A Gust of Ghosts (15 page)

“I'm sure you've heard of the Hitchhiking Prom Queen,” Chance said, making a graceful gesture in her direction. “Otherwise known as Miss Peggy Sue Perkins.”

Peggy Sue Perkins rested her cool green gaze on them for a moment and then said, “Why in the
world
did y'all come here in the heat of the day? Everyone knows you should visit a haunted graveyard at midnight.”

Will was gaping at her. Poppy nudged him, and his mouth shut with a snap.

“We're not allowed to go out that late on our own,” he managed to croak.

“And we had to ride our bikes here,” Franny added. “It's safer to do that during the day, especially when you've got a garden rake strapped to your handlebars—”

“Your
bikes?
” Peggy Sue flounced over to a bench and sat down, sulking. “Well, that's just absurd, that's what it is. It is simply capital
A absurd
. You don't even have a
car
for me to ride in!”

“We're sorry, we didn't mean …” Franny took a nervous step backward, tripped on a flat stone marker half hidden in the tall grass, and fell down. “Ow.”

“Now, Peggy, don't go scaring the children,” another voice said.

“Ah, and here is Buddy Owens, otherwise known as the Wailing Cowboy,” Chance said smoothly.

A young man with sandy hair and an easy grin shimmered into view next to a tall cottonwood tree. He wore a cowboy hat, boots, and jeans and was holding a guitar.

“Howdy,” he said. “It's mighty nice of y'all to come visit us. We've been pretty much on our lonesome here for a long, long time.”

Chance spread his hands wide. “And now you've met our little family. Welcome to our home.”

He smiled another flashing white smile. It made Poppy suspicious. It made her think that he wanted something....

She tilted her head and gave him an appraising look. “Why didn't we see you when we were here before?” she asked.

The ghosts exchanged shifty glances. Then Agnes said smoothly, “Well, we didn't know who you were or what you wanted, did we? You have to understand, we've had to put up with some very rude people in our time.”

“Especially the ones from those TV shows,” Bertha said. “They
say
they want to talk to us, but they don't, not really. They just want to annoy us until we let out a few bloodcurdling shrieks for their programs. No manners at all.”

“That's right,” Chance said. “So when we saw your parents setting up cameras, well … we decided to take a wait-and-see attitude, didn't we?”

He looked around at the other ghosts, who all nodded.

“Then we got lucky,” Buddy added. “You called to Travis, which meant he could pay you a little visit.”

“He told us how nice you all were,” Agnes said.

“And how interested you were in the spirit world,” Bertha added.

“And about the little fix you're in,” said Buddy.

“Yes,” Peggy Sue said. “With that Mr. Farley, who sounds just awful.”

“So we thought perhaps we could help each other,” Chance finished.

Poppy crossed her arms. “How?”

“Come with me,” Chance said. He drifted up a little rise of ground to where a small stand of oak trees stood, with Poppy, Will, Henry, and Franny dutifully following and the other ghosts trailing behind. “Look.”

They could see the whole cemetery. In the noonday sun, the wild thickets of bushes, broken branches, and weeds looked even worse.

“This isn't a bad spot to spend eternity,” said Chance. “Flowers, trees, a nice breeze most days.”

“It's been getting mighty lonely since that big road was put in, though,” added Buddy.

“Yes, it used to be so friendly and comfortable here,” sighed Agnes. “People used to come visit, they used to care about paying their respects. Families would bring picnics, church groups or the Rotary would come out to trim the grass or put flowers on the graves. It used to be such a treat, listening to what people were saying.”

“No one has time for that anymore.” Bertha shook her head mournfully. “It's this modern world. Everyone's in too much of a hurry.”

There was a slight pause. Poppy glanced at Will, Franny, and Henry, who were looking around the unkempt graveyard with solemn faces.

It did sound awfully lonely to be a ghost in the Shady Rest Cemetery....

Then her gaze moved on to the ghosts, who were exchanging shifty glances, barely suppressing little smiles, and generally giving the impression of being up to something.

Chance saw her looking at him. Immediately he became wistful.

“It wouldn't be so bad not having visitors, except that things have gone to ruin,” Chance said, with a slight vibrato of emotion in his voice. “If only someone would fix this place up....”

“Hey, we could do that!” Henry said. “Look, we have all the equipment right here.”

Peggy Sue widened her eyes. “Could you really?” she said. “That would be so sweet of you.”

“Wait a minute,” Franny said. “I didn't think we were really going to do work here.”

“I thought those rakes and things were just props,” said Will. “You know, to make our cover story more believable.”

Poppy bit her lip. The ghosts had looked so forlorn just a moment ago, and they looked so hopeful now....

“If you would just tidy up the place a bit,” Chance said, “we promise we will give you all the evidence you need. You can film us, tape us, take photos of us—we guarantee total access.”

“And exclusive rights to our images,” Peggy Sue added. “You'll be the only people we'll ever grant interviews to, we promise.”

It was exactly what Poppy had hoped for. In fact, the ghosts' proposal matched her secret daydreams so perfectly that she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Isn't this how all fairy tales start?
asked a small, sensible voice in the back of her head.
With a bargain that seems too good to be true?

But then the image of Mr. Farley flashed into her mind. She could almost hear him saying, in his thin, colorless way, “I suggest that you find something to show her by this time next week. Otherwise, I can't guarantee that your grant will be safe.”

She looked Chance square in the eye. “It's a deal,” she said.

T
he sun had already set when Poppy, Will, Henry, Franny, and Rolly arrived home. They had spent the rest of the afternoon working hard while Rolly played imaginary fetch and Tombstone Tag with Bingo. They had picked up broken branches, cut back overgrown bushes, and raked up twigs and leaves. By the time they finished, they were hot, sweaty, and tired, but satisfied with a job well done.

As they staggered across the lawn, they saw Mrs. Malone in the driveway, standing by the car.

“
There
you are,” she called as she lifted the equipment case into the trunk. “Your father and I were wondering when you'd get home.”

Franny ran up the porch steps, shouting back over her shoulder, “Dibs on the bathroom!”

“All right, dear, but don't take too long,” said Mrs. Malone. “Your father and I are going to drive to Bastrop with Mrs. Rivera, and we're putting you in charge while we're gone.”

“I'll just be a minute,” Franny called out as the door slammed shut behind her.

“More like an hour, but let's not be picky,” Will muttered. “What's in Bastrop?”

Mrs. Malone opened the cooler that was sitting in the backseat and began counting the soft drinks. “We're not sure. Mrs. Rivera was working on an ancient burial ground when she says she started to feel dizzy. According to her, that was followed by a violent wind that smelled of sulphur, then the ground opened up at her feet. We're heading out there now to investigate. Your father thinks that she may have stumbled upon a portal to another dimension, although it sounds more like an overactive imagination to me—”

“Uh-huh,” said Will. “Does this mean we have to make our own dinner?”

“You can order pizza, dear. I put some money on the kitchen counter,” said Mrs. Malone. “I know you're all very responsible, but I don't want you using the oven. Oh, and Henry is going to come over and stay with you. If we're not back by bedtime, just put him in the guest room, but remember to make up the bed with clean sheets from the hall closet—Rolly, where are you going?”

“I have to give Bingo some water,” said Rolly, following Bingo around the corner of the house. “He's thirsty.”

“Who in the world is Bingo?” asked Mrs. Malone, turning back to the cooler and frowning at its contents. “I wonder if eight sandwiches will be enough—”

“Bingo is my dog,” said Rolly in a tone that made it clear he thought his mother was being particularly dim.

“Oh, Rolly, you didn't!” said Mrs. Malone, straightening up and turning to frown at him. “I don't know what your father will say—”

“He probably won't even see him,” said Rolly, picking up a stick and disappearing around the corner of the house.

“He's just pretending he has a dog named Bingo,” Poppy said quickly. “You know, because Dad won't let him have a real dog. It's kind of like an invisible friend.”

Mrs. Malone's brow cleared. “Of course. Well, that's an extremely creative way to deal with frustration and disappointment, I must say—”

“Lucille!” Mr. Malone bounded down the porch steps. “Are you ready to go? We need to pick up Mirabella and get out to the burial ground before the light fades.”

“Yes, Emerson, I know.” Mrs. Malone slid into the car seat.

“Be good, kids,” Mr. Malone called as he backed out of the driveway. “Go to bed early! Don't open the door to any doppelgangers!”

“I can't believe we actually met ghosts in the graveyard.” Henry took a large, happy bite from a gooey pizza slice. “I can't believe that my aunt and your parents were actually right.”

Poppy neatly cut a bite of pizza with her knife and fork. “I guess it makes sense that ghosts exist,” she said. “Think about all the people who have said they've seen one.”

“I think you're all way too calm about this,” said Franny as she reached for another slice. “It's amazing that we got out of that place alive!”

Will rolled his eyes. “Don't be so dramatic. They weren't evil ghosts. They weren't even cranky. At the most, they were annoying. And they talked a lot.”

It was cozy sitting in the kitchen, Poppy decided, and nice to have Henry with them. Still, she couldn't help but notice how very dark the night looked through the kitchen windows. She stared at the panes of glass, which reflected the five of them sitting around the table. Rolly was methodically dismantling his pizza by pulling off every piece of pepperoni and feeding them to Bingo, who sat at his feet; Franny was piling uneaten crusts on the side of her plate; and Will was seeing how far he could make a strand of cheese stretch before it broke. Henry looked right at home, as if he'd been having dinner at their house for years....

Then she remembered Mr. Farley. The feeling of happiness vanished, and the pizza she had eaten seemed to turn into a heavy lump in her stomach.

Don't start feeling too much at home
, she reminded herself.
It will only make things worse when we have to move. Again
.

She turned back to the kitchen but, just as she did so, she saw a flicker out of the corner of her eye. Quickly, she looked back at the window. Was there something moving outside in the darkness?

Poppy forced herself to stare at the glass but saw nothing except their reflections floating against the dark night beyond the window.

We almost look like ghosts ourselves
....

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump from overhead.

Everyone stopped talking. Will even stopped chewing. Their eyes went to the ceiling.

For one long, breathless moment, nothing happened.

Then they heard the sound of slow, heavy footsteps walking down the second floor hallway.

“What was that?” Franny whispered.

“Nothing,” said Poppy. “Just the sound of the house settling.”

The footsteps walked back the other way.

“I think it's a person,” said Rolly. He sounded interested, but not scared. “Maybe it's a burglar.”

Poppy was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were alone in the house.

“Don't be silly,” she said. “How could a burglar get in without us seeing him?”

“Maybe he broke in before we got home,” Rolly said. “Maybe he's been hiding upstairs. Maybe he was just waiting until we were home alone before he came out. Now if we had a dog—”

Bingo cocked his head and gave Rolly a hurt look.

“Be quiet, can't you?” Franny said, forgetting to whisper. “Will, go upstairs and see what's making that noise.”