The Red Ghost (2 page)

Their black-and-white cat, Rocco, lay
asleep in his usual spot at the foot of Jenna’s bed. He was curled into a tight ball, his nose tucked beneath his tail.

“The package needs something,” Jenna said. “Ribbon, I think.”

Dallas nodded. “That would help,” she said. “It’s not exactly—”

But before Dallas could finish saying what the package wasn’t exactly, Rocco came to life. He woke as if he’d been poked with a sharp stick.

Ftt-t-t-t-t!

He jumped to his feet, spitting. The fur along his spine bristled. His tail puffed like a bottlebrush. And all this sudden fury was directed at the lumpy package!

“Hey!” Jenna said. “Take it easy, Rocco.”

But Rocco wasn’t going to take it easy. He danced over to the package on the tips of his toes and took a swipe at it. Then he leapt off the bed and streaked for the door.

Dallas opened the door just in time for Rocco to make his exit. He whizzed down the hall.

Quinn still stood on the other side.

“What’s wrong with Rocco?” she asked. But she wasn’t looking at Rocco. She was looking at the package on the bed.

“Don’t know,” Dallas replied. “You’d better go see.” She closed the door again.

Both girls stared at the package. An eye stared back at them from behind the slit Rocco’s claws had made in the paper.

“It looks like Rocco has it in for Miss Tate’s old doll,” Dallas said.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Jenna sat down next to the torn package. Her knees were suddenly wobbly.

What had gotten into Rocco? He was ordinarily a very gentle cat. She had never seen him attack anything fiercer than a buzzing fly.

The truth was, though, it wasn’t Rocco that was scaring her.

“W
ell have to get more tape.” Jenna said it calmly, as though having Rocco go crazy wasn’t the least bit strange. But her legs still felt weak.

Dallas poked at the long slit in the paper. “Either that or start over with new paper.”

“I’ll get tape,” Jenna said.

She didn’t know why exactly, but she didn’t want to unwrap the doll. She’d just
keep her covered until she gave her to Quinn.

When Jenna opened the door, Quinn no longer waited on the other side.

Jenna found tape and a bow, too, in the hall closet. When she got back to the room, Dallas stood frowning at the package.

“Anything wrong?” Jenna asked.

“Of course not,” Dallas snapped.

Jenna gave Dallas a long look. Why was she so cross?

Jenna looked down at the blue eye peering through the tear in the paper. The eye seemed to be accusing her of something. But what? She wasn’t doing anything bad to the doll. Just wrapping it. And it certainly wasn’t
her
fault that Rocco had gone crazy.

Quickly, Jenna stretched several layers of
tape over the slit. Then she put the red stick-on bow over that. The bow was left over from Christmas. It was red velvet like the doll’s dress.

“There,” she said.

Dallas had been watching without offering to help. “Now put it away,” she ordered.

“Why?” Jenna asked. She was beginning to feel a bit annoyed again. Dallas could be
so
bossy. “It’s all wrapped. Quinn won’t know what it is.”

“But Rocco will still hate it,” Dallas said. “Cats have some kind of extra sense, don’t you think? And who knows what he’ll do if he sees the package again?”

Jenna shrugged. “Okay.” She picked up the gift and tucked it under her bed.

“No!” Dallas practically shouted.

“No?” Jenna turned to stare at her.

“You don’t want that thing under your bed,” Dallas told her. “That’s not a good idea at all. Just think about it under your bed staring up at you. Right through the mattress. All night long!”

Jenna laughed. “This is a doll, Dallas. Remember?”

But Dallas wasn’t laughing. “You need to put it away. Really away. How about your closet?”

Jenna shrugged. “Okay,” she said. There was no point in arguing. When Dallas got an idea into her head, she didn’t let go of it easily. And Jenna wasn’t even going to ask what Dallas was thinking now.

Jenna put the package on the shelf in the back of her closet. She shut the door.

“Do you think it will stay there?” Dallas asked.

Jenna laughed again. “Do you think she’s going to get up and walk away?” She flopped down on her bed.

“Who knows?” Dallas said.

Jenna studied her friend’s face. Was she joking? But she looked completely serious. So Jenna just asked, “What do you want to do next?”

Dallas shrugged. “Let’s go back to my house.”

“Okay.” Jenna sat up. She still didn’t know what was going on. Dallas usually liked to play at Jenna’s house. She had two
little brothers at home who were always in the way.

But they had no more than started down the hall when Dallas stopped. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Dallas tipped her head. “That!” she repeated. “It’s like a … a voice from far away. Like someone calling.”

Jenna listened, too, but she heard nothing. She couldn’t even hear Quinn off complaining to their mother … which was what she was probably doing.

Jenna shook her head. “I don’t hear a thing,” she said.

“You’re sure?” Dallas asked.

“Positive.”

Dallas listened again, then gave a small shudder. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

Jenna followed Dallas. But she couldn’t help wondering. What could there possibly be to hear?

J
enna woke in the middle of the night. At least she thought it must be the middle of the night. Her room was completely dark. The house was silent. The only light she could see snuck through her window from the street-lamp on the corner.

The streetlamp didn’t really light her room. Mostly it just made shadows.

She lay still for a few moments. Why was
she awake? Why was her heart pounding? Maybe she’d had a bad dream. She couldn’t remember any dream, though.

But then she heard something. Was that what had wakened her? She held her breath. The sound was so faint it was almost like no sound at all.

What was it?

It sounded like paper rattling. Who could be rattling paper in her room in the middle of the night? Mice?

And then there was that other sound … very low, almost impossible to make out.

Was it someone crying?

She pushed her blanket aside and stood up. Was Quinn crying? That wasn’t very likely. Quinn rarely cried.

Besides, Quinn’s room was right next to hers. If she were crying, she wouldn’t sound so far away.

Still, Jenna decided to check.

She padded across her room and down the hall. She stopped in her sister’s open doorway.

Quinn’s room was closer to the front of the house, so the streetlamp shone brighter
here. Jenna could make out her little sister sprawled on her bed. She held her Raggedy Ann in the crook of her arm. Quinn loved that doll. She had hauled it around with her until it was flat.

Quinn’s breathing was steady and quiet. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t even whimpering. She was sleeping. That was all.

Jenna went back to her room. She paused just inside her door to listen again. She heard only silence. Absolute silence.

She climbed back into bed. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, rolled over, and closed her eyes.

She was just drifting toward sleep when she heard it again. A distinct rustle and a low sound like a sob.

Even as her arms pricked into goose bumps, Jenna figured it out. It was Rocco. Who else?

Their cat had gotten shut in her closet. That happened sometimes. He liked hidden places. Every time anyone opened a door, he scooted through to explore. And sometimes he got shut in … in closets, kitchen cup boards,
the laundry room. Once he even got shut inside the TV cabinet. He’d made a mess of the DVDs before Dad found him and let him out.

This time he must be in her closet!

Jenna pushed the blanket back again. She swung her feet out of the bed. But she stopped before she stood up. She just stopped and sat there, thinking.

The doll was in her closet, too. Miss Tate’s doll. The one she was going to give to Quinn. It was all wrapped up, taped up, even decorated with a red bow. But it was in there.

And suddenly Jenna didn’t want to open the closet door.

Not in the middle of the night with the streetlamp stretching shadows across her
room. Not with the sounds—the rustling, the crying—growing louder.

Rocco was in her closet. Those sounds were only her cat. She was certain of that.

But still …

Jenna lay back down. It wouldn’t hurt Rocco to wait until morning to get out. Maybe he’d learn to pay more attention if he had to wait. He shouldn’t crawl into places where he could get shut in, anyway.

Besides, the sounds had grown quieter now. So quiet she could hardly hear them. And then she couldn’t hear them at all.

Her room was just as silent as the rest of the house. It was silent with sleep. Rocco must have gone to sleep, too.

• • •

When she awoke the next morning, the first thing Jenna remembered was that Rocco was trapped in her closet. She sat up quickly and looked at the closet door. It was closed, as it had been last night. It was tightly closed, and all was quiet.

Then she drew in her breath. At the bottom of her bed lay Rocco, curled into a familiar black-and-white ball. He was sleeping peacefully. He was even snoring just a bit.

So what had she heard last night in her closet?

And what was it Dallas thought she had heard yesterday?

Jenna reached for her clothes. She had to go talk to Dallas!

D
allas looked up from her bowl of Cheerios. “Tell me again what it sounded like,” she said.

“I don’t know!” The truth was Jenna didn’t want to say it again. She knew what she had heard last night. Now, though, with the morning sun spilling across Dallas’s kitchen table, saying it sounded silly. So she said instead, “Tell me what you heard
yesterday … when we were leaving the house.”