by Kat Shepherd
Maggie ducked her head in. “Juniper?” Beyond the doorway the hall was narrower and darker. The old lighting fixtures were burned out, and instead of the plush red carpeting and ornate wallpaper of the public parts of the theater, the floor was a cold, industrial tile, and the walls were covered in peeling gray paint. Maggie found another doll on the floor next to a few dried rose petals at the top of a dark stairwell. She hesitated. What if the dolls weren’t left by Juniper?
Below her Maggie heard a familiar, tuneless singing, and her heart flooded with relief. Juniper. Maggie hurried down the steps as carefully as she dared, gripping the handrail tightly, and found the little girl alone on the landing. The second stairwell below her was in almost total darkness, but Juniper was about to descend, her arms too full of dolls to hold on to the railing. “Juni! No!”
The girl stopped and turned around, losing her balance. She teetered and started to tip backward. Maggie lunged for her, catching her just before she toppled down the steps. The dolls fell from her arms and scattered across the landing.
Maggie took a shuddering breath and hugged the little girl against her. “Juni, are you okay? You scared me! We were supposed to stick together, remember?”
“I’m sorry.” Juniper started to cry.
Maggie comforted her. “It’s okay; I’m not mad. I was just worried. I couldn’t find you! What were you doing down here?”
Juniper sniffled. “I was playing. I was doing a treasure hunt.”
“Sweetie, you can’t play down here. It’s really dark and dangerous, and it was hard to find you. You almost got hurt. If you want to make a treasure hunt, we can plan one someplace safer.”
“No!” The little girl twisted out of Maggie’s arms. “I wasn’t making the treasure hunt; I was on it! I followed them.” She knelt down and began to collect the dolls scattered along the landing. “It was like Hansel and Gretel and the trail of breadcrumbs.”
“They led you down here?” Maggie asked.
“Uh huh. See, that’s my name.” She held up her favorite blond-haired doll from the nursery. Tied around the doll’s neck was a red ribbon with a creamy card attached, edged in red. Juniper was written on the front in red ink.
A chill crept over Maggie’s spine.
Maggie flipped the card over and found Follow me written on the back in the same red ink. The handwriting was graceful, with bold, sweeping strokes. Maggie held the card to her nose and inhaled. Perfume.
She knew who had set up the treasure hunt. The woman in red wasn’t after Emily; she wanted Juniper.
When Maggie and Juniper exited the dark hallway, Maggie closed the heavy fire door firmly behind them. She knelt down in front of Juniper and looked her straight in the eye. “Juni, this is really important. You can’t go down there again, no matter what. It’s very dangerous. Okay?”
Juniper’s lip quivered. “Okay.”
Maggie brushed the little girl’s hair out of her eyes. “And you have to promise me that you won’t ever go off by yourself. I’m your babysitter, and it’s my job to keep you safe. I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are. You got it?”
Juniper nodded solemnly. “Good,” Maggie said. “Now let’s put these dolls away and go find your mom. I bet she would love to give you a great big hug right now!”
Back upstairs the cast and crew were finishing up for the day. Emily looked drawn as she hunted among the rows of seats for her things. “Let us help,” Maggie suggested.
Emily forced a tired smile and swept Juniper into her arms, spinning her around. “How’s my little Junebug? Did you have a fabulous princess adventure today?”
Maggie squeezed Juniper’s coloring books and crayons into her sparkly backpack. “Maybe a bit too much of an adventure,” she said carefully. She told Emily how Juniper had wandered off, leaving out the woman in red’s role in it. “I went over the rules with her, but I think it would help if you went over them again with her, too,” Maggie said. “It really scared me when I couldn’t find her.” She bit her lip and looked down. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to babysit her anymore.”
Emily’s face softened. “Maggie, it sounds to me like you did everything right. Juniper knows better than to wander off on her own without telling anyone.” She touched her daughter gently on the top of her head. “Right, Juni?” Juniper hung on her mother’s legs, and they both gave Maggie a warm goodbye hug.
Emily’s faith in her had been a huge relief, but Maggie still felt uneasy on her way home. What if Juniper forgot the rule again? What if the woman in red grew bolder and tried to take her when Maggie was there? Could one young babysitter really protect her? Maggie thought back to Rebecca, the most responsible babysitter she knew. Rebecca loved baby Kyle like he was her own brother, and even she hadn’t been able to keep him completely safe from the Night Queen.
And as much as Maggie hated to admit that she needed help, she knew she couldn’t protect Juniper on her own. She still wasn’t any braver or tougher than she was yesterday, but at least she was smart enough to know that Juniper’s safety mattered a lot more than her own pride. Maggie sighed and pulled out her phone. It was time to call in her friends. She only hoped they could do a better job together than she’d been doing on her own.
CHAPTER
11
“THANKS FOR MEETING me before school.” Maggie smiled gratefully at the other girls, who were gathered around a platter of doughnuts sitting on the glass counter of Kawanna’s costume shop, Creature Features.
“I knew it must be something big if you were willing to get up this early,” Rebecca said. She ran her fingers through her high ponytail and leaned one hip against the counter. “What’s going on?”
Maggie took a nervous nibble of her pink-frosted doughnut. “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of avoiding everybody. It’s just … I didn’t think you guys were gonna want to hear this, so I wanted to make sure I was right before I talked about it with you,” Maggie said in a rush, needing to fill the anxious, empty space with words. “I’ve been really stressed out about it, and I wasn’t sure what to do.” There. She had said it.
“Stressed about what?” Tanya asked.
Oh. Right. Maggie realized she still hadn’t gotten to the point. She looked around at the girls’ expectant faces. “The truth is, I’m really worried about Juniper.”
Clio put her hand on Maggie’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay. You know you can tell us anything.” She exchanged a glance with Rebecca.
Maggie shook her head and put down her doughnut. “I just wish so much that none of this happened, but it did.”
“None of what happened?” Rebecca asked. “You still aren’t making sense.”
“It’s just … I don’t know. Kawanna, I know how hard you’re working at the theater. I haven’t said anything about what I’ve seen there partly because I didn’t want to upset you.”
Kawanna, a true night owl, was still dressed in flannel pajamas, with her red-and-blue silk bathrobe dragging on the floor behind her. She slurped a giant mug of chai. “Honey, I’m already upset from having to be awake this early. You may as well spill it.”
The words came out in a rush. “I think the Twilight really is cursed. Or haunted. Or haunted and cursed. I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s really freaking me out.” Before anyone could say anything, Maggie launched into a description of what she’d seen at the Twilight, beginning with the assistant director’s creepy pronouncement and ending with finding Juniper on the fire stairs.
The room was quiet. Finally, Tanya spoke. “Maggie, are you sure about this? I mean, you kind of think you heard something, you kind of think you saw something, and then you lost Juniper for a few minutes. Are you positive it’s not just a combination of your imagination and new babysitter jitters? I saw how freaked out you were by that whole Macbeth-bad-luck thing. Sure, losing track of the kid you’re watching for a few minutes is definitely stressful, but it happens sometimes if you’re not careful. There doesn’t need to be a supernatural reason
.”
“Are you kidding right now?” Maggie bristled. “When Rebecca and Clio had creepy stuff happen when they babysat, nobody thought it was because they stunk at babysitting and imagined it—especially when they asked for help.”
“Yeah, well, you guys didn’t believe us right away, either. Plus, that was different,” Rebecca said.
Maggie folded her arms, eyes blazing. “You know, this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell any of you. I knew it would be just like this. Of course nobody believes me, right? Instead you just want to throw it in my face as proof that I’m not mature or careful enough to handle babysitting!”
“I don’t think anyone’s saying that,” Kawanna said gently.
“That’s exactly what they’re saying!” Maggie shot back.
Kawanna rubbed her forehead with both hands. “Girls, it is way too early in the morning for this,” she mumbled. She took a long sip of her chai. “Can everyone just take a minute?” She closed her eyes. “Okay. Deep breath.”
The four girls shifted uncomfortably. Then they each closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Maggie could feel her shoulders hunched and angry. She stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders open. She took a second deep breath. She was still mad, but she felt a little better. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the edge of a smile quirk the corner of Kawanna’s mouth.
“I was really just talking to myself there, but it looks like that deep breath may have helped y’all, too,” Kawanna said. “All right, now let’s take a step back. I’m going to start by saying that, Maggie, I think you’ve been a terrific babysitter. Every time I see you at the theater, I see that Juniper is happy and her mom is happy. They obviously love you, and it’s clear that Juniper feels very safe with you.”
Maggie felt some of the tension ease out of her body. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
Kawanna went on. “Now, I haven’t seen any woman in red”—Tanya opened her mouth to interject, but Kawanna held up her hand—“but I haven’t exactly been looking. I’m so busy with the play and the theater restoration that a buffalo could tap dance across the stage and I probably wouldn’t notice.” She yawned and took another sip of her chai. “Besides, we all know that there have been quite a few supernatural critters in Piper that children can see but adults can’t.”
“Okay, so Kawanna hasn’t noticed anything unusual,” Tanya said. “I guess that doesn’t really give us any new evidence either way, then. We just have Maggie’s word to go on.”
“Which should be as good as Clio’s or Rebecca’s word, since everyone believed them,” Maggie said firmly.
“Hold up, hold up,” Kawanna said. “Let me finish before you start biting one another’s heads off. I only said I hadn’t seen any woman in red. I didn’t say I hadn’t noticed anything unusual.” Maggie couldn’t help shooting Tanya a smirk of triumph.
“There have been too many accidents on set,” Kawanna continued. “And Emily’s dress was definitely a deliberate act. We thought it might be a jealous castmate, but everyone likes Emily, and there’s no one else in the cast who auditioned for her role.” She put her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “I can’t offer much insight into what’s happening at the theater, but I can tell you that I believe you.” She looked sternly at the other three girls. “And I hope that everyone here can say the same thing.” The girls nodded uncomfortably.
“Great, so apparently you’ll listen to Kawanna and not me. Perfect. But since she vouched for me or whatever, maybe now can we finally start focusing on the supernatural stuff—like we’ve done when all of you have had problems—and less on my babysitting abilities?”
Tanya pulled at the hem of her CODE LIKE A GIRL T-shirt. “Sorry, Mags. We didn’t mean to act like we didn’t think you’d be a good babysitter. It’s like we all remember how nervous we were on our first babysitting jobs, and we wanted you to know that we were there to help, and I guess we just kind of went overboard. And with all this haunted curse stuff, it’s just hard to imagine there could be another ghost in town, you know?”
“I don’t see why it’s so hard to believe,” Maggie said. “It’s not like there’s only one ghost in the whole world.”
“Yeah, but until recently I didn’t think there were any ghosts, so cut me some slack,” Tanya said.
“I just want to say … Maggie, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I think it’s more like I don’t want to believe you.” Rebecca hugged herself. “I don’t know about anyone else, but all the supernatural stuff we’ve been through … even when it’s over it doesn’t feel over.” She chewed her thumbnail. “I have bad dreams about the Night Queen all the time.”
Clio nodded slowly. “I get it. When I was babysitting at the Lees’ I was so hoping I was wrong about all the spooky stuff in their house, because it scared me so much. But then I was also kind of mad because it felt like it took forever to convince you guys, even though it took me almost as long just to convince myself.” Her eyes were earnest. “I’m really sorry if we were doing the same thing to you, Maggie.”
Kawanna patted her niece’s back and turned to Maggie. “So do you think the woman in red could be the Night Queen?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “Her arms are all covered up and I can’t see her face, so I don’t really know what she looks like. But I don’t think the Night Queen would bother hanging around a theater or ripping up Emily’s dress, do you?”
“Yeah, but she would take Juniper,” Rebecca answered.
“I know,” Maggie said, “but I just don’t think it’s her. The woman in red gives me a different feeling. I bet it has something to do with the theater itself. After all, Macbeth is already a bad-luck play, right? And then this whole thing about the ghost light going out, too? I mean, that can’t be good. I think Myles Dubois was right about the curse.” She picked up her doughnut and took a bite. “What exactly is the deal with a ghost light anyway?” she asked Kawanna with her mouth full.
Kawanna put down her tea and stretched. “The ghost light is a bare bulb that’s kept lit in the middle of the stage whenever the theater is dark. A lot of folks believe that theaters are full of spirits, and the ghost light keeps them happy, contented, and out of mischief. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I can say that we always had ghost lights in the theaters where I worked.”
Clio looked at the clock on the wall and picked up her backpack. “Well, if there is a ghost at the Twilight, we have a pretty easy way of finding out.” She pulled her phone out of the outside pocket. “It’s time to call in our ghost expert.”
“Great idea,” Maggie said. It felt good to be part of a team again, with everybody working together. Tanya and Rebecca were already making notes about how to investigate the theater, and Clio was next to them chiming in while she texted Ethan. “So, what’s the plan?” Maggie asked, squeezing in. “I was thinking we could look for the ghost tonight, since there’s no rehearsal. What do you guys think?” They were so busy with their conversation that they didn’t look up, and Maggie felt almost as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
She thought back to their conversation a few moments ago. The other girls had all apologized for doubting there was a ghost at the Twilight, but had any of them really apologized for doubting Maggie? Everyone seemed eager to jump in and make a plan, but it seemed strange to Maggie that nobody was asking for her ideas. After all, she was the one who had actually seen the ghost. Maggie thought she would feel relieved to have her friends by her side again, but instead she suddenly felt more alone than ever.
CHAPTER
12
LATER THAT EVENING, Ethan Underwood joined the girls on the Twilight’s stage. The front of the stage was in disarray with half-painted scenery and a few plastic skeletons hung haphazardly in front of the closed curtain. For some unknown reason the taxidermic bear had been dragged out of the wings, even though Maggie was pretty sure there were no bears in Macbeth.
Maggie picked her way through the obstacles, and she stumbled into one of the skele
tons. It startled her way more than she wanted to admit, and she smacked the bony arm in irritation. “Ugh, really?! These skeletons are seriously not helping anyone right now.”
Rebecca giggled nervously. “I know, right? It’s like this place couldn’t get any creepier if it tried.” She leaned a wooden mallet against the wall near the front of the stage.
“Oh, trust me, it can get creepier,” Maggie said. “You haven’t seen the nursery yet.” She watched the others setting up and tried not to wonder why she was the only one who hadn’t been given anything to do.
Ethan settled cross-legged in the middle of the stage with three candles and a book on the floor in front of him. The ghost light was still out. “If the ghost light really is the problem, then why don’t they just fix it or get a new one?” Tanya asked.
Clio carefully tied a bell to one of the ropes in the theater’s wings. “I asked my auntie about that earlier. She said that anytime they try repairing or replacing the ghost light, sparks fly out of the outlet.”
Tanya opened a purple composition book and clicked her pen. “Interesting,” she said, and wrote down a few notes.
Ethan struck a match and lit the candles in front of him, and the girls joined him, sitting in a circle on the stage. Clio waited until they were all settled and then flipped off the house lights and joined them. The golden glow of the candles spilled their warm light across their anxious faces.
Maggie focused on the circle of friends around her, afraid of what she might see in the murky recesses beyond the stage. She willed herself to be brave. It’s different this time, she told herself. I don’t have to be scared anymore, because now I’m not alone. Right?