Kindred Spirits (9 page)

I focused on the pencil. Only the pencil.

My eyes crossed. The yellow blurred.

I tried to move the pencil.

A vein on the side of my head throbbed.

Nothing happened. The pencil stayed where it was.

I took a deep breath and tried again. Still nothing.

Maybe if I don't focus so hard,
I thought. I stared at the pencil and thought about seagulls, waffles, and rain. Anything but the pencil moving.

It still didn't go anywhere.

I tried for twenty minutes, then gave up.

Lily had been with me when all those strange things happened, I realized. All of them, except the skeletons, but that could have been an opening-day mechanical failure.

It would be so cool if it were Lily moving things with her mind. Best friends, both with powers. Should I text her? Call her? How would I go about asking her?

I had no idea.

I stared at the pencil again.

One more time, I decided. I'd try to move it myself one more time.

The whole next day I tried and tried. Pencils. A sneaker. My toothbrush. Even a cotton ball.

Nothing budged.

Perched on the high stool at the table in my crafts room that afternoon, I peered out the window. The sky was gray with misting rain. Fog blocked the view of the bay. Dad was at work. Lady Azura was with a client. Lily had gone with her family to visit a great-uncle.

The house was quiet.

I was arranging clamshells in a circle, overlapping one on the other to make a wreath, when I heard the first creak.

Creaks weren't a big deal. Our house always creaked. It was old. It had ghosts.

But the creaks grew louder.

They turned to scraping. And then to strange thumping.

I sat still and listened. The noises came from overhead. Something or someone was in the attic.

My fingers drummed the table as I watched the ceiling.
Boom. Thud.
What was going on up there?

Lady Azura couldn't help. She couldn't climb the stairs because of her bad hips.

I'd ignore it until Dad came home, I decided.

I busied myself arranging the wreath. A sudden sharp squeak of rusted hinges jolted my hand, knocking the shells out of place.

No way could I ignore it.

Slowly I made my way up the narrow staircase that led from the third floor into the attic. My heart fluttered as I reached the top stair. A tingling began in my left ankle.

It's probably just mice,
I told myself. Or maybe a trapped squirrel. I prayed that was all it was. Even so, I wished I'd brought one of Dad's golf clubs or even my hot-glue gun.

Taking a deep breath, I peered into the attic's large open space, ready to run. Ready to scream.

Instead I just shook my head.

The two elderly spirits were rummaging through boxes of Christmas ornaments. They'd opened cedar chests. They'd knocked over old, unwanted furniture.

Eleanor and Dwight. At it again.

I turned to go, then stopped in horror. Eleanor had rested her plump hands on a large, upright wardrobe trunk. Her shimmery fingers fumbled with the brass clasps. She was opening the trunk.

My mother's trunk.

The trunk filled with her beautiful dresses.

The trunk filled with her smell.

The trunk that contained my small connection to her.

“No way!” I cried. I ran at Eleanor, leaping over a stack of vinyl record albums. “That's mine!”

Eleanor's tiny buttonlike eyes widened. She backed away.

I stood protectively in front of the trunk. They'd gone too far this time. “This doesn't belong to you!” I cried.

Dwight glanced up, then returned to rummaging through a canvas bag of old beach toys.

“None of this belongs to you,” I said. “You can't
snoop through other people's stuff. What are you looking for?”

“We don't know. But we can't stop,” Eleanor said pitifully. She turned to rifle through a pile of books. “We know it's here. Or somewhere.”

“How will you know when you find it, if you don't know what you're looking for?” I was getting frustrated.

They both stopped. “We'll know. We will know because the anxiety will leave,” Dwight said.

“Anxiety?” I asked.

“We both feel it. Like when you misplace your keys. Or forget your friend's birthday,” Dwight explained. “We know what we're looking for, but we can't remember. We just know we need to find it.”

This was growing more confusing by the minute.

“So you lost something? Maybe a key? Or a wallet? Was it a card in a wallet? Is it a photo?” I ran through a list of possibilities.

Dwight shook his head after each. Eleanor wrung her hands together.

I kept tossing out things they could've lost. Dwight stood by an old suitcase covered with travel stickers. He ran his hand over each one in a daze. His narrow
shoulders slumped in distress. Eleanor wandered about. “Where? Where?” she muttered.

I tapped my foot restlessly. My eyes darted from a broken vacuum to a one-armed doll to the dusty stack of faded board games. I was overcome by a desire to open every box in the attic. I wanted to find it too. I didn't know what it was, but I wanted to find it to calm my now jittery nerves.

I bit my lip. The spirits' emotions were seeping into my body. I couldn't let that happen. Whenever it did, it caused trouble and I felt sick. I had to separate myself.

I bolted down the stairs, leaving Dwight still touching the travel stickers and Eleanor peering under a mousetrap. I ran all the way to the first floor.

I felt bad for Eleanor and Dwight. I finally understood their helplessness. Their yearning.

I pushed aside the purple curtain. The spicy scent of Lady Azura's cinnamon candles greeted me.

“The empress, the mighty one, has shown herself,” Lady Azura was saying. She bent forward in her armchair, peering at the tarot card lying faceup on the table. A woman in a flowered dress, with red hair
swooped into a bun, sat across from her.

They both stared at me.

“What is wrong?” Lady Azura asked, alarmed.

“Nothing, well, it's not an emergency,” I fumbled. I wished I had thought before I barged in. Lady Azura hated to have her clients interrupted. “Something happened upstairs.”

“Happened?” Lady Azura narrowed her eyes, trying to understand my meaning. “Did something
move
for you?”

“No. Not that. Eleanor and Dwight,” I said.

She sighed. “Everyone is safe? Everyone is where they should be?”

“Yes. I just wanted to talk to you about helping them.”

Lady Azura pursed her scarlet lips. “I am helping Ms. Moss now. There's lemonade in the fridge. We'll talk later, Sara.” That was my hint to leave.

I stepped back into the foyer.

Eleanor and Dwight waited for me. Dwight carried an old flight bag. The leather had cracked, and the airline logo was flaking off. He must've found it in the attic.

Their bewilderment and frustration continued to flow into me. The strain of it tightened the tendons of
my neck. They needed to be free of this burden they had carried with them into death.

I sat on the bottom stair. “She's busy,” I whispered. “She's always busy. I wish I could help.”

Then I wondered, could I? I had powers too.

Lady Azura always said that with training, my powers could be stronger than hers. I had been the one who found the Meyers' missing jewels. Lady Azura had kept my part out to protect me. To give me a normal life. To keep my secret.

But it was me.

If I'd helped them, why couldn't I help Dwight and Eleanor?

I listened to the low tones of Lady Azura's voice filtering through the curtain. Then I ushered Dwight and Eleanor onto the front porch.

For a moment I just stared at them. I had no idea what came next.

Okay, Sara, they're looking for something. You need to find what that something is,
I told myself. It was like being a detective. I'd seen enough crime shows on TV. A detective searches for clues and hidden information. I could do that too.

“Hold on to me,” I instructed Dwight and Eleanor.

I couldn't feel their hands as they gripped my arms. Closing my eyes, I tried to empty my mind. I needed to absorb more than just their emotions. I needed to absorb concrete thoughts. Secrets.

I concentrated.

Waited. Focused.

Then I heard a voice.

“Good afternoon, young lady.”

Something was happening! I kept my eyes closed.

“Excuse me. Care to take this?” The voice was gruff.

My eyes flew open as I startled backward. Our mailman in his blue postal uniform and dark sunglasses stood on our porch. He held a rolled-up magazine and some letters out to me. I was blocking the black metal box affixed to our house.

“Sure.” I watched Eleanor and Dwight wander off to inspect a wheelbarrow Dad had left in the yard. Dwight still carried the flight bag. I didn't know why he liked it so much. He wasn't going anywhere.

Our mailman moved on to the next house.

I needed to find a way to help Eleanor and Dwight move on too.

The milky-white gemstone caught the light from the window, shining like a full moon. I nestled the necklace in midnight-blue tissue paper, then covered the small box with silver star stickers. Lily would love my present when she opened it at the party tonight.

What would her wish be? I wondered.

If the moonstone was mine, I'd use it to give me courage. I was dying to find out what Lily could do and tell her what I could do. I'd almost called several times over the last two days. But fear kept me from dialing and kept that hard lump burning in my stomach. It was painful, but not as painful as losing Lily and all my friends. But if Lily's secret was the same as my secret . . .

“Sara? You up there? We're here!” Lily bellowed from the first floor. She had incredible lung power.
Buddy's barking carried up to my crafts room too.

Banging started from inside the closet. Henry had heard the barking. Why did Lily bring her dog? I wondered.

“Stop it,” I hissed to the closet door. There was no way I was opening it.

“Come on, Sara!” Avery called up. “It's party time!”

Henry pounded the door with his small fists. Over and over. He wanted out.

I felt badly, but it was Lily's birthday. Henry would just have to deal. I ran downstairs to meet my friends.

Stopping just before I reached the foyer, I gaped in horror. Eleanor's shimmery hands pulled at Avery's shirt, as if she were trying to undress her.

Avery squirmed uncomfortably. She itched her neck. She adjusted her shirt. Then she adjusted it again.

Lily followed my gaze. “Aves, you got bedbugs or something?”

“Ew, don't say that.” Avery scratched her collarbone. “It must be this shirt. It's new. Maybe there's something in the fabric.”

“It's pretty,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm.
I hurried down the last few steps. Avery's shirt was screen-printed with tiny airplanes in a rainbow of colors. I moved close to Eleanor. She was so busy running her ghostly fingers over Avery's shirt that she didn't see me.

It was bad enough to touch my stuff, but to touch my friends? No way.

I reached out as if to feel Avery's shirt and nudged Eleanor to the side. Eleanor seemed startled, as she stumbled away. “The fabric feels soft to me”—I made a point of actually touching the shirt—“but you can borrow one of mine.”

Avery squirmed a bit more, then stopped and straightened her shirt. “It's kind of okay now.”

Eleanor's arm reached toward her again. “Bob . . . Bob . . . Bob . . . ,” she muttered.

I wedged myself between the babbling ghost and my friend. “Let's go celebrate, Lily!” I said.

“Let's go!” Lily agreed. “Buddy's walking to the boardwalk with us. Mom and Dad are already at Uncle Lenny's, setting up.” That was the pizza place owned by her mom's brother. “My dad will take Buddy when we go to Midnight Manor.”

Buddy barked when he heard his name.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, suddenly aware of the faint banging coming from upstairs. Henry longed for Buddy.

“You said you'd help.” Eleanor's voice weighed low and heavy with sadness. Her arms fell limply to her sides. Even her helmet of white hair drooped, as if she were giving up.

I wanted to help them. But couldn't she see that I wasn't able to right now?

I followed Lily, Avery, and Buddy out the door and to the party, leaving Eleanor and Henry behind.

Lily was having a great time. We all were.

Uncle Lenny had decorated a large round table at the center of his restaurant. Tall with shiny black hair that swooped over his forehead, he presented pizza after pizza with a dramatic flourish. Each pizza had an
L
for Lily written on top—one with pepperoni, one with mushrooms, one with chicken. We sang “Happy Birthday” every time a new pizza arrived, which seemed to be every few minutes.

Miranda and Luke started a competition to see who
could eat the most red pepper flakes on their pizza without gagging. I was on Team Miranda.

My skin heated up as I watched her take a huge bite.

But the feverish feeling continued. Warmth pushed at my skin, crawling its way out from within my body.

I felt he was here even before I raised my eyes to the door. Mason met my gaze and held it for a half second. Did he feel it too? The heat, the static in the air, the connection?

He quickly looked away and loped over to Lily.

She beamed. “You came!”

“Happy birthday. Sorry I'm late.” He shrugged apologetically. “My mom had to go somewhere first.”

“Grab a chair,” Lily said. “Sit anywhere.”

Mason lifted a chair from a nearby table, scanned the twelve of us, then deliberately inserted himself between Avery and Luke. As far away from me as possible, I noticed. But why?