“I have lots of problems with him,” Pumpkin said, “especially with knocking on my walls at night when I’m trying to sleep.” He scowled at the tommyknocker’s shenanigans, and then his face softened. “But he’s just so cute.”
May followed him a few steps forward, then paused. Before them was a white house, rambling and crooked. It took May’s breath away.
“It’s …”
“I had them make a replica,” Pumpkin said, sighing. “Do you like it?”
“Pumpkin,” May breathed, taking it in. A lump of homesickness formed in her throat. “Why?”
The house was an exact duplicate of White Moss Manor: its wide front porch, its dark windows, even its sagging lines. Pumpkin didn’t answer May’s question; he only led her up the stairs to the porch and through the front door.
“Of course, I had to make a few adjustments,” Pumpkin said, flicking a switch so that a disco ball descended just in front of them, multicolored lights spinning across their faces.
They floated into what would have been the foyer. It was actually a huge room, full of gleaming but yellowed white vinyl furniture and bone white carpet stained all over. Video games lined one wall, with names like Tomb Escape, Zombies on Ice, and Invasion of the Exorcists. There was a foosball table in the corner, a trampoline, and giant art prints of Pumpkin everywhere. The walls, covered in gold lamé, were dominated by awards cases and seventeen huge Silver Spook awards.
He led her into another room, full of bubbles coming from a built-in bubble machine in the ceiling. Here there were four Slurpy Soda machines and chairs made of glassed-in fish tanks with mechanical piranhas swimming about inside. “That’s imported mummy gauze.” Pumpkin pointed to the tattered curtains. The windows afforded a million-dollar view of Night on Banshee Mountain.
He looked at May eagerly, expectantly. “It’s … really great.” May tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. It was a little over the top for her.
Pumpkin grinned hugely. He motioned for her to sit down in one of the piranha chairs, and then he sat on her lap, cuddling Kitty close in his arms until the cat finally leaped down. May could feel the piranhas trying to nibble her rear through the upholstery. Somber Kitty swatted at them from the floor.
“So …,” May said.
“So …,” Pumpkin said, swinging his legs, as if to say, So what?.
“You were going tell me,” May ventured softly, “where are the others?”
“Yep.” Pumpkin nodded, still bright, his eyes wide and vacant, as if he was trying to process what he was about to say. And then he flopped over, burying his head in his arms on May’s lap.
“First they rnnnghehrererere,” he cried. May shifted, alarmed, and tried to keep his elbows from digging into her legs.
“Pumpkin?”
He sat up and sniffled. “And then, and then they …” He sniffled again and flopped back down. “Mmnnererereggggueruereureggguguug! Waahhbblebleelbe.”
His tears soaked right through May’s pajama pants. “Pumpkin.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Pumpkin sat up, gasping. He rubbed his nose holes with the shredded cuff of his sleeve. This was why he had wanted to talk in private, May now realized. He flopped over again. Finally she gave in to just scratching his back and letting him cry, letting him take all the time he needed. Eventually he recovered himself and began to talk in sniffly low tones.
“What happened?” May asked tremulously. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer.
Pumpkin gathered himself slowly and began his story.
“After you left, and we got out of South Place okay, we split up for a while. Beatrice and her mom went to live with the Colony of the Undead, and Fabbio went with them. Lucius went off exploring the realm. I went back to Belle Morte.” Pumpkin swallowed.
“When I got back to Beehive House, there was a parchment posted on the door saying I’d been stripped of haunting duties.” Pumpkin looked like he was staring right through the floor, sadly. “I couldn’t come haunt your house anymore.”
“After that I was pretty depressed. I just lolled around without much purpose, doing my chores for Arista. I watched a lot of daytime TV, took up crochet, was really bad at it.” He pulled a very poorly crocheted scarf out from underneath his tattered shirt and flashed it at her. “But the weird thing was, sometimes in town, spirits would ask for my autograph. I didn’t know why at first, but then I’d go to a restaurant and people would ask me to sing, and eventually it came out that a bunch of spirits had heard of me.” Pumpkin brightened. “It was those goblins we sang for, up by the Petrified Pass, spreading the word. Telling everyone about this spectacular talent I have.” He shook his head, amazed with himself.
Kitty let out a sigh and looked at May. “Pumpkin,” May prodded gently.
Pumpkin blinked back to reality and cleared his throat. “Well, I started doing small gigs in Belle Morte, but the shows were sold out immediately.” He sighed theatrically. “You know how that goes. So I got a manager, and he said I should move to Ether, where theater was really happening.”
“I saw your flyer!” May interjected.
“I’ve had a good run,” Pumpkin replied casually. But then he leaned his chin onto his fist. “Was it my good side? How many did you see?”
“Pumpkin, the others …”
Pumpkin sat up. “Right. Well, turns out Lucius was there now too, with Fabbio and Beatrice, who’d left Isabella with the Colony for safekeeping. Seems they felt useless, hiding out up at the Colony. We got a loft together in Glow-So. Beatrice took in mending. Fabbio frequented the cafés and worked on his poetry. Lucius … well … liked to put our underwear in the freezer. And then …” Pumpkin’s spooky face took on a haunted look.
“Pumpkin, what happened?”
Pumpkin stared off into space. “The dark spirits took over. More and more arrived every day. They started taking ghosts away in shackles and replacing all the nice little shops in Ether with chain stores. Horrible, horrible chain stores.” He shook his head. “With the worst, cheapest stuff.”
He looked dazed for a second, then focused again. “We escaped to Belle Morte, but Arista”—Pumpkin’s lips trembled—“was gone. I don’t know where. And I left that message for you in the dust, in case you ever came back.” He gazed off. “We headed north. But not before …”
“What?”
“I saw him once. Bo Cleevil. I mean, really up close. Not like what happened in South Place. He came to watch over the spirits being taken away. You’ll never find me next to him again. Never. It’s like looking at pure emptiness.”
May knew what he meant. She had had more run-ins with Bo Cleevil than any spirit would ever wish. She hoped never to have one again.
“That was about the time Lucius had his idea,” Pumpkin finally went on.
“What idea?”
“To sneak into the World of the Living Research Center in Fiery Fork. He had some ideas he’d read about in ghost stories when he was a kid, and sure enough, one of them turned out to be true. They have a transdimensional phone there they’ve been working on for years.” May felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. “That was when we started calling you for help.”
“Yes!” May nearly shouted. “I got that call! Pumpkin, I heard you! My mom said it was the wires being crossed, but …”
Pumpkin nodded, solemnly. And then May had another thought.
“But Pumpkin, that was only weeks ago! Where are the others? They were here?”
“They spotted us on our way out of the research center,” he said, barely above a whisper, talking to the floor. “The ghouls. We all ran, but they caught the others. I was the only one who got free.” Pumpkin’s shoulders sank, like he wanted to shrink too. “They didn’t bother as much about me. It’s because I’m just a house ghost. They figure I’m harmless.”
May’s heart broke for Pumpkin. He looked sheepish and small, sitting in his special piranha chair. House g
hosts were the lowest of the low in the hierarchy of the Ever After, dimmer than all the rest, their existences full of house chores.
“But I followed them. It didn’t really do any good. But I saw the ghouls load them onto a ship docked on the Dead Sea and set sail. Going northeast, I’m sure, like all the other captured souls. They’re probably thousands of miles away by now.” May reached for his hand, which had flopped down limply at his side. “I couldn’t do anything to save them. I guess I am harmless.”
“That’s okay, Pumpkin. You shouldn’t have been alone like that.” She squeezed his fingers.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Pumpkin said, squeezing back, and then he looked like he wanted to say something more. “But I’m really sorry you … you know …” He made the gesture of a knife across the throat that meant “died.”
May went quiet, plucking at her fingernails.
“What’s your mom gonna do?” he asked.
May shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. Pumpkin put his hand on her shoulder.
“Like sands through the hourglass,” he said solemnly, his own eyes watering, “so are the days of our lives.”
“Oh, Pumpkin,” said May, smiling in spite of herself.
“Hey,” he said, brightening just slightly, putting on a brave face, “you want to see something cool?”
“It was a gift from Queen Elizabeth,” Pumpkin said as they floated through a long hall hung with all sorts of keys, Somber Kitty trailing behind them. “Big fan. She loves musicals.”
“What are all these for?” May asked.
“Oh.” Pumpkin waggled a hand in the air. “Lots of mayors gave me keys to their cities. I’ve got ’em all, Skull Cross, Bogey Bend …”
They drifted past a home movie theater and several parlors, all decorated in different themes: an Arabian Nights room, a Titanic room, a Country & Western room. There was a private telep-a-booth (for sending telepathic messages across the realm) and a room full of gifts Pumpkin had been given by adoring fans: lots of stuffed mummies, dead flowers, two fluorescent pink hearses, a bright orange raft painted with Pumpkin’s face (apparently everyone knew he loved to swim), hundreds of packs of Ghouly Gum …
“What about the Shakespeare Song & Dance Revue?” May asked. Becoming a member of the Shakespeare Song & Dance Revue was Pumpkin’s greatest dream—one he had held for over a hundred years. But Pumpkin stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward her sadly.
“I … I auditioned last year, when they came traveling through Ether.” He nibbled on the edges of his long white fingers thoughtfully. “Everybody said I was a shoe-in. They said they’d call me if I made it, but …”
“Oh, Pumpkin,” May said, lowering her voice respectfully. “They didn’t call? That’s impossible!”
Pumpkin barely had the strength to shake his head. “I guess I just wasn’t Shakespeare caliber.”
May wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. “They don’t know what they’re missing,” she told him.
“Maybe if I had the chance to audition one more time …” Pumpkin’s voice trailed off. They both knew there’d be no more auditions for the Shakespeare Song & Dance Revue anytime soon.
May couldn’t help thinking of her own dreams. They all required being alive. But she and Pumpkin had each other now. That was something.
“I have to keep it in the pool out back,” Pumpkin said, changing the subject and floating forward again.
“What?”
“The gift.”
“Pumpkin, what is it?”
Pumpkin reached the end of the hall and opened a creaky door onto a wilted lawn. May gasped. Swirling, ducking, and diving in the pool was a beautiful glowing woman, with long brown hair and an orange bikini.
“Is that … a water demon?”
Pumpkin laughed. “Nooo. Psssh! Of course not.” He rolled his eyes. “Like I would have a water demon in my pool! She’s a lorelei.” He shrugged. “They lure sailors to their deaths. Distantly related to water demons. Great swimmers, of course. Immune to Dead Sea water, even.”
“Whoa,” May said, staring at the lorelei. She looked too nice to lure sailors to their deaths. She gave May a dazzling white smile.
“Her name’s Mona Lisa. You wanna pet her?”
Reluctantly May followed him down to poolside. The lorelei blew water into the air in a thin arc and floated to the side of the pool, staring at Pumpkin expectantly with big glossy eyes.
“She has pretty eyes, don’t you think?” As the lorelei fluttered her eyelashes at him, Pumpkin blushed. May couldn’t believe it. Pumpkin had fallen in love with a creature that wanted to lure him to his death.
Well, actually, she could believe it. It was almost typical, in fact.
She stared at the lorelei for a long moment, thinking. And then the words shot out of her mouth as fast as they popped into her head.
“Pumpkin, how fast can she swim?”
Chapter Fourteen
Chasing the Hesperius
They were packed within minutes. If the ship carrying Lucius, Beatrice, and Fabbio was still crossing the Dead Sea, they didn’t have a moment to lose.
May filled a knapsack with supplies she’d found around Pumpkin’s mansion: a starlight, a blanket, a compass, a hairbrush (which Pumpkin had insisted on). But when Pumpkin saw the blanket, he shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable.
“You know, spirits don’t get cold.”
May looked at the blanket, taken by surprise. “Right.” She pulled it out of the sack and then laced it over Pumpkin’s shoulders. “We’ll need a place to go after we take over the ship. Somewhere we can dock.”
“We’re gonna take over the ship?” Pumpkin turned paler than the ghostly pale he already was. “Oh dear.”
“I don’t think there’s any other way.”
Pumpkin considered. “Well, there’s Portotown. It’s the seat of the old ghost stories. Word is that Cleevil hasn’t touched it yet, too prestigious—spirits love their celebrities too much. Lots of famous souls. It’s, like, the Hollywood of the dead. But it’s dangerous. It’s close to …” Pumpkin’s voice trailed off. May knew he meant it was too close to the Platte of Despair, and what lay beyond.
She nodded, pulling back her long hair and tying it in a tight knot at the back of her head. “We’ll have to think about it. Meet you back here in five minutes.”
She hurried down the hall to the telep-a-booth and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. An envelope appeared in the air over her head. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate completely, mentally addressing the envelope to the Lady of North Farm. A moment later a piece of paper appeared over her head, awaiting her message.
In desperate need of your help. Stop. Please find us. Stop. May Bird. May looked up in the air. Written on the floating piece of paper were all the words she’d just thought to herself. She crossed her fingers and opened the door of the booth. The message vanished into thin air. She hoped it would find its way.
Pumpkin was sitting with the lorelei, making kissy faces at her. “Hey, cuuuutie,” he murmured. “You are sooo cute.” He looked up at May. “I hope she’s not luring us to our deaths by agreeing to do this.”
Kitty sat in a colorful old van parked beside the pool, ads for the Pit of Despair plastered across its surface. He was ready to go, a giant wooden tub loaded in behind him. Pumpkin had strapped a pair of aviator goggles over his eyes—more likely because it looked stylish than to actually help Kitty at all. Still, Kitty licked his chops gamely, looking like a fearless pilot from the 1940s.
Now they just had to get to the Dead Sea. And hope May’s idea worked.
“THRILLS! CHILLS! SPILLS! KILLS! COME TO THE PIT OF DESPAIR!”
Slowly they wobbled across the desert.
“Is there any way to turn that down?” May yelled to Pumpkin.
“What?!” he called, cupping his hand to his ear.
May peered into the sky nervously. The Pit of Despair-mobile was topped wit
h a loudspeaker that wouldn’t shut off. As if it wasn’t conspicuous enough that they were driving a van covered in animatronic mummies that had a spinning skull with flashing purple eyes for a hood ornament. May was sure vampires would appear in the sky at any moment.
She looked over her shoulder at the lorelei, who sat in her tub, grinning at her ambiguously. May could tell why Pumpkin had named her Mona Lisa.
Only the city of Ether punctuated the horizon to the south—small and far away already, its spires soaring as if it were still the city it had been, though a low, dark sky hung above it and gave it a dim, grungy hue.
May felt a huge wave of relief as they reached the immense shore of the Dead Sea, stretching as far as the eye could see to the north and south. But as they climbed out of the van, fear of its dark waters replaced her fear of the vampires. The treacherous water was endlessly vacant before them, not a ship on the horizon and no sign of an opposite shore.
With a splash, the lorelei entered the water.
• • •
The giant orange raft emblazoned with Pumpkin’s face sliced through the sea like a knife, the lorelei churning furiously up ahead of them, the sea’s hazardous water flying up in their wake. About an hour before, they had lost all sight of land, and now the horizon on every side of them was rippling, oily, and black.
May was beginning to suspect that in this vast ocean, the chances of finding their friends were slim to none. And then a tiny speck appeared in the distance ahead of them. May thought she was imagining it at first. But when she looked over at Pumpkin, he was looking at it too, biting his fingernails.
“Do you think that’s it?” he asked.
May pulled one of her arrows from her back and held it ready to string to her bow. “Maybe. Put Kitty in your sack and tie it on tight.”
As the speck grew larger, they could see that it was indeed a ship. Whether it was the one they were looking for was a different question. It was a great black galleon, tatty white sails hoisted and blowing in the wind.
The lorelei shot a look back at them and then picked up speed. They coasted forward, faster and faster. May strung her bow and took aim. The wind screamed in her ears, and she trained her eyes on the decks. They could see ghoulish figures now, moving about the boat. And May could see the ship’s name, painted on the back: THE HESPERUS. She gasped. Under the dimness of the sky, against the blackness of the sea, the tiniest glow stood out on the prow, like a lamp burning. A glowing figure.
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