Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House

by Patti Larsen

Chloe was anxious to contact her friends. She found her netbook, a gift from her father, in her travel bag and plugged it in. To her frustration, however, the old house had dial-up.

  Aunt Larry laughed at Chloe’s complaints. “You’re lucky we have Internet at all,” she said as she cleaned up their dinner. “Got it in about a month ago.”

  Chloe didn’t care. After ten minutes trying to download her email, she gave up. Feeling isolated and angry, she snapped the thing shut.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I’m going to bed, okay?”

  “We’re after time anyway, honey,” Aunt Larry said. “Want me to help you make your bed?”

  “No thanks.” Chloe had been doing that job since she was seven.

  “Sleep tight, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Chloe dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to her room, felt the heat of the day lingering in the upper floors, enjoyed walking into the warmth. She felt like the house itself was welcoming her. She rummaged for her toothbrush and some toothpaste and did a quick job of her teeth in the bathroom back down on the second floor. It was strange to see her toothbrush in the rack.

  Like a vacation, Chloe thought. When we stay at hotels and stuff.

  Only this wasn’t a vacation and her toothbrush was going to be there for a long time.

  Chloe made short work of getting her bed in order. She tried not to remember doing the same job with her mom every Saturday morning and had to stop herself a couple of times from looking over her shoulder, half-expecting Sophie to be standing there watching her with a big smile on her face.

  Her new room was a lot bigger than her old one, the slanted roof making her feel like she was in a giant tent, like in a story. She understood then Aunt Larry’s reference to adventure. Being a world traveller, Aunt Larry must have stayed in places like this many times.

  Once the bed was made, Chloe changed into her pajamas and switched on her favourite lamp before turning off the main light. The room was plunged into an odd half-darkness, the black pushing down against the little lamp. Chloe retrieved her flashlight from her bag along with her parents’ photo and, with some reluctance, the copy of Anne of Green Gables. She snuggled under the covers. The window to the right of her bed, the one facing the ocean, was open to let in the nice breeze. She loved the smell of the Atlantic. She switched out the little lamp, burrowed under the comforter and sheet, and made a bit of a tent for herself. Once positioned, she turned on her flashlight. The cover of the novel and the shiny surface of the photo both winked at her. She was reaching for the book when she heard someone tapping at her window.

  Chloe’s heart leapt. She froze, listening. There it was again! She shivered, not wanting to look but knowing she had to. She peeked over the edge of the comforter, one eye clear. She checked the open window, but there was nothing. She looked at the opposite window. Again, nothing. This time when she heard the tap, she knew it was coming from the last window in the room, the one behind her. Chloe drew a deep breath and sat up, flashlight shining right at it. At first, she couldn’t see anything. Then she heard the tap again. Something was out there. Chloe eased out of bed and snuck to the window. She quivered as she flashed the light outside.

  A large tree branch waved in the breeze, the tip hitting the glass. It tapped at her a couple of times then swayed back. Chloe giggled with relief. She would have to tell Aunt Larry about it tomorrow. That branch had to go.

  Chloe went back to bed. She had settled in her nest when she heard a soft moaning sound. Braver this time, she investigated. Within moments, she was stuffing a stray sock into a tiny crack under the window to her left. Annoyed, she again retreated to her tent of covers.

  She tried to ignore the occasional creak and groan from the house after that. It gave her the willies, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. Instead, she opened the book and started to read. After a few pages, she admitted it was good, but she couldn’t focus on it. She found herself rereading lines and even whole paragraphs because her mind wasn’t in it. She slid the book out onto her bedside table and curled up with her flashlight and the photo.

  Her parents smiled back at her. It was her favourite picture of them. They were both so happy. She remembered the day. They had gone to Lake Ontario for the whole week, stayed in Toronto for part of it and at Marsh’s beloved Niagara Falls. That particular photo was taken outside the zoo. Chloe had been allowed to take it with Patrick’s camera even though she was only eight at the time. She had wanted a picture of them and they had agreed. The next photo on the camera had been of all of them, taken by a nice tourist. But this one was Chloe’s favourite. Her dad had given it to her when they got back, printed in his office on real photo paper. She loved how Sophie’s curly hair had been blown to the side, flowing behind Patrick. The way her dark skin and Patrick’s tan looked almost the same. How her dad’s eyes sparkled in the sun, squinted in the corners because she insisted he take his sunglasses off. Sophie’s right hand was outstretched toward Chloe, her left on Patrick’s shoulder. Her father was laughing.

  Chloe felt the tears well and fought them back. She hadn’t begun this ritual so she could cry. This was her time with her mom and dad, her own time with no one else around to judge or call her crazy or tell her she needed a therapist.

  “Hi, Mom,” Chloe whispered. “Hi, Dad. We made it safe. Sorry I didn’t talk to you last night but I had to share a bed with Aunt Larry and I didn’t want her to hear us. She snores. Kind of like you, Dad.” Chloe felt herself getting choked up. She hated the way her throat got tight and her chest heavy and her eyes burned. “I really miss you. It’s okay here, but it isn’t home. There are lilac bushes and old stuff. Mom, you’d love it. Dad, there’s this big cliff over the ocean and it’s red. It’s cool. I’ll take some pictures if you want.” Chloe choked on a sob. “I just want to go home!” She tried to be quiet, not wanting Aunt Larry to come running. “I can’t see you or visit you because you’re there and I’m here. It’s not fair!”

  Tears ran from her eyes to her hair, tickling her ear. “Aunt Larry is nice, but it’s not the same.” She snuffled, wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her pajamas. “I did meet a kid, though. His name is Marsh. He talks funny, and a lot, like runs off at the mouth, Mom. He has red hair and a ton of freckles. He seems okay. It would be nice to have a friend here.” All of her friends back home seemed so far away. She hadn’t seen any of them since the night of the accident. Aunt Larry told her that their parents were trying to give her time, but Chloe knew the truth. They were protecting them, not for her sake, but from what had happened.

  Chloe stroked her fingers over her parents’ faces. “I love you,” she said. “Aunt Larry said we can go back any time I want to see you. So that’s okay, I guess.”

  Someone sighed. Chloe almost dropped the photo. She felt that same someone sit down on the edge of the bed next to her. It had to be Aunt Larry. She hadn’t meant for her aunt to hear any of that. She pulled back the covers to apologize. As she did, the pressure beside her disappeared. And when Chloe shone her flashlight around the room, there was no one there.

  Trembling, Chloe got out of bed and went to her door. She peeked out into the stairway, but it was empty. She held still, listening, and could hear Aunt Larry moving around the first floor far below her. She knew there was no way it could have been her aunt after all.

  Not sure how to explain it away, Chloe went back to her bed and climbed under the covers. She switched on her bedside light and clutched her flashlight and the photo to her. It was a long time before she was able to fall asleep.

  Chloe woke to the sound of birds in the tree outside her window and soft filtering sunlight that reached around the curtains to warm the end of her bed. She lay there a long time, still holding the flashlight and photo, and thought about what had happened. Certain in the light of day that she had imagined it, she tucked both items under her pillow and switched off her
lamp.

  The smell of breakfast drifted to her from the first floor. She followed the aroma through the quiet of the house to the wide staircase, her nose leading her all the way to the kitchen. She watched Aunt Larry from the doorway, feeling shy. It smelled great, like home. Her aunt turned and smiled at her.

  “I take it you’re hungry?”

  “Yes, please,” Chloe said, feeling hungry for the first time in two weeks.

  “I hope pancakes will do it for you,” Aunt Larry said, depositing two golden rounds onto a plate and pushing syrup and butter toward her. “Fresh bananas,” she gestured with the spatula as she poured more batter into the pan. Chloe helped herself, slicing half the fruit over her pancakes before dropping on a dollop of butter and smothering it all in maple syrup. It tasted divine, chased with ice-cold milk.

  “Good?”

  “Yum!” Chloe smiled and felt it touch her heart. The pancakes were perfect. “Thanks, Aunt Larry.”

  Her aunt flipped two more onto a plate and offered them to her. Chloe wasn’t about to say no.

  She had made it through one more before Aunt Larry had her own ready and was debating another when someone knocked at the kitchen door. Chloe jumped, remembering the night before, then giggled to herself. Aunt Larry laughed.

  “Gave me a start, too,” she admitted. “Come on in!” The last was shouted across the room. Chloe giggled again. Sophie would not have approved. Aunt Larry winked at her as Marsh found his way in.

  “Hi, Larry,” he said. “Hi, Chloe.” The screen door squealed shut behind him. Chloe smelled fresh air coming from him.

  “Good morning, Mr. MacKenzie,” Aunt Larry said. “Have you had breakfast?”

  His eyes lit up. Very soon he was shovelling pancake and butter and syrup into his mouth while Chloe poured him some milk.

  “What brings you by?” Aunt Larry was smiling, still at her own pancakes, though at a much more sedate pace.

  Marsh almost choked, pointing his fork at Chloe as he gulped milk to clear the clog. “Came for her,” he said. “Thought she’d like to have a look around.”

  Chloe looked outside. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, not a cloud to be seen. Full summer weather. Chloe had originally wanted to stay indoors where it was darker and gloomier to match her mood, but she was feeling a lot better now and was actually curious to explore further. She nodded.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Moments after Marsh had cleared his plate with a swipe of his finger and had shoved said finger into his mouth to clean it off, he was dragging Chloe out the kitchen door, onto the deck, and down the path into the garden before she could say goodbye to Aunt Larry. Her aunt stood in the window and waved.

  “Have fun!” she called after them.

  Their first stop was the beach. Chloe found it scary going down the rickety staircase hammered into the rock. She was not fond of heights and was nervous when her flip-flops caught on the rough wood. She tried to keep up, but Marsh was a grasshopper, bounding his way down with abandon. He paused now and then to wait for her, then bounced over a few more steps, waiting like an eager puppy. Chloe was relieved when they reached the bottom. She was out of breath and her legs were weak, with a pronounced wobble from the steady descent.

  Marsh, however, didn’t give her time to recover. He pulled her over the warm red sand. The tide was further out than the day before, a huge bank of sandbars reaching far out into the water.

  “The ocean is nice,” she said.

  Marsh snorted. “This isn’t the ocean,” he informed her. “This is the Northumberland Strait. Have to go all the way to the north shore to see the ocean.”

  Chloe was surprised. “Is it far?”

  “Oh, yeah, super far, like at least twenty kilometres.” He moved off as Chloe smiled to herself. She had to go that far to get to school in Ottawa. What odd people Islanders were.

  The beach was a wonder. Natural caves were carved out of the soft sandstone in places. Up higher, seabirds dug holes in the cliff for their nests. Chloe stood and watched them for a while as they spun and danced above her before diving with perfect accuracy back home.

  Marsh showed her where their family had a bonfire pit. They would come down sometimes and make s’mores while his father played guitar and they all sang. When Chloe asked how many were in his family she was stunned by his reply.

  “Seven,” he said. “Kids, anyway. Then there’s Mom and Dad. Oh, and cousins and aunts and uncles. And Nanny.” He rolled his eyes. “Tons of people. You’ll meet them all.”

  Chloe, as an only child, wondered what it would have been like to have a brother or sister to go through her sadness with her.

  Marsh didn’t notice she was quiet. In fact, she was sure he was never quiet, so the fact he didn’t even register her silence suited her down to the ground. “Trouble is, my brothers are a lot older than me and my sisters don’t like to hang out. They like girl stuff too much.” He made a face then turned to Chloe. “Sorry, um, I know you’re a girl.”

  She smiled. “Yeah,” she said.

  “But you’re cool,” he said. “You know. Not a scaredy cat. Or whiny. More… ”

  “Thanks,” Chloe said, knowing he was trying and deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Marsh shrugged and grinned at her. “The sand bars are the best part!”

  He dashed off into the water, leaving her to follow yet again. The water between the sandbars was very warm and full of life. Chloe wished she had worn her bathing suit, but at least her shorts were short enough to stay dry. Marsh showed her the tiny holes where clams lived and taught her how to make them squirt by stepping close.

  They came across a crab. Marsh gave stern warnings while teasing the thing with a stick. He also told her about jellyfish (he called them bloodsuckers) and how their stingers could wrap around you even when it seemed they were far away. Chloe was losing her enthusiasm for swimming in the ocean. Too much stuff to think about.

  By the time the sun was high, the tide was coming back in and Chloe was tired. She missed her sunglasses and was getting a headache from the glare on the water. With some reluctance, Marsh agreed to go.

  “Not as much fun on my own,” he admitted. She felt bad, but not enough to change her mind.

  Marsh pointed to a second stairway, in no better condition, further down the beach toward his house. “I go that way,” he said. “Hey, why don’t you come home with me for lunch? Mom would love to meet you.”

  “Thanks,” Chloe said, trying to let him down easy. The last thing she wanted was to spend lunch trying to make small talk with Marsh’s mother. He was okay, but what if his mom wanted to talk about the accident? “I think I’m going to go home.”

  Marsh’s face fell, but he didn’t seem to take it personally.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though, right?” He was already off before she could answer. He waved and smiled so she waved and smiled back. She watched him until he reached the staircase before she headed home.

  Chloe panted her way to the top of the stairs. By the time she reached the edge of the cliff, she was very tired. So tired, in fact, she collapsed on the grass for a minute to catch her breath. The stiff breeze that came in from the water cooled her as much as the earth beneath the thick grass. Between her toes was a great deal of the odd clinging clay that sat in sucking patches near the rocks and she had sand on her feet. She used handfuls of grass to wipe them clean. She found an outdoor faucet in the garden by the shed and used it to rinse the rest off, squealing at the ice-cold water. By the time she made it to the house, she was ready for lunch.

  She knew by the quiet that Aunt Larry was gone. She checked the driveway through the kitchen window. Her aunt’s hatchback hybrid was missing. Stomach rumbling, she moped to the island, trying to decide what to do. She was capable of making her own lunch, but this was the first time she was
alone in the house and she wanted Aunt Larry there. She found a note next to the fruit bowl and did her best to decipher the terrible handwriting.

  Gone to get some groceries and catch up on errands. Left you lunch in the microwave in case you didn’t go to the MacKenzies’ (figured Marsh would ask). See you this afternoon. Hope you had fun! Love, Aunt L

  She had drawn a crooked heart in the bottom right-hand corner and filled it in with red pen. It made Chloe smile, dark mood and all. She went to the microwave and investigated. A plate of macaroni and cheese glowed at her. She heated it, poured another glass of milk, and devoured it all so fast it made her think of Marsh.

  After lunch, Chloe debated what to do. Now that she was full and rested, she was bored. She sort of regretted not going with Marsh, but on the other hand knew he was part of the reason she was so tired. She again attempted to get her emails but gave up, leaving the computer on to do its work. She read a few chapters of Anne of Green Gables, finding herself giggling in places and feeling sorry for the girl in others, but felt restless. In the late afternoon, she put on socks and sneakers and went outside.

  The cliff called to her. She went to the edge again. The water was in all the way, the waves lapping at the shore. It was quieter than the night before, but she could still hear the rush and sigh of it. Chloe started walking, the opposite direction from Marsh’s. The wind was softer than it had been that morning, but still pushed her hair into her mouth from time to time. She came to the long, neglected grass as she left the property and was glad she had changed from her flip-flops. The cliff continued in a slight curve for what looked like miles. Lost in the sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean, Chloe kept walking, the tall green stalks slapping against her bare legs as she gathered handfuls of the soft tops to sift through her fingers.

  When she encountered an old, rundown barbed-wire fence, she didn’t think twice. It was so dilapidated she almost missed it, the toe of her sneaker meeting one of the fallen posts. It saved her from tripping and hurting herself on the wire. She hopped over and continued on.