We followed her into the living room and she turned on the TV, heading straight to the horror-movie category on cable. “There’s this new movie I want to see about someone who gets trapped in an insane asylum.”
“Great!” said Lulu.
“Sounds perfect,” Sonya agreed.
To be honest, I wasn’t in the mood for a scary movie. I’d had another bad nightmare last night, this one starring the ghost of Margaret. She kept cleaning and cleaning my room, and I couldn’t get her to stop even though I begged and pleaded. This doesn’t sound like such a horrible scenario, I realize, but the Margaret in my dream was translucent and had hollow black spaces for eyes, and she sang this creepy version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”; even just thinking about it later, in the company of my best friends, gave me the goose bumps. But I didn’t want to argue—not when everyone else seemed so excited about the movie.
“Here it is,” said Beatrix. “Onslaught at the Asylum.”
“Sounds pretty gory,” Lulu said with a lot of enthusiasm.
Frozen on the screen was a gaunt and pale young woman with a jagged scar across her face and blood dripping from her ears. Suddenly queasy, I looked away. “You guys want to watch this now?”
“No, let’s set up our sleeping bags first,” said Sonya. “That way I can hide at the scary parts.”
“Brilliant plan,” said Beatrix. “Let’s put on pajamas, too. I’ll go first.”
Beatrix disappeared into her room, and the rest of us set up our sleeping bags on the floor of her den in a semicircle in front of the TV. I made sure to place my sleeping bag in between Beatrix’s and Sonya’s because I didn’t want to be on the edge. Not that I had any reason to be scared, because I know there are no such things as ghosts, but still. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely freaked out being a mere twenty feet away from the Adams mansion—and having seen the “non-existent” ghost.
When Beatrix came back she was wearing pajamas with purple polka dots and flowers. I went next, and changed into my new flannel pj’s that had dogs all over them.
Lulu’s pajamas were leggings and an oversize shirt with a giant owl and the words “Hoo’s Sleepy?” on it. Sonya’s pajamas were red-and-white striped and baggy.
“You look like a gigantic candy cane,” I told her.
“I know. Isn’t it great?” said Sonya, spinning around so we could see her from all angles. “They’re new.”
“Hey, before we watch the movie, let’s play Would You Rather,” said Beatrix.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s this totally fun game I always play with my friends in the city,” said Beatrix. “Basically, you get two options and you have to choose between them.”
“I don’t get it,” said Lulu.
Sonya and I looked at Beatrix with puzzled expressions on our faces. “Neither do I,” I said.
“Okay, then I’ll go first,” said Beatrix. “It’s simple; one person poses an either-or question, and everybody else answers it. Like this: Would you rather kiss your boyfriend or Justin Bieber?”
“My boyfriend, for sure,” said Lulu.
“That’s sweet,” said Beatrix.
“Me, too,” I said, feeling a little weird because I wasn’t exactly positive that I still had a boyfriend, it having been so long since Milo and I had spoken.
“Justin Bieber for me,” said Sonya. “But that’s easy, because I don’t have a boyfriend. Yet. Although Joshua promised he’d share his gingerbread recipe with me. He makes the best.”
“You think Joshua makes the best everything,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Sonya, “because he does. He must have some serious bakers in his family, because everything he’s made for our store is amazing. He always says it’s because it’s a family recipe.”
Lulu turned to Sonya and asked, “Would you rather eat rotten cheese or spend the night in a haunted mansion?”
“Definitely the cheese,” said Sonya.
“But that could make you sick,” Beatrix said.
“I know, but it would be over fast. You can swallow the cheese without even tasting it,” Sonya reasoned.
“It depends on how big the cheese is,” I pointed out.
“How big is the cheese?” Lulu asked Beatrix.
“It’s a five-pound hunk,” Beatrix said, holding her hands apart and frowning at the space between them as if she were actually holding some stinky cheese. “Definitely too big to gulp down.”
“Having actually spent a lot of time in a haunted mansion,” I said, “I’d take the cheese any day. Even if it’s twenty pounds.”
“Ugh, twenty pounds of cheese. It makes me sick just thinking about it,” said Lulu. “How come there’s no third option?”
“Because that’s not how you play the game,” said Beatrix.
“Okay, how about this one,” said Sonya. “What’s scarier? Being trapped in a room filled with spiders or a room filled with snakes?”
“Snakes,” said Lulu. “Because they can eat you alive.”
“I think spiders are scarier,” Beatrix said. “They’re so small they can get anywhere. They can probably crawl through your ears and bite your brain.”
“Yuck!” I yelled. “We need a new topic. What would you rather do: spend five minutes in the boys’ bathroom or go to school with your underwear on the outside of your pants?”
“Underwear!” said Lulu. “As long as I could wear a long jacket so no one could see.”
“That’s cheating,” said Beatrix. “You’d have to see them.”
“Then I choose the boys’ bathroom,” said Lulu. “Then only half the kids at school would see me being mortified.”
“Would you rather suffocate or drown?” asked Beatrix.
“Wow, that’s heavy,” said Sonya.
“Depressing, too,” Lulu agreed. “I’d rather not die at all. How’s that?”
Beatrix rolled her eyes. “We’d all rather not die, but the sad fact remains that we are going to. So if you had to choose, what would it be?”
“I want to die of natural causes in my sleep when I’m a hundred and five years old,” said Lulu.
“That’s not an option,” said Beatrix.
“Fine,” Lulu said. “I’d rather suffocate.”
“Drown,” said Sonya.
Beatrix said, “Me, too. I’d rather drown.” She turned to me and asked, “What about you, Maggie?”
But I wasn’t paying attention anymore. All I could think about was poor Margaret. Suffocating had to be a horrible way to go. How scary would it have been, being trapped in that elevator? I tried to picture the scene, but couldn’t. I’d never even seen the elevator, since it had been boarded up for years.
Were the lights on or was it pitch-black?
Did Margaret know she was going to die, or did she think she’d be rescued?
How long had it taken, and what were her final thoughts?
Did she have any regrets? I mean, besides getting into the elevator to begin with.
She was only nineteen when she died. That’s old compared to me, but young compared to how long most people live.
Margaret was still a teenager when her life ended. I’m twelve and a half now, which means in six and a half years I’ll be nineteen. What if I had only six and a half years to live?
“Are you okay, Maggie?” asked Lulu gently.
“Fine,” I said as I lay down with my head in my hands, staring at the ceiling.
Beatrix, Lulu, and Sonya went back to playing Would You Rather, but I’d had enough.
I flipped over onto my stomach, reached into my overnight bag, and pulled out my Dog-Walking Detective notebook. Then I flipped to an empty page and wrote:
The box of chocolate chips was left in the alleyway between the Adams mansion and Beatrix’s building—the same alleyway where Clementine found her kittens Samoa and Thin Mint.
Coincidence or clue?
I stared at the words until my friends grew tired of their game and tu
rned on the movie.
“You watching?” asked Lulu.
“Yeah,” I said, closing my notebook.
I felt like I had to at least make an effort to watch with them. The problem was, from the very first scene the movie was all blood and guts and gore. Before we got too far into the story (if there was a story beyond all the scary stuff), I told my friends I was exhausted, climbed into my sleeping bag, and closed my eyes. And it turned out I wasn’t faking, either—I fell asleep right away.
I don’t know if they made it through the entire movie, or if they talked after, or played Would You Rather again, or what. All I know is, I was woken up in the middle of the night by a bloodcurdling scream.
I sat up with a start. Sweat poured down my forehead; my pajamas were soaked. And to my surprise, I realized the scream had come from my lips. My throat felt sore and everything.
But not only had I woken myself up, I’d also woken up Lulu, Sonya, and Beatrix. All of my friends stared at me, sleepy and alarmed.
“What’s going on?” asked Beatrix, hopping out of her sleeping bag and pushing her hair out of her eyes to stare at me. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “I just had a nightmare.”
“Some nightmare,” Lulu said with a yawn. “I’ve never heard anyone scream like that.”
“I know,” said Sonya. “My heart is racing, like, a million miles a minute.”
“Mine, too,” I said. “Sorry.”
“What happened?” asked Lulu.
“I have no idea,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I honestly can’t remember.”
Beatrix stood up and stretched. “I’m going to check on my mom, make sure she didn’t hear.”
“Was I that loud?” I asked.
Beatrix nodded.
I turned to Lulu and Sonya. “Really?”
They stared at me with sympathy, as if they wanted to say no but couldn’t.
“Was it Margaret again?”
“I think so,” I said.
“It’s like she’s haunting you from the grave,” said Sonya.
“Let’s not talk about graves,” I said. “That totally creeps me out.”
“Why?” teased Lulu. “I thought you didn’t even believe in ghosts.”
“I don’t.”
“I do,” said Sonya. “I saw my great-grandmother once. Like, right after she died.”
“You mean you saw her dead body?” asked Beatrix, coming back into the room and sitting down cross-legged on top of her sleeping bag.
“Did I wake your mom up?” I asked.
“Nope. She’s snoring away.”
“Good,” I said.
“I saw her ghost,” said Sonya.
“Whose ghost?” asked Beatrix.
“My great-grandma’s, but you guys can’t tell anyone.”
“What do you mean, you saw a ghost?” I asked. Up until now I’d honestly assumed Sonya was kidding around.
But her serious expression told me this was no joke. She sat up, crossed her legs, and told us the whole story. “So, my great-grandma was really old and living in Bangladesh; I hadn’t seen her since I was a kid. And my mom was saying how we should really take a trip out there to visit with her before she died. I said, ‘I really want to go see her, too. Before it’s too late.’ And my mom said, ‘I’ll make the phone call tomorrow and look into tickets.’”
We all nodded, totally entranced by the story.
Sonya took a deep breath before continuing. “And before I went to bed that night, I was brushing my teeth and saw this old woman in the mirror staring back at me. It was my great-grandma. I could tell because of her pink-and-gold sari. She waved to me and smiled, and then I blinked and she was gone, but I swear I saw her. I didn’t really believe my eyes, though. So I went to sleep. But then the next morning I went downstairs, and my mom was sitting at the table with tears in her eyes. I asked what was wrong, and she said my great-grandma had died the night before.”
I felt chills run up and down my spine.
“No way!” said Lulu.
Sonya’s eyes were wide. “I’m dead serious. I started crying. Things got way intense and emotional. My mom thought I was just sad because I’d never get to see my great-grandma again, but I was actually kind of freaked out. I told her why, and that’s when my mom sat me down and told me that the same thing had happened to her.”
“She saw your great-grandma in the mirror?” asked Beatrix.
“Nope.” Sonya shook her head. “She saw her in the bedroom right before she was going to bed. She was wearing her famous pink-and-gold sari, and she waved to my mom and said, ‘Good night.’ But don’t tell my mom I told you; she said we should keep it to ourselves because people wouldn’t understand.”
“I believe you,” said Beatrix. “Because the same thing happened to me, kind of. What I mean is, sometimes I see my grandfather on the subway. And he died three years ago.”
“Wait,” I said, interrupting. “Don’t you mean you think you see your grandfather, but really you see some old dude who looks like he did?”
Beatrix smiled at me. “I thought it was that at first, but I know it’s his spirit because I can feel it. And also, on the day that he died, before I found out about it, even, I remember feeling this intense pain in my chest—like something was piercing my heart. And later I found out my grandfather had died of a heart attack.”
“That’s weird,” I said. “But it doesn’t sound like a ghost.”
“I think we had this supernatural connection,” said Beatrix. “Some of the people who have his spirit don’t even look like him. Sometimes it’s an old woman, and once it was a little boy, but I could see it in his eyes. My grandpa Mike.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want to talk about dead people anymore; the whole conversation left me feeling entirely unsettled.
“Hey, look,” I said. “The sun is rising.”
Everyone peered out the window. The sun crept up slowly, illuminating the quiet streets. The sidewalks were damp, which was funny because I hadn’t even noticed it had been raining.
“Who wants to play Truth or Dare?” asked Beatrix.
“Me!” Sonya clapped. “I’ll go first.” She looked at Beatrix and asked, “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth,” said Beatrix.
“Why haven’t you been to Sonya’s Sweets?” Sonya asked.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to play,” said Beatrix, getting up and turning on the TV. “You’re supposed to ask questions like, ‘Have you ever kissed a boy?’ or ‘Have you ever cheated on a test?’”
“But we already know the answer to that,” said Sonya. “You’ve kissed two boys.”
“Okay, true. But you don’t know whether I’ve ever cheated on a test,” said Beatrix.
“Yeah—and I don’t want to know that,” said Sonya. “I want to know why you’re avoiding my mom’s new soda fountain. And why you didn’t even try any of the cookies I brought over. We baked them especially for you.”
“Ever since your mom opened up that store, it’s all you can talk about,” said Beatrix.
“Well, yeah,” said Sonya. “That’s because it’s super exciting. And it’s only been open for two weeks.”
“Exactly,” said Beatrix. “It’s only been open for two weeks, and I’ve been busy. I’m totally planning on coming soon, but I haven’t had the time.”
“I’ll bet another week will go by and you won’t come,” said Sonya. “And if you wait another week after that, we may not even be there. She’s only going to give it a little more time before she shuts it down—unless Maggie can get to the bottom of things before then.”
“No pressure,” I joked.
“Oh, there’s a ton of pressure,” said Sonya.
“I was kidding,” I said. “You know—sarcasm?”
“Right,” said Sonya. “Of course. Sorry I missed that.”
Beatrix sat back down on her sleeping bag and placed her pillow in her lap. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you why
I haven’t been to Sonya’s Sweets and why I didn’t get a birthday cake and why I can’t have your cookies, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“Tell anyone what?” asked Sonya.
“Do you swear you won’t tell?” asked Beatrix. “All of you?”
“Of course,” Lulu agreed, as did the rest of us.
“What is it?” I asked, getting nervous.
“I’m borderline diabetic,” said Beatrix. “That means I have to be super careful about what I eat, because if I’m not, I’ll actually become diabetic, and that means taking lots of medication. And if anyone outside of this room finds out, I’m going to be furious.”
“My grandma has diabetes,” said Lulu. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is, it’s a grandma disease,” said Beatrix. “Except I have it, and there’s no cure. I’m not supposed to have a lot of sweets. I always have to check my blood for my sugar levels, and if I go overboard, I could get really sick. That’s what my doctor says, anyway.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Sonya. “I thought you were avoiding the shop because you didn’t like me anymore.”
“That’s crazy! This has nothing to do with you. It’s just hard, because I love all kinds of sweets, and I’ve never even had to think about what I ate before now. And I don’t want to be surrounded by food I’m not allowed to have.”
“Now I feel bad,” said Sonya.
“Don’t feel bad. You had no way of knowing,” said Beatrix. “Let’s just not talk about it anymore. Do you all promise not to say anything?”
“Of course,” said Sonya. “And I’m so sorry if I was putting too much pressure on you. I had no idea.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Beatrix. “Just don’t mention anything. Any of you.”
“We won’t,” I said.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Lulu promised.
“Good. Now let’s keep playing,” said Beatrix. “Who’s going next?”
“Oh, I have a good one for Maggie,” said Sonya, turning to me. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare,” I said.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d pick! I dare you to go to the lobby of the building and sit there for thirty seconds,” said Sonya, breaking out in a huge grin. “In your pajamas.”
Secrets at the Chocolate Mansion Page 13