The Ghost of Gruesome High (12 page)

Wesley wasted no time getting to Jennifer’s house. He stopped the bug at the curb, since Jennifer’s mom doesn’t like anyone to park in the driveway. At least she doesn’t like anyone to park in the driveway if their car might leak oil. She has a thing about a spotless house, inside and out.

“You’re not going to hit me on the head and tell me to race somewhere else now, are you?” Wesley asked a bit petulantly. “I’m getting a little tired of being your chauffeur.”

I leaned forward and gave Wesley a quick kiss on the cheek. I did it in part just to annoy Jason. “No. I’m sorry. I just had to get away from Mr. Greenwald and I need to talk to you guys.”

“Why couldn’t you have talked to us on the way over here?” Jason asked, his arms still folded across his chest and his face still turned away from me.

This guy was not making any points with me today! “Because I wanted everyone here,” I answered.
 

“Everyone’s not here,” Jason said, finally looking at me but still keeping his arms folded. “Alan’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”

“He working on his history project. He’s got Mr. Stafford for history, too,” Wesley said. “Of course, Alan’s not getting a ‘D’ in the class like I am. But am I home, working on my report? No. I’m sitting in my car in front of Jennifer’s house —and I haven’t a clue why.”

I opened the car door and got out. “Come on!” I said brightly. “I’ll explain inside!” With that I skipped up to Jennifer’s front door.

I couldn’t believe myself! I was skipping again! I only skipped when I was nervous. I must have been mondo-nervous because I was skipping really well.

I didn’t want to listen to any more of Jason’s sniping, so I knocked on the door before the guys got to the porch. The door was already opening as the guys stepped up.

I think I mentioned before that Jennifer’s mom used to be a fashion model or something. And I think I mentioned how positively disgusting it is when she comes to school and all the boys act weird around her. I mean, she’s Jennifer’s mother for god’s sake! She’s almost forty years old!
 

I will admit she still looks pretty good for someone as old as she is. But I still think it’s disgusting the way Jason and Wesley looked at her. Especially the way they looked at her chest. Or rather, stared at her chest. I’ll never understand why boys are so fascinated with those things!

“Hi!” I said brightly as Betty (that’s what she wants us to call her!) opened the door, shielding her eyes with one long, slender hand. “Is Jennifer home?”

Betty looked at me, then looked at Jason and Wesley. She started to frown, then tried to think better of it and almost smiled. “She’s in her room, trying on clothes. We just got back from the mall.” She opened the door wider, inviting us in. “Remember to wipe your feet, please,” she said as she stood back and watched to make sure all of our shoes were clean before we walked on her beautiful, thick, plush white carpet.

Just as I started up the stairs Betty suddenly said: “I’m trying to talk Jennifer into entering the Peaches ‘n Cream beauty pageant next month. I really think she’s got a good shot at becoming Miss Peach. Maybe you could say something . . . ?” She looked at me hopefully.

I stopped abruptly on the stairs, causing the guys to pile up comically behind me (serves them right for paying more attention to Betty than where they were going!), and smiled. “I’ll give it my best shot,” I said.

Betty gave me a smile and a thumbs-up!

Jennifer’s house was always so spotlessly clean that I never felt really comfortable anywhere except in Jennifer’s bedroom. Most houses, even houses that are cleaned and vacuumed regularly, have a “lived in” feeling. A warmth to them. Not Jennifer’s house. Jennifer’s house always felt like one of those brand new model homes that people just walk through. There was never so much as a finger print by a light switch, or a cobweb in any corner. The walls always looked as though they had just been painted the day before, and the carpet was spotlessly clean, and so white it hurt your eyes.

And there was always some kind of a smell, a clean smell. I don’t know what she used to get it to smell that way—and obviously she liked that smell—but whatever it was I was always glad to get into Jennifer’s room, because that was the only place in the whole house that smelled and felt normal.

As I stopped in front of Jennifer’s door, Jason reached past me and started to grab the door knob as if he was just going to walk in. I slapped his hand away, hard.

“Ow!” he complained, holding his hand. “What was that for?”

“Didn’t you hear Jennifer’s mother?” I said, exasperated. “Jennifer’s trying on clothes. You don’t want to see her naked, do you?”

Both Alan and Jason smiled to themselves, then quickly wiped the smiles off their faces as I glared at them. I didn’t say anything, just knocked on Jennifer’s door. There was a pause, then the door opened and Jennifer stood there wearing only a floor-length slip. “Oh, hi!” she started to say, then she noticed the boys standing behind me. She looked embarrassed and quickly closed the door.

The guys didn’t say anything. They were both suddenly extremely interested in their shoes. About a minute later the door opened again and Jennifer motioned for all of us to enter. This time she was wearing blue jeans and a blouse, but no shoes. Several rather gorgeous dresses were lying on her bed. She began picking up the dresses, one by one, and hanging them in the closet as we talked. The guys took a long time to look her in the face; they just kept staring at their shoes.

“Look, everyone,” I said, taking a big breath, “I think it’s time we caught the Gruesome High ghost.”

Jennifer stopped in mid hang and slowly turned to look at me as if I was crazy, the dress still held out in front of her. The guys looked up from their shoes, and both of them did double-takes at the exact same second. I wished I had a camera. They all looked so goofy!

“What do you mean, catch the ghost?” Jason said. “How do you catch a ghost?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I answered, “because the Gruesome High ghost isn’t a real ghost.”

“It’s not a real ghost?” Wesley said, sarcastically. “Just exactly how do you define a ‘real’ ghost?”

“I don’t,” I said matter-of-factly. “Ghosts aren’t real. Our ghost is a person. And we’re going to catch him.”

“This won’t be, like, dangerous or dirty or anything, will it?” Jennifer asked. “I just had my nails done.”

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“So who is the ghost?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“How, exactly, are we going to catch this ghost that’s not a ‘real’ ghost?” Wesley asked in his snotty voice.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“What do you know?” Jason asked crossly.

“I DON’T KNOW,” the three of them mimicked simultaneously for me.

“Very funny,” I answered. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t. We all spent the next minute laughing uncontrollably. It was nice to laugh with my friends. I realized that I hadn’t done much laughing in the last few days. I promised myself right then that as soon as this ghost business was over, I was going to take a break.

Chapter 19

Letting go

I may not have had all the answers, but as soon as everyone settled down I did have one bombshell to drop on them.

“We need to go back to Mr. Bell’s,” I said suddenly. “And we need to go tonight. Right now.”

Wesley stood up and crossed his arms. “I’m not going back there. I told you that the last time. That guy scares me. He’s just too weird.”

“But Wesley—”

“Besides,” he continued, “I have to work on my history project. It’s due on Monday and I haven’t even started it.”

“I spent half the day in the library doing research for you! I’ve got a whole notebook crammed with everything there is about the building of the school and the first appearances of the ghost. Did you know, for instance, that the ghost was seen often during the construction of the school, but then it disappeared entirely for several years? It only started showing up again in the last couple of years.”

“So?” Wesley asked. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m doing my report on Fort Sumpter and the battle—”

“I thought you decided to do your report on the history of the school and the Gruesome High ghost,” I said, angry with him.

“No,” he answered calmly. “You said I was doing my report on the history of Grissom High. I never agreed. I think it’s a stupid idea.”

“It’s not a stupid idea!” I shouted. “I’ve done enough research for you to get an easy ‘A’! Besides, we really need to see Mr. Bell again. I need him to show us exactly where the ghost was the night he found the gold coin, and I need to talk him into letting me borrow the coin for a few days.”

“What do you need with the coin?” Jason asked.

“I think there’re a whole bunch of stolen gold coins hidden somewhere on the campus. There might be a dead body buried somewhere, too.”

“Of course there are dead bodies buried under the school,” Jason said. “The place was built over an old graveyard.”

“This isn’t an old body,” I said. “It’s the body of a man murdered about ten years ago. His name was August Wallenberg. He’s a cousin of Mr. Greenwald’s.”

“How do you know all this,” Jason asked, his voice totally exasperated. “How do you know the coins are buried at the school? And how do you know Mr. Greenwald’s cousin is buried there. How do you know any of this?”

“I don’t know it for sure. That’s why I need the coin. I want to use it as bait. Come on, guys! Please! Let’s go pick up Alan and go out to Mr. Bell’s. Please! We’ve come this far, we can’t stop now!”

“I could stop,” Wesley mumbled. “Easy.”

But I could tell they were going to do it. After all, this was the most excitement any of us had had in our whole lives!

* * *

In less than twenty minutes we had picked up Alan and were on our way to Mr. Bell’s. This time we had no trouble finding the rutted dirt road that lead to his strange, little house in the woods. The closer we got to Mr. Bell’s, the more excited I became. I know the guy is a little strange (all right, he’s a lot strange!), but I thought he was kind and sweet. He had lovely, happy eyes.

But the further up the brush-lined road we traveled, the slower Wesley drove. The sun was just going down as we made the final turn in the rutted road. Just ahead of us was the opening to the weird clearing around Mr. Bell’s house—and this is where Wesley stopped the car.

“This is as far as I’m going,” Wesley stated firmly. “That guy’s weird. He scares me.”

“Come on, Wesley,” I coaxed as if I was talking to a five year old afraid to jump off a diving board. “We’ll all be there with you. Nothing’s gonna happen. I promise. Come on!”

“No.” Wesley set the parking brake, turned off the engine, removed the keys from the ignition and put them in his pocket. He looked at his watch. “You’ve got twenty minutes. Then I’m outta here whether you’re here or not.”

“But—”

“Whether you’re here or not!” he repeated firmly. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “You’ve got nineteen and a half minutes—and counting!”

I didn’t waste any more time arguing. I told Jennifer to open the front door and get out. Before Jason could push the front seat latch and swing the front seat forward so we could get out of the back, I had already reached past him and flipped it forward myself.

“Hurry up!” I said to him impatiently. He frowned and was in no hurry to get out.

“Nineteen minutes,” Wesley intoned.

I didn’t wait to see if the others were coming with me or not. I leaned down so I could see Wesley sitting behind the wheel with his arms still folded, looking straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with me. “I’ll be as fast as I can,” I said. “Don’t leave without me.”

Wesley kept his eyes straight forward. “Eighteen and a half minutes and counting.”

I didn’t look at the others, I just turned and walked briskly toward the clearing and Mr. Bell’s aluminum-foil-covered house.

Even though the sun had set a few minutes ago, it was still light enough to see clearly as I stepped into the strange but enchanting clearing surrounding Mr. Bell’s house. The “yard” was still filled with “satellite dishes” that had been made from balls of aluminum foil. If anything, there were more “dishes” than the last time we had been here.

But it was the house itself that took my breath away. The last rays of the setting sun were flaring and sparkling off the aluminum-foil-covered house, making the entire little structure appear to be alive with light! It almost looked as if there were a halo around the house!

It was a beautiful, magical moment. I knew that I was seeing something that no one on Earth would ever see in exactly the same way again. The soft golden light made the little house look like something right out of a fairy tale! Only it was real.

I could feel Jason walk up behind me. I was so happy, and so mellow, just looking at this fairy-tale scene! Now, finally, I had something beautiful to share with Jason, something that . . . .

“What a dump,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

It felt as if I had just been hit in the stomach! How could we both be looking at the exact same thing and see something so entirely different? In the space of a single second, a dozen different emotions ran through me, everything from hatred and loathing, to pity. I finally settled on simply feeling sorry for Jason. He and I lived in two different worlds—and I didn’t want to be part of his world any more.