by Terri Reid
Mary slowly turned in a circle, studying each corner of the room, and then shook her head. “I’m catching quick glimpses out of the corner of my eye,” she said. “But no one is appearing to me. No one is asking me for help.”
“Isn’t that strange?” he asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be drawn to you?”
“Well, fear is a pretty primal emotion,” Mary said. “And when you’re filled with fear, all other emotions— love, trust, hope— can’t get through. Fear paralyzes you.”
“So, how do you move past that?” he asked.
She smiled and shrugged. “Faith,” she replied. “Faith is like that little speck of light in a darkened room. When you stand there with the light, your eyes adjust and the light seems to get brighter. The darkness fades a little bit more. You are able to see things you hadn’t seen before. You don’t have to do much, just have a little bit of faith, and the fear will dissipate a little at a time.”
“Okay, Mary, so what do we actually do? Bradley asked.
Mary shrugged. “Now we have to figure out what will inspire faith in this little girl.”
They walked out of the room and continued to the end of the hall. “Is this strange?” Mary asked, noticing another hallway behind a wooden door with a glass window. “I’ve never seen a separate hallway like this before in other parts of the hospital.”
Bradley reached down and grabbed hold of the doorknob, but the door was locked. He turned to Mary. “A locked door in a pediatric ward?” he said. “That seems a little out of the ordinary. And why is it still locked?”
“Well, it could have been an isolation ward,” she suggested. “And the lock is to keep people safe.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it could have been,” he said.
He stared at the door for a long moment. “I’m going to try something,” he said. “Maybe since she reached out, I can get her to appear.”
“Okay,” Mary replied. “Great idea.”
“Hello,” he called out. “I’m here to help you. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to understand why you’re in the hospital.”
They waited in silence for a few minutes. Mary reached over and took Bradley’s hand in her own. Finally, he shook his head and sighed. “It didn’t work,” he said sadly. “I guess we should go home.”
He started to turn away when he heard a shuffling sound. Mary shined her flashlight down and watched in surprise as a manila folder slid from underneath the locked door to just in front of their feet. Bradley bent down and picked it up. Mary turned the flashlight to the folder.
“It’s a medical chart,” he said, scanning the yellowed pages. Then he looked up and met Mary’s eyes. “But it’s for a little boy.”
“What?” she asked. “But I thought—”
Suddenly a burst of childish laughter came from the other side of the door. They could hear several children laughing, their voices echoing in the dark, empty halls. Mary rubbed her arms as a chill ran up her spine.
“I think this is a little more complicated than we thought,” Bradley said.
Mary nodded. “Yes, a little more crowded.”
Chapter Eleven
Clarissa quietly opened her bedroom door and padded to the bathroom. She was a little surprised to discover that the hallway light was still on, and she wondered how late it really was. Once she had finished in the bathroom, she wandered over to the staircase. She could hear voices coming from downstairs. It must not be as late as she thought.
She started down the stairs when she heard her grandmother’s voice.
“Oh, my, how frightening. More than one ghost on the third floor.”
Knowing the conversation would probably stop if she continued downstairs, she stepped back up and crouched down next to the railing.
“There were at least a handful of children’s voices coming from the other side of that door,” she heard her mother say. “But none of them would show themselves to us.”
“Why not?” her grandmother asked.
“We don’t know,” her father said. “My guess is that adults frighten them.”
“I agree,” her mother added. “If we could only get through to them and find out why they’re still there.”
Clarissa sat up straight. She could help. The ghost children wouldn’t be afraid of her. She nearly ran down the stairs until she heard her father speaking.
“Let’s not talk about this in front of Clarissa. It might be upsetting for her to hear about ghost children.”
She slowly backed away from the staircase and then turned and ran back into her bedroom. She climbed into her bed and scrambled over to the other side. Reaching over to the nightstand on that side, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a small walkie-talkie. Rolling back to her pillows, she switched it on and pressed the button on the side.
“Maggie. Maggie. Are you there?” she called into the walkie-talkie.
“Do you know how late it is?” Maggie’s sleepy voice replied.
“No, I don’t” Clarissa replied honestly. “I just had to call you.”
“Why?” Maggie asked.
“We have an adventure,” she said.
“What kind of adventure?” Maggie asked skeptically.
“A ghost adventure,” Clarissa replied. “I know a way we can help.”
“This better be good,” Maggie said.
“It will be,” Clarissa replied. “I promise.”
Chapter Twelve
“Good morning,” Clarissa called down from upstairs just before she skipped happily down the steps.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Margaret said, meeting her at the foot of the stairs and hugging her. “Are you ready for our adventure?”
Clarissa nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’m so excited and so is Maggie,” she replied.
“When did you talk to Maggie?” Mary asked.
Clarissa’s face dropped. “Oh. I mean, I’m sure she will be happy,” Clarissa replied.
Margaret and Mary exchanged doubtful glances at Clarissa’s response. “Well, I’m sure she will be too,” Margaret said. “I was thinking we could go to the craft store and then go out for lunch—”
“Grandma,” Clarissa interrupted. “I was wondering if maybe we could go to the hospital and visit Grandpa Stanley instead.”
Margaret stepped back and stared at Clarissa for a moment. “Really?” she asked, flabbergasted. “You would rather go and visit Grandpa Stanley than go to lunch?”
“Is that okay?” Clarissa asked, looking uncomfortable.
Margaret wrapped her arms around her granddaughter and hugged her tightly. “I think it’s just wonderful,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “And so sweet. I can’t imagine a more selfless decision.”
“So it’s okay?” Clarissa asked again.
Margaret laughed and hugged her once more. “Yes, it’s just fine,” she said. She turned to Mary. “Can Stanley have young visitors?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, as long as they are with you, they can visit,” she said, walking over to them. “And I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”
Clarissa looked down at her feet. “Thanks, Mom,” she said softly.
“What’s all this about?” Bradley asked, buttoning his uniform shirt as he walked down the stairs.
“Mom was going to take Clarissa and Maggie to the craft store and then out to lunch today,” Mary began, “but Clarissa asked if they could go to the hospital and visit Stanley instead.”
Bradley looked at his daughter and smiled proudly. “Wow, I am so impressed,” he said. “Are you sure you want to give up your special day to visit Stanley?”
“Bradley!” Mary exclaimed. “Don’t talk her out of it.”
“Sorry,” Bradley said. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I’m just really surprised…in a good way.”
Clarissa shrugged. “It’s no big deal,” she insisted.
“No, sweetheart,” Bradley said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It’s a really big deal. And it shows me how much
you’re growing up.”
The doorbell ringing interrupted their conversation, and Clarissa quickly excused herself from the adults. “It’s Maggie,” she said. “I’ll get it.”
She ran to the door and opened it.
“What did they say?” Maggie whispered.
“Wait a minute,” Clarissa replied softly. Then she turned back towards the room of adults. “Is it okay if Maggie and I go upstairs to my room for a little bit? We want to make some get well cards for Stanley.”
“Oh sure, sweetheart,” Mary said. “That would be so nice.”
Clarissa led Maggie up to her room and closed the door behind them.
“What’s up?” Maggie asked.
“They said we could visit the hospital,” Clarissa replied softly. “But, everyone’s making a big deal about it, so I’m kind of feeling bad.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Maggie reassured her quietly. “We are doing a good thing, in the long run.”
Clarissa sighed. “Yeah, I suppose so,” she said. “But I still feel kind of bad.”
“Once we figure out what those ghost kids want, we’ll be heroes again,” Maggie said. “Besides, it was all your idea.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Clarissa agreed. “And if we want to do this when we’re grown up, it’s good practice.”
“Right,” Maggie said. “And it’s in the hospital. How scary can that be?”
Chapter Thirteen
The three adults waited silently downstairs until they heard the door to Clarissa’s room close. Then Mary turned to her mother. “Mom, have I ever mentioned Mike, Clarissa’s guardian angel?” she asked casually as she walked back to the kitchen followed by Margaret and Bradley.
“He’s the fireman, isn’t he?” Margaret asked. “His parents came to the baby shower.”
Mary nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “He’s a pretty important member of our family. And you’re going to get the chance to meet him.”
She stopped next to the kitchen counter and called, “Mike, are you around?”
Instantly Mike appeared next to her. “Good morning,” he said. Then he turned and looked at Margaret, who was staring at him in shock. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello,” Margaret replied slowly, still surprised.
Mike nodded. “I know, you don’t often see a such a good-looking guy like me,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “I have that effect on most women.”
Margaret’s face softened, and she chuckled. “Do you now?” she asked. “And being so modest, it must be a chore.”
Laughing, Mike nodded. “Exactly,” he teased. Then he turned to Mary. “Mary, your mother is not only beautiful, she’s highly intelligent.”
“How can I see you?” Margaret asked.
“Well, I want you to see me,” Mike explained, turning back to Margaret. “So that’s part. But also, you are connected to this family, and so that helps too.”
Then he looked back over at Mary. “What’s up?”
“That’s the question of the hour,” Mary said.
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, something’s up with Clarissa and Maggie.”
“What?” Margaret asked. “Why would you say that?”
Bradley laughed. “My daughter is good, but she’s not that good,” he said.
“And when she couldn’t meet our eyes when we complimented her,” Mary added. “That’s a sure sign that she’s feeling guilty about something.”
“And her movements— shuffling her feet, lowering her head,” Bradley added. “All physiological signs of internal stress, which comes from lying.”
“That’s what you get for having two trained law enforcement professionals as parents,” Mike inserted. “You never get away with stuff.”
“This is amazing,” Margaret said. “I should have been trained like this when you were young.”
Mary shook her head. “No, you had Mom Radar,” she said. “You would know when we did something wrong even if we were miles away from home. You didn’t need training.”
Margaret shook her head. “Obviously, from our Halloween conversations, the Mom Radar didn’t work all the time.”
“Thank goodness,” Mary laughed. Then she looked at Mike. “So, what do you know?”
Mike shook his head. “Okay, you know the rules,” he said. “I’m here to watch over her, not come running to you guys if she makes a bad decision. She has the freedom to choose, too.”
“Well, technically, you didn’t come to us,” Bradley said, “because we already figured out that something was up. But, you could help us with some insight so we can figure out how far we let her take her decision making.”
“Fair enough,” Mike said with a nod. “Well, she might have overheard your conversation about the ghost children last night. And, to give her credit, she was going to come downstairs until she overheard Bradley asking all of you not to mention it to her.”
“Ahhhh,” Bradley said slowly. “Okay, that makes sense. Do you have an idea of what her plan might be?”
Mike smiled and nodded. “She might have called Maggie with a walkie-talkie she has stashed in her bedroom and said something about going to the hospital to see Stanley and then asking to go to the bathroom,” Mike offered. “Then they might have decided to take the elevator down to three and check it out.”
“Well, that’s brilliant,” Mary said, impressed with their deviousness. “What do you think?”
“No,” Bradley said immediately. “It’s too dangerous.”
Margaret smiled at him. He was such a good father.
“Actually,” Mike offered, “there is no danger from the children, and Clarissa and Maggie might be just who we need to get them to trust us.”
Bradley shook his head. “I don’t like it.” He looked at Mary. “What do you think?”
Mary was torn. She didn’t like the idea of Clarissa and Maggie walking around in that dark hallway, being spooked. But maybe being spooked would prevent them from taking other, more dangerous, risks in the future.
“Well, I understand what you’re feeling,” she said. “I was pretty spooked when we were on that floor. But this might be a good learning experience for the girls. And it will be a controlled experience.”
Mike nodded. “I’ll be there with them,” he said.
“And once they leave to go to the bathroom, I can follow them,” Margaret offered.
Sighing, Bradley leaned back against the kitchen wall. “Okay,” he said. “But let me do a little research this morning on the file we found. If I find anything that makes me uncomfortable, we call this off.”
“Agreed,” Mary said. “And I’ll see what I can find on my end. Mom, we’ll call you by eleven to update you.”
Margaret nodded. “That’s perfect,” she said, grinning. “This is quite exciting, you know. I’ve never been part of a case before.”
Mary laughed. “Who knows? This might be the start of a whole new career for you.”
Margaret shook her head. “Well, I don’t know about that,” she said. “But I’m sure this will be an adventure for all of us.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, what do we have here?” Stanley asked when Margaret and the girls came into his hospital room. “Have the angels come to take me away?”
Maggie and Clarissa giggled.
“Hello, Stanley,” Margaret said. “The girls had the day off school and wanted to pay you a visit. I hope that’s okay.”
“Darn tootin it’s okay,” Stanley said. “I’ve been so bored I started counting the number of tiles on the floor.”
Clarissa looked down at the tiny ceramic floor tiles beneath her. “Wow, you were bored,” she said. “My mom said she beat you in poker.”
Margaret bit back a grin and covered her laughter with a cough, but Stanley glanced in her direction with a smile in his eyes. “Well, iffen you can keep a secret,” he said, “I guess I can let you know that I let her win.”
“You did?” Maggie asked. “Why?”
“Well, you know, she is expect
ing and all,” he replied. “So, I didn’t want to do nothing that would upset that there baby.”
“Would losing at poker upset the baby?” Clarissa asked Margaret.
Seeing the real concern on Clarissa’s face, Margaret shook her head. “I am pretty sure your mom could handle losing a couple of card games,” she said. “But it was lovely of Stanley to consider her feelings.”
Stanley blushed slightly. “Yeah, well, I ain’t called Stanley the Gentleman fer nothing,” he said.
“I’ve never heard you called that,” Maggie said.
“Me either,” Clarissa added.
“Well, you ain’t always around me, right?” Stanley asked. “Could be people call me stuff you ain’t ever even heard about.”
“Like what?” Maggie asked.
Stanley shook his head. “What do you mean, like what?”
“Like what other names do people call you?” she replied.
Chuckling softly, Margaret sat in a chair and folded her arms, waiting for his response. “Well?” she prompted. “What do they call you?”
Stanley harrumphed loudly and sat back against the pile of pillows on his bed. “Well, I ain’t the kind of man to brag,” he said.
“Then they must call you Stanley the Modest,” Margaret supplied.
“Yeah!” Clarissa agreed. “And Stanley the Brave ‘cause of how you saved Rosie when your house was on fire.”
“And Stanley the Sick ‘cause you’re in the hospital,” Maggie suggested.
Margaret laughed out loud. “Stanley the Sick does have a nice ring to it,” she teased.
Stanley laughed too. “No. No. Them’s all too ordinary,” he said. “How about Stanley the Superstar?”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Clarissa said. “Do they really call you that?”
Stanley chuckled. “Nope, they never have,” he laughed. “But I’m hoping they do some day.”
“We made you some get well cards,” Maggie said. “We can put superstar on them if you’d like.”
Stanley’s eyes softened, and he shook his head. “Well, ain’t that the sweetest thing,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “No, you don’t need to put superstar on them. I feel like a superstar just getting them.”