The Blue Girl (7 page)

You’ve got to admit that’s a pretty astute summing-up for a supposedly dumb jock. But Ben’s always like that. He doesn’t ever seem to have much to say, but when he does, it’s worth a listen. So I was interested in what he knew about Ghost.

“So what’d Ben say about Ghost?” I asked Jared.

He shrugged. “Just that he was this kid who got a really rough time from pretty much everybody at the school. He either jumped or fell off the roof way back in 1998.”

That was pretty much what Maxine had told me. “What does Ben think really happened?” I asked.

“It happened before he started here, so he didn’t know the kid.”

Jared was cutting up vegetables for the salad we were making. I was in charge of the paella and the dressing for the salad. When he fell silent, I glanced over to see him looking out the kitchen window, but I didn’t think he was taking in the view of the alley that ran behind our building.

“It must’ve been tough on that kid,” he said finally. “Being ragged that badly”

“And it hasn’t stopped for lots of us.”

He glanced at me. “Is Brent still on your case?”

I shook my head. “Only if I happen to run into him, but I’ve been getting pretty good at avoiding all of his crowd.”

“That sucks. Having to tiptoe around people like that. Maybe I should go have a talk with them.”

I shook my head again. We had an agreement: out of the house, we each dealt with our own troubles. We couldn’t interfere unless we were specifically asked. He’d had a “talk” with some bullies back at our old school—this was before I hooked up with Frankie Lee’s crowd and people knew better than to mess with me—and while it had stopped the bullying for that day, a bunch of them got hold of Jared after school and beat him up really badly. They wouldn’t have done that to me—it’s one of the benefits of being a girl. So long as your bullies aren’t other girls, of course, but that’s a whole other story.

Anyway, to keep it short—or at least shortish—that’s when I made him promise not to get involved in my problems unless I specifically asked him to.

“I can deal with it,” I told him.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to.”

“Well, I could always call in some of my old crowd from Tyson to put them in their place.”

Jared got a worried look, not realizing I was joking. But if I were really going to do that, he would have had a reason to be worried. Frankie’s crowd was a rough bunch. I’d been younger than all of them—kind of their mascot is the way Frankie put it—but that didn’t mean they’d let anyone mess with me. With those guys you were either in the gang, or you were against them. If you were in, they’d literally defend you to the death.

“You’re not really thinking of—”Jared began.

I didn’t let him finish. “I was joking.”

“Good.”

“Not that Brent doesn’t deserve being taken down a notch or two.”

“Yeah, but   ...”

“I know. Frankie’s idea of a warning is to put you in the hospital.”

“I don’t understand what you ever saw in those guys,” Jared said.

“They treated me like a person.”

He started to say something, then shook his head.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll give them that much. They were bad news, but they never walked all over anybody just because that person was weaker than them.”

*    *    *

When I finally spotted Ghost again, he saw my gaze find him, and this time he made no pretense at being normal. He was standing by a door. Turning toward it, he simply stepped right through and disappeared.

Not this time, I thought.

I hurried over and saw that it was one of the custodian’s storerooms. I gave a quick look around, but no one was paying any particular attention to me, so I tried the knob. When it turned, I opened the door and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.

It was impossible to see anything in the dark.

“I know you’re in here,” I said, “so you might as well stop hiding.”

I knew no such thing, of course. I’d only seen him come in. If he could walk through solid objects, he could have walked right out the other end of the storeroom and be anywhere by now.

“This is just stupid,” I went on. “Why are you spying on me? What do you want from me?”

Nothing.

“Well, I’m not impressed. I thought it might be interesting to talk to a dead person, but this is about as interesting as watching paint dry. I guess I’ll just—”

I didn’t get to finish.

The door opened behind me and I went sprawling backward, landing hard on the marble floor, my textbooks flying. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

“See?” I heard Jerry Fielder say. “I told you I saw her go in there.”

I looked up to see the crowd I was usually trying to avoid standing around me. Jerry and Brent and some other guys from the team. Valerie and a coterie of her followers.

Brent stepped past me and looked into the storeroom.

By the light cast from the hallway, it was easy to see that there was no one in there. There were just shelves of cleaning supplies, buckets, mops, brooms—pretty much what you’d expect for a custodian’s storeroom.

I sat up and started gathering my books.

“So what were you doing in there, Yuck?” Brent asked.

“Talking to herself,” Jerry said.

“Jeez, what’s a girl have to do to get a little privacy around here?” I said, standing up.

I was trying to play it cool, but I had about as much chance of pulling that off as becoming a supermodel.

“Maybe she was practicing how to dance with a broom,” someone said.

Brent grinned. “Hell, maybe she was
riding
the broom. Did it feel good, Yuck?”

“Oh, for god’s sake—” I started.

Brent knocked my books out of my hands.

“Keep your smart mouth shut,” he told me. “Remember: better seen than heard.”

I started to collect my books, but one of the guys kicked them further down the hall.

“And better not seen, either,” Brent went on.

Then, laughing, he headed off, the others behind him.

I sighed and collected my books. This was so humiliating. I don’t mind people thinking I’m weird. I’d just rather be the one to decide when I’m being weird.

*    *    *

Jared came up behind Maxine and me as we were heading home after school.

“So now you’re talking to yourself in broom closets?” Jared asked when he fell in step beside me.

Redding High was a big school, but it never ceased to amaze me how quickly the gossip got around. I’d seen
those
looks all day—you know, amused at what had happened to me, glad they weren’t at the center of it. I couldn’t get away from it. Maxine had already heard when she joined me at my locker before we left for home. I guess the student body must really have had nothing much going on in their own lives if the graceless doings of a nobody like me could make the rounds so quickly.

“I wasn’t talking to myself,” I told Jared.

“I heard there was no one in there.”

“There wasn’t. I mean, there was, but he vanished.”

Jared gave me a worried look. “What do you mean, ‘he vanished’?”

“I was chasing Ghost,” I said. “Trying to find out why he’s always spying on me.”

“Oh, Imogene,” Maxine said. “Do you think you should?”

And Jared added, “I can’t believe you think he’s for real.” I shrugged. “I’ve seen him. Or at least I see someone spying on me, someone who’s very good at pulling the vanishing act and fits the description of the late, unlamented Ghost. And today I saw him walk right through a closed door—without having to stop to open it,” I added, directing the last comment at Jared.

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”

“So this is like one of those tall tales like Little Bob used to tell back home?”

“I suppose. Except this time
I’ve
seen the unnatural goings-on.”

“Really.”

“Will you stop saying ‘really,’ ” I told him.

“I’m just trying to—”

“Oh, crap,” I said, spotting a familiar figure coming around the block up ahead. “Keep walking, Maxine, and don’t look back. You don’t know us. You’re not with us.”

“But—”

“Just
do
it.”

And then she saw what I’d seen: her mother. And here was I, gloriously decked out in plaid skirt, combat boots, and a raggedy sweater—all visible because I hadn’t closed my calf-length army jacket. But I only had about ten barrettes in my hair. Yeah, like that would make a difference.

Luckily, I don’t think her mother had seen Maxine with us, and Maxine walked briskly toward her, leaving us well behind because I’d stooped to retie a shoelace that hadn’t needed it.

When I stood up, I linked my arm in Jared’s and turned him around so that we were going the other way.

“What’s going on?” he asked, though he did let me lead him away.

“I spotted Maxine’s mom coming around the corner.”

“Oh. Do you think she saw you?”

He knew the whole story of how I was working on letting Maxine have another life than just the one her mother had planned out for her.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told him. “I’m sure I was too far away for her to make out my features, and it’s not like these clothes are the kind she’d expect to see me in.”

“Good save,” he said.

“I hope so.”

When I called Maxine later, she assured me that we’d gotten away with it.

“What was she doing there?” I asked.

“She thought I might be studying at the school library, so she was coming to get me. She’d forgotten to tell me this morning that we were having dinner at my grandparents’ house.”

“How was that?”

“Like it always is. My mom and Grandma staring daggers at each other while talking like they’re not just family but best friends. Grandpa and I pretending not to notice the tension.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“I guess. But I like seeing my grandparents, and at least nobody was yelling or anything.” Before I could think of something to say to that, she added, “You’ve got to stop chasing after Ghost.”

“Why?”

“Well, look what happened to you today.”

“That wasn’t Ghost’s fault. At least not directly.”

“No, but it’s just ... weird.”

“I’m weird.”

“No kidding. I guess it’s like a dog chasing a car.”

“What breed do you see me as?”

“The question you have to ask yourself,” she said as she continued to ignore me, “is, once you catch the car, what do you do with it?”

“Good point. And it’d probably be enough to stop me, except I’ve been cursed with an insatiable curiosity.”

“Which killed the cat.”

I laughed. “You have to make up your mind. Am I a dog or a cat in this analogy of yours?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Don’t obsess.”

“Exactly.”

“So can you get out tomorrow night?”

“What’s happening tomorrow night?”

“Curb crawling in the Beaches.”

Maxine had told us about the area a few weeks back, and it turned out to be prime real estate for what Jared and I did. Big houses, old money, and lots of turnaround on furniture and other neat stuff. Last week we’d scored a small oak desk that we sold for seventy-five dollars to one of the antique shops in the Market. I saw it in their window for twice the price the next day, but I didn’t care. It’s not like it cost us anything.

“I don’t know  ...” Maxine said.

She’d yet to come out with us. I don’t know if it was that she didn’t trust the old junker of Mom’s that we used on our rounds, or if she was too afraid her mom would find out. Probably both.

“That’s okay,” I told her, not wanting to put her on the spot. “Just so long as you’ll help us bring the stuff to the stores later.”

That, she didn’t mind doing. I gave her a cut out of my half of the profits, which every week she tried to give back to me, but eventually accepted. I mean, how could she resist money that didn’t need to be accounted for to her mother? And I had to make sure she had some cash for when we made the rounds of thrift stores.

Oh, I’m a wicked little thing, but it was doing wonders for her self-esteem, having stuff she picked out on her own. She kept most of it at my place, but some went into her locker at school. She didn’t go for anything drastic—once she’d changed in the girls’ washroom in the morning, you’d see her in jeans more often than not. And they looked good on her, too.

“So tell me,” she said. “Did you really know a guy named Little Bob back at your old school?”

I laughed. “Oh, sure. Little Bob MacElwee. As opposed to his brother, Big Bob. And then there was his sister, Bertie—short for Roberta.”

“That’s just weird. Why would their parents name them all pretty much the same?”

“Beats me.”

“Considering their surname, I’m surprised Little Bob didn’t up being called Wee Bob.”

“They couldn’t. That’s his dad’s name.”

“Now I know you’re having me on.”

“I swear it’s true.”

“If you say so.” She paused a moment, then asked, “And he told stories about ghosts?”

“He had stories about every damn thing you could imagine living back in those hills. Ghosts were the smallest part of it. According to him there were talking frogs, girls that could change into crows, rains of snails and tadpoles, headless turkeys, a black panther that you were supposed to treat as royalty, fairies made of roots and vines  ...  you name it.”

“Were any of them true?”

I had to laugh. “What do you think?”

“Of course, it’s just ... it’d be cool.”

“I suppose. But come on. Think about it for a moment.”

“We’ve both seen a ghost,” she said. “You more often than me.”

That stopped me—but only for a moment.

“Well, all I can say, Maxine, is that just because one weird thing turns out to be true, doesn’t mean every weird thing is.”

“But it’d be cool.”

“So would winning the lottery,” I said, “and what are the chances of that ever happening?”

“You don’t even buy tickets.”

“But even if I did  ...”

And on we went.