by Shelly Brown
“Of course, baby.”
“No, you may not, young lady.”
Fortunately, my mother grabbed me in a hug and walked me up to my room. The children followed. I got ready for bed quickly and jumped into my bed hauling my backpack with me. After all was said and done, Mrs. Freeman wouldn’t accept “taking care of ghost kids” as an excuse for not getting my homework done.
As I pulled out my notebook and pencil, Ruby and Henry jumped into bed beside me. Patrick came around the other side. It was squishy but they were being sweet so I let them stay. Ruby took my pencil from my hand and drew on my open notebook. I almost stopped her but then I looked at what she drew.
Tombstones?
Judging by the crosses on the top they were her parent’s tombstones.
“Your parent’s graves?” I said and she nodded while X-ing them out.
“They’re not really your parents?” I guessed.
Ruby shook her head. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Then she started drawing the big circle heads that she drew last time, three of them. Then with the pencil she dragged a line from the circles to the tombstones.
“Are you guys buried there, too?”
Ruby looked up with big eyes and a huge smile. I was on the right trail. Then she shook her head, no. Maybe I was off.
“Do you want to be buried there?”
Just then my lights flicked off and the notebook was thrown across the room.
I looked to Ruby, wondering why she threw the notebook, but she had buried herself under the blanket. The room was way too hot for a blanket, unseasonably hot for a September night. All of it was making me angry. No, that wasn’t what was making me angry.
Maybe it wasn’t my anger I was feeling.
All three kids were shaking under the blanket and one of them kept screaming.
Then I saw her.
Leaning over the foot of my bed was Lisette.
In my room!
The image was brief, but it was horrifying. I’d never seen such hatred on a face in my life.
Then she was gone.
Again.
The heat wasn’t going away. The intense anger was lingering. She wasn’t gone. She was still here. Somewhere.
I jumped out of bed and ran for the sage. Who cares what Jessica was going to say? She didn’t have a freaky scary ghost lady at the foot of her bed filling her with awful feelings.
I opened the bag and lit the sage.
My heart beat something fierce and I was a little sloppy with the ash as the herb burnt down.
Doing things out of order, I sealed the under part of my door with a bathrobe and shut my blinds.
I could still feel her.
She was still there.
I chanted aloud:
“And when the sky begins to roar
It’s like a lion at the door
And when the door begins to crack
It’s like a stick across your back”
The anger subsided. It was working.
Closing my eyes I could breathe in the sage and chill out. My hands stopped shaking and my pulse slowed down. I was going to be okay.
“And when your back begins to smart
It’s like a penknife in your heart”
The anger was gone.
I slowly opened my eyes looking at my bed and saw the last shadows of the children as they faded away.
“No!”
What had I done?
Chapter 29
Meanwhile Back at the Hacienda
Justin
My sisters were driving me crazy. Apparently I was going to have extra chores for coming in late so many times. Hannah lectured me, but I had a hard time hearing her because my head couldn’t let go of the idea that I needed to get to my room as soon as possible.
They stood there. Next to them.
As if to say, that I robbed them of their parents.
Of Hannah’s independence.
Of Kori’s security.
Of Hannah’s childhood.
Of Kori’s accountability.
I ran to my room, shut the door and pulled out the mostly burnt bundle of sage. My hand shook while I tried to light the match and I ended up breaking it.
My parents had followed me but I refused to look at them.
Taking a deep breath I started again.
It took a while for the sage to light, but when I saw the flame start on the dry herb I felt my breath start to steady. Relief. I was going to make it. I just needed to get rid of them.
I blew out the flame and let the smoke rise as the sage smoldered.
It would just be minutes and then I could curl up in bed and pretend like today didn’t happen.
A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds
And when the weeds begin to grow
It’s like a garden full of snow
A hand touched the top of my head and I batted it away.
I didn’t want to be touched. It used to petrify me when I was smaller.
I held the sage out in the direction that they were standing. They backed away. I just needed to be patient. The smoke would fill the room and then I would be all alone again.
And when the snow begins to fall
It’s like a bird upon the wall
And when the bird away does fly
It’s like an eagle in the sky
I’m not sure what possessed me to do so, but I looked at them.
Sad eyes. Standing there, silently, holding hands. Unified in their disappointment. I could imagine what they were thinking.
“Why did we die and you lived?”
“This is the price you pay for your selfishness.”
Then slowly they disappeared.
I climbed into bed, pulled the blanket over me, and looked at the spot they disappeared from. It was funny how blankets felt like some sort of force field, like shields against every kind of danger. It was the softest lie I ever believed.
And when your heart begins to bleed
You’re dead, and dead, and dead indeed.
I was about to start the poem over again when I heard my phone vibrate on my desk. Pulling the blanket in taut, I carried it over and looked at the small screen.
Tiffany.
Help.
I growled.
Not again. Every time I got close to feeling safe, Tiffany had to drag my butt out of my room on some emergency.
I ignored it. I wasn’t strong enough to see them again. She was just going to have to make due.
Glancing at my shut blinds I felt a shot of guilt to my gut. Tiffany needed help.
But I couldn’t do it. I had already had one breakdown that day—I didn’t want to make it two. I crawled back onto my bed. She would have to figure out how to solve it herself; I gave her all of the tools. I closed my eyes and started the poem in the familiar rhythmic way that lulls me to sleep.
A man of words and not of deeds . . .
Ding-dong.
My eyes popped open.
Without moving and hardly breathing, I listened. The front door opened, and I could hear my sisters talking then a pair of feet pounding up the stairs.
The door! I had forgotten to lock my door.
It opened wide as Kori burst into the room. “You’re in bed already?” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Dang, that’s strong stuff. Tiffany Hart’s downstairs to see you.” She gave me a look that said, So get out of bed! Then she turned and walked right through our parents on her way out. She saw nothing. They still liked her, I could tell. There was a peaceful expression on my mother’s face. After she watched Kori walk down the hall and out of sight, she turned her face to me and the peaceful look was gone. She was perturbed, irritated, upset, sad. I was never really good
at reading faces, but I knew the difference between love and hate.
I covered my face with my hands and blindly felt my way out the door. Once I was sure I passed them, I opened my hands just enough to block out my peripheral vision and followed the carpet along the hall and down the stairs. Since they were silent, sometimes I was able to pretend they weren’t there and that helped a little.
“Justin!” I heard Tiffany before I could see her. “I lost them.” Her voice was cracking. “She’s got them. I just know she does.”
I brought my hands down. She looked desperate. Her eyes pleading, her hands outstretched. It was worse than I thought.
“Who has who?” Hannah asked curious from the couch.
“How?” I ignored my sister’s question. “What do we do?”
Tiffany whispered, unsure, “Go get them.”
Oh no. I grabbed my shoes and coat. “I’m going over to Tiffany’s”
Hannah perked up. “You can’t leave this late!”
But I left anyways, shutting the door behind us, and walking in the street again.
Tiffany moved really fast. She took her inhaler out of her pocket and gave a few pumps but didn’t slow down her pace. “Are you going to be in trouble with your sisters? My parents would kill me if they knew I was out at this hour on a school night.”
Her parents would kill her. I chuckled at the irony. Mine were following me at that very moment just to torment me.
“What’s so funny? I’m being serious. Sometimes I wish that I lived at your house with two sisters and no rules and stuff.”
It was so cold out that I could feel the heat radiating off my chest. “We have rules and we have a lot more chores than you do.”
“Yeah, but you can do a lot more things than I can. Like you can actually cook.” She shoved her hands deep in her pocket. That’s when I noticed she didn’t bring a coat again. I slipped my windbreaker off, struggling a little with the sleeves,
We turned on G Street. “Are we walking all the way back to the Hacienda?”
Tiffany nodded. “Justin, Lisette was in my room.”
“What?” My parents were the only ghosts who ever went in my house. For a minute I wondered if Tiffany had an over active imagination. Then I remembered other stories I had read about ghosts. “Maybe she followed you home.”
“She followed the kids. She wanted the kids.” Tiffany started running. She probably didn’t feel safe walking this part of town after dark. I didn’t blame her. We passed a few people getting in and out of cars, going in and out of shops, and they weren’t the type I’d ask to hold my wallet for me.
“She wanted them and she got them,” Tiffany said. “I gave them to her. I’m such a fool.”
Running felt really good. As long as I moved at a steady clip, my parents stayed behind and I didn’t see them as much. There were a few moments where they stole into my line of vision and my stomach would tighten. So I just ran faster.
Tiffany, out of breath, slowed down and I matched her speed. She was actually getting better at running. Other than her labored breathing, she made her way silently down the sidewalk, tucked snuggly into my windbreaker.
“Do you see those two teenage guys up ahead?” she whispered over her shoulder.
I tried to look in the direction I thought she’s indicating. “I don’t see anybody?”
“They’re ghosts,” she said as if that would make them magically appear to me. “You really don’t see them?”
I shook my head. “Why do you think it is we don’t see the same ghosts?”
She looked both ways up the dark street before crossing it; I assumed to get away from the ghosts she mentioned. “We both saw the White Witch and we both saw Lisette.”
“But, like, behind us . . .” I pointed with my finger, I had already seen them cross the street with us. “You don’t see the ghosts following us, do you?”
Her eyes got big and she sped up slightly. “Following us? Why?”
“Me. They’re following me.” We were entering the intersection again. I wasn’t going to cry this time. I was going to keep it together.
She looked worried. “Ghosts follow you? Like all of the time?”
“Nope. Just on Wednesdays.”
Her look of worry gave way to amusement. “Just on Wednesdays?”
It did sound kind of funny. “Yep, Wednesdays.” And I laughed a little and so did she. And we both laughed until we were all the way through the intersection and moving away from it.
Tiffany started running again. “She is so dead!” she yelled as she ran.
Assuming she was talking about Lisette I reminded her, “She already died nearly a century ago.”
“You know what I mean,” Tiffany said as we reached the Hacienda. The restaurant was still hopping. All of the windows glowed yellow and laughter and talking spilled out the doors.
Tiffany stopped. “They’re here. Oh my gosh, do you see all of them?”
I looked behind the restaurant at the grassy spot, but I only saw one.
Peeking out from behind a tree glowed the grey face of Lisette Hurtado, with a wicked evil glare.
Chapter 30
The Long Wispy Trail
Tiffany
It was a party. A very sad, boring party.
There were somewhere around thirty kids, of various ages, standing in the exact same place we had found the Pettersen kids earlier that day. All of them ghosts. I had never seen so many in one place before. I scanned the faces for three I might recognize, finding Patrick first.
I ran across the street. “There you are!”
A wave of anger swept over me and I saw Lisette step out from behind one of the trees. The anger was overpowering . . . but different. My fear was gone. Mingled in there somewhere was . . . more anger.
My anger.
Bubbling up into a frenzy was a mama bear about to attack. Seriously, like girl fight, hair-pulling, claw-scratching attack. I had no idea if it would work on a ghost, but I was ready to find out. “You can’t have them anymore. They don’t belong here. They were adopted, remember?”
Lisette threw back her head and laughed a shrill scream.
It was impressively effective for knocking the bejeebers out of me, but still there was a fire lit that wasn’t going away. I made my way up to Patrick and found Ruby with Henry behind him. “Come with me, guys,” I said reaching my arms out to take the baby but before I was able to touch Henry, Lisette flew between us. Just inches from my face she screamed. The sound shook my bones.
Literally.
And her breath was hot. Fireplace hot.
I checked to make sure that my eyebrows weren’t singed off. (They were still there.)
Unfortunately for her all it did was make me want to slap her. Calmly I said, “Girlfriend, you’re loud,” and waved my arm in front of my face to make Lisette go away. But instead of dismissing the ghost my hand hit something solid.
I had slapped a ghost.
I’m not even sure how it happened, but that very moment I found myself thrown seven feet backwards, landing hard on my back
I saw blue and white lights behind my lids and when I opened my eyes, Justin was standing beside me, asking if I was okay. Once on my feet he took a couple of steps towards Lisette, challenging her without saying a word.
“What are you?” Justin asked the woman. “Picking on kids and screaming at my friend? Are you some sort of ghost coward?” He moved from side to side, ready to dodge any attack. Lisette seemed confused, moving towards Justin and then back.
He was distracting her.
I got up and Ruby handed me Henry. Patrick ran to my side. We had to get out of here.
I started to run, but then I stopped.
Maybe there was a little more mama bear in me.
“Justin,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
<
br /> Resolved to show no fear, I turned my back on Lisette and walked away. No matter how much I wanted to run, I walked. Clearly she was capable of hurting me, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, she didn’t want me to have those children, but I wanted to tell her something and I could only do it by walking with my chin up.
Ruby kept looking behind us, but I stayed strong. Justin caught up to us right about when a warm wind whipped my hair and a bellow of a scream filled the air with this loud pounding sound. I couldn’t stop myself from looking. Lisette was slamming her fists into the wall of the Hacienda. I also saw that Ruby and Patrick weren’t the only grey children following us. In a long wispy line, all of the others trailed along.
Like I was the pied-flippin’-piper of dead kids.
Justin started running so I followed. Some guy came out of the restaurant yelling at us for hitting the building but we didn’t stop to explain that it wasn’t us but some creepy ghost who lived in their backyard.
The screaming kept us running for an entire block. I made the mistake of checking to see that the kids were keeping up. They were doing fine, but all of those semitransparent bodies sporadically blinking in and out as they moved messed with my eyes.
As my feet hit the concrete, I realized that if Lisette decided to throw me again, between the brick buildings, asphalt road, and hard sidewalk, I wouldn’t fare well. An icky shiver went up my spine and I ran faster.
When the screaming stopped we didn’t slow down, but with just our footfall and our panting, the world felt eerily quiet.
Justin stopped running first. “I don’t see her, do you?”
I turned around and gasped. Sad-eyed and olden-time dressed, something close to thirty faces looked at me. Some stood holding hands with others, some looked terribly lonely, and some were so skinny I thought hunger must have killed them. An older boy took off his cap and scratched his messy hair. How long were they planning on following me? What would I do with all of them?
Justin must have sensed something because he whispered, “What?”
I opened my mouth to speak but found I didn’t seem to have the words to describe what I was looking at. Before either of us said another word, an unexpected chime made us both jump.