I don’t exactly know how to answer this. Like, what if I said no?
“Sure. Of course,” I say. “You don’t have to ask, you know.”
Mrs. Sarah Delano Bathroom Hog clears her throat. “You never know about these things. I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”
I close my door and hear someone in the bathroom turning on the shower. I go back to reading.
It seems to take them forever to do whatever they are doing. I guess brushing teeth, hair, and whatever else people from Maine do in the bathroom.
There is a light tap on my door and Alice peers in.
She’s wearing a freaking flannel nightgown. I was about to say something to the effect that it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a girl in a flannel nightgown in real life and then I realize that, come to think of it, I’ve never seen a girl in any kind of pajamas in real life.
“It’s all yours,” Alice says. She looks around my room (which doesn’t take too long) and her face falls. “Gosh. They stuck you in the closet? I hope we didn’t kick you out of your room.”
I sigh. “Nope. That was my brother’s room. I’ve always just slept here.” I know exactly what’s coming.
“So…I guess that letter from Hogwarts never came, huh?” She says it like no one’s ever thought of it before.
I laugh anyway. Because she’s nice.
I go to the bathroom and the first thing I notice is that the little bath soaps and shampoos that Mom put out are missing. I mean, they are for the guests, but I cannot believe that people with this much money would actually take them.
Unlike when Daan and Luuk stayed, there is no trace of anything from our guests in there. Even the wet towels have been removed. I can’t explain why I find that so irritating.
I’m sure they didn’t do it not to leave a mess. It’s like Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot doesn’t trust me not to snoop in their toiletries or something. I guess I’m going to have to get used to all sorts of weird behavior from guests.
I take my shower (using our shampoo and soap) and towel off and get into my sweatpants and T-shirt. I wonder if boys in Maine wear flannel pajamas like Alice’s.
I head off to my room.
* * *
The next thing I know, someone is shaking me awake, and I freak out that I’ve overslept.
But even before I open my eyes, I can tell it’s not Mom’s hands.
These are more like talons, thin and with nails. And I know, with absolute certainty, that I’m not going to open my eyes and see my mother trilling, “Rise and shine!” I’m going to see something I don’t want to. I clench my eyes shut harder.
Then the hissing noise starts. “Sss, sss!”
My eyes snap open even as I’m shrinking back, afraid of what might be waking me up with that terrible noise, with such a grip.
Staring at me through wild eyes is Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot.
But she’s totally not.
Her hair is sticking straight out, like she’s been hit by static electricity. Her jaw is slack and her mouth dangles open.
But it’s her eyes…her eyes…
They are wide open. The pupils are dilated, the size of dimes, and the color around them is a bright yellow. It’s her eyes that make me yelp and struggle to get away from her, but she’s got me locked tight.
“Chhh…,” she says, staring at me.
“Wh-what do you want?” I manage to gasp. She’s skinny as anything, and it’s totally freaking me out because how could this tiny lady have so much strength?
“What do you want from me?” I whisper, barely breathing.
“Yaaaa…” She is struggling to get a word out.
Her eyes close. She is concentrating.
And then…
I almost don’t believe this myself, but I know what I see.
Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot’s iron grip relaxes, and slowly she begins to float, her feet no longer on the floor. She hangs there, and then her eyes pop open.
When she speaks, it’s not in her low voice and New England accent.
It’s the voice of a girl. With some sort of accent.
“Where is my little boy?” the voice screams. I swear to you I nearly peed. My parents didn’t believe me, and now I’m going to be murdered by a horrible lady possessed by a vengeful ghost.
Whoever is inside Mrs. Delano Cabot lunges for me and I yell as loudly as I can, and I keep yelling even after she falls in a heap on the floor, because I am still terrified. This is so much worse than lights, than missing photos, than falling pictures.
I hear the pounding of footsteps outside my door and Alice appears, with my folks right behind her.
“Mother!” Alice gasps, and goes to her.
There isn’t enough room in my closet for everyone. My folks stand in the doorway, looking confused.
“Danny, what is going on?” my mom asks.
I look down at my bedsheet, half expecting to see pee. I don’t think anyone would blame me. But my bladder is clearly braver than I ever thought it would be. Braver than the rest of me, at least.
“Mom, she was acting crazy,” I insist. “She shook me awake, and she yelled at me, and was, she was…” I struggle to find a word for “possessed and floating off the floor, Ghostbusters-style” that won’t make me sound insane.
Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot comes to and Alice hugs her. “Are you all right, Mother? What are you doing in Danny’s room?” Her eyes are no longer wild, and she abruptly sits up, back straight. Immediately, she runs her fingers through her hair, arranging it neatly.
Her jaw is set again. “Why…I am so sorry. I have absolutely no idea how I got here.”
“Were you sleepwalking? You scared Danny half to death! Mother, what did I tell you about taking that pill?”
“I never sleepwalk, I assure you,” Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot says sincerely to my parents. “Alice is right, it must have been that pill.”
Alice turns to us. “Mother always has trouble sleeping in new places. The doctor prescribed this medication that has all sorts of side effects. I told her not to take it.”
“I should have just asked you for a nightcap,” Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot says to my parents, smiling weakly, as Alice helps her to her feet.
“Are you sure she’s all right?” my mom asks Alice. “We can call a doctor.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot says briskly. “I’m fine. Couldn’t be better.”
She straightens her back. “Again, I am so sorry to have inconvenienced everyone. Please forgive me.”
With this she turns and marches back to Jake’s bedroom.
Alice touches my arm, where her mother was just squeezing the life out of me. I flinch.
“Wow. You’re really freaked,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, what a shocker. Your mom wakes me in the middle of the night, talking in some weird voice, asking about your brother. Yeah, I’m a little freaked. Are you telling me that’s totally normal up in Maine?”
“What brother?” Alice asks.
I feel the blood drain out of my face, and I get light-headed. I was really hoping that this whole episode was just the sleeping pill. I slowly turn to Alice. “Your mom shook me awake and then yelled, ‘Where is my little boy?’ ”
“That’s weird….I don’t have a brother. I have a sister.”
“Maybe she was dreaming about her own brother?” my dad suggests.
Alice sits on my bed. Not next to me or anything. Just on the edge.
“She doesn’t have a brother. I mean, she did, but he died when she was a little girl.”
We all let that sink in for a minute.
“Alice, darling, are you coming to bed?” calls a voice from Jake’s bedroom.
“Yes, Mother!” Alice answers. “Just a moment.”
Sh
e turns to me. “My mom’s just tired, that’s all. Whatever she said, it was the medicine, I’m sure.”
* * *
The next morning, there’s a note for me on the kitchen counter. It’s in perfect script, the kind we’re supposed to learn in school but no one ever does anymore. The paper is thick and cream colored. It’s the kind of stationery that costs a fortune. It even has a little design on the top linking the letters S, D, and C.
The note tells me that Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot regrets terribly the incident of last night and hopes I will forgive her for interrupting my sleep. She and Alice will be gone all day, taking college tours. And then dinner with a distant cousin who works “in finance.” But she hopes to see me tonight when they return. She signs it “With sincerest regards, I am Sarah Delano Cabot.”
As if there was any doubt?
Who writes like this? It’s like something out of a book.
I cannot wait to tell Nat and Gus about what happened. I text them. They’re both busy after school, but they promise to get together with me tomorrow.
I want to text back that I hope I’m still in one piece tomorrow, but I know that’s being a little dramatic.
At dinner, Dad entertains us with a reprise of his impression of Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot, including a new bit where he’s trying to get a piece of chicken into his mouth but his jaw won’t unclench.
“Why, this is so embarrassing,” he says. “I must write a letter of apology to the chicken.”
I have to say, my dad can be pretty funny sometimes.
I look at my mom, who has gotten a case of the giggles. I love that my dad can still make her laugh like that.
To my relief, there is no return visit that night. I learn later that Mrs. Sarah Demonic Possession and her daughter stayed at her cousin’s so late, they slept there.
The next morning, I’m in my room when there’s a soft knock on the door.
I open it to see Alice, in her lacrosse jacket, with her and her mom’s suitcases.
“Hey,” I say.
She smiles. “Hey yourself.”
“How were your tours?” I ask. I think it’s pretty impressive that I can speak to a high school senior without sounding like an idiot. Though I admit, I did come up with that question yesterday afternoon just in case Alice talked to me again.
“They were…okay,” she answers. “The tour guide at NYU kept going on and on about politics, which is important, but it would have been nice to hear more about the academics.”
I nod. “Totally.” That seems like a thing a guy her age would say. I am trying to keep up here. I don’t have much left.
“So my mom wants to see you,” she says.
“Um, sure. You know why?”
Alice shrugs. “I think she just wants to make sure you’re okay. She freaked you out pretty badly the other night.”
“Totally.” Now I have just gone into idiot mode. “I mean, not that bad.” I think if Alice had said “Would you put your head in the toilet and flush?” I would have nodded and said “Totally.”
I escape and walk down the hallway. Before I knock on the door to Jake’s room, I hear humming from inside. It’s not a song I recognize, but somehow I know it. It’s from another country, like a folk tune or a lullaby.
I knock on the door and am told to come in.
Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot is at the desk, her back turned to me.
“Danny, I did want to see you before we go,” she says.
I nod and am about to say “Totally” when I stop myself.
“I feel just dreadful about our little rendezvous the other night. I do hope I didn’t frighten you too much.”
“Nope, it was fine,” I lie. “Just surprised me, that’s all.”
Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot barks a laugh. “I should think so!”
She gets up and shakes my hand firmly. “You take care of yourself, young man!”
As she heads out the door, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“If you don’t mind,” I say, “what was the name of the tune you were humming before I came in the room?”
Another barking laugh. “I beg your pardon?”
“I heard you humming before I knocked on the door.”
“Oh, no!” Mrs. Sarah Delano Cabot sniffs. “I can’t carry a tune to save my life. Ask Alice. You’ll never hear me humming!”
“If you hum that one more time, I swear I’m gonna throw you in the freezer,” grouses Gus.
I’ve already hummed the tune for my mom and dad, who have no idea what it is. It’s driving me crazy, because it’s so familiar, but I have no idea where I heard it. I was hoping maybe we sang it in kindergarten or something, but Nat and Gus clearly don’t know it either.
We’re walking Gus to Baublitz’s—his dad has sprung an unexpected shift at the store on him. He’s in a lousy mood and I can’t blame him. It’s not like he wants to work there. Unlike Nat, Gus is expected to help out, and even worse, his father has made it clear that he’s going to take over the business one day, and that’s how it is.
Nat tries to be supportive. Like her dad before her, she’s been told all her life that it’s her choice if she wants to work at the store, that she can be whatever she wants. So if she wants to be a doctor, she can.
But Gustave Baublitz is going to be a butcher because Baublitzes have been butchering meat in Brooklyn since 1915, and some traditions are too powerful to simply walk away from.
“It would break my dad’s heart,” Gus says. “Besides, it’s nice to be part of history. Like being Prince William or something. It’s my inheritance.”
I don’t mention that Prince William probably doesn’t have to spend his whole day in a bloody apron chopping up animal parts, but then again, Gus’s dad, Emil, is kind of like royalty in the neighborhood. He knows everyone’s order, just like Sammy. And Joe.
Emil grew up in the neighborhood and has watched it change and grow. He began stocking fancier cuts of meat as his clientele started asking for them. Sure, people can buy meat at the supermarket or at expensive stores like Whole Foods, but a lot of them still love the idea of the neighborhood butcher.
“You’re doing it again,” Gus says.
I didn’t even realize I was humming. “Sorry,” I say.
Nat tugs at the straps on her backpack. It looks heavier than usual, which is saying something since she’s always got books in there to read. “It sounds like it is some song, but I don’t know what.”
She looks at me. “Was that Mrs. Sarah What’s-Her-Face the kind of lady who would do something like that for a joke? You know, to weird you out?”
“First of all, I don’t think she’s ever made a joke in her life,” I say. “And second of all, that thing the night before was weird enough.”
Gus takes three pieces of gum out of his pocket and pops them in his mouth. “Phoo gurgle abow—”
“Gus, for crying out loud, chew first!” Nat exclaims. “You are totally grossing us out here.”
She and I watch Gus’s jaw working furiously to wrestle the gum into submission. Not a pretty picture, I can tell you.
Finally he is able to push the wad into his cheek and he tries again. “You sure about that floating part? I mean, that’s some total special effects movie stuff there.”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I blurt out. “I know there’s no such thing as ghosts. I mean, I used to know that. I want to think there’s another explanation for this.”
Nat, logical as ever, sighs. “Danny, I just don’t get why this is happening now.”
“I know,” I say. “Part of me is wondering if it’s all in my head.”
“But that lady showing up in your room wasn’t in your head,” Gus protests. “If it was me, I would have screamed my head off.”
“I pretty much did, to be honest.”
/> “Who knows, Gus?” Nat says. “Maybe one night you’ll be haunted by the ghosts of the animals you’ve killed! Think about it….You’ll be asleep in your bed”—I lean in and continue—“and somewhere in the distance you hear…a forlorn noise….”
Nat covers her mouth and emits a low, spectral sound. “Moo…moo…”
“Oh no! Ghost cow!” Gus calls out, backing away from us. “And it won’t stop until I become vegetarian!”
We all crack up.
“Nat, just remember,” Gus says, suddenly turning serious before we go into the butcher shop. “We don’t kill them. Okay?”
Gus is very sensitive about this. They buy the sides of beef, the chickens, and the pigs from small family farms in upstate New York.
“When I was your age, I’d already killed a pig all by myself!” Gus’s grandfather yells from behind the stoop. He pops up with a broom in one hand. “What do you think a butcher is, anyway?”
I look in the store window. Hanging there is a bunch of meat on hooks. With its hammered tin ceiling and big glass cases filled with steaks, sausages, chicken breasts, and that kind of thing, the place still looks pretty much like it did back in the days when Old Man Baublitz was Gus’s age. There’s still sawdust on the beautifully tiled floor, which is used to soak up the blood (that’s what Gus told us), but now it mostly makes the place feel old-timey. Other, fancier butcher stores have opened in the neighborhood recently, and they’ve bought all this stuff to try to look like they’ve been here forever, but once you walk into Baublitz Butcher Shop you feel like you’ve really walked back into history. They’ve even kept the old phone booth in the back. There’s no phone anymore, but it’s a cool place to sit while you’re waiting for your order.
The new families who come into the store don’t really want to think about where their meat comes from. They could get their meat from a grocery store, but they want the best. So they trust that Gus’s family picks the finest cuts, and they happily pay top dollar to take home their meat wrapped up in waxed paper, “just like the old days.”
The Ghost in Apartment 2R Page 10