Home, Sweet Haunt (4 page)

“I don't have a choice,” Nora replied simply.

“Oh,” Caitlin said.

The conversation faded again before Caitlin asked, “Want to see who can swing highest?”

“Sure.” Nora used to be able to go the highest of her friends. Her ex-friends.

The girls took turns pumping their legs and soaring. Nora was higher than Caitlin when suddenly, at the top of the arc, Caitlin leaped off her seat. She made a perfect landing, arms raised, in the grass beyond the sandbox.

“Awesome!” Nora tried to do the same thing. Her landing wasn't nearly as smooth, and she tumbled, rolling on the soft lawn.

“Nice crash.” Caitlin laughed. She turned a couple cartwheels before executing a backflip. “I probably should have warned you that I take gymnastics.”

Nora stretched out on the grass and looked up at the sky. “I bet you're really good,” Nora said.

Flopping down next to Nora, Caitlin replied, “I practice a lot. I don't have many friends at school because I'm at the gym so much. I do tumbling and floor before school every day and vault and beam after.”

Nora had never been committed to just one thing. Before, when she was allowed to leave the apartment building, Nora had taken a few months of dance and several tennis lessons. She'd tried theater, yearbook, and soccer at school. There wasn't any activity she had liked enough to decide to dedicate her life to it.

“You should be in the Olympics!” she told Caitlin.

“That's my goal,” Caitlin said. “I really love gymnastics.”

Nora was impressed. Caitlin was following her dreams. Nora wondered what her own dreams were. She didn't really have any idea what she wanted to be when she grew up. She was already twelve years old. Almost a teenager.

When Nora got back to the apartment, she was going to start thinking about what she liked and what she wanted to do. She must be really good at
something
, but what?

“Come on. Let's go.” Caitlin popped up and raced to the slide.

The depressing image Nora had had of living friendless forever in the barbecue-smelling apartment with Lucas faded away, and a fresh surge of hope took its place.

“I'm in,” Nora said happily.

From the slides to the monkey bars, to somersaults on the lawn, then to the swings again, Caitlin was in constant motion. Nora followed her through the park, sweating and panting, and having a terrific time.

“I'm so glad we met,” Caitlin said as the two girls began to swing again.

“Me too,” Nora said. It was nearly three o'clock. She had to leave. Bummer. Nora wished they had more time to get to know each other better.

As if she'd read Nora's mind, Caitlin said, “Two of my friends from the gymnastics studio are coming for trick-or-treating tonight. Do you want to come with us?”

Nora glanced across the street to her apartment building, then let her eyes travel up to the top floor. She could see the shadow of her mother staring out through the glass.

“Come on, Nora. It'll be fun!” Caitlin said. She noticed where Nora was looking and asked, “Do you live in that building?” Caitlin pointed across the park.

“Yes,” Nora replied as her mother waved for her to come in.

“Fab-u-lous!” Caitlin cheered, leaping off the swing,
turning herself around in the air like a tornado before landing. “That's where I live too.”

“You do?” There weren't many other kids in the building, and Nora didn't know any of them. In fact, Nora didn't really know anyone who lived in her building except for Mrs. Daugherty, who had lived next door to the Wilsons for Nora's entire life. People were always moving in and out, and she was always over at Hallie and Lindsay's. It was so cool that someone her age had moved in!

“Second floor,” Caitlin replied. “So can you come? You already have an awesome pop-star costume.” She added, “I'm going to be a zombie.”

Slowing to a stop, Nora chose to step off the swing instead of jump. She was eager to talk to her parents about letting her do more stuff, but didn't think it would happen right away. Even before the fire, they were slow to change their minds after they'd made a decision.

It took two months and a really big pillow fight to get permission to go outside. Nora didn't have another two months to convince them to let her trick-or-treat with Caitlin and her friends.

“There's no way,” Nora groaned. “My parents like
me to stay close to home.”
Like, so close I don't leave the apartment.

“Your parents are superprotective, huh?” Caitlin asked.

“Yeah,” Nora replied.

“How 'bout this?” She had a suggestion. “Tell them that we won't leave the building. We can trick-or-treat at the neighbors' and then sleep over at my apartment. Do you like ghost stories?”

“Yes!” Nora said, nodding eagerly. “I love them.”

Caitlin glanced around, then whispered, “I hear our building is haunted.”

“Really?” Nora's eyes went wide. She'd never heard that! If she had, every year Nora would have insisted that she, Hallie, and Lindsay go trick-or-treating and sleep at her place instead of Hallie's. It was a well-known fact that ghosts come out on Halloween. Movie ghosts were not nearly as terrifying as real ones! Not even close.

“I really want to come,” Nora said, bouncing on her toes. She could see her mom waving both hands now at her through the window. Time was up.

“Ask your parents,” Caitlin said. “I'm in apartment 2H.”

“I'll try,” Nora said. She crossed her fingers that her parents would agree.

They left the park together and entered their apartment building.

Nora had walked down the stairs like her parents had told her to, but she didn't see anything wrong with taking the elevator back up. She wanted to stick with Caitlin as long as possible.

“I'm going to go get changed into my costume,” Caitlin said as the elevator door opened. “Don't get too scared when you see me!”

“I'll try not to freak out.” Nora giggled.

Caitlin got off the elevator at the second floor. Nora pushed the button for the tenth.

“Don't forget to say hi to the ghost as you go up,” Caitlin told Nora.

“Where does he live?” Nora asked.

“Ninth floor,” Caitlin said. “Beware of 9G!” She moaned like a ghost. “Oooooh. Oooooh.”

The sound echoed in the elevator shaft and followed Nora the rest of the way home.

“I made a new friend at the park. We're the same age and she's nice and she's a gymnast and she invited me—”

Nora's dad looked up from the book he was reading. He was sitting on the couch, wearing a red shirt the same color as the velvet. Nora hadn't seen him there when she first dashed through the door. Her whole speech had been directed at her mother, who was still by the window, looking down toward the street.

“You talked to someone?” Her father sounded interested.

“Yes,” Nora said. She started the whole explanation again. She'd said it all fast the first time, and was speaking even faster this round. “We're the same age and she's—”

“Got it.” Her dad scooted over to make room for Nora.

“Did you get the invitation part?” Nora asked, since that was where she'd stopped the first time through. She took the seat.

“Yes,” her father said, setting his book aside and giving Nora his full attention.

Nora's mother came over to the couch. There wasn't any other furniture in the room. The coffee table and the old rocking chair had both been destroyed in the fire. Since the Wilsons didn't have the money to replace anything, she sat on the floor near Nora's feet.

Nora began to stand, to trade places with her mom, but Mrs. Wilson motioned for her to sit back down.

“So can I?” Nora asked as she moved slightly to the left. An exposed spring was poking her in the thigh. “Can I go?”

“I saw Hallie and Lindsay come by the park,” Nora's mom said without answering.

Nora had forgotten her mom had been in the window the whole time she'd been away.

“Did you see what happened?” she asked. A rosy flush settled in Nora's cheeks. She was embarrassed by
how they'd treated her. And mad. Her cheeks felt warm and tight. Nora let out a big breath.

“No. Lucas needed help. I had to show him how to tie strong knots,” Mrs. Wilson said. “When I got back, I noticed that you were sitting alone on a swing.” She paused, then asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nora shook her head. “They weren't very happy to see me.”

“Okay.” Mrs. Wilson faced Nora's dad. “Maybe we should—”

“Let me go to the sleepover?” Nora finished her mother's sentence.

“Nora, don't interrupt,” her father scolded.

“I'm sorry,” she said, putting a hand on her own knee to keep it from bouncing. “I'm just superexcited about Caitlin's.”

“Hmmm.” Mr. Wilson gave his wife a long look. “It
is
Halloween.”

“I know! That's the reason for the . . .” Nora bit her tongue. She was interrupting again. “Sorry.”

“I've read that the veil is thinner,” Mrs. Wilson told Nora's dad.

Veil? Were they talking about weddings? Nora didn't
know and, having been busted twice for interrupting, decided not to ask. She needed to be on her best behavior if she wanted to convince them to let her go.

There was a look in her mother's eyes that Nora couldn't identify. She felt like she was eavesdropping on a private conversation.

“I didn't really believe it was possible,” Nora's dad said. “Using the stairs today was a precaution, just in case. But now it seems like maybe . . .”

“The facts are clear: Two were shocked. One has no clue.” Nora's mother ran a hand through her hair before stating, “I don't think this is a good idea, Frank.”

Nora didn't get the first part of the conversation, but the “not a good idea” part she got. When the conversation fell to a pause and Nora was certain she wasn't interrupting, she made her case.

“Caitlin lives in our building. On the second floor. Her friends from gymnastics are coming too. We'll stick together, and she promised we won't go outside.” Her words were tumbling out so fast Nora could barely keep up with herself. “I can't stay locked in this apartment forever.”

“We don't keep you inside to torture you, Nora.”
Nora's mother was defensive, and Nora wondered if she'd said the wrong thing.

“We have our reasons, Nora,” her father said. “Adult reasons that might be hard for you to understand.”

“Please,” Nora whined. She wanted to go to Caitlin's so, so, so badly.

“I still wonder if—” Nora's mother began, when Lucas clumped like Bigfoot into the room.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

How was it that if Lucas interrupted, no one said anything? Typical. Unfair.

“Nora's been invited to a friend's apartment for trick-or-treating and a sleepover tonight,” Nora's mother explained.

“A sleepover?” Lucas asked. He rotated on his heel to face Nora. “You can't go. I'm planning a big adventure.”

“I already told you. I'm not going on any adventures with you,” Nora grumbled.

While Nora's parents spoke in low voices, Lucas leaned in close to Nora and said, “I discovered the most incredible, amazing thing. You are going to
love
it.”

“No. I won't. I won't even
like
it,” Nora said. Then she had an idea. Lucas was the one who could convince
their parents of anything. He was the one who never got punished. “Hey,” she said, “if you help me get to the sleepover, I will . . .” She paused before going on. It was like swallowing nails. With a deep sigh, she said, “I'll hang out with you. Do whatever you want.” She quickly added, “Tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow's not Halloween.” Lucas pinched his lips as he considered her offer. “It's a Halloween type of adventure.”

“I want to go to Caitlin's tonight,” Nora said. “Whatever you've got planned can wait.”

Lucas continued to think about it. “Caitlin's, huh?” A glimmer came into his eyes that made Nora uneasy. He was up to something. “What apartment does she live in?”

She tried to ignore her suspicions. “2H.”

Lucas was thinking so hard, his lips were moving. Nora tried to read whatever was passing through his brain, but couldn't make out anything specific.

“Okay,” he said at last. “You've got a deal.” He stuck out his hand for a shake.

As she took his clammy hand in hers, Nora wasn't sure exactly what she'd agreed to.

Lucas gave Nora a wink, then interrupted their parents again, saying, “Mom. Dad.”

They both turned. Neither told him to wait. Or to go to his room.

“I think it's a great idea for Nora to go to Caitlin's tonight.” Lucas sounded older than eight as he explained. “Nora sits in the window every day, hoping her old friends will look up at her.” He was on a roll. Very serious, as if he were a professional therapist. “She has a classic case of Post-Traumatic Fire Disorder. PTFD.” If their parents knew Lucas had made up his diagnosis, they didn't comment. Instead they let him go on, without cracking a smile.