“What?” asked Allie.
“Who is the girl who did get the part?”
Three
Allie followed Dub down the aisle and they took seats in the front row. Soon other kids began to show up, including Julie Horwitz and Pam Wright, who both looked glum. Karen Laver arrived, wearing her dark hair in two long braids topped off with a beaded headband.
“Gee, you wouldn’t be trying to influence Miss Lunsford’s decision by wearing that Indian maiden getup, would you, Karen?” asked Dub.
“I’m only trying to show her that I can look the part,” Karen retorted.
“You look the part, all right,” Dub answered. Under his breath he added, “The part of a suck-up.”
“What did you say?” Karen demanded.
“Nothing,” answered Dub innocently. “I was just wishing you luck.”
Karen made a face at Dub and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest.
Julie whispered to Allie, “I hope you get to be narrator. I know it won’t be me.”
“Well, it sure won’t be me,” said Pam. “I’m glad, actually, after what happened yesterday. If I was that nervous in tryouts, can you picture me in the real pageant? I’d probably faint or throw up in front of the whole town.”
Brad Lewis said, “Being a stagehand is the way to go, right, Joey?”
“For sure,” Joey Fratto agreed. “No lines to memorize, no worries about screwing up in public.”
“Well, you two can have that behind-the-scenes stuff,” Karen announced. “Personally, if I don’t get the main part, I’m out of here. No way I’m going to waste my time on some bit part.”
“That’s what we love about you, Karen,” said Dub with a cheerful smile. “Your good sportsmanship is an inspiration to us all.”
“As if I care what you think, Dub Whitwell,” Karen replied scornfully.
Miss Lunsford called for order and began reading the list of cast members. Allie, Pam, Julie, Joey, and Brad all cheered when she said that Dub had been chosen to play the famous Seneca orator Cornplanter.
“And Allie Nichols will have the part of Laughs-like-a-waterfall,” Miss Lunsford announced.
Allie’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Her friends clapped, and Dub turned to give her a high five. Karen muttered angrily to Allie, “You must have brownnosed Miss Lunsford like you did Mr. Henry. You were his little pet all year, and now this. I totally can’t believe it.”
Allie was too surprised to respond. It was useless to try to explain to Karen that she hadn’t done anything to become Mr. Henry’s “pet.” He was her favorite teacher in the world, and she couldn’t help it if he liked her, too. As far as she could tell, he liked all the kids, even Karen.
Miss Lunsford went on, addressing Allie directly. “I thought it was very creative of you to add those authentic Seneca Indian words to your speech.”
Authentic Seneca Indian words? “Ummmm …” Allie said, hesitating. After a lengthy pause, she saw Dub looking at her and mouthing the words Say something.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure those were real Indian words, but I was thinking it would be more”—her voice trailed off as she tried to remember the word Miss Lunsford had used—“authentic if we did add some.”
“I agree,” Miss Lunsford said enthusiastically. “That’s very creative thinking. Come to me after today’s rehearsal, please, and we’ll talk about it.” She turned to Karen, who was raising her hand. “Yes?”
“I’ve got to go,” Karen said. “I only came today to tell you that I can’t be in the pageant. I just have too many other things to do this summer.”
Miss Lunsford looked puzzled for a moment. Then she said, “I see. Very well, Karen. You may be excused.”
Karen got up to leave. In a voice just low enough so Miss Lunsford couldn’t hear, she said, “What a relief. Now I won’t have to waste my vacation hanging around with you losers.”
“We’ll try our best to get over our disappointment,” said Dub.
When Karen had gone, Julie grinned. “Well, I’m over it,” she said. “How about you guys?”
They all laughed. Allie glanced at Pam and was relieved to see that she was laughing, too. For a long time, Pam had been under Karen’s thumb, too scared to do anything except what Karen wanted her to do. But recently, after getting to know Allie and Dub better, Pam had realized that she preferred to hang out with them. This had only made Karen’s attacks on Allie and Dub nastier than ever.
Allie and the other kids returned their attention to Miss Lunsford. As she went through all the parts, kids signed up to be either settlers or Indians or, in some cases, backstage workers or scenery painters. Janelle did not appear; neither did her parents.
“Now,” said Miss Lunsford, “we’re going to need help with props and costumes. I may be asking you to bring things in from home. But I’ve had a generous offer from a local businessman who believes he’ll be able to supply most of what we need.”
“It’s my Uncle Hal,” Brad called out proudly.
Miss Lunsford looked confused. “Your Uncle Hal?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Brad answered. “I know, it’s weird because his store is called Uncle Hal’s, and everybody calls him that. But he’s my for-real uncle.”
“He’s the guy you interviewed for the assignment Mr. Henry gave us, right?” asked Joey. “The one who wins burping contests and smashes beer cans on his forehead?”
“Yeah,” said Brad proudly. “Only now he’s into kung fu. He’s working on something called the Iron Palm. He already broke a board in half with his bare hand! His goal is to break three cinder blocks.”
“Wow,” said Joey. “I’d like to see that!”
“People,” Miss Lunsford said loudly, in an effort to reclaim their attention. “As I said, Uncle Hal—Brad’s uncle—has offered to help, and he’s going to come to a rehearsal this week to get you all fitted in costumes. Meanwhile, I’d like you to study your scripts tonight and be ready for a run-through in the morning. Thank you, everyone. You are dismissed until tomorrow at ten o’clock.”
Allie asked Dub to wait for her, and after the other kids had gone, she approached Miss Lunsford.
“So, Allie,” Miss Lunsford said, “if those phrases you spoke weren’t in the Seneca language, where did they come from?”
Allie imagined herself explaining to Miss Lunsford that a ghost had taken over her mouth and made her speak a bunch of nonsense words. It was impossible. “I just sort of made them up,” she said, regretting the way being a ghost magnet caused her to lie.
“Well, I think adding the language was a brilliant idea. That’s improvising, as we say in the theater,” Miss Lunsford said with a smile. “I’m hoping to encourage improvisation in this production. It makes things so much more interesting. But to make the idea work, we need to find some real Seneca words for you to use.”
“I—well, I’ll try,” Allie said.
“Good,” Miss Lunsford said. “With all the Seneca Indian history around this area, I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone who can help us. Come to think of it, there’s a restored Seneca village called Ganondiyo not far from here. Have you ever heard of it?”
Allie thought for a moment. “It sounds kind of familiar,” she said.
“I think there are people there who speak Seneca. Let’s look into it,” said Miss Lunsford. “In the meantime, you study your lines as they were written. We’ll make adjustments later if we can. Okay?”
“Sure,” said Allie. “And thanks for giving me the part.”
Miss Lunsford smiled at her warmly. “I didn’t give it to you, Allie. You earned it. I know you’ll bring something special to this role.”
Allie wanted to ask if there was going to be trouble with Mr. Kavanaugh, but she couldn’t let on that she and Dub had been listening. She turned quickly to escape. Before she could get away, though, she answered Miss Lunsford by saying, “Nyawenh.”
Whatever that means, she thought. With an embarrassed grin, she fled the
room.
Dub was waiting for her on the street outside the opera house. “What did she want?” he asked.
“She wants me to see if I can find some real Indian words to use in the pageant.” Allie paused and added, “I answered her in that crazy talk.”
“Mmmm,” said Dub. “Something is definitely up with that.” Then he suggested, “We can search Indian words on the Internet.” His parents had just opened a computer store in town, and Dub was always up on the latest technology.
“You’ll help me, then?” Allie asked. “I don’t mean only with the Internet stuff, either.” She gave Dub a pleading look. “If this is another ghost …” Her voice trailed off.
“Are you kidding?” said Dub. “If this is another ghost, do you think I’m going to miss out on all the action?”
Allie gave a sigh of relief.
Dub went on. “I mean, think about it. If I didn’t hang around with you, I’d never have the opportunity to get scared out of my wits, risk my life, and get in trouble with my parents and the police, all at the same time.”
“Dub!” Allie cried, laughing. But, really, everything he’d said was true. She and Dub had been grounded for a week after their last experience with a ghost, and there had been some terrifying moments and, okay, there had been a police officer or two involved. “It worked out in the end,” she said lamely.
“True,” Dub agreed. “So far, so good. Anyway, whatever happens next, I’m in.”
Allie smiled. Good old Dub, computer wizard and true-blue friend.
“So what do you want to do now?” Dub asked.
“That question,” said Allie with a happy sigh, “is the single best thing about summer vacation. We have all the time in the world.”
“Good thing,” Dub said. “Because it looks like ghosts don’t take vacations.”
Four
“I got the part,” Allie announced that night at the dinner table.
“That’s terrific, Allie-Cat,” said her father, while her mother beamed at her proudly.
Looking at her parents’ kind faces, she was tempted to add that she had babbled nonsense words during her audition, and that she was pretty sure another ghost had shown up. Her parents loved her, and they always tried to understand her. But they worried about her, too, especially about what they sometimes called her “overactive imagination.” At one point, they had even talked of having her “see someone” about it, which Allie knew meant going to a shrink.
She’d never be able to explain—not to her mom and dad and especially not to a doctor—everything that had been happening for the past few months. The more time that went by, the harder it became to announce to her parents and the rest of the world, “Hey, guess what? Ghosts are real, and I can hear them and see them!”
Thank goodness for Dub, she thought, or she’d worry that she and Michael were both crazy.
“It’s the main speaking part, right?” asked her mother.
Allie nodded.
“What’s your Indian name again?” asked her father.
“Laughs-like-a-waterfall,” Allie answered.
Michael was looking at her with a puzzled frown. “That’s dumb,” he said. “Waterfalls don’t laugh.”
“You know, you’re right, Mike,” said Allie. “The lady who wrote the script must have thought it sounded pretty, or something.”
“Well, it’s dumb,” Michael repeated matter-of-factly.
“I wonder if it’s a real Indian name,” said Allie. “Anyway, we are going to add some Indian words to the script.”
“That would be a nice touch,” said Mrs. Nichols. Then she sighed and said, “I should bake something for the shindig at the store tomorrow, but I’m so tired from cleaning and making new displays, I don’t think I can face it.”
Mrs. Nichols ran an antiques store in town, and Allie loved to help out. “Do you want me to make cookies?” she asked. “You promised refreshments in the newspaper ad.”
“Thanks, honey, but you need to study your script. I’ll just buy some cookies at the Sweet Shop on my way in tomorrow.” She sighed again and said to Mr. Nichols, “I hope Darryl’s plan for boosting business downtown pays off. It was his idea for every store to have a big sale on the same day.”
Darryl, Allie thought. Where had she just heard that name? Then she remembered Janelle Kavanaugh’s father. “Mom, is your new landlord Darryl Kavanaugh?”
“Yes. Why?”
“He was at the theater today. He’s kind of a jerk, and so is his daughter, Janelle.”
“Allie!” her mother protested. “Why would you say that?”
Allie told about overhearing Mr. Kavanaugh’s discussion with Miss Lunsford. She added, “And Janelle went right along with it. She didn’t care about being fair.”
Mrs. Nichols looked surprised, then troubled. “I don’t like the sound of that at all,” she said. “I guess I don’t know much about Darryl, other than that he’s a better landlord than I had before. I do appreciate the way he fixed the plumbing, painted, and put in those new windows.”
“He’s made improvements on a lot of other buildings downtown, too,” Mr. Nichols said. “There was an article in the paper about him the other day. The headline called him the ‘Town Hero.’”
Allie noticed that Michael had been quietly marching his favorite Galactic Warrior through a puddle of ketchup on his plate. He held up the dripping action figure and announced, “Moray Eel-Man’s a real hero! Look, he’s all covered in blood, and he’s not even scared.”
“Michael, you know you’re not supposed to play with toys at the table!” Mrs. Nichols cried. She leaped up to get a dishcloth and wiped Michael’s hands and Moray Eel-Man’s feet.
When they’d finished eating and Allie had cleared the table, she went to her room and climbed onto the bed with the script to study her lines. “‘My people lived on Seneca Lake at the place now known as Poplar Point, where the creek enters the lake from Fossil Glen,’” she read aloud. “‘There we grew corn, beans, and squash for our food. These we called the Three Sisters. Also, we had orchards where we grew apples and peaches. We kept hogs and chickens.’”
Allie tried to add a dramatic flair to the stiff words that Mrs. Kavanaugh had written. She couldn’t help wishing they didn’t sound as if they’d been copied from her social studies book.
It was hard to keep her mind from wandering, and she struggled to focus. But she must have fallen asleep because some time later she awoke, startled and disturbed, from an awful nightmare. It was filled with the sounds of gunshots and screams of fear and cries of pain. Panicked people were running in all directions. The air was thick with either mist or smoke, so Allie wasn’t able to make out who was shooting at whom. She lay on top of the covers, her pulse racing, trying to shake the terrible dread and confusion brought on by the dream.
There had been something familiar in the scene, something she recognized. But it was fading, even as her mind tried to grasp what it had been.
That she had had such a dream did not surprise her. Each ghost she’d encountered so far had communicated with her through dreams. Was this nightmare a message from her new ghost? If so—Oh, no! She had learned, to her dismay, that when she was contacted by a ghost through a dream, Michael had the same dream. Was Michael now waking from the nightmare as she had, alone and scared in his bed?
She jumped up and ran down the hallway to Michael’s room. His bed was empty. Her heart sank. Where was he? Quickly she scanned the room. The large glowing face of Michael’s Galactic Warriors digital clock showed ten minutes past eight. Relieved, Allie realized that while she had dozed off over her script, Michael hadn’t even gone to bed yet. He hadn’t experienced the nightmare, since he’d been awake at the time.
So far, Allie had been able to protect Michael from the worst of the fear and danger that came from being a ghost magnet. She told herself that with Dub at her side, she could handle whatever situations might arise. After all, she and Dub were twelve. But Mike was only four, and far more v
ulnerable. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep him safe, and that added greatly to her anxiety about having another visit from a ghost.
She had been lucky today, and so had Mike. But what, she wondered, about the next time?
Five
The next morning, Allie and Michael ate cereal as their mother squeezed fresh lemons into a pitcher. “Allie,” she said, “do you think you could stop by the store after your rehearsal? If we’re mobbed, I might need help.”
“Sure,” said Allie. “Dub’ll probably be with me. Is it okay if he comes?”
“Of course. Now will you go up with Mike and get his teeth brushed, please? Your father will be ready to leave soon.”
“I don’t want to go to Fritzi’s today,” declared Michael. “I want to help at the store, too.”
Fritzi was Michael’s baby-sitter. Ordinarily he loved going to her house, and looked forward to it so eagerly that Mrs. Nichols claimed to be jealous.
Allie saw the stubborn set of Michael’s chin that sometimes meant big trouble was coming. She knew her mother had no time that morning for one of his rare but spectacular tantrums, so she tried to think of a way to distract him.
“Aww, Mom,” she said, “on second thought, do I have to go to the store today? It’ll be so boring. And Dub and I were going to do something really fun, like”—she glanced at Michael—“going to the water park.”
“I go to the water park with Fritzi!” Michael said excitedly. “I stomp on all the squirts, like this!” He jumped up from the table and demonstrated how he stepped on each one of the jets of water that came up from the ground at the park.
“Like this—and this—and this!” Michael went on, stomping on each blue tile on the kitchen floor.
“Is that what you’re going to do today?” Allie asked innocently.
“Yes! Fritzi said.”
“Well, you’re a lucky duck,” said Allie, pretending to pout. “I have to work at the boring old store.”
The Ghost of Poplar Point Page 2