Teenage Psychic on Campus

by Pamela Woods-Jackson

  “I’m looking for the door to the basement. Duh.”

  “Oh, right,” Gary said, surveying the now-pitch dark hallway. He beamed his flashlight to illuminate another passageway off to our left. “Maybe down this way?”

  “Maybe.” I led the way and sure enough, just before we got to the house’s back door, there was one more unopened door on our right. I reached out and gingerly tried the old-fashioned metal doorknob and found it surprisingly easy to turn. “Shine the light down there.”

  Gary did as I asked. “Yup, it’s a basement all right.”

  Very funny, I thought, but I didn’t have time for sarcastic repartee. I grabbed the handrail and started gingerly down the steep wooden steps, Gary right on my heels. And as soon as we arrived at the bottom of the steps, my radar went crazy. I stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and watched the movie in my head rerun the same scene from my dreams. I opened my eyes to get my bearings. “We need to search down here.”

  Gary ran his fingers through his hair. “Just what are we searching for anyway?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but it’s related to those humans I mentioned earlier. And my sixth sense is telling me we can’t leave this basement till we find whatever it is.” But I knew my psychic skills alone couldn’t do the job, so I turned to Gary. “Can you reach out to the ghost? Maybe between the two of us, we can get some answers.”

  Gary winced. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t just summon them. Her.”

  I hadn’t realized just how different our skill sets were. When I needed Uncle Omar’s help, I simply asked. But maybe Barry was right, that Gary and I could find a way to pool our resources. We’d have to try because this—whatever it was—was important.

  The basement seemed to have about the same amount of square footage as the entire first floor, making it huge, dank and creepy. Off to one corner and under the stairs was the laundry area, with an old washer and dryer sitting next to one of those old-fashioned work sinks, now all rusty and covered with dirt. The boiler took up a good portion of the middle of the room and probably didn’t work, because next to it was a more modern furnace. And by modern I meant twentieth century. Broken pieces of furniture and boxes were piled up in the opposite far corner, and there was a boy’s bicycle with two flat tires and a bent rim next to the boxes.

  I started feeling along the damp walls, tripping over some of the cardboard boxes. I shoved them out of my way, determined to keep moving. “Anything yet?” I asked him.

  Gary did a survey of the musty basement, playing the flashlight around the walls as he did. Suddenly he stopped and shivered. “Okay, when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, that’s my signal for a ghost. And I just felt it.”

  I stopped and whispered, “Do you see her?”

  Gary nodded and held up a hand to let me know he needed to concentrate. “Who are you?” he asked the ghost.

  Gary stared at the wall and nodded his head. I’ve seen him do this before and always thought it was weird, but this time I was fascinated. “What’s she saying?”

  “Her name is Miss Fairchild,” Gary said, then stopped and listened again. “She was a teacher, and she lived in this house as a boarder. I guess that means renter. Looked after kids and stuff.”

  “Okay, so…?”

  Gary raised his voice and addressed the wall. “Lady, you’re dead. You need to go to the light.”

  “What does she look like?” I whispered.

  “Dead,” Gary replied. When I scowled at him, he added, “It’s like everyone who’s ever seen her says, long white dress, graying hair in a bun, old-fashioned glasses.”

  “But what’s she saying?”

  Gary was silent for a moment longer, then shook his head. “Weird. Something about,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “a child.” He shrugged.

  Then it hit me, so hard in fact I sucked in a long, raspy gasp. I coughed a little and then said, “Ohmigod, I know exactly what’s she telling us!” I grabbed the flashlight from Gary and began playing it around the basement walls.

  I could hear Annabeth and Sean moving around above us, fumbling with the door, disrupting my concentration and probably Gary’s as well.

  “Shhh, Sean, be quiet in case Gary’s speaking to the dead,” Annabeth said, not so quietly.

  “Annabeth, Sean,” Gary called to the top of the stairs. “Down here.”

  Another flashlight shone around the room, feet clomped, and then Annabeth and Sean came to a dead stop on the last step.

  Sean pointed to the ceiling where the night vision camera had been set up. “Is that thing working?”

  Annabeth squinted up at it. “No green ‘ON’ light. So no.” She adjusted the lens on her camera, took aim and began snapping pictures around the room. “Hey, Gary, do you think I might get some orbs on the finished photographs?”

  “Maybe,” Gary said, “’cause we definitely have company down here.” He stuck out his hand for me to return the flashlight.

  “Ooo, do tell!” Annabeth giggled as she snapped a photo of Gary, who blinked and cringed.

  “Gary spoke to Ms. Ghost, and I got a huge psychic hit. We have to keep looking down here until we find…”

  “Find what?” Sean asked. “Hey, does anyone feel like we’re in one of those Scooby kids cartoons?”

  “Thanks for the comic relief, man,” Gary said.

  “Gary, don’t keep me in suspense, what did the ghost say?” Annabeth repeated.

  “She was a teacher back in the day, then after she died she stayed around to keep an eye on kids who lived here, and now she’s fixated on some kid. I guess that’s why she won’t cross over.” Gary began poking around in the pile of discarded toys and furniture off in the corner.

  “Caryn,” Annabeth called out, “what’s your radar saying?”

  “I think I know what—who—we’re looking for, but…” I was getting frustrated as I inched my way along the walls, kicking boxes, pushing aside old pictures and bed frames. And suddenly there it was, hidden behind all the debris. “Look!” I unfastened a latch on a door that revealed a pantry of some sort. In it were rows of old wooden shelving, and they were crammed with jars. I stepped in for a closer look. “What do you suppose is in these?”

  Gary flashed his light on them. “Botulism.”

  Annabeth joined me and snapped photo after photo. “Looks like homemade canned goods. Some of them are really old.” She wrinkled her nose as she pulled one off the shelf and blew the dust off it. “Aunt Sarah’s homemade pickles, June 1958.” She shuddered and put it back.

  I ran my fingers along the rows of jars, stopping when I got to the end of the last shelf. “Hey, check this one out. It’s a generic brand from a local grocery store. Expiration date: August 2019. Canned peaches.” I picked it up and examined it. “And all this other stuff, too.” I pointed to a row of modern-looking cans of tuna, vegetables, fruits, potatoes, and a number of those spaghetti-in-a-can types of meals.

  Gary moved in behind me. “Your point?”

  Sean flashed his light over Gary’s shoulder. “Maybe it was the construction crew’s lunch.”

  I put the can back on the shelf. “No.” I stopped a minute and closed my eyes. “Uncle Omar?”

  “Keep looking,” my uncle said in my ear.

  “He says we’re not done searching, guys,” I said.

  Gary groaned. “Searching for what?”

  “A room I saw in a vision a few days ago. It’s down here, so there’s got to be an opening somewhere.” I went back to running my hands along the walls.

  Gary was astonished. “We’re frantically searching for something you dreamed about?”

  “You guys have fun. I’m out,” Sean said. He pointed to the stairs and was about to head back up when there was another loud crash right near us.

  We all froze.

  My eyes darted around the basement. “See? I told you! He’s down here.”

  “Who?” Gary and Sean demanded in unison.

  “Th
is is so cool!” Annabeth exclaimed.

  ****

  Gary began poking on the walls and flashing his light on the ceiling, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise they’d just heard. He took a second to analyze what he was feeling, and sure enough she was there. The Lady in White, standing off in a corner, pointing to a wall.

  “Gary, is the ghost back?” Caryn asked in hushed tones.

  Normally Gary didn’t care whether he scared a ghost off or not, but this time she was their only source of information and he needed her help. He stood completely still, waiting to see if she’d talk, but she just pointed and then vanished.

  “Over there.” Gary’s gaze followed the invisible directions back to the pantry. He stared at it, trying to figure out what the ghost had been trying to tell him. He felt along the wall next to the shelves, his hands mostly hitting the concrete bricks, but then he felt something. Gary pushed aside a couple of boxes piled up a little too neatly next to the shelves. Sure enough, there was a door behind them.

  Caryn and Annabeth rushed over. “A hidden door!” Annabeth squealed with delight.

  “Huh. We’re officially in a Scooby Doo mystery,” Sean said.

  “Ha ha,” Gary replied.

  The door had one of those rope handles instead of a doorknob. Gary pulled on it and it opened with a squeak. Inside was a small room, probably once used as a storm shelter and lined with old-fashioned plaster instead of drywall. The one lamp in the room flicked off just as the four of them stepped in. Gary aimed his flashlight at an old army cot in the corner with blankets and a pillow, and an end table with books and opened cans of food and soda.

  Annabeth shrieked when something moved on the bed. “Oh. My. God. Now I’m seeing a ghost!”

  Gary was as astonished as she was. “What is that?”

  Caryn calmly stepped in front of all of them. “It’s not a ‘what,’ it’s a ‘who.’”

  Gary reached over and turned the lamp back on. There sat a little boy, eyes wide, scooting himself as far back into the corner of the cot as he could, pulling the blanket around him as a barrier. “Who the hell are you?” Gary asked.

  “Who wants to know?”

  Gary thought the kid looked panicked despite his forced bravado, so he stepped back to give the kid some space. That’s when he realized what Ms. Lady in White had been trying to tell him. “He must be the kid the ghost was talking about.”

  The boy smirked. “Yeah, I’m a kid all right. Good work, Sherlock.”

  “And he’s not just any kid,” Caryn said. She waved her arms with a flourish. “Meet Eddie Carson, runaway.”

  Gary felt like his head was about to explode. Could Caryn be right? He peered into the kid’s face and saw the resemblance between the photos that had been all over the media and the flyers handed out at the volunteer search last weekend. “Yo, kid, people have been looking for you. Your dad’s really freaked out.”

  “He’s not my dad,” Eddie snarled.

  “Okay, stepdad,” Gary said. “How did you get in here?”

  “None of your business. Go away and leave me alone!”

  Gary took a step toward Eddie but stopped when the boy recoiled in fear. Instead he did a visual search of the tiny space they were all crammed into. “You must’ve planned all this.”

  “Ya think?” Eddie had a microwave in the corner on the floor, a stack of paper plates, a hand-held can opener and plates of half-eaten food tossed next to the bed, plus he had access to those cans on that pantry shelf outside of the room. On a wooden crate-turned-nightstand was a stack of books and a deck of cards, and a backpack peeked out from under the cot.

  Gary lifted an eyebrow at Eddie as he read off the titles of some of the books. “Moby Dick. The Never Ending Story. The Great Gatsby. Harry Potter something. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Some pretty sophisticated reading here, kid. Looks like you’re planning a long stay.”

  “Like I said, none of your business.”

  Annabeth aimed her camera at Eddie, who quickly put one hand in front of his face and held the other palm up to stop her. “Get that thing away from me!”

  “Dude, there’s been a massive manhunt for you,” Sean told him. “Everyone thought you were the victim of foul play.”

  “Who says I’m not?” Eddie shot back.

  Gary thought he saw a bruise peeking out from under the kid’s sleeve. He and Sean exchanged glances. “Um, Sean, this kid might be a…a…”

  Caryn lowered her voice. “That’s exactly what he is. A victim of child abuse.”

  Annabeth sucked in her breath and lowered her camera.

  “Who are you guys anyway?” Eddie asked.

  Gary extended his hand to shake, but Eddie shrank back so Gary withdrew his hand and wiped it on his pants leg. “Gary Riddell, and this is Sean Paxton, Caryn Alderson, and Annabeth Walton. We’re here on a ghost hunt. You know this place is crawling with Ghost Stalkers, right?”

  Sean laughed. “And to think, we thought this place was haunted by a real ghost.”

  “There is a real ghost here,” Gary said. “She was the one who led me to Eddie.”

  Caryn crossed her arms in front of her chest and smirked. “And who was it led you down to the basement?”

  Eddie glared at her. “What are you? Some kinda psychic?”

  Caryn smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I am. So tell us why you’re hiding out here.”

  “Because, that’s why. I thought it was an abandoned house. It was bad enough when the construction guys were here. Now I’m surrounded by ghost hunters and psychics.”

  Sean stepped out of the small room and flashed his light at the night-vision camera. “So you disabled the camera down here, right? And made those other loud noises?”

  “I accidentally turned over the lamp. Twice.” Eddie pulled his hoodie up over his head, crossed his arms, and planted a pillow in front of him as a barrier. “You just don’t get it.”

  “Okay then,” Gary said. He pointed to the edge of the cot for permission to sit and Eddie nodded. “Help us understand.”

  Eddie was silent, opened his mouth to speak, but then slammed it shut and scowled at them. “I’m taking the fifth.”

  Gary grinned. “This isn’t a court room, kid.”

  Eddie curled up his knees and buried his face. “I can’t let anyone know where I am. And you guys have ruined everything, so now I gotta go.”

  “Go where?” Sean asked.

  “Anywhere. Out of Belford.” Tears came to his eyes.

  Gary sighed. He felt sorry for the kid. Whatever was troubling him, Eddie had gone to a lot of trouble to disappear. “Eddie,” Gary said, “something’s obviously wrong and we”—he turned to the others who nodded confirmation—“we’d like to help.”

  Eddie stifled a sob. “I can’t go home.”

  “Are you in trouble?” Annabeth asked.

  “I didn’t do all this,” he said, waving his arms around the room, “because everything was hunky-dory.”

  They were interrupted by loud voices just above them, and then the basement door opened to admit Barry and Scott. Gary noticed all the lights had been turned back on upstairs.

  “Anyone down here?” Scott called.

  “Yeah, we’re here,” Gary answered. The four of them scurried out of Eddie’s makeshift bedroom and Gary pulled the hidden door closed behind him.

  “Hey, we wondered where you guys got off to,” Barry said, easing down the stairs and fumbling along the wall for a light switch. “Did you see the ghost?”

  Gary hurried out into the center of the basement to keep Barry from snooping around any further. “Lady in White? Yeah, I saw her.” He shone his flashlight on the switch Barry was looking for.

  Barry flipped it on, causing all of them to momentarily blink. “What did she look like? Did you talk to her?”

  Gary nodded, but he couldn’t really tell them what the ghost had said without giving Eddie’s whereabouts away. So he dodged Barry’s second question. “Middl
e age, white dress, early twentieth century. You might have gotten some images on the upstairs cameras. The one down here isn’t working.”

  “Nada,” Barry said. “But we already knew ghosts could play havoc with electronics.”

  Caryn stepped to Gary’s side. “He had a long conversation with the dead lady, but I don’t think she’s planning to cross over any time soon.”

  “And what about you, Caryn?” Barry said. “Any psychic hits?”

  Caryn was quiet a moment, her head tilted to the right, listening to something. “My spirit guide says we did what we came to do. The construction crew can get back to work.”

  Gary glanced at her, their eyes met, and he knew she was also covering for Eddie. “The ghost is harmless and she promises not to cause any more trouble,” he fibbed.

  Barry visually searched the room one last time. “Well, we’re done here. The next step is to go back to school and go over the footage and the EVP recordings to see what we got. You guys ready?”

  “Yeah, in a minute,” Gary said. “We found some…” How do I finish that sentence?

  “Some interesting antiques to write about in our news story,” Annabeth finished for him. “I need to get a few shots.” In order to be convincing, she whipped out her camera and took aim at the shelf stocked with old canned goods.

  “Well, don’t be too long,” Barry said.

  Gary waited till Barry was safely back upstairs before turning to the others. “What are we going to do? We can’t just leave Eddie here by himself.” Gary suddenly felt that familiar tingle on his neck and he turned around, expecting to see The Lady in White, but it wasn’t her. His jaw dropped when he spotted the younger woman who’d been haunting him lately, completely materialized next to the hidden door.

  Caryn followed Gary’s gaze and hurried to his side. “Is The Lady in White back?”

  Gary shook his head. “It’s a ghost all right, but not the resident ghost. This one hasn’t been dead all that long and she’s been following me everywhere.”

  “Who is she? What does she want?” Caryn asked.

  “You have to help him,” the ghost said. “My son needs you.” And then she was gone.