A Sprinkle of Spirits

by Anna Meriano

  Brent held his feet still, coasting on the reddish-brown gravel.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Leo replied. “You’re helping me fix this mess.”

  “True,” Brent said, and Leo could hear his self-satisfied smile even if she couldn’t see it. “I am a pretty great friend, for a muggle.”

  Leo laughed. “Maybe,” she said, “but you’re not the champion Ghostbuster anymore. Now we’re tied!” She pointed over his shoulder to the park bench that was enveloped in an orangey-gold glow. In the middle, just visible if Leo squinted against the glare, sat Mayor Rose.

  “No fair!” Brent stopped the bike, kicking up muddy gravel that bounced against Leo’s ankles. “I was busy enjoying that moment.” He waited for Leo to climb down before dismounting from his bike. “Besides, I should get at least half credit for providing transportation. And that makes me the undeniable champ, especially if you consider . . .”

  Leo stopped listening to Brent’s chatter as they approached Mayor Rose. He looked younger, like Abuela, but he also looked sadder, that wide grin absent from his face as he ripped leaves off the bush behind him and dropped them one by one onto the ground.

  “Mayor Rose?” She jogged up to him and sat on the empty end of the bench. “What are you doing here?”

  He sighed heavily and dropped a few more leaves before answering. “I used to run in these fields, back when they stretched out all the way to the county line,” he said. “I came up with the idea for this park. The town was expanding fast, paving over more of the fields for new houses and buildings, and I wanted to keep some of the trees, the grass, where I played as a boy. It looks so different now. The whole town does.”

  “But . . . that’s good, right?” Leo asked.

  Mayor Rose just shrugged. “I always wanted the town to grow. Spent so much of my life pushing for it. I guess it’s hard to accept that it may have outgrown me. It’s the natural order of things, of course, but sometimes I look at the town and I worry that it’s not in the right hands, that things are changing in the wrong way. I just wanted to make sure it got back on the right track.”

  Leo nodded. “I don’t think you need to worry,” she said. “We have two people and no animals running for mayor, and there’s a lady at city hall who cares a lot about our political process. And she’s teaching people about it.” Brent rolled his bike up next to them. “And lots of people are interested. Like, Brent, did you know that mayors could make parks? Isn’t that cool?”

  “Uh . . . I guess?” Brent blinked at her.

  “It’s super cool,” Leo insisted. “And probably they do lots of other important things. Like . . . like fix potholes!” She imagined Mayor Rose standing in front of a bulldozer, smoothing out the street while everyone in town gathered to clap. “No wonder you loved being mayor.”

  “The deadline to run for office passed,” Mayor Rose said.

  “I know.” Leo patted his arm. “I went to city hall. I’m sorry I missed you. But I think this is for the best.”

  Mayor Rose sighed. “I probably should have left the campaign signs alone. But knowing that I have to let the town go on without me doesn’t make it any easier.”

  Leo nodded.

  “Anyway,” Brent said, prodding Leo’s elbow, “we do kind of need to get you back as soon as possible.”

  “I thought maybe I was going to stay here and become a poltergeist, haunting the park.” Mayor Rose sighed dramatically.

  “Oh no, you’re not!” Brent exclaimed. “Not after everyone worked so hard to find you. We didn’t chase you across town for you to disintegrate and ruin the park for everyone!”

  Mayor Rose looked up at Brent for the first time. “How did you find me?” he asked. “And who are you, exactly?”

  “He’s my friend Brent,” Leo explained. “And he’s right. We’ve got teams out searching for all of you runaways, and we’re not going to let any of you turn into restless ghosts. We’re taking you back to the brujas who know how to fix this.”

  Mayor Rose dropped the last few leaves in his hand and looked at Leo with interest lighting his eyes. “Teams of search parties, huh? And a headquarters. And a plan once you have everyone back together again. Not bad. Whose idea was all this?”

  “Leo’s,” Brent said. “We’re all her friends. She called us together.”

  Mayor Rose nodded. “Exactly as I suspected. Seems like we have one passionate leader in Rose Hill’s future, at least. That’s good to know.”

  “Me?” Leo asked. “I wouldn’t call this much of a plan. I just knew we had to fix everything before it got worse.”

  “An accurate description of a public servant.” Mayor Rose grinned. “And rallying your friends to help you, that’s not an easy task.”

  “Yeah.” Leo shrugged. “But I’m not good at it. Nobody listens to me unless it’s an emergency, and everyone is always annoyed with me, and I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.”

  Mayor Rose’s laugh, high and clear, echoed through the park. “Spoken like a true politician,” he said. He put his hands on his knees and grunted as he stood. “All right then, let’s go. I wouldn’t want to throw a wrench into your plan—taking a dip in credibility this early in your career could really hurt your chances down the line.”

  Chances for what? Leo thought. It was a funny thing to say. Leo, a leader? She was already going to be a baker and a bruja. Wasn’t that enough jobs for one person?

  But as they walked past the H-E-B, Leo couldn’t help imagining that it was her standing in front of the bulldozer while the pothole got fixed once and for all. Maybe it would be cool to be a leader. She just had to figure out exactly what it meant.

  Leo had shed her sweatshirt by the time they reached Caroline’s house, the morning’s chill burned mostly away by the noon sun. She was relieved to turn up Caroline and Brent’s street, not only because Mayor Rose had even more dark hair mixed in with his white and gray. Plus, as they got close, their spirit vision showed several gold lines crisscrossing the street, which Leo took as a good sign.

  “Hey, what happened?” Brent demanded as they passed his house. “Who’s been messing around in my yard?”

  His gate was open, and through it, huge fresh mounds of dirt had been dug up to make room for a bunch of large shrubs that hadn’t stood there before.

  “Uh-oh,” Leo said. “Do you happen to know who owned the house before you?”

  “Yeah, my mom’s old cousin, Jack.” Brent shrugged. “Why?”

  Leo was saved from having to explain because, as they entered Caroline’s front yard, the door burst open and Tricia and Mai ran out to greet them.

  “I told you the trail was getting brighter,” Tricia said. “They’re here!”

  “You made it.” Mai smiled. “We ended up catching Old Jack in about ten minutes.”

  “Although we did have to help with a bit of unfinished business,” Tricia held her hands close to Leo’s face, showing off nails lined with fresh dirt and smelling like crumpled leaves.

  “That was y’all in my yard?” Brent narrowed his eyes. “What did you do that for?”

  “We were trying to get Old Jack to come inside,” Mai explained. “But he wanted to finish planting, and he had already dug a bunch of holes anyway. We figured it would be worse to not fill them.”

  Brent looked unconvinced, but he shrugged and followed Tricia and Mai back into Caroline’s house. “I guess I can tell my mom I had a . . . bolt of inspiration and planted them myself. Maybe it could be a good biology and ecology experiment.”

  “I saw my grandma!” Tricia whispered excitedly, pulling Leo back as the rest of the group entered the house. “She’s really actually here. This is amazing.”

  Abuela and Mrs. Morales stood in the entryway, chatting with Mr. Nguyen, all their lines glowing bright orange.

  “Where’s Mr. Pérez?” Leo asked. “Did you find him?” She saw at least one or two golden trails stretching away from the living room, but with so many
spirits together, it was hard to tell if it belonged to one of the spirits in the house.

  “They found me,” a voice called from the kitchen. Mr. Pérez smiled out the doorway. “I’m in here making eggs for some hungry gardeners.”

  “Yes!” Tricia and Mai skipped into the kitchen.

  “Do the rest of you ghost hunters want some?” he asked.

  “No, thank you,” Leo said, at the same time Brent took off running toward the food, with Mayor Rose following him at a slower but no less enthusiastic pace.

  “Is Mr. Pérez okay?” Leo whispered to Abuela. “He didn’t get to finish what he came here for, did he?” She thought of how sad Mayor Rose had been before she had somehow convinced him that the future of Rose Hill politics was secure. Mr. Pérez’s cheeriness made Leo suspicious, like maybe he would try to run away again when no one was looking.

  “He’s fine,” Mrs. Morales said. “Don’t worry.”

  “But his sister moved away . . . ,” Leo said.

  “We found them at the public library,” Abuela said.

  “He planned to use the pay phones outside to call his sister, but we discovered they had all been removed since we were alive.” Mrs. Morales shook her head. “Technology. But that’s when a librarian found us outside, and after we told her what we were trying to do, she suggested we use the computers to send an email!”

  Uh-oh. “You didn’t let him, did you?” Leo asked. It would be bad enough to appear in front of a family member who knew you were a ghost. They could get upset, or scared. But at least they wouldn’t have any proof. Sending an email would be evidence of magic that broke the boundary between life and death. Leo imagined news reporters and cameras flooding Rose Hill, strangers digging into everyone’s business. There was a benefit to keeping the secret, at least from getting out to the whole entire world.

  “Cálmate.” Abuela put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “He didn’t do it.”

  “He googled her instead,” Mrs. Morales said. “She moved to Wisconsin with her wife. She writes poetry and publishes it online—he got to read some! She’s happy. And that’s all he really needed to know.”

  Leo leaned to look through the door of the kitchen. Mr. Pérez whistled as he scrambled eggs in the frying pan. “Good. That’s good.” She ticked spirits off on her fingers. Mr. Pérez, Old Jack, Mayor Rose, Mr. Nguyen, Mrs. Morales. Even Abuela, mostly. “That’s everyone, isn’t it?” she asked. “No more unfinished business?”

  Abuela nodded. “I talked to your sister when we got here. Had to explain why a bunch of your little friends were showing up with spirits in tow. Now if only we can get back to el Otro Lado before we fade away, I’d say this was a pretty successful crossing of the veil.”

  Leo wasn’t so sure about that. The spirits had caused an awful lot of trouble while they were here. But she was glad they wouldn’t be sent back unhappy, wishing for more time to fix things. And this was what Caroline’s magic was supposed to do.

  Did that mean it was good they had crossed?

  It was all too confusing, and Leo couldn’t even begin to think about it until the spirits were out of danger. “Where is Caroline?” she asked. “How’s the spell coming along?”

  “Over here, Leo.” Tía Paloma beckoned from the hallway. “We need to talk.”

  She looked stern, and Leo’s stomach somersaulted as she remembered that, Abuela’s pep talk aside, she hadn’t asked her family’s advice or permission before telling her friends about magic.

  “Coming,” she said, shooting a nervous look around the room. “Am I in trouble?” she whispered to Abuela.

  Her grandmother shrugged, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. “One way to find out.”

  Leo groaned and walked into the dark hallway.

  CHAPTER 16

  A SECRET PROMISE

  The smell of eggs and the glow of golden light faded as Leo entered the hallway, replaced by the sharp scent of herbs she should probably recognize and the flickering of candles. She followed her nose into Caroline’s room, where Isabel sat cross-legged on the bed, a thick book in her lap and a frown on her face. Brown candles—for understanding, research, concentration—clustered on top of the dresser.

  “Um, hi,” Leo said. “How’s it going?”

  Caroline’s face popped up from behind the bed like a prairie dog. Her bangs stuck to her forehead, and a crease stayed between her eyes even as her mouth tilted into an almost-smile.

  “Hi, Leo. I think your aunt wanted you next door. We’re kind of busy, planning the portal-opening spell.”

  Leo nodded, looking from her friend to her sister to the thick fog of burning rosemary for more concentration and clarity. “You’ve figured it out, though?” she asked. “You’re going to be able to start soon?”

  Isabel looked up from her book, scowling. “We’re doing our best, Leo. There isn’t a whole lot of information on how to open a portal to el Otro Lado, because it’s a terribly dangerous thing to do! We’re trying to isolate the part that opens the veil without dealing with the really nasty spirit-summoning parts, but most of the books we really need are restricted by the Southwest Regional Brujería and Spellcraft Association. Would you please just go find Tía Paloma? I think she has a project for you; she’s been acting weird.”

  “Okay, okay.” Leo held up her hands and continued down the hall. “Tía Paloma?”

  “In here,” a voice called, though it didn’t sound like her tía. Leo followed it to the TV room, which used to be Mr. and Mrs. Campbell’s bedroom before all the changes. Tía Paloma sat facing Leo on the couch in the center of the room. All the lights were off, and two tiny votive candles sat in the middle of the carpet, flames dancing and reflecting in Tía Paloma’s eyes until they looked almost as white as the candle wax. Leo rubbed her eyes. In the dim light, the orange trails of all the spirits crisscrossed brightly across her vision, wiggling as their owners moved around the house. One trail even looked like it led straight to Tía Paloma, but that couldn’t be right—her aunt wasn’t a spirit.

  “Close the door, please,” Tía Paloma said. Her voice still sounded odd, flat and empty of feeling. Leo knew her aunt’s anger, how it escaped in wild hand gestures and restless movement and fast sentences. She didn’t recognize this emptiness.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is this about my friends? I had a good reason to tell them—”

  “Leo Logroño,” Tía Paloma said. “I need to tell you something very important.”

  “You do?” Leo cocked her head, trying to see past the flickering candles to make sense of her aunt’s behavior.

  Once Leo had signed Tía Paloma’s birthday card as “Leo Logroño” and her family had laughed at her for the rest of the night. “Believe me,” Tía Paloma had said, “I know which Leo you are.” So why was she using Leo’s last name to address her now?

  “First I need your promise.” Tía Paloma held up one hand. “You have to agree that you won’t tell Caroline. Swear it.”

  Leo’s mouth flew open and her eyebrows arched. “What? No! Caroline is part of this. She deserves to know everything that’s going on—she has to know, so she can fix it all. Besides, I’m not keeping secrets from my friends anymore. Abuela even said I don’t have to. And you’re acting really weird. You should just tell me whatever it is so that we can all work it out together!”

  Instead of getting angry or arguing, Tía Paloma stared straight ahead, the corners of her mouth lifting into just the hint of a smile.

  “You’re a good friend,” she said. “But will you give me a chance to explain, at least? Promise you’ll hear me out—all the way out—before you call Caroline in here?”

  Leo hesitated. This whole conversation was wrong, and she felt like she was missing the meaning of everything Tía Paloma said. She searched her aunt’s words for some trick or trap, but when she couldn’t find one, she eventually shrugged. “Okay, I guess. What do you have to tell me?”

  Tía Paloma’s smile went slack. Something shimmered in the air
around her, and the orange trail closest to her pulsed. A figure rose from behind the couch, standing up so that its face loomed above Tía Paloma’s. It was a face Leo recognized, even if she hadn’t seen it in more than a year. The woman was younger now, about the age she was in the picture frame next to Caroline’s bed. She had the same round cheeks as Caroline, and the same pointed chin.

  Mrs. Campbell was the seventh spirit.

  “Caroline!” Leo hissed, her promise forgotten in an instant. Her shocked voice didn’t reach above a whisper, so she cleared her throat to try again.

  “Leo, please.” Tía Paloma and Mrs. Campbell both spoke, their hands rising at the same time to reach for her. “You promised.”

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Leo said. “You’re here, but you didn’t tell anyone? Caroline started this whole spell for you and you just—don’t you want to see her?” She watched Mrs. Campbell’s face fall, the sadness mirrored in Tía Paloma’s expression. “And what did you do to my tía?”

  “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Campbell said. Tía Paloma spoke along with the spirit and held out one hand, mimicking her gesture. “I know I have a lot to answer, but I can explain everything. First of all, your aunt is fine. She’s just channeling me, which creates a unique effect when I also exist on the corporeal plane.”

  “Um.” Leo tilted her head. Mrs. Campbell, like Caroline, talked like she had swallowed a dictionary. “Okay.” Leo had seen Alma and Belén channel ghosts before, speaking for them in the messenger tent on Día de los Muertos. Tía Paloma might get worn out if she channeled a spirit for too long, but she would recover just fine. “But why is she channeling you?”

  Tía Paloma and Mrs. Campbell sighed. “Caroline told her that there might still be one more spirit running around here in the world of the living. Your aunt cast a spell to connect with that spirit, using her own birth talent. It started to work, and she was about to discover that I was here hiding and I . . . well, I panicked. I possessed her so that she couldn’t give me away. It seems that possession works equally well whether the spirit is incorporeal—without a body—or corporeal.”