright orbs,” Jamie whispered. “Little flashes of light that you can't explain any other way.”

“Have you seen any?” I whispered back.

“Not yet,” she whispered.

She edged closer to me. I pressed my shoulder against hers. We sat there for a long time. My nose was getting numb, and my fingers felt frozen stiff under my gloves. I watched my breath puff up in front of me and waited.

I was being a real good sport here. Jamie was going to owe me—big-time.

“I feel something,” she whispered. “I'm serious, Lewis. I sense something strange, something very close.”

“I don't see anything,” I whispered.

“Shhhh.” She shoved me in the ribs. Her whole body went stiff. She kept her eyes straight ahead of her. “Who are you?” she called out. “I know you're here. Cindy—is it you?”

Silence.

I watched for a shiny orb of light, but I didn't see one.

“Are you there?” Jamie called, her voice just above a whisper. “Cindy? It's me. Are you there?”

No reply.

We sat there some more, breathing softly, not moving.

Finally her tape recorder made a loud click. “End of tape,” she said. “Let's see if we got anything.”

I clenched and unclenched my fingers, trying to get some feeling back in them. I'd been gripping the camera so hard, my fingers ached. My knees cracked as I climbed to my feet.

“I'm totally frozen,” I said. “I can't stay out here in the cold listening to the tape. Besides, we didn't see or hear anything.”

Jamie grabbed my arm. She pressed her cold cheek against mine. “Let's go to my house, Lewis. We can listen in my bedroom.”

“You're kidding, right? If your parents catch me in your bedroom . . .”

“They're heavy sleepers,” Jamie said, stepping over a pile of bricks, heading to the street. “How do you think I get out every night? It's almost three-thirty in the morning. They won't wake up till their alarm goes off at seven. Trust me.”

* * *

We crept up the stairs to Jamie's bedroom, leaning hard on the banister so the steps wouldn't creak. We tiptoed into her room; it was all pale yellow and white with an old
X-Files
poster framed on the wall.

Jamie shut the door carefully. I slid my arms around her waist and started to kiss her, but she pushed me away. “Not now, Lewis. We've got to check this out.”

We both dropped down on the edge of her bed. She removed the cassette from her tape recorder, turned it over, and slipped it back. Then she pushed play.

I could hear the wind on the tape. Then I heard Jamie and me talking. I was complaining about how cold I was. Then there was a long silence.

“Fast forward,” I said. “There's nothing there.” I reached for the tape player, but she slapped my hand away.

“Just shut up and listen. I felt something, Lewis. A presence. Maybe it was Cindy. Maybe she left something for us on the tape.”

So we sat in silence and listened to the wind on the tape. I couldn't help it. I started to yawn. I wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

I felt myself drifting off . . . when the voice came on.

I sat up straight. “What was that?”

Jamie let out a gasp. She jumped to her feet, alert now. She gripped the tape player tightly in her hand. And we heard the voice again.

The voice of a ghost. . . .

“Back it up. Back it
up,” I said, my voice suddenly hoarse and breathless.

Jamie stared at me. “You heard it too?”

I nodded.

“I thought maybe I imagined it. The voice . . . it seems so far away,” Jamie said. “I couldn't tell if it was Cindy or not.” She rewound the tape and we listened again, pressing our ears close to the little speaker.

A roar of wind. And then a woman's voice, faint, so distant, rising over the wind.

“Mine. . . . Did you take mine?”

I think that's what she said. The voice was so soft.

I swallowed hard. My throat suddenly felt dry and tight. I grabbed Jamie's arm. “Play it again.”

“Sshhh.” She shook her head.

The tape rolled. Silence. Then the woman's voice again.

“. . . pay. If you took what is mine, you will pay.”

Then silence.

Jamie and I stood frozen in the middle of her room, staring at the tape player. My heart was pounding. I felt kinda light-headed, as if maybe I was dreaming this.

A voice from the
other side
?

Jamie gripped the tape player tightly. I could see that her hands were shaking.

We listened to the silence. Occasional bursts of wind.

Then I heard Jamie's voice on the tape. A whisper: “I feel something. I'm serious, Lewis. I feel something strange, something very close.”

She pushed stop. “I was right,” she said. “There
was
someone close. That woman. I could feel her there, Lewis. I knew I was right.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I didn't know what to say. I mean, I don't believe in ghosts. At least, I didn't believe in ghosts—until then.

“Play it again,” I said finally.

Jamie rewound it, and we listened to the faraway voice again. And again.

“. . . pay. If you took what is mine, you will pay.”

I shivered. “What does that mean? What is she saying?”

Jamie shook her head. “She sounds so angry.” She set the tape player down on the bed. “It's not Cindy. Do you think maybe it's someone from the Fear family?”

“I . . . I just can't believe we recorded the voice of someone who's
dead,
” I said.

We stared at each other. We were both thinking hard. Thinking about ghosts. . . .

Jamie rewound the tape, and once again we listened to the wind—and then the woman's cold, distant voice.

“. . . pay. If you took what is mine, you will pay.”

Jamie clicked off the tape player. She held it tightly in her lap and turned to me. “You know what this means, don't you, Lewis?”

“No. What?” I said.

“Someone was trying to contact us. Trying to connect with us. We have no choice. We have to go back there.”

Jamie and I didn't get
back to the grounds of the Fear Mansion for another week. She had the flu for a few days, and I had to go with my family to visit my cousins near Detroit.

The next Friday night, we both sneaked out of our houses a little after one in the morning and met on Fear Street. To my surprise, a lot of work had been done in the short time we were away.

The ground was still littered with roof shingles and shards of window glass. But most of the bricks from the walls, the floorboards, and the slabs of sheetrock had been hauled away.

And as Jamie and I made our way over the front yard, we saw a mountain of dirt beside a
deep hole. The workers had begun to dig a foundation for the new building.

Stepping over broken shingles, we made our way to the edge of the hole and stared down. Jamie held her tape recorder in one hand. She grabbed my arm with the other hand and held on to me.

A dog barked somewhere down the street, the only other sign of life. We were surrounded by dark trees, still in a windless night.

“This mansion had such a reputation,” Jamie said softly. “So many rumors and stories. And now look at it. It's just a pile of dirt and a hole in the ground.”

“Did you play the tape for Christa and Elena?” I asked.

She shook her head. She had a floppy, purple cap over her hair. She wore a baggy sweater pulled down over her jeans and had a long scarf wrapped around her neck. “I was sick, remember? I told them about it, but I couldn't play it for them.”

“Aaron and Whitney said they were here Wednesday night,” I told Jamie. “I didn't tell them about the ghost or anything. No way they'd believe me.”

“What were they doing here?” Jamie asked. She didn't wait for an answer. She let out a soft cry and dropped to her knees.

She stared into the hole. “Hey, Lewis—what's that down there?”

I squatted beside her. At first I didn't see anything. But then I saw a dull sparkle in the dirt. “Just a piece of metal, I think.”