by Barrie Summy
After pushing the bottle back in her pocket, she pulls out a little mesh bag full of ladybugs. The Ruler uses them in her garden to munch the bad bugs. Strange thing about ladybugs, they don’t fly too far from home.
A smell of honey + dirty socks breezes by me.
I stiffen.
The Ruler unties the mesh bag and starts gently tipping ladybugs onto the tallest tomato plant. Suddenly, the bag is ripped from her hand. Hanging upside down above her head, it shakes violently. Lady-bugs topple out. The empty mesh bag plops to the ground.
A wave of wind whooshes through our backyard, scattering the ladybugs.
The Ruler is still on her knees, her mouth open.
Finally, I get it together and jump down from the tree. Yanking off my necklace, I swing it wildly above my head.
The air clears and goes back to smelling like, well, like our backyard. The ladybugs are all long gone, up and over our fence, away from the friendly tomato plants.
I reach out a hand to The Ruler, who’s looking pretty dazed. I pull her to her feet and into a hug. I don’t hug her much, but I think she really needs it today. We both do.
“Okay, that was a weird wind,” I say, stepping back. “Good thing ladybugs are so cheap.”
“I think I’ll brew a cup of chamomile tea.” She picks up her kneeling pad.
Before grabbing the bucket, I push the necklace into my pocket. Arm in arm, the two of us trudge to the porch, where we dump the gardening things, then head into the kitchen.
I immediately plug my nose. Cabbage. Smells. Bad. Very. Bad.
“I need something stronger than tea,” The Ruler announces, her face all scrunched up, thinking. “Liquid vitamins.”
While she’s marching from cupboard to cupboard, snapping up junk like the blender and mysterious bags of powder and nonfat plain yogurt, I mess with my amethyst necklace. The clasp is bent from where I yanked it off, but I manage to get it to stay closed.
“Paula! Sherry!” Sam shouts from the office. “You gotta see this!”
We hurtle down the hall. Sam’s leaning back in the office chair, pointing to the computer screen. “You will not believe this YouTube.” He clicks on the arrow to play.
Gladiator music blares from our computer speakers. The camera zeroes in on a robot. It’s Donner’s bot. Close shot. Makes the robot look strong and superior. The camera shifts to another robot. Saguaro’s bot. It’s crying. “Don’t make me fight. I’m too wimpy. And I’m not put together right,” the bot whines.
Big masculine drums thumping in the background, Donner’s robot totally annihilates ours. Until it’s a puddle of parts. Then their robot, a victory fist in the air, stands on ours.
It’s when I see the last frame of the video that another piece of the mystery falls into place.
chapter
twenty-nine
“I know what plan B is!” I say to Junie on the phone. “Check out this YouTube.” I tell her the URL.
I’m in my room, hanging with my fish, waiting while Junie checks out the video.
“So a violent video of their robot beating up our robot was plan B?” she says.
“Pretty lame-o, isn’t it?” I say.
“Kind of,” Junie says, “but it’s kind of smart too. It gets them in this winner mind-set. Which they need after we whomped them so badly last year. And freaking us out only helps their cause. I bet they were planning to make sure we saw it before an actual competition.”
“Ya don’t think plan B could’ve been more substantial?” Cindy flits to the side of the tank and gapes at me.
“You know, Sherry, there’s a lot more to robotics than just robotics. There’s major mind games too.”
“Uh-huh.” Sometimes you just gotta let Junie drone. Cindy opens her mouth again. “Tonight’s a go, right?”
“Absolutely. Be on your curb at ten. Bring a flashlight and an open mind. Orders from Zane via Amber.”
“You wanna sleep over?” I ask. “We can sneak in and out together.”
“Sounds good.” Junie checks with her mom, who gives her the parental okay because tomorrow is Professional Development Day for teachers and there’s no school.
My phone beeps. “Gotta go, it’s Josh.” I click over.
“Hi, Sherry,” he says. “What’re ya doing tonight? Coach just canceled the six a.m. polo practice.”
Rats. We cannot seem to get on the same schedule.
“I’ve got a couple of Blockbuster coupons. We could stay up late and watch movies. I’d even go for a chick flick.”
Double rats. “Um …”
“My mom said she’d buy us candy.”
That clinches it. There’s only so much temptation a girl can take. “How about one movie and a really spooky adventure?” I tell him about the ghost hunting and Junie spending the night.
I’ve barely clicked my cell shut when Sam wheelies into my room. “Dinner.”
“Uh, Sam. Out! You know you’re not allowed in here.”
He walks over to my aquarium and gazes in. “So, Josh is coming over?”
He was eavesdropping. How much did the little twerp hear? “Maybe.”
“And you guys are going ghost hunting?”
Yikeserama!
“Listen,” I say. “You can play some video games with us if you don’t tell.”
His face is all wrinkled with worry. “Sherry, what if a ghost gets you?”
My breath catches. I have the same fear. “A ghost isn’t going to get me,” I make myself say. “It’s all, like, for fun.” Then I choke out, “Who believes in ghosts anyway?”
He lurches across the room and wraps himself around my legs. “I do. I saw a show about them on the Discovery Channel.”
“You can’t believe everything you see on the Discovery Channel, Sam.”
He looks at me like I said you can’t believe everything Einstein said. “It was the Discovery Channel, not the Disney Channel.”
“Fine. I’ll be careful,” I say. “Übercareful.”
“Pinky promise?”
I poke out my baby finger and we hook together. My brother’s basically creeping me out. I mean, I’ve been pushing my nervousness about tonight into a cobwebby corner of my mind. He’s shining a flashlight on it.
“Why don’t I come too?” Sam asks.
“Because you’re eight. It’s for older kids.” I’m almost happy when The Ruler calls for us to hurry downstairs. Cabbage casserole might be less painful than this conversation.
I’m pleasantly surprised at the dinner table. If you can get past the fumes, cabbage casserole is a dish of deliciousness. Cheesy sauce with a hint of walnuts and tofu that melts in your mouth. Sam and I both wolf down our portions.
“I think I better make that recipe again,” The Ruler says with a proud smile.
“Yeah, like tomorrow night.” I grin.
Sam just grunts, his mouth full.
Dessert is also heavenly. Moist carrot cake with honey-sweetened cream cheese icing. The Ruler loves to cook for us and she’s quite possibly the only person in the world who can make me crave healthy food.
“Here’s a present for you.” I hand her a gift bag.
“I have one too.” From under his chair, Sam hauls out his most recent Scout project. A leather key ring thingie.
The Ruler is smiling so big I’m worried her face will crack. She dangles the key ring in the air. “Sam, this is beautiful. I’ll transfer my keys to it tonight.” She opens my gift bag. Eyes glistening, she swings the necklace slowly in the air. She points to my necklace. “We’ll be matching. Oh, Sherry, you don’t know how happy this makes me.”
Or safe. “Let’s make a pact. Every day that I wear it, you wear it, and vice versa.”
The doorbell rings. It’s Josh with a movie and a big bag of candy. He and Sam mess around on a video game while I clean up the kitchen without complaining—a little extra birthday gift. The Ruler calls my dad, her fingers rubbing the amethyst while she chats. When she’s done, she passes me th
e phone.
“How’re you doing, pumpkin?” Dad asks. “No more slashed tires, at least.”
“Nah, we’re good.”
“Grandma called to say she sprinkled burnt cloves all over the house,” Dad says. “And something about a special wren. I swear she’s getting more eccentric with age.”
“Yeah, well, with all that clove stuff, it smells very Christmasy here, Dad. You walk in the front door and you pretty much start singing ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.’”
He laughs. “I miss your sense of humor when I’m away, Sherry. I’m sure having you around is helping keep Paula’s spirits up. And how thoughtful of you to give her a necklace for her birthday.”
All these compliments have me glowing like a night-light. We say our goodbyes and I-love-yous, and it’s Sam’s turn on the phone.
The Ruler stays in the kitchen on her laptop. Sam eventually moves into the office and onto the computer. Junie shows up and hangs in the living room with Josh and me, watching a fairly dumb movie. Which is fine. Sitting next to Josh, I could watch preschooler programs and still be stoked.
Slowly, slowly the clock ticks until The Ruler and Sam, who both have the same bedtime, come in to tell us goodnight. When no one’s looking, he mouths at me, “Be careful.”
I give him a thumbs-up.
“You’re all set for a ride?” The Ruler asks Josh.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He just doesn’t say his ride is from Amber and it’s to Buren Middle School.
Josh, Junie and I finish the movie. I can barely concentrate on the screen ’cause I start imagining all the things that can go wrong when you’re sneaking out of your house at night on a mission to find an evil ghost.
Junie’s cell rings. It’s Amber. She’s here.
chapter
thirty
I slowly twist the knob on the porch door, then creep through. Josh and Junie follow me. I leave the door unlocked so Junie and I can get back in later. We duck under the motion light. I creak open the gate.
We’re tiptoeing down the walkway to the curb when we pass Grandpa perched on the porch.
Even with The Ruler wearing the amethyst, he’s not taking chances, but standing guard. Anyway, the necklace is probably in her jewelry box for the night. A stone that large could puncture a lung. I sleep with mine under my pillow.
“Good luck,” Grandpa squawks.
I give a half-nod. My heart’s pounding hard enough to bust out of my rib cage. I so want Mr. Haggarty to be the ghost-stalker. ’cause once we know the stalker’s identity, Mom, Grandpa and I can start figuring out why he won’t move on. I’ll use all that info to connect with him at the cemetery and convince him to fly into the silver box. Every one of these steps is a step closer to Real Time with Mom. But this nocturnal field trip to Buren is massively scary.
“Call if you need us.” Grandpa fixes me with a serious look to let me know he means business and he wants me safe.
“That bird just cawed.” Josh frowns. “I thought birds slept at night and got up, like, really early.”
“Urban myth,” I say, all noncommittal.
“Definitely,” Junie agrees.
At the front of the house, I glance up at Sam’s bedroom window. Dark. And there’s no movement at the blinds. Phew. I so don’t need a little brother mixed up in this dangerous business.
I clutch Josh’s hand, and we climb into the backseat of Amber’s car. Junie’s in the front with her cousin. A feeling of relief rushes through me when I realize Nick is absent. Of course, I’ll make an enormous effort to get along with him. At some point. Of course, we’ll double-date. At some point. But I can’t handle being nice tonight, given all the spectral stress.
“You’ve got flashlights?” Amber says.
“Yeah,” I say. It’s not that she’s worried about us tripping over a tree root in the dark. No, no, no. She’s worried we’ll annoy her new, ghost-hunting boyfriend and cramp her style.
You’d think Josh’d be übercurious about this evening. Truth is, he isn’t a guy who questions much. More of a go-with-the-flow personality. Which works well given my secret assignments with the Academy.
We arrive at Buren, and Zane’s van is already in the parking lot, under a bright light. How do I know it’s his? First off, no one else is here. Second, spray painted in Day-Glo orange on the side, it says, THE GHOST HUNTER, ZANE BROWN. CALL FOR ANY AND ALL PARANORMAL CONCERNS. Then there’s a phone number. Third, the hatch is up, and he’s hauling out junk and piling it on the sidewalk.
Amber squeals in next to the van. The engine’s barely off before she’s out and hanging on Zane.
The rest of us exit and join them on the sidewalk. I’m sniffing up a storm. No honey + dirty socks. Not yet, anyway.
“This is Josh Morton,” I say, “my boyfriend.” I still get a flutter in my stomach every time I say that.
“Hi, dude.” Zane’s kneeling, sorting through his stuff and trying to keep his balance with Amber all over him. He practices our names in case we get into a sticky situation and he needs to shout out to us. “I’m happy to lead you all. Just remember to do what I say, and nobody’ll get hurt.” He gazes at us like we’re his kindergarten class. “Let me assign everyone a piece of equipment.” He closes one eye, like he’s truly sizing up our individual supernatural talents.
He does not look at me and say, “Dude, this chick can smell ghosts and talk to them. She’s awesome.” Instead, he unzips a lumpy backpack and draws out a tape recorder. “You’re in charge of audio for EVPs. If you hear any electronic voice phenomena, hit Record.”
Yikes.
“What about me?” Junie asks.
“Hmmm.” Zane rubs his cute but pointy chin, then hands her a digital camera. “You’re watching for light anomalies, ectoplasmic mists, that sort of thing.” Next he gives Josh eighteen-inch L-shaped copper rods.
“These are dowsing rods. Hold them out straight in front of you, man,” Zane says.
Josh sticks his arms out, zero bend at the elbows. “Then what?”
“If we encounter paranormal activity, the rods will cross, producing an orb. Junie will snap a picture of the orb. Sherry will record any voices or sounds.”
“What about me, Zane?” Amber looks at him with big emerald eyes. Which are really brown eyes covered with green contact lenses, but he doesn’t know that. He probably also doesn’t know about her school boyfriend.
“You can help me with the gaussmeter. And you can carry the infrared noncontact thermometer. And you can be in charge of the materials in the backpack. And you can carry a flashlight. And you can tell others when to turn their flashlight on or off.”
All these “ands” make Amber a happy camper. She does enjoy bossing Junie and me around. She waves the thermometer, which looks like a toy gun.
“We can expect a drop of approximately ten degrees with a paranormal presence,” Zane says.
I’ve never noticed that.
“Flashlights on, people,” Amber cracks in a drill-sergeant voice. She pokes the thermometer into her jeans pocket.
We head onto campus, armed with our ghost-hunting equipment. Junie and I also have our amethyst necklaces. And I have my nose.
It’s dark, but not pitch black because the school’s shining some powerful lights that apparently stay on all night. Plus, we’ve been ordered to use our flashlights.
“Time for some general rules about ghost hunting,” Zane says. “Number one: Only go with a professional. Like me. Number two: Scope out the haunting location during daylight. I investigated the location this afternoon. Number three: Have the proper ghost-hunting equipment. Once again, you guys have me.”
Blah blah blah. Got it. You’re the expert. But we’ve also got a mean ghost-stalker with an agenda. And whose name is on the agenda? Not yours. Mine. What am I supposed to do if the stalker comes after me specifically? In front of everyone? And hurts me? Or worse yet, trips me and makes me look like a total dork?
“What if the ghost is mean?” I ask. �
�How do we protect ourselves?”
“Good question, Sherry.” Zane stops walking, shrugs off his backpack and starts rooting around in it.
Amber rolls her eyes at me.
Zane hands each of us a small plastic bag with about a half a cup of something herbalish. “Open the bag if you’re in danger and let the spirits get a whiff. It’s cloves.”
So not filling me with confidence.
“This really works?” Junie’s frowning. “What about an amethyst?”
“I prefer cloves.” Zane waves his hand at our necklaces, dismissing the whole amethyst idea. “For a group, cloves are more cost-effective. If things really go south, though, I’ll take it to the next level. I have a method where I lure the spirit onto my back. Very fatiguing, but a special piggybacking talent I have.”
What is this guy blathering about?
“So what do we do?” Josh asks, all confused.
“If a spirit is bothering you and the bag of cloves doesn’t banish him, I’ll get down on my hands and knees, right close to you. The spirit will jump on my back, and I’ll take control of the situation.”
Junie and I raise our eyebrows at each other. Josh shrugs. Not like he really believes in ghosts anyway. Amber takes a baby step away from Zane. She tolerates little to zero weirdness in boyfriends. And Zane is close to crossing the line.
“We’ll walk around the school, concentrating especially on the office area.” Zane swings his backpack on and we start shuffling along again. “In general, we’re on the lookout for footsteps, weird smells, shadows that don’t make sense, doors opening and closing, lights switching on and off, sounds. Alert me immediately. I’m the expert.”
There’s a knot the size of Phoenix + Tucson + Flagstaff in my stomach.
Josh transfers both rods to one hand, then squeezes my shoulder with the other. “You okay, Sherry? You’re so quiet.”
“I’m okay.” If you only knew, dear cute, adorable boyfriend who thinks I’m normal. If you only knew how unokay I am.