The Box and the Bone (10 page)

“About that stall,” Kate said when they had climbed up onto the bales, “what is it? I mean, what do you suppose it is?”

Aurora’s nod meant that she understood Kate’s curiosity. “I can’t exactly explain it,” she said. “But it’s like … like whenever I stop there she’s trying …”

“She?” Kate asked quickly. “Who’s a she? Is the ghost a she?”

Aurora thought for a while before she slowly nodded her head. “I think so. A girl, maybe. I think she wants to … Maybe she wants us to know something.”

Kate was fascinated. Aurora had never said much about the ghost before, except to agree with Kate that there must be one. Usually when they came to the barn she’d let Kate do most of the talking. They would sit on the pile of bales and talk about the pigeons and mice and bats that lived in the loft. And then sometimes they would talk about ghosts. Or at least Kate did.

Kate had always liked to read ghost stories. And she liked to talk about ghosts—and about what kind of ghost might live in an old barn. Usually Aurora would just listen. Actually, Aurora had never before said there was a ghost in the barn. Not in so many words. It was just that she acted as if there were. The main reason Kate was so certain there was a ghost was because of the way Aurora acted.

And now she was actually saying there was a ghost and it was a girl. Kate was very interested.

“What makes you think it’s—” she was starting to ask when Aurora suddenly grabbed her arm.

“Shh,” she said. “Listen. Someone’s coming.”

T
HEN KATE HEARD IT
too. The creak of the barn door, a thud, and then the soft whisper of footsteps. Kate and Aurora stared at each other.

“Mr. A.?” Kate whispered hopefully.

Aurora shook her head. “I don’t think the Andersons come here very much. Not anymore.”

The sounds continued. A door creaked open and slammed shut and the footsteps began again, moving on toward the ladder to the loft.

Suddenly Kate clenched her fists. “Those creeps,” she said. “I’ll bet it’s Bucky and the PROs. I’ll bet it’s those creeps again.”

Bucky Brockhurst, who was in Kate’s fifth-grade class, was a world-class pain in the neck. He was always teasing Kate and Aurora. And sometimes his friends, Carlos and Eddy, were in on his dirty tricks too. “They must have followed us here,” Kate said. “Come on. Let’s hide.” Kate grabbed Aurora’s arm and pulled her down behind a bale.

Kate was still crouched down in the straw when she heard Aurora whisper, “No, it’s not the PROs. Look, Kate. Look.”

Kate raised her head in time to see an unbelievably weird figure rising into the loft. At first it was only the top of a head. A round, smooth, perfectly bald head. Then came eyes. The head turned from side to side and big dark eyes looked around the loft. Kate ducked down behind the straw and then raised herself up again in time to see ears appear. Small ears hung with all kinds of dangling, sparkling earrings.

Suddenly she gasped with relief and poked Aurora. “Hey, it’s all right,” she said. “It’s just Bettina. Remember? I told you about meeting her. Last week while you were gone?”

A body was now appearing. A tall, thin shape wrapped in something long and flowing and flowery. Something that looked more like a drape than an actual dress. And below the uneven skirt there was a pair of enormous, clunky army boots. The weird figure finished the climb, straightened up, put its hands on its hips, and looked around. The bald head swiveled from side to side, setting the dangle of earrings to flashing and dancing.

“Come on,” Kate said to Aurora, who was still crouching behind the bales. Climbing out of their hiding place, she yelled, “Hey, Bettina! What are you doing here?”

When Kate yelled her name, Bettina Katzenbach whirled around and stared with wide, startled eyes. Kate had met her only once, because Bettina lived in New York City and had just arrived at Castle Court a few days before. But no one who had ever met Bettina would forget her. Not likely.

Bettina was, believe it or not, an Anderson grandkid. Believe it or not, because she was sixteen, which was older than most of the other Anderson grandkids. Older, and also weirder. A lot weirder.

When Kate called her name, Bettina jumped and whirled—but then she grinned. “Oh, it’s just you. What are you little dweebs doing up here? You really freaked me out, yelling at me that way.”

Kate, followed by Aurora, climbed down off the stack of bales. “Sorry about that,” she said. “We didn’t mean to scare you. But you scared us too. We thought you were a ghost.”

“Yeah? A ghost?” Bettina sounded interested. She started across the loft, in a flutter of flowery cloth and sparkling earrings. “Why’d you think—”

“Watch out!” Kate yelled. “Look out for the chute.”

Bettina had nearly stepped in one of the two hay chutes that led down to the stables below, but she managed to stop in time. When she got to where Kate and Aurora were standing she looked them over carefully, nodding her shiny bald head. “Yeah,” she said to Kate, “I remember you. You’re the kid who lives in that last house before the avenue. Right? The one with the geeky dog.”

Kate had been walking the Nicelys’ poodle when she met Bettina, and Fifi had almost had a heart attack. Fifi did get kind of hysterical at times, but for once Kate hadn’t exactly blamed her. Meeting Bettina unexpectedly could do that to anybody. For instance, at the moment, Aurora was looking pretty freaked herself.

“Relax,” Kate said to Aurora. “Bettina just dresses like that because she’s going to be a singer. You know, the kind that sings—” She paused. “What kind of songs did you say you sang?” she asked.

“Well, kind of like grunge, maybe. And protest,” Bettina said. “I sing protest songs a lot. That’s why I shave my head. You know, it’s like a protest.” She looked Aurora over, obviously checking out the baggy T-shirt, ragged tights, and wild, crinkly hair. “You protesting something too?” she asked.

Aurora smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m not protesting anything,” she said. “We were just waiting.”

“Waiting?” Bettina asked. “What for?”

Aurora didn’t answer, so Kate did it for her. “For the ghost. We were waiting for the ghost.”

“The ghost!” Bettina stared at Kate. “What ghost?”

Kate shrugged. “We don’t know what ghost for sure. But we’re pretty sure there is one.”

Bettina went over to a straw bale and sat down, tucking up her feet in their enormous army boots. For a minute she just sat there, rolling her dark eyes thoughtfully and now and then nodding her bald head. “Yeah,” she said softly after a while. “There is a ghost. Actually, there’s a very famous one. The famous Anderson barn ghost. Do you want to hear about it?”

“I
T’S A VERY SAD
story,” Bettina said. “A horrible tragedy, actually. Most ghost stories are like that. I mean, most ghosts come back because there was this terrible thing that happened to them when they were alive so they have to come back to, like, make it right.”

She stopped talking and looked from Kate to Aurora and back again. “Look,” she said, “don’t just stand there. Sit down and get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

Kate and Aurora sat down in the straw. “What was the tragedy?” Kate asked.

“Was it about a girl?” Aurora asked. “A girl who—”

“That’s it,” Bettina interrupted. “There was this girl, see—”

“An Anderson?” Kate asked. “Was she one of the Andersons?”

“That’s what I was about to tell you,” Bettina said impatiently. “She was an Anderson. Only she lived a long time ago. Like hundreds of years. I guess you know the Anderson family has lived here practically forever. And this girl was—she had … Yeah. She had this boyfriend.” Bettina nodded sharply and her eyes suddenly were more focused-looking. “Only her parents didn’t like her boyfriend because he was—”

“Was he a bandit?” Kate interrupted. “When we were studying California history we read about these bandits who used to ride around this part of the state and rob stagecoaches and ranchers. Was he a bandit?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Bettina said. “You guessed it. And this girl, this Anderson girl, whose name was …” Bettina stopped and thought for a moment. “Addie …,” she finally said. “Yeah, that’s it. Her name was Addie.”

“Addie?” Aurora said. “That’s Mrs. A.’s name.”

“Sure. But this wasn’t that Addie. Lots of Andersons are named Addie. Anyway, she used to sneak out to meet this boyfriend sometimes.”

“In the barn?” Kate asked. “Did she meet him here in the barn?”

Bettina nodded sharply. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Only one day her parents found out about the boyfriend and they told the sheriff. And …” Bettina paused and made her eyes get wide and scary-looking. “And they came and shot him. Right here in this barn.”

Kate and Aurora stared at Bettina and then at each other. Kate nodded slowly, biting her lip. “Where?” she asked. “I mean, where in the barn? Like, was it maybe in one of the stalls?” She gave Aurora a “this is important” kind of look. “Maybe in that big stall right near the ladder?”

Bettina nodded. “And then Addie came and found him there dead and—and—she died too. She died right there beside him.”

Kate looked at Bettina through narrowed eyes. “Of what? What did she die of? You don’t mean she died of a broken heart, do you?”

“What’s the matter?” Bettina asked. “You don’t believe people die of broken hearts? I believe it. I almost did once, myself. But maybe it was something more than that. Maybe she found her boyfriend’s gun—right there in his holster—and he was dead so she shot herself. Yeah, I think that was it. She shot herself.”

Bettina stared at Kate and Aurora and they stared back. “Wow,” Kate said. She looked at Aurora. “I guess that would explain it, all right. I mean about that stall.”

Aurora nodded. “Yes,” she said. “That would explain it.”

“Explain what?” Bettina asked sharply. “Did you see a ghost in that stall?”

Aurora shook her head uncertainly.

“No,” Kate said. “Not exactly.”

“Hmmm.” Bettina looked thoughtful. “Well, I guess that’s because the ghosts …” She paused. “Actually there are two ghosts. Addie and her boyfriend are both ghosts. Anyway, they only appear to certain people at certain times.”

“Like at night?” Kate asked.

“Yes, at night. On certain nights.” Bettina paused, biting her lip. “Like on—Halloween. Yeah, that’s it. They just come on Halloween.”

“Wow!” Kate said. “Halloween. That’s just a few days away.”

Aurora didn’t say anything.

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Zilpha Keatley Snyder (b. 1927) is the three-time Newbery Honor–winning author of classic children’s novels such as
The Egypt Game
,
The Headless Cupid
, and
The Witches of Worm
. Her adventure and fantasy stories are beloved by many generations.

Snyder was born in Lemoore, California, in 1927. Her father, William Keatley, worked for Shell Oil, but as a would-be rancher he and his family always lived on a small farm. Snyder’s parents were both storytellers, and their tales often kept their children entertained during quiet evenings at home.

Snyder began reading and telling stories of her own at an early age. By the time she was four years old she was able to read novels and newspapers intended for adults. When she wasn’t reading, she was making up and embellishing stories. When she was eight, Snyder decided that she would be a writer—a profession in which embellishment and imagination were accepted and rewarded.

Snyder’s adolescent years were made more difficult by her studious country upbringing and by the fact that she had been advanced a grade when she started school. As other girls were going to dances and discovering boys, Snyder retreated into books. The stories transported her from her small room to a larger, remarkable universe.

At Whittier College, Zilpha Keatley Snyder met her future husband, Larry Snyder. After graduation, she began teaching upper-level elementary classes. Snyder taught for nine years, including three years as a master teacher for the University of California, Berkeley. The classroom experience gave Snyder a fresh appreciation of the interests and capabilities of preteens.

As she continued her teaching career, Snyder gained more free time. She began writing at night, after teaching during the day; her husband helped by typing out her manuscripts. After finishing her first novel, she sent it to a publisher. It was accepted on her first try. That book,
Season of Ponies
, was published in 1964.

In 1967, her fourth novel,
The Egypt Game
, won the Newbery Honor for excellence in children’s literature. Snyder went on to win that honor two more times, for her novels
The Headless Cupid
and
The Witches of Worm. The Headless Cupid
introduced the Stanley family, a clan she revisited three more times over her career.

Snyder’s
The Changeling
(1970), in which two young girls invent a fantasy world dominated by trees, became the inspiration for her 1974 fantasy series, the Green Sky Trilogy. Snyder completed that series by writing a computer game sequel called Below the Root. The game went on to earn cult classic status.

Over the almost fifty years of her career, Snyder has written about topics as diverse as time-traveling ghosts, serenading gargoyles, and adoption at the turn of the twentieth century. Today, she lives with her husband in Mill Valley, California. When not writing, Snyder enjoys reading and traveling.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1995 by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Cover design by Barbara Brown

978-1-4804-7160-3