Haunted Tales (8 page)

“We’re going to look at some books over there,” Maggie said
to her mother once they arrived at the library.

“Okay,” Kate said. “But we can’t be very long today. I have
a lot to do.”

“We’ll hurry, Mom,” Maggie said, grabbing Clarissa’s hand.
“We promise.”

They wound their way around the tall stacks of books to the
far corner and then hurried to the desk.
 

Clarissa looked down the dark aisle. “The books aren’t
moving,” she whispered. “Is he gone today?”

Maggie shook her head. “He’s not by the books. He’s by the
window today,” she said. “He’s just looking outside.”

Clarissa turned her head so she could look sideways towards
the window. She focused for a few moments and then sighed. “All I see is
blur
,” she said. “I’ve been practicing all day and all last
night, and all I see is
blur
.”

“I don’t know what else to try,” Maggie confessed.

“When Mary touches my dad, he can see ghosts like she does,”
Clarissa suggested.

Maggie reached over and held Clarissa’s hand, and suddenly
Clarissa saw the tall man standing next to the window, gazing outside with his
hands clasped behind his back. The girls stood together, silently watching him
for a few moments.
 
He looked so
thoughtful. Clarissa tugged on Maggie’s hand. “Maybe we should go,” she
whispered. “He looks sad.”

Maggie was just about to answer when he turned his head and
saw them.
 
His long, wrinkled face seemed
to light up, and he smiled down at them.

He turned to Maggie. “Hello, Miss Maggie,” he said, offering
her a proper bow. “How are you this afternoon?”

Maggie grinned up at him. “I am fine, sir,” she replied.
“Thank you very much.
 
This is my friend
Clarissa.”

He bowed to her, too. “Hello, Miss Clarissa,” he said. “What
kind of books do you like to read?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I like all kinds,” she said. “I used to
like only the books with pictures, but now I like the ones with lots of words,
too.
Middle graders.”

“Middle graders?” the man asked. “I don’t know what those
are.”

“Oh, they’re books for kids in the middle grades, like third
and fourth grade,” she explained. “That’s why I like them.”

She studied him for a moment.
 
He looked a little familiar, like she’d seen
him before. “Do you live in Freeport?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, but I come to visit quite often,” he
said. “Why?”

“You look like I know you,” she replied.

Smiling, he nodded. “I’ve been told that before,” he said.
“I must have one of those faces that people find familiar.”

“Are there those kinds of faces?” she asked.

He shrugged. “There must be, because I have one,” he replied
with a grin.

She laughed softly. “What kinds of stories do you like?” she
asked.

“Oh, I like many stories,” he said. “But my favorites, when
I was your age, were Aesop’s Fables.”

Maggie crinkled up her nose in confusion. “What are those?”
she asked.

“They are wonderful stories that teach lessons,” he said.
“The most well-known was about a race between a tortoise and a hare.”

“Oh, I know that one,” Clarissa replied with an excited
smile. “I just didn’t know it was a… a sop fable.”

Aesop’s Fable,” the man replied gently.

“I’d like to hear you tell us one,” Maggie said. “But we
don’t have much time. My mom has a lot to do today.”

He nodded. “Leave nothing for tomorrow which can be done
today,” he said. “You never know what the future will bring.”

“What does that mean?” Clarissa asked.

He stepped away from the window and pulled out two of the
chairs at the desk.
 
“Would you join me
for a few moments?” he asked.

Clarissa slipped up onto the chair, and Maggie climbed onto
the other. As soon as Clarissa let go of Maggie’s hand, she realized the ghost
disappeared, so she quickly reached over and took Maggie’s’ hand once again.
Once the girls were situated, he sat across from them. “So, you want me to
explain my wise words?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Clarissa nodded. “Yes sir,” she said.
“If
you don’t mind.”

“Well, leave nothing for tomorrow which can be done today
means that you should not put off your responsibilities, but do them right
away,” he explained.

Clarissa sighed. “I thought you might have meant something
like that,” she said. “That’s something grownups always say.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, perhaps we say it because we have
put things off ourselves and then regretted it later.”

“I can’t wait until I become an adult and then I can tell
kids what to do,” Maggie said. “My mom tells us what to do all the time.”

“The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at
a time,” he said.

“You talk funny,” Clarissa said.

He laughed out loud and nodded. “Yes, I do believe I do,” he
agreed, and then he leaned forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”

They nodded eagerly.

“When I was a little boy, I had a terrible stutter when I
spoke,” he said. “It took me a long time to learn how to speak properly.”

Clapping her hands over her mouth, Clarissa was immediately
contrite. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said and then quickly grabbed her friend’s
hand so the ghost would reappear. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

He smiled at her and shook his head. “But, you didn’t,” he
said. “And neither has anyone else who criticized my speech throughout my
life.”
 
He winked at her. “Because I knew
my secret, and they didn’t.”

“Thank you for sharing your secret with us,” Clarissa said.

He nodded. “Well, of course, secrets are not much fun unless
they’re shared.”

Maggie’s eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. “That’s what
I think,” she said. “What good’s a secret if you can’t tell someone?”

He chuckled. “Well, you just have to be sure to share them
with the right people,” he warned.

“Are you the right people?” Clarissa asked.

“I believe you can trust me with your secrets,” he replied.
“And I am all ears.”

Clarissa looked at the side of his face and nodded. “They
are pretty big,” she acknowledged.

He chuckled again. “Yes, I’ve been told that, too,” he
replied.

“Maggie is trying to help me see ghosts,” Clarissa said.

He sat back in his chair and ran his hand over his beard.
“You don’t say,” he said. “Doesn’t that frighten you?
 
Most children are afraid of death.”

“My real mommy was a ghost,” Clarissa explained.
 
“And now she’s an angel.”

The man nodded and reached across the desk to enfold the
child’s hand. It felt like a cold puff of air around her hand. “I understand
the pain of losing your mother when you are a child,” he said. “All that I was,
or hoped to be, I owe to my angel mother.”

“I like you,” Clarissa said. “You’re not scary at all.”

He stood and bowed to her. “I like you, too,” he said. “I
hope we have the opportunity to meet again.”

“Maggie, Clarissa, where are you?” Kate’s whispered voice
came from around the corner of the book shelf.

Clarissa turned and looked behind her. “It’s your mom,” she
whispered to Maggie. “Can she see…
”

She turned back, but the man was gone.
 

“He does that,” Maggie whispered. “I don’t think he likes
big people.”

“I liked him,” Clarissa said, getting out of the chair and
walking toward the book shelf. “I can’t believe he’s a ghost. He’s so nice.”

Maggie nodded, walking alongside her friend. “Lots of ghosts
are nice,” she said, “but people are usually too scared to find out.”

“Thanks for letting me meet your friend,” Clarissa said.
“But I don’t know if he’s scary enough to be my Halloween story.”

Mary absently picked up a few more kernels of buttered
popcorn as she clicked on the screen with her mouse.
 
She had been accessing vital records from Ogle
County and wasn’t getting anywhere. Her next stop was the newspaper archives,
and she hoped they had them online.
 
As
she clicked on the next record, she put the popcorn in her mouth and reached
for another few kernels.

“Do you really think you should be eating that?”

Dropping the popcorn back into the bowl, Mary quickly turned
to see that Kristen had reappeared in her office. “I beg your pardon?” she
asked the ghost.

Kristen moved closer to the desk. “I really hate to be
rude,” she began, taking a moment to pointedly look at Mary’s stomach. “But,
really, you don’t need popcorn.”

Taking a deep breath, Mary decided her best option would be
to not react to Kristen’s comment. “Welcome back,” she said. “I’m glad the
information on your former fiancé didn’t keep you away.”

Shrugging, Kristen glided across the room and looked over
Mary’s shoulder at her computer screen. “Oh, well, after seeing his new look, I
figured I really dodged a bullet on that one,” she replied. “But that doesn’t
mean I don’t want to find the guy who killed me. I mean, I was a fourth grade
teacher. Who kills a fourth grade teacher?”

“I was just looking over some records, and even though there
are a lot of accidental deaths, I really don’t see anything that seems to be
related to your murder,” Mary explained.

 
“You’re really
nothing like the Rockford files are you?” Kristen asked. “I mean, a fat private
investigator who sits in her office and eats popcorn all day is really not
exciting television, is it?”

“However, a rude, self-centered ghost might become a movie
of the week,” Mary muttered.

“Excuse me?” Kristen asked. “Are you criticizing the dead
girl?”

Mary took a deep breath. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ve had just
about enough of you,” Mary said, letting her pregnant hormones take over. “You
were killed over forty years ago. And now that I’ve gotten to know you a
little, maybe I can see why. Although, I’m really surprised anyone thought it
was an accident. I’m sure you had plenty of people out for your blood.”

“Everyone loved me!” Kristen yelled. “I was up for teacher
of the year.
 
They don’t just give that
away to anyone.”

“Well, teacher of the year,” Mary shouted back, “maybe you
should have tried for Miss Congeniality, and then you wouldn’t be dead.”

“I never said anything mean to anyone!” Kristen screamed
back. “I only wrote that kind of stuff in my journal.”

“Maybe someone found your journal and read it,” Mary yelled
back.

“No, it was in a secret compartment,” Kristen exclaimed.
“I’m not stupid.”

 
“A
secret compartment?”
Mary asked.

Kristen shrugged. “Yeah, well, some of the stuff I wrote
about my colleagues and the principal could have gotten me fired,” she said. “I
guess I can be pretty blunt.”

“Really?”
Mary replied
sarcastically. “What a surprise.”

Just then the front door to Mary’s office opened, and the
bell rang. “Well, hello there,” Kristen purred, looking over Mary’s shoulder to
the front of the office. “Now that’s what I call Officer Tall, Dark and
Handsome.
 
Honey, you can arrest me
anytime.”

Mary spun her chair around and saw Bradley walking toward
her desk. “Hi,” she said.

He leaned over her desk and kissed her. “Hi yourself,” he
replied.

“So, he likes fat girls?” Kristen asked, floating over next
to the desk. “What a waste.”

“I’m not fat. I’m pregnant,” Mary replied through gritted
teeth.

Bradley looked at her questioningly.
 
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “And you’re not just
pregnant, you’re ravishing.”

“Oh, so he’s the one who got you knocked up,” Kristen
stated.
“Lucky you.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Mary placed her hand on
Bradley’s arm and said, “Bradley, I want you to meet Kristen Banks, a former
fourth-grade teacher.
 
Kristen, this is
my
husband
, Bradley.”

With Mary’s touch, Bradley was able to see the ghost of the
young woman standing next to Mary’s desk.
 
He had to admit it was still a little disconcerting to be able to see
dead people, but he was getting used to it.

“Hello, Kristen,” he said.

She studied him for a moment. “Do you think you’re going to
get fat?” she asked.

Concern crossed over Bradley’s features. He looked down at
his waistline and looked back at the ghost. “Why do you ask?”

Shrugging, she sighed. “Well, I had a fiancé who looked a
lot like you when we were engaged,” she said. “He was a real hunk. But I just
saw a picture of him, and he’s pretty much gone to hell. I just wondered if all
hunks turn out that way.”

“You think I’m a hunk?” Bradley asked, a grin spreading
across his face. He looked down at Mary and nodded in Kristen’s direction. “She
thinks I’m a hunk.”

Mary bit back a smile. “Yeah, I heard,” she said. “And I
agree.”

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you,” Kristen interrupted. “I
just wanted to know if you were going to get fat.”

“I’m not planning on it,” Bradley said. “But thanks for
asking.”

“You two deserve each other,” Kristen snapped. “But what did
I do to deserve ending up haunting McMillan and wife for the rest of eternity?”

“Who?”
Mary asked.

Kristen threw her hands up in the air. “I’m doomed.”

“Mary will help you cross over,” Bradley said. “She always
does.”

Sighing heavily, Kristen shook her head.
 
“The only clues we might have are in my
journal, and unless my old desk is still around, that journal is long gone. So,
we can’t find anyone.”

Mary stopped and shook her head. “Wait. What?
 
Your old desk?”

“Yes.
My old desk.
 
Because that’s where the secret compartment
was,” Kristen said slowly, as if Mary wasn’t very smart.
“In
my desk.”