Ghosted

by Leslie Margolis

  “How long did this take you?” I wonder.

  “About a month of working on it after school,” says Reese. “And late nights.”

  “Weekends, too,” Charlie adds.

  “Yesterday I pretty much flunked a major history test, I think, but it was totally worth it,” Jack says.

  The others laugh. I can’t tell if he’s joking or not and I don’t really care.

  “Okay, let’s see the fourth one,” I say gruffly, so they don’t forget who is in charge.

  “We saved the best for last,” Reese says, grinning like mad. She holds one end, while Jack pulls on the other, unraveling the scroll. And I can immediately tell what they are talking about. This last scene is different from the others. It’s much more detailed. Sure, it’s got the same mountains and trees, blue sky and clouds, but it’s also got deer, and a family of bears in the background, and rabbits leaping across a snowy, sunlit field. It actually looks like a gigantic professional painting someone would see in a museum.

  “What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the animals.

  “Oh, we added some woodland creatures. I thought it would be fun,” says Reese with a shrug.

  “You thought it would be fun?” I ask, both eyebrows raised.

  She gulps. “Yup.”

  “You’re right. It looks nice.” I move forward, take a closer look. That’s when I notice a few red birds circling one of the pine trees. “I’ve just got one question: Why birds? Because birds don’t belong in a winter scene—most of them fly south for the winter, like old people,” I say.

  “Not every bird,” says Jack. “I did some research on this because I wasn’t sure about it, either. But it turns out there’s the red crossbill, and the northern goshawk, and snow geese, all of which are depicted here in their natural habitat, so—”

  I yawn, loud and exaggerated, and wave one hand in front of his face. “Yeah, that’s enough of that, bird boy. The woodland creatures are one thing. I mean, sure, I wish you’d checked with me, but I appreciate the surprise. Birds, though? Yes, some of them stick around. I know that because I’m not stupid. But that doesn’t mean we have to include them in a mural. Because it’s still a total disconnect. They simply don’t fit into our theme.”

  “Sure they do,” says Jack, standing up straighter. “As I said before, they are winter birds. It’s a thing.”

  I don’t know where he gets the confidence and I don’t like it, so I laugh in his face. “I’m not interested in the facts, nature boy. My point is, no one thinks winter wonderland and birds. The two concepts don’t even belong in the same sentence, let alone on the same wall. It’s totally going to ruin the entire thing. We can’t use it.”

  “But we have to,” says Reese.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” I reply, squinting closely at the final scroll. “And that snowman in the background? The one between the bear and that deer? He looks a little chubby.”

  Jack lets out a big laugh.

  I whip my head around and glare at him. “What’s so funny?” I ask sharply.

  “Oh, sorry. I thought you were joking. You know. About the snowman being chubby.”

  “I would never joke about something like that,” I reply. “Obesity is a serious problem in this country. Don’t you people read the newspaper?”

  No one answers or argues with me. Well of course they don’t. They’re too scared.

  Reese and Jack are still holding up the scroll in front of me. I take hold of the top edge so I can get a closer look.

  “Careful, you’ll wrinkle it,” says Reese.

  I look at her and smile.

  She grins back, all friendly. Too friendly, considering that we are not, in fact, friends. She hardly knows me. And she’s lucky I let her be on this committee.

  Come to think of it, why did I let her join?

  Her bad attitude is almost as offensive as her bad skin. Pimples cover her forehead, nose, and cheeks. Why didn’t I notice that earlier?

  “You’re just messing with us, right, Ellie? I mean, you wouldn’t make us waste this whole thing…,” she says. “We’ve worked so hard.”

  “Maybe we can paint over the birds,” Jack offers helpfully, pathetically.

  “But why should we have to?” asks Reese, standing up a little straighter, her voice getting slightly louder. “We spent so much time making them and they look really good. Plus, they belong in this landscape. Jack did the research. I know that you are in charge, Ellie, but there are fourteen other people on this committee.”

  “Thirteen, now that Jeremy ‘Fartburger’ had to go,” I remind her.

  Reese sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Fine. Thirteen. My point is, if most of us think it looks good, then we should keep it. Shouldn’t we take a vote or something? I mean, why do you get to decide everything?”

  Huh. People rarely stand up for themselves around me, and to be challenged by Reese—a total nerd? It’s so unexpected and kind of refreshing.

  Kind of.

  I don’t say anything in response. Not at first. Instead, I put my other hand on the scroll.

  Reese’s smile starts to waver and she glances from my face to my hands.

  Everyone is watching us, waiting for my next move.

  The paper feels so flimsy. I’m suddenly overcome by an urge to destroy it.

  Ripping it in half would be cruel, a truly terrible act. But then again, maybe these theater geeks deserve it. After all, they didn’t ask me if they could include woodland creatures in the scene. And birds? How dumb. We’re in eighth grade, not preschool. I could say as much, but actions speak louder than words …

  As I contemplate what to do, I feel a gentle tug at the paper. Reese is trying to take it away from me, but subtly, as if I’m not even going to notice.

  As if …

  I pull in the opposite direction, softly at first. But then she tightens her grip, so I yank on it hard and it tears, making an angry ripping noise that reverberates throughout the gym.

  Someone gasps.

  Reese cries, “No!”

  And it’s too much for me, her being so precious about her work, about this slight tear at the top of the scroll. It’s easily repairable, and even if we left it—no one would notice. I mean, who does she think she is? Michelangelo? Frida Kahlo? Van Gogh? This is nothing, certainly not enough to teach her a lesson. She wants to complain? I’ll give her something to complain about.

  I pull at it again, harder this time, so that the paper tears all the way. Now Reese is left holding one half of the scene, and I have the other. It’s terrible. Truly awful, and exactly what I needed to do.

  I look to Reese, challenging her. She is stunned and speechless. Her pale-blue eyes are wide and filling up with tears.

  “It’s okay,” I hear Jack whisper. He puts a hand on her shoulder. “We can still tape it. No one will notice.”

  “You think?” I ask, as I take my half and tear it again, and again, and again, until it’s merely a bunch of tiny pieces. Next, I throw it up over my head like confetti.

  “Oops!” I say. “Well, at least we have more snow.”

  Sofia laughs, but it sounds forced. I shoot her an evil look—make a mental note to deal with her later.

  Meanwhile, everyone else is silent, too stunned to make a sound.

  Except for Reese, who is suddenly red-faced and fuming. “How could you?” she sputters, fists clenched at her sides.

  Before I can answer her someone’s phone starts to ring.

  Unacceptable!

  “Who left their cell phone on during my meeting?” I yell, spinning around.

  No one says anything. I look toward the noise and realize the ring tone sounds familiar. Oh wow, it’s coming from my purse. “Hah, that’s me,” I say. “Get to work, everyone. String those lights. Hang the murals. Put out the snow. Find something cool for the fourth wall. And someone grab the disco ball from the supply closet. I’ll be back soon.”

  I grab my bag and step outside so I can answer my
phone. The number on the screen is one I know, and it makes me happy.

  “Hey, Daddy. What’s up?” I ask once I’m in the hallway.

  “Ellie, sweetie. How are you?”

  I sigh and reply, “Fine. Tired. Running this dance has been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe the incompetence I have to deal with.”

  My father chuckles and says, “That’s the Ellie I know and love. I’m sure you will pull it off beautifully.”

  “Well, I have no choice now, do I? Who else is smart enough to be in charge of this whole thing?”

  “No one, babe,” my father assures me.

  “It’s just so stressful, and everyone is super annoying. I can’t wait until this whole thing is over with and I’m in Hawaii,” I tell him.

  “You won’t have to wait for long. I’m sending a car to pick you up at your mom’s house at five a.m. tomorrow.”

  “A limo?” I ask.

  My dad chuckles instead of answering.

  I frown, not that he can see me. “I’m not joking,” I tell him.

  “Oh, Ellie. You’re too much.”

  “I think I’m just enough,” I reply. “It’s bad enough that you are making me fly coach.”

  “Thirteen-year-olds don’t need to fly first class, Ellie. If your life is too easy now, you’ll have nothing to look forward to. No reason to work hard. And speaking of … how is school? Still at the top of your class?” he asks.

  “Of course,” I tell him.

  “Well, good,” my dad replies. “I can’t wait for you to get to Maui. You are going to love it.”

  “You got me my own private suite, right?” I ask. “And it’s overlooking the ocean?”

  My dad laughs again. “Of course, sweetheart. This is a special occasion.”

  “You mean us finally spending Christmas together after so long?”

  “Sure, that, and I also have another big surprise for you.”

  “Wait, what?” I ask. “What is it? You know I hate surprises.”

  “You’re gonna love this one,” my dad says. “You did clear this trip with your mother, correct?”

  Ugh. I can’t believe my dad is asking me this now, when there’s so much going on. My parents split up years ago, and I almost always spend Christmas with my mom. Usually my dad is too busy with work stuff. He actually never takes vacations. Except this year is different. This year my dad invited me to Maui and there’s no way I’m not going. The only catch is, he insisted that I be the one to break the news to my mom. They don’t speak anymore. And I fully intended to tell her … eventually.

  “Ellie?” my dad asks. “You still there?”

  I glance back toward the gym, take a deep breath, and then lie. “Of course I told her.”

  “How’d she take the news?” he asks.

  “Do you actually care?” I reply.

  “Ellie, that’s not fair,” my dad says. “Your mother and I have our issues, but she’s still your mom, and she deserves to be treated with—”

  I sigh, cutting him off. “She’s fine, and I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  “Yup, me too. Bye,” I say, and hang up.

  I peek into the gym. Everyone is bustling around, working together, getting stuff done. One of the murals is already up on the wall. Darcy and Jack and Adam are stringing snowballs from the basketball hoops. Maddie and Harper are putting up the snowflakes. Everyone has done an amazing amount of work in the time I’ve been gone. I’m impressed. I think about joining them, pitching in to help make everything go faster …

  And then I realize that I still have to do my nails.

  I just got this new polish called Winter’s Chill, the shade of which will match my dress perfectly. It only takes a few minutes to do my fingers, but I need to wait a lot longer to make sure they are dry. So I head to the football field and power walk around the track a few times. It’s chilly but I can take it.

  As I exercise, I work on composing a note to my mom in my head. I think brief and to the point is key. Something like, Hi, Mom. Flying to Maui to see Dad. Merry Christmas. See you next week!

  Actually, I don’t even need to put that in a note. I’ll simply sneak out of the house before dawn and then text her from the airport. My mom will understand. I hardly ever get to see my dad. He travels a lot for work and his schedule is too unpredictable. It’s been almost a year since we’ve spent time together, and he only invited me to Maui two weeks ago. How could I say no? I can’t. This is a wonderful opportunity for me. I’ve never been to Hawaii, and my mom would never take me to a fancy resort, even if she could afford to. It’s simply not her style. And sure, with me gone, she’ll have to spend Christmas alone, but what’s the big deal? It’s only one stupid holiday.

  I blow on my nails and test the polish, gently brushing my thumb along my pinky—all dry.

  By the time I get back to the gym, the entire room has been transformed.

  The twinkle lights run from each corner of the room and meet at the middle. The mounds of cotton balls are bunched together in a way that looks surprisingly like snow. The three murals I approved of are up and looking magnificent. On the fourth wall, they’ve hung the half of the scroll that Reese was able to save, except they painted over those stupid birds. Much better. They even scrounged together enough of Darcy’s snow to cover the remaining part of the wall, so it looks kind of like a three-dimensional sledding hill.

  “We’re running out of time, people,” I announce, checking my watch.

  “We’re almost done,” Jack tells me, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

  Behind him, Maddie and Lily are lugging the gigantic disco ball to the center of the room, where the big ladder is already set up.

  Dezi follows them with a spool of invisible wire.

  Jack starts climbing the ladder.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  He looks at me with panic in his eyes.

  “Um, I thought I was doing what you wanted me to do,” he says.

  “No way, you’ve already screwed up the scenery. This disco ball is the centerpiece of the whole entire room. It ties everything together and I’m going to hang it up,” I say, pushing him out of the way.

  I cannot believe he is trying to do this last thing, steal the spotlight from me. It’s completely unacceptable.

  I grab the spool of wire with one hand, and carefully tuck the disco ball under my arm. It’s not that heavy, but it’s big and hard to manage. I awkwardly reach for the ladder with my free hand and start to climb. As I take my first step, I realize it’s actually kind of rickety. “Someone hold this!” I shout.

  Sofia and Reese run over and station themselves under me, each holding on to one side of the ladder.

  “That’s better,” I say. “Now, don’t let go.”

  I climb another step and then another. The higher I go, the more nervous I am. I’ve never been excited about heights, but I’m not going to let anyone know. Fear is a sign of weakness, and I am anything but weak.

  I can handle this—it’s only a disco ball. And once it’s hung, the room will be perfect.

  Taking a deep breath, I climb another rung.

  “Be careful,” Maddie calls up to me. I know she means well, but she sounds like a total nag. Could she actually know I’m afraid? Annoying.

  “I’m fine,” I bark down to her. “This is not a big deal.”

  I am feeling the opposite but hope no one can tell.

  When I finally reach the top of the ladder I loop the wire around the middle of the beam and then tie on the disco ball.

  There. Done. The ball is composed of hundreds of little square mirrors and as it spins, I see my image in miniature reflected back to me a hundred times. It’s gorgeous. I’m gorgeous. But wait a second … Something is off.

  “Is this thing centered?” I call down to the crowd below.

  No one answers. I look at the ground, which seems so far away, and why isn’t anyone paying any attention to me? “Hey,
dummies! I asked you a question!” I shout.

  A few people glance up at me: Maddie, Jack, Lily.

  “Is it centered?” I call again, hardly believing how far away everyone looks from here. I hope no one notices the tremble in my voice. Who knew the gym ceiling was this high?

  Jack shades his eyes with one hand and squints at me. “I can’t really tell from where I’m standing,” he says.

  Ridiculous. I can’t believe I have to do everything around here. I lean back a couple of inches, trying to get a better look because these marshmallows-for-brains kids can’t tell me anything. And just as I suspected, it’s slightly off.

  I nudge the ball to the left barely an inch. The ball sways a bit and then steadies itself and now it seems perfect.

  I’m about to make my way down the ladder when I notice something odd. The face in all those mirrors? It’s not mine anymore. Instead I’ve been replaced by some other girl. She’s got dark hair, bright blue eyes, and pale, freckly skin.

  She’s eerily familiar, and yet, I can’t place her.

  Of course, the more I stare the more I start to get this strange, unsettling sensation that I’ve seen her somewhere before. That in fact I know her well …

  Then very suddenly, I startle and step back.

  And that’s when I remember I’m standing on a ladder.

  I mean, I was standing on a ladder.

  Everything that happens next seems to happen in slow motion.

  It’s the scariest sensation—kind of like being on a roller coaster that’s flown off its track. You know things are going to be bad … it’s simply a question of when, and to what degree.

  For a few moments I seem to float in the air, breathless. And then I’m plunging down, down, down … speeding toward the gym floor.

  I close my eyes.

  I brace myself.

  I crash-land.

  Pain shoots through my entire body. As my head hits the floor I actually feel my brain rattle. I am … terrified, but more than that … furious.

  And somehow this eclipses my pain, and actually energizes me.