“Enough,” the girl whispered.
She dropped the dead bird. The game was over, but her heart filled with fear.
How could she explain this to her mother?
Shhh . . . Did you hear that?
Yes, that! No, don’t listen—
It’s Renie’s unfortunate song.
It sticks in your head,
round and round till you’re dead,
and you’d better not get a note wrong.
Poor Renie’s been cursed with no choice but to hum
the same tune—back to back—dusk till dawn.
If she pauses to take even one shaky breath,
darker trouble will soon come along.
The only way out
is to find a new ear
into which she can empty the curse:
a listener who,
after hearing the chorus,
might sing along with the verse.
If the song catches you,
your best hope—so I’m told—is:
Keep looping and looping it through.
Because if you come
to the end of the tune,
well—
it’s the end of you too.
When Erika and Mum moved into their new house, the first thing Erika unpacked was her trusty night-light. She plugged it into the socket by her bed and turned the switch. The bulb lit up with a warm, familiar glow. It made the new place feel like home already.
Erika didn’t actually sleep with the night-light on anymore. She mostly used it for shadow puppets, truth or dare mood lighting, or as a post-bedtime reading light. But in all the places she and Mum had lived, the night-light was a constant. It felt comforting and good to plug it in here too, in this new old house where they would stay a lot longer. Erika and Mum weren’t renting this time. Mum had purchased the house for a lucky price, and the plan was to live there forever.
Erika unpacked her clothes and put them away in the dresser. She unpacked Ribbit, the stuffed rabbit she’d had since she was a baby, and placed her on the bed. She unpacked her books and lined them up by color. Then she was bored with unpacking, so she went outside to explore.
Behind the old house, she found a field with tall grass and three gnarled apple trees. She ran to the first tree and jumped to grab the lowest branch. The tree looked perfect for climbing.
Erika swung her legs and climbed as high as she could. She picked a ripe apple and took a noisy bite. She was so focused on the tart, sweet fruit and the crunch of her own chewing, she didn’t notice the stranger approaching the tree until the woman called out, “Hello there!”
Erika nearly fell off her perch. She regained her balance just in time.
“Sorry,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Sam. I live over there.” She pointed at the house next door.
“Hi.” Erika squinted down at Sam, who looked about Erika’s grandmother’s age. She had short white hair and medium-brown skin that crinkled around her eyes when she smiled. “I’m Erika.”
“I know,” Sam said. “Your mom told me. It will be nice to have neighbors again after all these years. That house has been empty a long, long time.”
“It has?” Erika hadn’t thought about who owned the house before them.
“Oh, yes. More than fifty years. The last time anyone lived there, I was as young as you are now, if you can believe that,” Sam said. “So was Robbie.”
Erika jumped down from the tree, and brushed her hands off on her pants. “Who’s Robbie?” she asked.
“Robbie’s my friend who lived in your house. Roberta, her name was, but she hated that. She always went by Robbie. She grew up in your house, and I grew up in mine.”
“And then she moved away?” Erika guessed.
A funny look crossed Sam’s face. “No, not exactly,” she said. “She got sick. All of a sudden. One day she was fine, and the next she could barely stand up. I brought her all the schoolwork she’d missed, but she never got a chance to complete it.”
“She died?” Erika said. “In my house?”
Sam nodded slowly. “We were only twelve. Her parents boarded up the house and left in the middle of the night. They were so filled with grief, they never even said goodbye.”
“I’m sorry,” Erika said, because Sam still looked sad, even though all those years had passed.
“I used to think I still saw her waving to me from her window, though of course that was just wishful thinking, and maybe a trick of the light,” the neighbor said.
“Oh.” Erika didn’t love the sound of that. It was one thing for someone to have died in the house. It was another thing entirely for that person to still be around. “Which window was hers?”
“That one.” Sam pointed. “Second floor. Next to the small bathroom window.”
Erika stared at the row of windows, and an uneasy feeling slid up her spine. Maybe because two of those windows were to her room.
“I think I hear my mom calling,” she said. “Gotta go. Nice meeting you!” She ran to the house without waiting for Sam’s reply. When she reached the back door, she glanced over her shoulder. The neighbor was gone.
Erika and Mum celebrated the first night in their house with waffles for dinner and a movie on the couch. When the movie was over, Erika brushed her teeth and went to bed, and fell into a deep sleep. She dreamed of apple trees and rocking chairs, and the scratch scratch scratch of someone—or something—scraping the wall next to her bed. The dream stopped when she woke up. The scratching sound did not.
She opened her eyes and saw it was still dark. Raindrops pounded on the windows. She blinked in the darkness and heard it again: scratch scratch scratch. It sounded like it was coming from a few feet away—like, right at the foot of her bed.
There are no monsters under the bed, she told herself. Old houses have strange noises. There’s definitely nothing there. She clutched her stuffed rabbit closer. The scratches came again.
Erika held her breath. Slowly, slowly, and still hugging Ribbit, she peeked over the edge of the bed. Two yellow eyes stared back at her.
Erika yelped and turned on the night-light. Her eyes adjusted just in time to see a fluffy gray cat flick its tail and disappear.
She shook her head in disbelief. How had a cat gotten into her room? She almost didn’t trust that she’d really seen it. Maybe her brain was still asleep and dreaming.
“Here, kitty kitty,” she said softly. The cat did not return.
Erika looked at her open bedroom door. She considered getting up to go search for the creature, but she didn’t quite want to explore her new old house at night. And if she did find the cat, what would she do? Put it outside in the rain? Wake up Mum and ask if they could keep it? No. If the cat was still around, it could wait until morning. At least the scratching noise had stopped.
She settled under her blankets, left the night-light on, and willed herself back to sleep.
In the morning, the rain was gone, and there was no sign of the night visitor. Thinking of it in daylight, the cat seemed much less spooky, though no less mysterious. Erika told her mother about it at breakfast.
“Maybe it snuck inside while the movers were bringing in boxes,” Mum said. “Or maybe there was an open window or a loose board.”
“Then where is it now?” Erika said.
Mum shrugged. “Cats can fit through all sorts of tiny spaces. They just kind of pour themselves in. It’s pretty amazing. I think they might actually be liquid.”
Erika giggled. She wondered if the kitty was as soft as it had looked.
That afternoon, she saw Sam outside weeding her garden. Sam waved and offered her some sugar snap peas. “Do you have a cat?” Erika asked.
“Nope, no pets,” Sam said. “Just the crows and deer that visit the garden.”
“Oh. I saw a gray cat yesterday. A small, fluffy one. Do you know whose it might be?” she said.
“Ah,” Sam said. “That must be Ghost.”
“A ghost?” Eri
ka repeated.
Sam chuckled. “No, not a ghost. Ghost! That’s the cat’s name. She was Robbie’s pet. Every once in a while, I see her around here. Mostly at night.”
Erika narrowed her eyes. “But . . . that’s impossible, right? That the cat was Robbie’s? Cats don’t live fifty years.”
Sam shrugged. “They do have nine lives, some say. Maybe Ghost’s lives all stretched back-to-back. Stranger things have happened.”
Erika couldn’t tell if the neighbor was kidding. “They have?” she said cautiously.
“Well, sure. Or maybe it’s a different cat. But Ghost was always a strange one. Appearing and disappearing out of nowhere, without making a sound. Robbie’s the only one she would let pet her, too. They were close, so close. When Robbie’s parents moved, Ghost stayed behind. I think she didn’t want to leave Robbie alone, so she hid.”
“Didn’t want to leave Robbie, even though Robbie was dead?” Erika said.
Sam nodded. “Animals know things we don’t. They sense it.”
Erika didn’t ask what it was. She was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.
She thanked Sam for the peas and walked back to the house, looking up at Robbie’s window—her own window now. Or . . . was it? With a start, she realized something odd.
There were three regular windows and one small one on the second floor. Erika’s bedroom had two windows in it. The bathroom had one small one. So where did the extra window lead to? There were only two rooms on that side of the house—at least, only two Erika knew of.
She ran inside and up the stairs. She couldn’t find any more rooms. But she didn’t see a fourth window, either.
“Mum!” she called. “Mum, come quick!”
Her mother appeared, out of breath and looking worried. Erika felt bad that she’d scared her. “It’s nothing terrible,” she said. “Just weird.” She explained about the extra window. Mum went outside with her to look, and back inside to double-check.
“You’re right,” Mum said. “How strange. That window must lead to another small room between your room and the bathroom. But there’s no door. Maybe it got plastered over. I wonder why.”
Mum knocked a few times on Erika’s bedroom wall, and pressed her ear against it. “It doesn’t seem to be a load-bearing wall. I bet we can knock it down and make your room a few feet larger. We’ll try tomorrow,” she said. “Actually, this is a lucky find.”
“Can I watch?” Erika asked.
Mum smiled. “Sure. You can even help.”
That night, Erika dreamed of doorways upon doorways, opening opening opening but leading to nowhere. She woke to a familiar sound. Scratch scratch scratch. She opened her eyes. Moonlight streamed in through the windows.
She leaned over the side of the bed. “Here, kitty kitty.” The fluffy gray cat stared back at her. “Is that you, Ghost?” she said.
The cat’s ears twitched. Erika reached out a hand to pet her, but the kitty ducked away. She scratched at the wall with her paw, like it was a door she wanted Erika to open.
“Tomorrow,” Erika told the cat. “We’ll knock down the wall tomorrow.”
The cat blinked at her. Her whiskers quivered. She vanished so quickly, Erika didn’t even see her leave.
She told her mother about the sighting at breakfast. “Sounds like she’s a stray with some claim to the place,” Mum said. “You know, I’ve been thinking we might get a dog, now that we have our own house. There’s no reason you couldn’t have a cat too.”
“Really?” Erika said.
Mum nodded. “Remind me and I’ll pick up some cat food at The Galley. Maybe if we feed her, she’ll decide she’d like to stick around.”
Erika didn’t mention the cat might already belong to a dead girl. She was sure the neighbor was mistaken or pulling her leg. But she might call the cat Ghost anyway. It was a good name for a cat with a talent for appearing and disappearing.
When the breakfast things were put away, Erika and Mum covered Erika’s bed with a cloth and moved it away from the wall. Mum made a few tests and adjustments, made sure both their dust masks were in place, and handed Erika a sledgehammer. “Give it a good whack,” she said. “Right there in the middle. Let’s see if we can break through to the other side.”
Erika lifted the sledgehammer. It was heavy, but the weight felt good in her hands. She stood in the spot where the kitty had been, and swung at the wall with all her might. The sledgehammer landed with a thunk.
“Again,” Mum said. A few chunks of plaster crumbled to the floor.
She hit the wall a second time, and a third. On the fourth swing, the sledgehammer broke through. Mum cheered, then gasped as a spiderweb of cracks spread out from the hole and filled the entire wall. Erika had only a second to drop the sledgehammer and step back before the whole wall fell to the ground.
She stared. Where the wall once stood there was only a cloud of dust. Through the cloud, she could make out a small room with a small bed, and a rocking chair by the window. In the chair sat a skeleton of what once had been a person, who must have been about her size. The skeleton was looking right at them.
Erika gulped and moved closer to Mum. Behind them came a howl that made them both jump. The gray cat sprang out of nowhere and ran toward the chair. She meowed at the feet of the skeleton, and leaped into its lap. The kitty curled up on the skeleton’s legs, settling against the bones. The chair rocked.
“Ghost,” Erika whispered, and clutched her mother’s arm. The cat closed her eyes. This was what she’d wanted.
The skeleton lifted a bony hand and stroked the cat’s back.
Over the sound of her own heartbeat, Erika heard the kitty purr.
The best thing about summer was going to Nana and Vovó’s house. And the best thing about Nana and Vovó’s house was spending time with cousins. But when Anna Luiza’s dad dropped her off at the start of August, most of her cousins weren’t there yet—and Nana and Vovó had the flu.
“We’re so glad you’re here, though I’m sorry I can’t hug you yet,” Vovó said. She blew her nose and added the tissue to the mountain growing by her bedside.
“We’ll be back on our feet in a day or two,” Nana promised. She adjusted her many pillows. “Do you think you can help out with Silvana in the meantime?”
“Of course,” Anna Luiza said. Silvana was the youngest of the eight cousins. As the oldest, Anna Luiza was used to being in charge.
“She’s very responsible,” her father confirmed. “Let me make you some tea with honey, then I’d best be on my way. Anna Luiza, you’ll call if it turns out you need me?”
“Yup,” Anna Luiza said. She left him with his parents and went downstairs to find her little cousin.
Silvana was in the music room, playing Candy Land on the floor. She hugged Anna Luiza’s legs when she entered.
“Oh, gosh,” Anna Luiza said. “You’re playing Candy Land by yourself? You must be bored stiff with Nana and Vovó stuck in bed.”
She plopped down next to her cousin. Silvana advanced her game piece onto a yellow square. “I’m not playing by myself. I’m playing with Brucie.”
Anna Luiza glanced around. “Who’s Brucie?” It certainly looked like Silvana was playing alone.
“He’s my friend,” Silvana said.
“Ah.” Anna Luiza vaguely remembered having an imaginary friend when she was Silvana’s age. Her imaginary friend had been a unicorn with a rainbow mane, sparkly hooves, and a smart purple bow tie. Anna Luiza had called her Daffodil. “What does Brucie look like?” she asked.
Silvana made a face to say it was a silly question. “Like himself,” she said. “Like a normal kid, but blurrier.”
“Oh. Cool.” Anna Luiza nodded seriously. When she was little, she always hated when adults acted like the things she said were cute or funny. She never did that to Silvana. “So do you want to play another game now that I’m here, or—”
“Yes!” Silvana cheered. “Brucie wants to play Go Fish.”
Anna Luiza
opened her grandmothers’ game drawer and found a deck they could use. She shuffled the special way Nana had taught her, without bending any cards. “You and Brucie can be one team and I’ll be the other.”
Silvana frowned. “No teams. Three players is better than two.”
Anna Luiza dealt three piles of five cards each, and let Silvana have her way. “Youngest goes first. Is that you or Brucie?”
“Me,” Silvana said. She picked up her cards, arranged them carefully, and turned to the empty space between them. “Brucie, do you have any threes?”
After a pause, she took a card from the draw pile, and looked at Anna Luiza. “He doesn’t. Your turn.”
“Uh . . . do you want to check his cards to make sure?” Anna Luiza asked. Brucie’s hand still lay where she’d dealt it.
Silvana shrugged. “Nope. I believe him.”
“Okay.” Anna Luiza looked at her own cards. “Do you have any jacks?”
“Me or Brucie?”
“You,” Anna Luiza said. Silvana handed her one. “Thanks. Um, Brucie, do you have any jacks?”
Silvana selected a facedown card from Brucie’s pile and handed it to her cousin. Anna Luiza took it. To her surprise, it was a jack of hearts.
“Wait, how did you know which card it would be without looking?” she asked. The chances of a random card turning out to be a jack seemed pretty slim. Silvana must have either peeked or gotten lucky.
Silvana’s eyebrows furrowed together. “He pointed,” she explained.
Anna Luiza’s heart beat a little faster. “How did he know without looking?”
Silvana rolled her eyes. “He did look. Duh. Not everything works the way you think it does, just because you’re older,” she said.
Anna Luiza pressed her lips together. They kept playing. Somehow, Brucie won the game.
Anna Luiza was impressed. Last summer, it had been super obvious whenever Silvana was fibbing or hiding a secret, but her littlest cousin had grown up a lot in the past year. Go Fish didn’t exactly require great skill, but this was a pretty complicated trick Silvana was pulling off. Anna Luiza had no idea how she was doing it. It was almost spooky.
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