“I like that picture the best,” Vita said. “Did you know Miss Wolfson volunteers at the new hospital building and donates money to families with sick children?” she asked Jessie.
“That’s very nice of you,” Jessie told Miss Wolfson.
Miss Wolfson said, “It’s a worthy cause.”
“I think we should put the hospital images on the movie poster,” Vita said. “I’d like to print the two pictures side by side; this one from then and a new one to show what the building looks like now. We can sell the posters to help the hospital raise money.”
“The hospital always needs money,” Miss Wolfson said, considering it. “I do what I can to help, but it’s never enough.”
“I’ll add music to the movie,” Vita said. “And we can interview families about the hospital.”
While Vita and Miss Wolfson talked about the hospital pictures, Henry handed Jessie another old photograph. This one was of the cemetery’s front gate. It was taken so many years earlier hardly any moss was growing on the tombstones. With the sun shining, the cemetery looked like a beautiful park, not a scary place for ghosts to lurk.
“There was someone spooky in the cemetery today.” Benny told Miss Wolfson about the figure they’d seen. “They were by the moose-e-lum,” he said.
“Mausoleum, you mean?” Miss Wolfson asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t think it was a ghost,” Jessie said. “There were flowers on the steps. I’ve been thinking that whoever we saw probably was there to leave the bouquets.”
“Hmm.” Miss Wolfson pressed her lips together. “The LaFonte family had that monument specially built.” She glanced away from Benny toward the window. “But there are no LaFonte family members left in Greenfield. I don’t know who might have left flowers—” She paused to consider. “You know, some people say the cemetery is haunted.”
“Really?” Violet’s eyes widened.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Benny told Miss Wolfson. “Watch was scared though.”
“Is that so?” Miss Wolfson asked, glancing down at the terrier.
The door to the café burst open with the wind. A young man wearing a black jacket and hood was standing in the doorway.
After a long look around at the faces in the shop, the boy marched over to Miss Wolfson and introduced himself. “I’m Marcus Michelson,” he said. “I’m a new student at the university. Are you Miss Wolfson?”
“I am,” she said.
Benny stood and let Marcus have his place. He sat back down, sharing the edge of Violet’s seat.
“I think Marcus is the figure we saw in the cemetery,” Henry whispered to Jessie. “He’s the right height and he has the right color jacket.”
“I’m interested in Greenfield history,” Marcus Michelson told Miss Wolfson. He pushed back his coat’s hood to reveal short blond hair.
“Is that why you were in the cemetery?” Henry interrupted. Marcus turned to face him. “We saw you standing by the LaFonte mausoleum.”
“It couldn’t have been me. I never went into the cemetery,” Marcus insisted. His green eyes grew wide. “I was outside the gate when I saw a strange figure all dressed in black. I thought it was very suspicious, so I followed—” He looked around the coffee shop. “I was certain whoever it was ducked in here.” Marcus shook his head. “I looked around but didn’t see anyone who might fit the description. Then I noticed Miss Wolfson.” He caught her eye and said, “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“How can I help you?” Mrs. Wolfson asked.
“Well, I—” Marcus began when suddenly the lights in the coffee shop flickered off. The room plunged into darkness.
Watch jumped onto Jessie’s lap.
Benny gave Violet a hug and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“I’ll protect you too,” Violet said, hugging him back.
When the lights came back on a few moments later, a woman screamed.
Her husband, pale and shaken, pointed to the window behind Henry’s head.
A single lily lay across the windowsill. The raindrops on the window glittered on the glass, making the flower shine eerily.
Vita pressed a button on her camera. “Scoot over, please, Jessie,” she said, holding the lens to her eye. “I want to record this.”
“What’s going on?” Jessie asked Miss Wolfson.
Miss Wolfson stared at the flower. She studied the frightened faces of the people in the café. Then she looked directly into the lens of Vita’s camera and announced, “The LaFonte ghost has returned.”
Chapter 3
The LaFonte Mausoleum
“Who’s the LaFonte ghost?” Henry asked Miss Wolfson.
“A g-g-ghost?” Benny asked. “There’s a real ghost in Greenfield?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Jessie said.
Benny raised his shoulders. “That was before we saw something in the cemetery and the lights went out and…that!” He pointed at the flower. “I’ve changed my mind.” Benny shivered and whispered in Watch’s ear, “Ghosts. Yikes.”
People in the café gathered around Miss Wolfson as she began to share a bit of history.
“Today is the seventy-fifth anniversary of the death of Madame Jacqueline LaFonte,” she told the crowd.
“She was the dressmaker.” Jessie picked up the historic photograph of the LaFonte shop on Main Street.
“Yes.” Miss Wolfson went on, saying, “Women would come to have dresses made, then stay for tea and conversation.” With a small smile she added, “Madame LaFonte was known to give very good advice. Some people even say Jacqueline was a fortune-teller.”
“Very interesting,” Jessie said, setting the photo on the table and taking a notebook out of her small purse. Jessie wrote down Madame Jacqueline LaFonte’s name as a reminder to see if she could find any information about her online. Jessie liked to research interesting people.
“Ever since the first anniversary of her death, people in Greenfield have believed that Jacqueline LaFonte’s ghost haunts the cemetery,” Miss Wolfson said.
“Ooh,” Vita said, recording the café conversation. “A ghost story is way more interesting than a historical society film.” She stood on a chair to get a good view of the room through her camera. She focused her lens on the most frightened expressions.
The door to the café opened and Grandfather Alden walked in. “Looks like I’m interrupting an important meeting,” he remarked as he closed his umbrella. He walked over to Henry and asked, “What’s going on?”
Henry pointed to the windowsill.
“Ah,” Grandfather said, stepping over to Miss Wolfson. “It’s the three-day warning?”
The historian nodded.
At Jessie’s questioning look, Grandfather explained, “Every year around Halloween, white lilies are placed on the LaFonte grave. After that, a lily appears somewhere in town. It’s said that lilies were Jacqueline LaFonte’s favorite flower. But some people also believe that lilies are a symbol of death.” Grandfather said.
He continued. “After the flower shows up, everyone has three days to bring gifts to the LaFonte mausoleum. Those who leave gifts get a year of good fortune. Those who ignore the warning receive nothing but bad luck all year.”
Miss Wolfson clarified. “Gifts can be food, silver, money, jewelry—anything to make Jacqueline’s ghost happy.”
Benny got up and moved to stand near Grandfather. There were goose bumps along his arms. “I like gifts,” he said in a shaky voice.
“So does the ghost,” Miss Wolfson told Benny.
“Nonsense,” Grandfather Alden cut in. “I’ve known this ghost story my whole life. There’s no LaFonte ghost. Bad things happen to people sometimes—that’s just the way life is. Good things happen too. It doesn’t matter whether or not someone leaves presents in the
cemetery.”
“You’re wrong. The ghost is real.” A well-dressed woman in the back of the room stood up. She looked directly at Grandfather and asked, “Ever hear of Patricia Wilson? Patty didn’t heed the warning, never left a gift, and she…disappeared!”
Several people in the room gasped.
“That’s an old made-up rumor from the year after Jacqueline’s death,” Mr. Randy said from behind the cash register. “Patricia Wilson didn’t disappear. My mother was a child back then and knew her.”
Miss Wolfson pointed out Mr. Randy’s mother in the photo taken in front of the old school house, a girl who looked to be about Violet’s age.
“Mama knew Patty,” Mr. Randy said in a booming voice that filled the café. “She told me that Patty left town on her own.”
The woman turned to face Mr. Randy. “Believe what you want,” she said, gathering her coat and scarf. “I won’t risk having a year of bad luck. I’m going to put a gift at the cemetery tomorrow.”
“What do you think?” Henry asked Jessie as people in the café began to discuss whether or not they were going to set out gifts for the ghost.
Jessie looked down at her notebook where she’d written Jacqueline LaFonte’s name. On the next line, she wrote Patricia Wilson. And below that she drew a giant question mark.
“I’d like to learn more about the ghost,” Jessie replied.
“And the gifts,” Benny chimed in.
“We should go back to the cemetery,” Henry suggested as a streak of lightning flashed across the sky outside the café.
“Can we go tomorrow?” Benny asked, patting his belly. “Now it really is dinner-time, and I’m starved! I’m extra brave when my tummy’s full.” He shivered again. “Ghosts. Yikes.”
“The cemetery won’t be so creepy in the daylight,” Violet agreed.
Henry looked at the white lily and its reflection in the window glass. “We’ll start ghost hunting tomorrow morning,” he said.
Jessie quickly peeked over at Benny and added, “Right after breakfast.”
“Perfect!” Benny grinned as they followed Grandfather to the car for the ride home.
Chapter 4
Gifts for Ghosts
“Isn’t that Marcus Michelson?” Violet pointed toward the cemetery gate. She was walking with Jessie and her brothers. Marcus was coming straight toward them.
Jessie checked the time. They’d left home just after breakfast as planned. “He’s out early,” she remarked. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
It wasn’t raining anymore, but it was still cold. Marcus was wearing the same dark jacket as the evening before, but now his hood was down. In his hands he carried a cardboard box.
Benny was holding Watch’s leash. When Watch saw Marcus, he tugged forward, pulling out of Benny’s hand and running down the sidewalk.
Marcus wasn’t paying attention and stumbled backward when Watch jumped up to greet him.
“Whoa!” Marcus said, dropping the box as Watch’s leash tangled around his ankles. The lid on the box popped open and the contents spilled out. Two silver candlesticks lay on the sidewalk.
Henry rushed after the dog. “Sorry,” he told Marcus.
“Watch just wants to make a new friend,” Benny said. “He’s a happy dog.”
Henry unwound the leash then handed the end to Jessie.
“Are you all right?” Violet asked. Marcus seemed distracted. His eyes were darting around the area, not focusing on any one thing.
“I’m fine. I have to go.” Marcus collected the candlesticks and set them carefully back into the box. “Now we’ll see,” he muttered to himself and then, without another word to the Aldens, he stomped through the cemetery gates.
Jessie watched him go.
“I think we should follow him,” Henry suggested. “It looks like he’s going to the LaFonte mausoleum.”
“Do you think the candlesticks are a gift for the ghost?” Benny asked. “Do you think we should leave a gift too?”
“Grandfather said it’s all made up,” Henry reminded Benny. “No such thing as the LaFonte ghost.”
“Lots of people believe the ghost is real.” Benny lowered his voice and added, “And Patty Wilson disappeared…”
“She might have just left town,” Jessie said.
“I agree with Benny,” Violet admitted. “Until we know for sure what happened to Patty Wilson, I think we should leave a gift too.”
“When we get home, I’ll find a nice present for the ghost. Just in case she’s real,” Benny told Violet. “We don’t want any bad luck.”
The children entered the cemetery and stayed hidden in a grove of trees near the mausoleum. They watched as Marcus set down his box and removed the candlesticks. He carefully arranged them near a column then picked up the empty box and walked away.
“What do you think is going to happen to Marcus’s gift?” Violet asked Henry.
“I think someone will come and get it,” Henry replied. “Then we will know who is pretending to be the ghost.”
“Isn’t that stealing?” Jessie asked. “I mean, if someone invented a ghost to scare people into leaving food and silver and jewelry, then sneak in and collect it all—that seems like stealing to me.”
“Right,” Henry agreed. “The person who is doing this is definitely a thief.”
“It’s a ghost,” Benny argued. “Not a thief.”
“Where would the ghost put all those presents?” Henry asked.
“The ghost makes them magically disappear,” Benny said.
“Magically disappear to where?” Henry pressed Benny to think about his answer. “People have been leaving things for the LaFonte ghost for seventy-four years. That’s a lot of gifts.”
“Not too many,” Benny replied. “If I got presents on my birthday and at Christmas every year, I’d never run out of places to put all my gifts,” Benny said. “They could all fit in the toy box and under the bed and in the closet.” He smiled. “I have plenty of room for a hundred years of presents.”
“You’re funny,” Henry said. “But ghosts don’t have beds and closets. I think we need to stay here all day to see who’s taking the gifts and prove there is no ghost.”
“Maybe we can find out where the thief is putting the presents and return them to their owners,” Jessie suggested.
“If we catch a person pretending to be a ghost, I won’t believe in ghosts,” Violet said very practically. “And if we see a real ghost, then I will believe in them.”
“Ghosts. Yikes,” Benny said as they searched for a better place to hide.
Jessie and Violet found a good spot in the old grove of trees where they could keep an eye on Marcus’s candlesticks. Benny climbed up one of the trees for a better view.
Since they were going to be there all day, Henry ran home to take Watch back and pick up a pair of binoculars. He returned right away.
Hours later, Violet was bored. Besides Marcus, no one else had come to leave gifts at the mausoleum and Marcus’s candlesticks were still sitting there. “I am beginning to think there’s no ghost and no thief,” she said. “Nothing interesting is going on.”
“I’m cold,” Jessie said. She’d left her hat at home and forgotten to ask Henry to pick it up when he went back.
Violet sneezed. “I’m cold too.”
“And I’m hungry,” Benny called down from the tree branch where he was camped out.
“I brought you lunch,” Henry said, looking up at his brother.
“But that was hours ago,” Benny said.
“And I brought snacks.” Henry pointed at a trash bag filled with empty granola bar wrappers.
“We ran out ten minutes ago,” Benny said with a sigh. “I ate them all.”
“Hang in there,” Henry told his siblings. “We can’t give up yet. Something is going to ha
ppen—” Just then, he saw movement near the mausoleum. Henry put the binoculars to his eyes and adjusted the focus.
“What do you see?” Benny asked, sitting up straight and leaning forward. “Is it the ghost?”
“Or a person?” Jessie squinted in the direction Henry was looking.
Henry said, “I saw someone behind a tree. But just his or her arm—a black coat sleeve. Then it disappeared.”
“A ghost,” Benny said surely.
“A person,” Jessie said, also certain.
Violet didn’t take a side. She sneezed again instead.
“Get out!” A spooky voice called through the trees.
“Ghost!” Benny leapt down from the tree, knocking down Jessie.
“Person,” Jessie said, getting up and turning him around to face Mrs. Radcliffe, the graveyard caretaker.
“Leave!” Mrs. Radcliffe pointed her long bony finger to the exit gate. “You are not welcome in my cemetery.” Hunched over, wearing a black cloak, Mrs. Radcliffe looked like the wicked witch in the Hansel and Gretel story.
“We’re watching for the LaFonte ghost,” Henry said. “We’re going to prove she’s fake.”
Mrs. Radcliffe shook her head. “Ghosts are supposed to scare people…” She muttered, “I’ve already chased someone else away. Now you all need to go too.”
“Someone was hiding in the cemetery?” Violet asked. “Who?”
“I wish you’d all go away!” Mrs. Radcliffe said. “Everyone is leaving trash around, trampling on my grass, stepping on the flowers…” She didn’t answer Violet’s question. “I have to clean up. More work for me.”
She led them to the gate and warned, “Stay outside the cemetery. I don’t want you traipsing all over the place and climbing my trees! Leave my ghosts alone!”
“Ghosts?” Violet asked after Mrs. Radcliffe was gone. “Like more than one?”
“I don’t think she really means that the cemetery is full of ghosts,” Jessie said. “I think she’s just trying to scare us away.”
“It worked. I don’t want to go back to the cemetery ever!” Benny gritted his teeth. “That lady is scarier than a ghost!”
Return of the Graveyard Ghost Page 2