Party Summer (9 page)

T
he candles flickered out.

Can took off up the dune, followed by Eric and Craig.

The screams had stopped. The only sounds now were the thud of their sneakers over the sandy ground and the low wash of the bay behind them.

Be okay, Jan, Cari thought as she ran. Be okay. Please be okay. The words repeated over and over in her mind, taking on the rhythm of her legs as she ran.

Be okay.
Please
be okay.

I'll never forget those screams, she realized.

They repeated again and again in her ears, each time bringing a new stab of terror.

Please be okay.

Now the three of them were running past the pool house, past the dark rectangle of the swimming pool, across the terrace toward the back of the
darkened hotel. Cari glanced behind her. Simon was struggling up the dune, several hundred yards away.

Cari was only a few yards from the back entrance when she saw the dark figure run out of the hotel, heading right toward her.

She opened her mouth to scream but stopped herself when she realized the dark figure was Jan.

“Jan!” She ran up to her friend and threw her arms around Jan's shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I… I saw her!” Jan stammered, seemingly dazed.

“What happened?” both Eric and Craig cried, breathing heavily.

“What's the disturbance here?” Martin called, suddenly appearing from out of the darkness, sounding more irritated than concerned.

“I saw her,” Jan repeated.

Cari took a step back. She and the two boys had formed a protective circle around Jan.

“What happened?” Simon called, scurrying across the terrace, his suit jacket flapping behind him as he ran. Martin hurried over to him.

“I… I saw the ghost!” Jan declared.

Eric groaned. “I don't believe this,” he muttered.

“It was really there. I saw her,” Jan insisted, her voice high with excitement. She tugged at the sides of her hair with both hands.

“Those screams …” Simon said, holding a hand over his heart.

“I'm sorry,” Jan said. “I couldn't help it.”

“I think we should all go inside,” Martin said
impatiently. He took Simon by the elbow and led him to the door.

Cari and the others followed. A minute later they were all gathered in the lobby. Jan, tense and seemingly disoriented, took a seat on one of the big leather couches. Simon, still trying to catch his breath, sat beside her.

“It was down that hall,” Jan said, pointing to the corridor that stretched to the left of the front desk. “That's where I saw the ghost. She seemed to come right through the wall.”

“Hey, I thought that was
apple juice
we were drinking!” Eric cracked, expecting a big laugh. But no one even chuckled. Everyone was too interested in Jan's story.

“What did she look like?” Martin asked.

His voice startled Cari. She hadn't realized he was standing right beside her.

Tugging at a strand of her hair, Jan stared at the wall straight ahead of her, as if trying to picture the ghost. “She was kind of old-fashioned looking,” she said thoughtfully. “Dressed all in white. Maybe it was a nightgown. Her hair was in a long braid that fell down her back. She was young, kind of pretty, I guess.”

Jan shifted uncomfortably on the couch, still staring straight ahead at the wall. “It's her eyes that I remember most,” she said. “Her face was pale. White as chalk. White as … death. But she had these eyes. They were big and black. They looked like lumps of coal. Like snowman eyes.”

She started to say more, but her voice caught in
her throat. “Try to calm down a bit,” Simon said softly, gently patting the back of Jan's hand. “Martin, why don't you go make her a cup of hot tea?”

“Very well,” Martin said. But he made no attempt to move.

“She just stared at me with those coal black eyes,” Jan continued. “They were so cold, so … mean. I think she was trying to frighten me. Everything was suddenly ice-cold. The room. The air. She kept staring at me. Lumps of coal on that dead white face. I screamed, and she vanished back into the wall. Just disappeared. Then I guess I screamed again.”

Jan sat silently, twisting the strand of hair, staring at the wall.

Eric and Craig exchanged glances. Cari wondered what they were thinking. And she wondered what
she
was thinking! Someone—or something—had terrified Jan. Could it
really
have been a ghost?

“Are you okay now?” Cari asked Jan.

Jan didn't seem to hear her. She was far away, lost in her thoughts.

“These old inns contain many mysteries,” Simon said, staring over at Martin meaningfully.

“She'll be back,” Jan whispered. “The ghost will be back. I can feel it.”

Cari couldn't sleep.

She propped the soft, goose-down pillow behind her and lay staring up at the shadows playing across the ceiling of her room. Outside, the black sky was clear and starry, and a soft white full moon appeared over the bay.

She found herself thinking about Lauren for some reason, wondering what Lauren had done that day. Probably hung around the backyard. Complained about having nothing to do. Or maybe played with the little girl who had moved in down the block, across the street from the old Fear mansion.

Why on earth am I thinking about Lauren? Can asked herself. She realized she must be homesick.

She forced Lauren out of her mind and decided to think about Eric.

Eric?

He was so cute. She didn't even mind the diamond stud in his ear, which at first she had thought was a silly affectation.

And he seemed to be thinking about her too. She could tell. The way he kept looking at her during the long dinner. The way he kept smiling at her. That cute smile that made the dimple appear in one cheek.

Lauren? Eric?

Her mind certainly was skipping around tonight!

I'm just trying to avoid thinking about Jan and the ghost, she told herself.

She shivered. A ghost. Jan actually saw a ghost. It's here. It could be in this room right now, ready to pop out of the wall and stare at me with coal lump eyes.

I'll never get to sleep, she thought.

She sat up and put her feet down on the floor. The moon seemed to be hanging right outside her window. Its silver light formed a large rectangle across the carpet.

She stood up and, stepping into the light, walked over to the closet and found her robe. I'm going down to the kitchen to get something to drink, she decided.

She pulled her door open and stepped into the narrow hallway. It smelled of carpet cleaner and disinfectant. Dim night lights along the floor molding provided the only light.

Tying the belt around her robe, Can began walking quietly down the long hallway. Her rubber thongs made no sound on the carpet. The doors on both sides of the hall were closed as always.

She turned a corner and headed down another corridor, identical in its smell, in its darkness, in its silence.

So quiet. Like walking in a dream.

And then a sudden sound.

She stopped. And held her breath.

It was just the floor creaking. It had to be the floor creaking.

Another loud creak, followed by a rattle.

The rattle of a chain?

No. That's silly, she told herself.

The rattling sound grew louder, nearer. Then stopped.

Another creak. And then a groan.

So soft. Almost like a human groan.

Strange, soft music seemed to float down the hall. Violins. Playing the same note.

And then she heard the whisper.

“Cari.”

The whispered sound of her name.

No. I'm imagining it. It's just a breeze. Just a draft. It isn't a whisper. It isn't my name.

No.

The violins continued their sustained note, so softly she could barely hear it.

“Carrrrrrrrrri.”

It was whispering to her.

An invisible voice—a girl's voice—so close—right behind her—was whispering. Calling her name.

“No!” she shouted, not even realizing she had made the sound.

And now she was running down the corridor, stumbling in the awkward thongs, bursting around a corner, and down another dark hallway, doors closed on both sides.

“Carrrrrrri.”

“No!”

She turned another corner, not seeing, not thinking, not even realizing that the terror was pushing her forward.

She knew only that she had to get away from the whisper, the ghostly whisper calling her name.

“Carrrrrri.”

She ran to the end of the corridor, the hard soles of the thongs slapping against the flat carpet. Past a door marked Fire Escap—the final
e
having somehow escaped.

And then stopped when she heard voices.

Loud voices. Human voices.

Gulping air, struggling to stop the heaving of her chest, she didn't recognize the corridor she was in
at first. The voices were coming from a room without a number.

A thin crack of light bled under the closed doorway. Voices were shouting on the other side.

The ghostly whisper had stopped.

She moved close and listened at the door.

It was Simon. She recognized his voice immediately. He seemed to be arguing with someone, heatedly, passionately.

She must be outside Simon's room, she realized.

Yes. It made sense. It was the first room on the corridor. Beside it stood the wide staircase that led down to the main lobby and the hotel office.

“Listen to me,” Simon was shouting inside the room. “Listen to me!”

“No, I won't!” a voice replied, just as loudly, just as angrily.

A woman's voice!

Cari's mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Please, Simon, I'm begging you!” she heard the woman cry. “Please—no party! No party! Please!”