by Kelly Rogers
the bed, but the other furniture in your room
was there when I moved in.”
“So the dresser . . .”
BING! Shay’s question was interrupted by a
bell from the kitchen.
“That’ll be your breakfast,” Moira said,
straightening up. “Look, Shay, if you really want
to know more about all this, you should go see my
ma. She works at the Kilkenny Local Library in
43
the village. Just ask for old Mrs. Mulligan. She’ll set you right.”
Moira smiled and turned to get the food. “I
hope you like black pudding, Shay!”
When they finished eating, they returned to
the farm. Uncle Sean enlisted Shay in another
round of chores. It was after noon before she was
able to get away. She made herself two sandwiches
and packed them in a backpack. She also grabbed
the pictures she had taken from the hallway.
Shay was determined to learn more about
Bridget. She wasn’t going to stop because it was
time to eat. She left the house and headed toward
the place she met Bridget yesterday.
“Bridget!” she called as she walked up the hill.
Bridget was already there. She sat on the
stump Uncle Sean used for chopping logs. The
outline of an ax wedged into the stump appeared
through Bridget’s ghostly form. Shay shuddered,
but tried to hide her discomfort.
44
Bridget, meanwhile, had turned to face Shay.
Her eyes were narrowed and she pouted. “I’ve
been waiting all morning for you!” Bridget’s voice
was clearly angry. Shay was surprised. She had
seemed so friendly the day before.
“Sorry,” Shay muttered. “I wanted to come
right away. I was learning more about the farm.”
Bridget’s face softened. “The farm,” she said
as though she was remembering a sweet and sad
memory. “This used to be my farm, too, I think.”
Shay nodded excitedly. She sat down next to
Bridget. The whole story started tumbling out.
She told Bridget everything she’d learned from
Moira. She decided not to say anything about the
photos just yet.
At the end of the story, Shay grabbed her
bag. Her stomach growled as she thought of all
the farm work she’d done this morning. Shay
unzipped her backpack and pulled out her two
sandwiches.
45
“I’m starving,” she said to Bridget. “I’ve never worked so much in my life.” Bridget didn’t seem
to hear Shay. She focused on the sandwiches.
Shay unwrapped the first one and took a bite.
She immediately felt better.
“Do you remember anything else about the
cottage?” Shay asked.
Bridget shook her head as though to reset her
thoughts. She smiled at Shay, a little coldly now.
“Not much,” she said, still watching Shay.
Shay took another bite of sandwich. Through
a mouthful of food, she said, “Who else did you
live with?”
Bridget’s eyes swiveled back to the sandwich
in Shay’s hands. She watched Shay lift it to her
mouth and take another bite. Then she said, “I
don’t know. I don’t remember.”
Bridget didn’t sound excited anymore, Shay
thought. She was starting to sound upset. Even
angry. Shay wondered why as she took another
46
bite of food. She chewed, swallowed, and took her final bite.
Even after one sandwich, Shay was still feeling
hungry. She picked up the second packet and
started to unwrap it.
“I can’t think while you’re eating,” Bridget
snapped.
Shay looked up, startled. “I’m so sorry!” Where
are my manners? Shay thought. “Do you want
some?” Shay held out her arm to offer the jam
sandwich to her friend.
Bridget lunged greedily toward Shay’s
outstretched hand.
Bridget’s hand went right through the food.
“I’m so sorry,” cried Shay, “I forgot!”
But Bridget couldn’t hear her. She was
reaching out, again and again, trying to grab the
food. Her hair had come loose from her braid
and her lips curled in a snarl. She made a sound
somewhere between panting and crying as she
47
swiped and snatched and grasped and grabbed at the sandwich.
“I just want to eat!” Bridget finally screamed.
Shay dropped the food on the ground. She
curled up, away from Bridget. Bridget pawed at
the sandwich one last time, but it was no use. She
couldn’t pick it up.
Bridget looked up at Shay. Her face was red.
She had tears in her eyes.
“I’m just so HUNGRY!”
48
49
Chapter
7
4GD4QTSG
Shay headed straight to the farm after Bridget
left. She knew that she should find Uncle Sean
and get back to work. But she couldn’t forget the
look in Bridget’s eyes as she tried—and failed—to
get the sandwich. She ran into the kitchen and
scribbled a note to Uncle Sean.
7DMSSNRDD-QR -TKKHF@M
@BJAXCHMMDQ
i3G@X
Shay had seen a bus stop at the end of the
road. She walked to it and sat down on the bench.
She didn’t know how long it would be until a bus
50
came, but she didn’t care. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the photo of Bridget
with her family. She looked into the girl’s sad
eyes.
Shay didn’t have to wait long. Moments later,
a white and green city bus pulled around the
corner and stopped in front of her. She got on the
bus and paid her fare.
The journey took almost no time. Before she
knew it, Shay was walking through the doors
of the Kilkenny Local Library. She felt like a
detective. She ignored the books and computers
and marched straight up to the desk labeled
Information.
The woman behind the desk looked like a
storybook librarian. Her long, gray hair was piled
into a high bun. She wore a gray sweater, even
though it was June, and a pair of glasses attached
to a chain draped around her neck.
“Are you Mrs. Mulligan?” Shay asked.
51
The woman looked up from the computer
she’d been working on.
“I am,” she said slowly. “And you must be
Siobhan Sullivan from America. My Moira told
me to expect you. I understand you want to know
about the Sullivan farm.” Mrs. Mulligan shook
her head slowly. “Lots of sad stories in that place.”
Shay couldn’t tell her story fast enough. She
told Mrs. Mulligan about the cottage and the
pictures. She left out the part about seeing ghosts.
“And now, I just want to know what happened
to her,” Shay said. She took the photos out of her
backpack.
Mrs. Mulligan looked closely at the pho
tos,
her gaze shifting between them. She finally took
her glasses off and looked directly at Shay. “It’s
the town archive you’ll be wanting, then.”
Mrs. Mulligan led Shay to a table with a large,
leather-bound book next to a computer. “This
computer only has information about the town.
52
And this book,” she said, lightly touching the cover, “is our town record. Everyone who was
born or died here is in this book.”
“I’d start there, dear.” Mrs. Mulligan pointed
to a computer file titled “Famine, 1845-1852.”
Then the librarian left the picture frames on the
table and walked away.
Shay clicked on the file and read the
information greedily. She was skimming—her
brain was working too fast to read every word
carefully. Words jumped out at her:
potato crop failed
no help
starving
one million dead
Soon she had the story of what happened to
Bridget. Shay removed the pictures from their
frames. The dates written on the back of each
photo confirmed Bridget’s family lived in Ireland
when one million Irish people died of starvation.
53
On the back of the first photo was written: Walsh
family, 1846. On the back of the second: Walsh
family, 1848.
Shay turned to the leather-bound book. She
opened the heavy volume and flipped to the year
“1847.” There it was, written in clear black ink:
Death: Bridget Walsh, May 22, 1847 Cause:
Starvation
54
Shay didn’t see Mrs. Mulligan when she left the library. She boarded a bus back to the farm
without paying attention to her surroundings. All
she could think about was poor Bridget, who died
because there wasn’t enough food for her to eat.
Shay kept thinking about Bridget as she exited
the bus. She walked toward the cottage. What
was she going to tell Bridget?
But when she got to the cottage, all thoughts
of what to tell Bridget disappeared. Bridget stood
in front of the cottage with a bright smile. Behind
her, the cottage was lit up by a deep, golden glow.
A fire flickered in the great room. Shay could hear
the happy noises of people talking and giggling
inside.
Bridget waved her hands frantically. “Shay!”
she called. “Shay! You’ll never believe it, I
remembered what happened!”
Shay was astonished. She slowly approached
the cottage and Bridget. For the first time,
55
Bridget’s skin was full of color and her eyes were bright. The tired, sunken look was gone. The
smile on her face was genuine and reached all the
way to her eyes.
“I think I found out too, Bridget,” Shay said
slowly.
“Fantastic!” Bridget jumped up and down and
clapped her hands. “Why don’t you come in and
tell me everything?” Bridget grabbed Shay’s wrist
and started to lead her inside the cottage.
56
The Ending Is Up2U!
If you think Shay should yell for Uncle Sean
and try to leave, turn to page 58.
If you think Shay should trust Bridget and
follow her into the cottage, turn to page 65.
If you think Shay should ask Mrs. Mulligan
for help, turn to page 73.
57
ENDING
1
4GD3VHSBG
Nothing about what was happening felt right
to Shay. The last time she’d been to the cottage,
it had been broken down and abandoned. She
had heard phantom sounds. She had been hurt.
She wouldn’t go in the cottage without help.
“I think Uncle Sean should see the cottage,”
Shay said. She started to pull away.
“No,” said Bridget. “I think you’ll come in
right now.”
“Uncle Sean!” Shay screamed. She tried to
step away, but Bridget lunged at her. She grabbed
Shay’s wrist and pulled her into the cottage.
58
Shay fell hard to her knees. She stood up slowly. She brushed dirt off of her and rubbed
her wrist. Earlier that day, Bridget hadn’t been
able to touch her sandwich. What happened?
Shay looked around the cottage. She expected
it to be different. When she approached it earlier,
it was all lit up. But there was nothing new about
the cottage. It was empty and eerily quiet. Shay
couldn’t even hear the sounds of the birds or the
wind through the trees.
She started to go out of the cottage. Bridget
met her at the door. She looked different. Her
smile was no longer kind; it was menacing. Her
green eyes twinkled.
There was something else different about
Bridget. The ghost was no longer wearing her
white dress. Instead she was in a flannel work
shirt and a pair of old jeans. Just like Shay’s outfit.
Shay was scared to look at herself. When she
did, she gasped. She was wearing Bridget’s dress!
59
“What’s wrong?” Bridget asked wickedly.
Shay tried to run out the door, but she was
stopped as if she had hit a wall. She tried again,
more slowly this time. Still, she couldn’t get out
of the door.
Shay tried to climb out of the window in
the front of the cottage. She couldn’t. And she
couldn’t get out of the window on the other side of
the cottage either. It was as though each opening
to the house was covered by invisible glass.
Starting to panic now, Shay rushed to the
front door. She looked at Bridget. The ghost was
still smiling.
“Why can’t I get out?” Shay cried.
“You’ll get out eventually. Soon, I’ll be headed
to America. And you’ll be here, roaming the
farm. But for now, you’ll stay in the cottage. I
can’t have you ruining things for me.”
“What do you mean?” Shay’s panic was
leaving. It was being replaced by a sense of dread.
60
“Bridget, I’ve been trying to help you! I even went to the library and met Mrs. Mulligan. I read all
about the famine, about what happened here.”
“Then you know exactly how long I’ve been
waiting.” Bridget’s voice rose with every word.
She looked just like she had when she’d been
unable to eat the sandwich. “Over 150 years. My
family gone. They moved to America without
me. I can’t eat. And I’m always hungry!”
“I know, Bridget!” Shay tried to keep her voice
calm. “I know that your family ran out of food.
That you didn’t have enough to eat.”
“I was making sure Patrick had enough food,”
Bridget softened briefly. “He was only eight when
the food started to run out. I always gave him my
share, I just didn’t realize . . .”
Bridget then shook her head, as though she
was shaking off the memory of her old life. “I’ve
&nbs
p; been tied to this land for far too long,” she said
softly.
61
Bridget turned her gaze back to Shay. “I knew from the moment I first saw you in your bedroom
window—yes, that was me—I knew that I could
get you to switch places with me. I just had to
get you on my side. I had to be strong enough to
build the cottage’s magic.”
Bridget looked around the cottage with a look
of disdain. “Once you’d learned my story, I knew
that your feelings would help bring the cottage
back to life. To keep you here.”
“Shay!”
To Shay’s relief, she saw Uncle Sean walking
toward the cottage. He must have heard her
scream.
“Uncle Sean!” she cried, waving her hands
frantically. “I’m here!”
Uncle Sean didn’t seem surprised to see Shay
trapped in the house, or to see Bridget. In fact, he
didn’t seem to see Shay at all. He got closer to the
cottage. But he never once looked at Shay.
62
“What’s wrong? You sounded scared.” Uncle Sean directed this not to Shay, but to Bridget.
“Oh, nothing,” said Bridget. “I just wanted you
to tell me about this cottage I found.”
“Uncle Sean, it’s me!” Shay cried. Again, he
didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes scanned the
cottage before he spoke again.
“This has been here for ages. In fact, I’ve been
thinking of bulldozing it.” He looked around
again, then turned to Bridget. “Let’s head back
to the farm, Shay.” Then he patted Bridget on the
shoulder, just like he had done to Shay on her
first night at the farm.
“Uncle Sean! Wait! It’s me! I’m here!” But he
still didn’t hear her. Both Bridget and Uncle Sean
turned away from the cottage.
They didn’t look back.
Shay started pounding on the invisible barrier
keeping her inside the cottage. “Uncle Sean!” she
screamed. “Uncle Sean!”
63
Shay watched helplessly as her uncle and the
girl who switched places with her walked off to
the farm.
64
Ending
2
4GD4QDD
Shay let herself be led into the cottage. The
first thing she noticed was the smell of soup
that had been cooking all day. Then Shay looked
around.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was like the
cottage had come alive! The fire was lit in the
great room. Glowing lamps on the walls and table