by Jason Hawes
The whole team was laughing when Jason switched off the speakerphone.
“Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Johnston said. She and her husband were sitting side by side on the couch.
Jason introduced the team to the Johnstons. Lyssa always felt proud when he called her the chief interviewer. Then Jen and the Hammond twins went outside to start unloading the equipment.
“So,” Mr. Johnston said, “what happens now?”
“We’d like to speak with your daughter,” Lyssa said. “She seems to be at the center of whatever is going on here.”
“She’s in her room,” Mrs. Johnston said. “I’ll take you up. Follow me.”
Lyssa stood up, but Jason and Grant stayed in their chairs.
“You go ahead,” Jason said. “Grant and I will stay with Mr. Johnston and take a tour of the downstairs.”
“Okay.” Lyssa nodded. Her heart pounded as she followed Mrs. Johnston up the stairs. She felt fluttery. Is there really a ghost up here?
“Most of the sightings were upstairs, right?” she asked. Her legs felt a little shaky as they climbed the stairs.
“Yes. That’s right,” Mrs. Johnston said, nodding. “We sometimes hear noises in the rest of the house. But all the sightings have been in or around Miranda’s room.”
Lyssa and Mrs. Johnston reached the upstairs hall. Thick carpet muffled the sound of their footsteps.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Johnston said. She pushed open the first door on the right.
Lyssa took a deep breath and peeked into the room. She could see a young girl sitting on a fluffy pink area rug. Miranda Johnston had the palest blond hair Lyssa had ever seen. So pale, it was almost white.
Miranda was looking down at the stuffed polar bear she held in her lap. There was a child’s tea set on the rug in front of her.
“Miranda,” Mrs. Johnston said. “Sweetheart, this is one of the people Daddy and I told you about. Her name is Lyssa. She wants to talk to you about Grandma Helen.”
Miranda Johnston looked up. Lyssa felt a strange chill down her spine. Miranda’s eyes were bright blue and shiny, like doll eyes. They seemed to glow in the light from above.
“I can’t talk about Grandma Helen right now,” Miranda said in a high, clear voice. “Polar Bear and I are having a tea party.”
Those amazing blue eyes beamed into Lyssa’s. “You’re not invited.”
Okay, Lyssa thought.
“That’s all right,” she said. She kept her voice friendly and cheerful. “Could I wait until you’re done? I really love stuffed animals.” She saw that Miranda’s bed was covered with them. “Would it be okay with you if I played with them a little?” Lyssa asked.
“Which one is your favorite?” Miranda asked. “If you could pick one. But you can’t. They’re mine.”
“This one, I think,” Lyssa said. She held up an orange striped cat with long white whiskers.
“Yes! That’s Henry,” Miranda said. “He’s my favorite, except for Polar Bear.”
Lyssa smiled. Way to go, Lyssa!
Miranda lifted the bear so that his mouth was to her ear. “Okay,” she said, and nodded to the bear. “I’ll tell her.” She put Polar Bear back down into her lap. “Polar Bear says you can come to the party. Bring Henry with you.”
“Thanks, Miranda,” Lyssa said. “Henry, would you like to come to a tea party?” She put the cat next to her ear. “He says he’d love to come.”
Lyssa sat down across from Miranda on the fluffy pink rug.
“Henry will meow, if you squeeze him just right,” Miranda explained. “Grandma Helen gave him to me. Polar Bear too. She showed me how. But don’t do it. It’s not polite to meow at a tea party.”
“Okay,” Lyssa said. “Good to know.”
For the next several minutes, she and Miranda played tea party with the stuffed animals. Miranda’s mother paced back and forth near the door.
“Does Grandma Helen ever come to your tea parties?” Lyssa finally asked. She thought the timing was right. Miranda seemed comfortable with her now.
Miranda shook her head. “Not anymore.” She lifted a tiny cup to Polar Bear’s mouth, pretending he was taking a sip. “Not since she died.”
“But she does come to see you, doesn’t she?” Lyssa asked.
Miranda nodded. “Mostly, she comes at night. After Mommy and Daddy go to bed. I have to stay awake a long time. Sometimes it’s really hard to keep my eyes open.”
She shot a look in her mother’s direction. “You’re not mad, are you, Mommy? That I stay up past my bedtime?”
Mrs. Johnston shook her head. “Of course not, sweetheart.”
“Do you know why Grandma Helen comes to see you?” Lyssa asked.
Lyssa knew this was a very important question. Grant and Jason said many times that ghosts are just people. Often they appear to living people because they need something.
If Lyssa could figure out why Grandma Helen returned night after night, maybe the team could decide how to help her pass on. Sometimes that’s all a spirit wants. A little help to go to her rest.
Miranda shook her head. “No. I don’t know why she comes. Sometimes I think she wants to tell me. But she never stays very long.”
Miranda sighed. “I’m tired of playing this game,” she announced. “I’m hungry. I want a snack. Chocolate graham crackers are my favorite.”
She set Polar Bear down on the rug and stood up. Then she held out a hand for Lyssa. Lyssa climbed to her feet and took Miranda’s hand.
“We have to go to the kitchen,” the four-year-old said. “I can show you all the places I see Grandma Helen.”
“But sweetheart—” Miranda’s mother spoke up. “Maybe this is enough for now?”
Miranda’s blue eyes flashed. “Don’t be such a Little Louie Worrywart, Mommy!” she scolded.
Her mother gasped. Lyssa saw the woman’s whole body shudder.
“Miranda, where did you hear that?” Mrs. Johnston cried. “How can you know that? How? ”
“I’m sorry,” Lyssa said. “What did Miranda say?”
“Little Louie Worrywart. It’s a nickname Helen gave to Miranda’s dad when he was a little boy. Grandma Helen and I are the only ones who know that name. There is no way Miranda could know it.”
Miranda let go of Lyssa’s hand and darted for the bedroom door. But when she reached it, she turned back. Her bright blue eyes grew wide.
“Of course I know that,” Miranda said. “Grandma Helen told me.”
Then she skipped through the doorway and was gone.
“Okay,” Jason said. “Everybody ready to go dark?”
The team huddled together in the front hall of the house. Lyssa could see the living room and dining room to the right. The steps that led to Miranda’s bedroom were dead ahead.
Dead ahead. Very funny, Lyssa, she thought.
Jason pointed at Jennifer. She flipped a wall switch.
The overhead lights in the Johnston living room went off. Lyssa blinked in the sudden darkness.
The only lights in the whole house were the flashing clock on the TV, the faint flicker of the computer monitors, and Miranda’s night-light in the upstairs hall.
Miranda was asleep. Her parents were in their bedroom, trying to sleep as well.
There was silence as Lyssa’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.
“Oh, man,” Mike Hammond whispered. “I love this part.”
Lyssa chuckled, then clapped a hand across her mouth. Mike was right. Going dark was always exciting. It meant the real reason they were here was about to start. Lyssa stood perfectly still. She tried to reach out with senses other than her eyes.
She could hear the grandfather clock in the living room. Tick. Tick. She heard the other team members breathing in and out. The floor overhead creaked. Footsteps? No. Lyssa knew it was just one of the noises a house makes. The refrigerator in the kitchen came on with a loud, metallic rattle.
Lyssa’s skin tingled. All of her senses were alive.
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nbsp; “All right, everyone. You know the drill,” Jason said in a whisper.
Lyssa let out a breath. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding it in.
“Grandma Helen usually appears in Miranda’s room close to midnight. If that happens tonight, the thermal camera and the motion sensors should pick it up.”
“And we’ll be able to see any activity on the computer monitors I set up in the dining room,” Jen said.
“Okay,” Grant said. “Why don’t you keep an eye on that for us? Take the twins with you.”
“Roger that,” Jen said. “C’mon, guys.”
Jen and the Hammonds walked into the dining room. Lyssa could see them from the hall. She watched Jen sit down at the table. The twins stood leaning over her shoulder. All three stared at the computer screens. The light from the screens gave their faces an eerie green glow.
Creepy, thought Lyssa.
“All right,” Jason said. “I’m going to try to make contact with Helen.”
He began to speak in a low, clear voice.…
“My name is Jason Hawes. I am here with Grant Wilson and Lyssa Frye. We were invited here by the Johnston family to try and contact Helen Johnston.
“Helen, if you can hear me, I want you to know that your family is worried. They know you do not mean them any harm. And we do not mean to harm or upset you. But they do not know why you are here.
“Helen, are you in the house with us now? Can you give us some sign to show us you are here?”
He paused.
Silence.
The silence feels different—almost like someone is listening, Lyssa thought.
Jason nodded in her direction.
She spoke up. “Helen, this is Lyssa Frye. I have one of Miranda’s stuffed animals.”
She held up Henry the cat. Slowly Lyssa walked over to the stairs and set Henry on the bottom step. Then she backed away.
“Miranda says you gave Henry to her. If you’re here with us, could you make Henry meow? It doesn’t take much strength. I know you can do this, Helen. Miranda says you showed her how.”
BANG!
The sound made Lyssa shriek. She spun around.
Bang. Bang. Bang. BANG!
“What’s that?” she whispered. “Where’s it coming from?”
“I think it’s coming from the kitchen,” Mark called from the dining room. He came striding out, holding his thermal camera in front of him.
A swinging door separated the kitchen from the dining room. The door was closed.
“Definitely getting something on the camera,” Mark reported.
“Could just be the fridge,” Mike reminded them. “A refrigerator gives off warmth that could register on the camera.”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Lyssa’s heart thudded in her chest. Mark took a quick step back.
“Jay and I will go check it out,” Grant said. He and Jason moved forward cautiously, walking on tiptoe.
They look like they’re stalking something, Lyssa thought. No, that’s not right. They’re hunting.
Hunting ghosts.
Grant reached out and pushed open the swinging door. He and Jason stepped through it. With a whoosh, the door swung closed behind them.
Grant and Jason vanished from sight.
Lyssa’s skin tingled. The silence rang in her ears. The air suddenly felt heavy and damp. She stared at the kitchen door without blinking.
Listening… Waiting…
I don’t want to be alone out here! Lyssa thought.
She shook off her fear and walked into the dining room. She stood beside the Hammond twins, who were still hovering around Jen’s monitors.
Lyssa could see Jason and Grant on the screen now. They looked like black-and-white shadow figures. When they faced the camera, their eyes were solid white.
The banging had stopped. Lyssa could hear Jason’s voice in the kitchen as he tried to make contact with Grandma Helen.
“Hey, Mike,” Mark whispered. “You remember the time we thought our great-aunt Nancy came back? That’s what this reminds me of. Now that was scary!”
“No way,” Mike replied. “I thought Great-Aunt Nancy was a whole lot scarier when she was alive!”
“Well, Aunt Nancy did—”
“—talk more,” Mike finished his sentence.
“I was going to say that,” Mark said.
“I know.”
“Shhhh, guys,” Lyssa whispered.
“Whoa. Sorry,” Mike said.
“Guys, look! Up there!” Lyssa pointed to the stairs. “Is it just me, or does it look brighter up there?” she whispered.
“It isn’t just you,” Mike replied.
Lyssa moved into the front hall. She walked slowly, holding a video camera in front of her. She sensed one of the twins moving behind her.
Lyssa could see into the living room and up the stairs to the second floor now. She stopped so abruptly that Mark bumped into her.
“Oops. Sorry,” he murmured.
At the top of the stairs Lyssa could see faint greenish blue lights. They floated in the darkness above the stairs.
“Are you seeing this?” she whispered.
“Oh, yeah,” Mark whispered, close behind her.
The greenish blue dots of light continued to hover. Lyssa glanced down at her camera to see how they showed up there.
Nothing. She couldn’t see them on the view screen. And when she glanced up again, the glowing shapes were gone.
“That was so cool!” she cried. “I’ve never seen orbs before.”
“Those weren’t orbs. More likely plasma lights,” Mark said. “Lights caused by a high energy level.”
Lyssa turned to face him. “A high energy level could mean something is up there,” she said.
But Mark didn’t answer. He was staring straight ahead.
The back of Lyssa’s neck prickled. She slowly turned around.
A figure in white stood at the top of the stairs. It seemed to hover above the top step.
Feet. I don’t see any feet! Lyssa thought.
The figure started down.
One step.
Another step.
It’s coming toward us!
Don’t move! Lyssa told herself. Don’t run away. You’re a Ghost Hunter.
“Thirsty,” the figure said in a high, clear voice. “Can I have a drink of water?”
“Of course you can have a drink of water, Miranda,” Lyssa said. Her voice came out in a croak. Maybe I should get a drink of water too, she thought. Her throat was as dry as a bone.
She watched as Miranda continued down the stairs.
“Watch she doesn’t trip over that nightgown,” Mark warned.
Miranda’s nightgown was way too long. Her mom had probably bought it for her to grow into.
That’s why it looked as if she had no feet! Lyssa realized.
Lyssa moved to the bottom of the stairs and held out a hand. “Would you like to go together?” she said.
Miranda took Lyssa’s hand.
“Can I have my favorite cup?” she asked.
“Why not?” Lyssa replied. The two walked toward the kitchen. “You’ll have to show me which one it is.”
“That’s easy,” Miranda said. “It has a picture of me on it. It was a present for Grandma Helen. But it’s ours now because she died. She’s in the spare bedroom now.”
Lyssa stopped walking. “What?”
Miranda stopped too. She gazed up at Lyssa. In the dim light, her blue eyes looked like two shiny buttons.
“Grandma Helen is in the spare bedroom,” Miranda repeated. “I saw her. Before I came down.” Lyssa froze. Her mouth dropped open.
Miranda gave Lyssa a push to get her moving again. “Don’t stop here. I’m thirsty,” she said. “Come on.”
“Hello, Miranda.” Lyssa heard Grant’s voice. “What are you doing up?”
“She got up for a drink of water,” Lyssa replied. “She says Grandma Helen is in the upstairs spare bedroom.”
/> Miranda let go of Lyssa’s hand. “Don’t do that,” she cried, stamping her foot. “Mommy always does that, and I hate it. I can talk for myself! I was saving the most important part for last. Now I might not tell you at all.”
Lyssa felt a chill sweep over her. Did she just make a big mistake? Did she ruin the team’s best chance to find out what Grandma Helen wanted?
“You’re right. I hate that too,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Miranda refused to look at Lyssa.
“What were you going to tell me?” Lyssa asked.
Miranda remained silent.
“Does it have something to do with Grandma Helen?” Lyssa whispered.
Miranda lifted her eyes to meet Lyssa’s gaze but said nothing.
“Are we still friends?” Lyssa asked again.
Miranda nodded.
“Good. I’m so glad,” Lyssa said.
Miranda twisted a lock of hair around her finger. Then finally she said: “Grandma Helen wants it. She told me she won’t go away until she finds it. Can I have my drink of water now?”
The rest of the night was quiet. Grant decided to pack up the equipment at dawn. Then he and Jason sent the team home to get some sleep.
The plan: to meet back at the TAPS office at 14:00 hours—two o’clock.
“Okay,” Grant said when everyone gathered again. “Are you ready to go over the evidence?”
The team members sat around the oval table in the conference room, once a big bedroom, at the back of the house.
“Can we start with the audio from Miranda’s room?” Lyssa asked.
“Sure,” Jen said with a smile. “I think we’re all eager to find out what happened in Miranda’s room right before she came downstairs.”
Jen clicked on the digital recorder in front of her on the table. “Okay. Here we go.”
At first, there was no sound at all. Then Lyssa could hear little things. Sounds that probably meant Miranda was rolling over in bed. Maybe even sitting up.
Then, all of a sudden, they heard Miranda’s soft whisper.
“Grandma, is that you?”
“We can hear so clearly,” Lyssa murmured. “Downstairs, I couldn’t hear a sound.”
“The equipment is super-sensitive,” Jen said.