“That’s not one of the cheapo ones,” Luke agreed.
“Look how cute its face is!” Avery exclaimed. “And it’s even bigger than I am.”
“Maybe we should hang you up as a prize,” Garrett teased.
“I’d be an excellent prize.” Avery was at least six inches shorter than all of us, but she didn’t care. She was a gymnast, and gymnasts needed to be tiny to do all those flips.
“Hey, there.” Mason had appeared along with Lily.
“Hi,” I said. Was he in a better mood today?
“David said we need to wait a while, but then he can get us in. Everyone, this is Mason.” Lily introduced the group.
“Aves, I can win you that bear,” Miranda boasted.
“No, you can’t,” Luke said.
“Have you ever seen her pitch a softball?” I asked. “Miranda has a killer arm.”
“The game is about aim, not about force,” Luke retorted.
“Let’s do it!” Miranda said. She loved a challenge.
“You’re on,” Luke agreed.
We all followed them to the booth. Nate stayed behind to hold our place in line.
Luke went first. The big green bear could only be won by knocking down all three bottles three times in a row. Lily darted away from my side, leaving Mason next to me. She grinned meaningfully.
Mason stood stiffly with both hands shoved deep in the pockets of his cargo shorts. A black canvas backpack hung over his left shoulder. He smelled like tropical sunblock. He and Lily had been talking about the beach before. Now he was silent. He seemed as uncomfortable as I felt. I wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what.
Luke didn’t hit any bottles. Garrett and Miranda teased him.
“Game’s harder than he thought,” I said to Mason.
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t stop stealing secret glances at him. He was so cute! But how could he be so different than I’d imagined? So cold?
“That green teddy bear is awesome. My dad once won me a big animal on the boardwalk, but this one’s much nicer.” I was babbling, but at least I was trying. “They’d look cute side by side in my room.”
“I guess.” Mason checked out the bear, then turned his attention back to the milk bottles.
Why did being near him make my skin heat up so much? As much as I had liked Jayden, even he never made me feel this way.
And I wasn’t entirely sure I even liked Mason.
Garrett managed to knock down the bottles once. Everyone joked about the tiny stuffed seahorse that he won. Miranda whipped the softball and flattened the bottles twice. She was better than Lily, Avery, Garrett, and Luke.
“No big bear yet. So, so close. You guys got another thrower?” The teen boy, with SHERM printed on his name tag, nodded his chin toward Mason. “You look like you have a strong arm, dude. Care to prove it?”
“Come on, Mason. You try.” Lily placed a dollar on the counter for him.
“Lily, it’s fixed. He can’t do it,” Luke said.
“He totally can. Mason is awesome!” Lily exclaimed.
I could feel Mason’s hesitation.
Garrett handed him a softball. “Let’s see what you got.”
Mason slipped off his backpack and shifted the ball between his hands, weighing his decision. Then he turned and looked at me. His piercing green eyes searched for something.
My skin flamed. Our eyes met. I nodded my encouragement.
Mason twisted back, eyed the target, and let the ball rip. The milk bottles all clattered to the ground. Direct hit!
Lily, Avery, and I cheered.
“Beginner’s luck,” Luke muttered. He always thought he was the best athlete around.
Sherm tossed a mini prize on the counter and handed Mason a second ball. Once again, Mason nailed the bottles. Two in a row!
He reached for the third ball.
Miranda and Luke watched cautiously. They were both extremely competitive.
“You can do it! You can do it!” Lily chanted. Avery and Garrett joined in.
I locked eyes with the big green bear dangling above the bottles. Could Mason really do it? Suddenly I wanted him to win more than anything.
He wound up, then let the ball fly. It knocked the bottom left bottle. That bottle and the top bottle toppled over, but the right bottle remained upright.
“We tied,” Miranda said.
My heart sank. I stared at the lone bottle. Why couldn’t it have fallen over?
My back prickled as if a heat rash was spreading under my shirt. Hot. Itchy. I looked at the green bear’s embroidered smile. I wished I could’ve taken it home.
And then . . . and then . . .
The bottle began to sway.
Slightly at first. Then faster. Back and forth. An invisible earthquake shaking its foundation.
The bottle tipped, then fell. The clank echoed far out into the Atlantic Ocean. Everyone cheered. Garrett clapped Mason on the back.
Lily looked a bit shaken. “Wow!” she breathed.
Sherm shook his head in disbelief. “Wicked, man. I’ve never seen that happen before.”
Mason smiled, accepting all his congratulations.
I stood apart. Was it a freak of nature that caused the bottle to fall? A slight breeze? A tremor below the ground?
“Hey.” Mason appeared in front of me. The huge green bear grinned blankly from his arms. He suddenly looked really shy. “Here,” he said, extending the big bear to me.
“Wait. For me? Why?” I asked.
“You wanted it. You really wanted it, didn’t you?”
Did I?
Had I done something? I wondered. Something supernatural?
Chapter 7
“Hurry up!” Nate waved his arms over his head to get our attention. “David’s letting us in.”
Quickly we squeezed into the front of the line. Lily couldn’t stop talking about how the bottle fell. I couldn’t listen. A whirlwind of supernatural possibilities tore through my brain.
The bear rested heavily in my arms.
Had I somehow called up a spirit to knock down the last bottle? Bits and pieces of conversation swirled around me. Mason and Luke compared major-league pitching stats behind us.
A haunting melody floated out from Midnight Manor. The tune was different from the eerie one playing last summer. From the outside, the house looked different too. It had been painted black with bloodred trim. The rickety wooden sign had been replaced with neon, flashing MIDNIGHT MANOR—YOUR SCREAM AT THE BEACH.
I shifted the huge bear from arm to arm and glanced back at Mason. He ignored me, busy talking with Luke.
He just won me this prize, but now he won’t look at me. I don’t get it, I thought.
“I need to tell you something,” Lily whispered in my ear.
What? I mouthed.
“A secret.” She glanced about nervously. Avery and Miranda discussed mix-and-match bikinis in front of us. Luke and Mason added Nate and Garrett to their baseball debate.
“Spill,” I whispered. I held up the green bear to block us from the others.
“It’s kind of a big deal. I don’t know what you’re going to think.” Lily seemed unsure of herself. That never happened.
“No judgment,” I promised.
“Hey, Lil, pay attention. Line’s moving!” David called from the door of Midnight Manor. “Everyone pair up. You need to go through two by two.” He pointed to a small red light above the door. It flashed when it was time for the next couple to enter.
“Later,” Lily whispered to me. “In private.”
“Sure.”
“Collins, what is that curious circus creature you’re carrying?” David asked. His brown curls poked out the sides of his black Midnight Manor baseball cap. He gave me a crooked, teasing grin. I’d met Lily’s cousin David last summer. He was supercute, but we were just friends. Plus, he was two years older.
“This is not a circus bear,” I announced. “He is a fierce predator of the forest.�
��
“Ooh, scary! Is your Emerald Forest friend going to be your partner inside?” David laughed. “If I recall correctly, you are a huge chicken when it comes to this haunted house!” I pretended to be mad at his comment and stuck my tongue out at him.
“No way. Sara and Mason are going through together. You, dear cousin, will need to provide bear-sitting services.” Lily moved the bear from my arms to David’s and then, as if performing a choreographed dance, pushed Mason next to me and slid into place beside Luke.
“Wait—” I began.
“No time, Sara. Line’s moving.” Lily grinned and nudged me from behind. Avery and Miranda had already entered together.
“I don’t bear-sit,” David protested. “I have a job here.”
“You can use an assistant,” Lily teased.
“Very funny.” David turned to give me back the bear.
“Light’s blinking. Your turn, Sara and Mason,” Lily announced, then twisted to David. “She’ll retrieve Junior when she gets out.”
Mason and I stepped through the huge door and into the haunted house. The summer sun gave way to a chilling, blinding darkness. I stopped, unable to see. Cold air blew down on me. I shivered.
“What now?” Mason asked. He stood to my right.
“I— I— I don’t know,” I stuttered. Haunted houses made me nervous. Standing in a haunted house with a boy made me extra nervous.
“There’s a lit-up arrow over there. It’s pointing around a bend,” Mason said. His voice sounded strained. Was he nervous too?
“Let’s go.” I had a plan. We’d go through the haunted house superfast. No stopping to get scared. No stopping for ghosts—real or fake. In and out, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
The narrow passageway forced us to move with our shoulders nearly touching.
“Do you want to go first?” I offered.
“Nah. You can.”
Neither of us ventured forward. We stayed squished side by side. Everything was quiet. Eerily quiet. I could hear Mason breathing. Again I was close enough to smell his minty gum. Electric candles were scattered about, casting small pools of dim light.
We turned the corner and entered what looked to be an old living room. Cobwebs covered antique lamps and a swaying chandelier. The chipped keys of a grand piano moved up and down, played by unseen hands.
Mason grabbed my wrist and pointed to the framed oil portrait of a bearded sea captain above the fireplace. The eyes blinked. I sucked in my breath. The painting was alive.
Chills tingled my neck.
Just a trick, just a trick, I repeated to myself.
I hated being this scared.
Suddenly the top of the grand piano flew open. A mummy popped out. Dirty bandages crusted with gore hung from his outstretched arm. One eyeball dangled from its socket. He groaned and reached for us.
Mason tightened his grip on my wrist and pulled me out of the room.
“It’s just a trick,” I said. “Just a trick.” I wondered if he could hear my heart boom in my chest.
“Totally. I know.” He let go of my wrist. “That kid said you were chicken, though, so I was just trying to help.”
We were in another dark hallway. A thin stream of cold air tickled my shoulders, as if someone stood behind me blowing. I glanced back. I couldn’t see anyone.
“This way.” Mason quickly followed the hallway into a large formal dining room. A half-eaten meal lay abandoned on an enormous table. Skeletons sat in all the chairs but two.
“Come eat with us,” a deep voice cried.
I hesitated. “I don’t think we have to stop,” I said quickly. “Unless you want to?”
“Sit!” the voice commanded.
“Hey, the food looks fresher than my school cafeteria’s food,” Mason said.
“Totally,” I agreed, not wanting to act like a big scaredy-cat.
We sat next to each other in oversize wooden chairs. Body parts floated in the platters of food. A stray tooth. A severed finger. Was that an ear? I started to gag.
Then I couldn’t breathe. A tightness around my chest squeezed my lungs. What was happening?
“Get off! Get off!” Mason cried.
I tried to look at him, but I couldn’t turn. I couldn’t move. Something was holding me down.
A snake! A ten-foot-long snake was wrapped around my chest, binding me to my chair! Its scales were a mixture of yellow and gray. This was no trick. This snake was real.
Way real.
Tighter and tighter, it squeezed around me like a rubber band.
Mason thrashed alongside me, fighting off a snake of his own. My snake focused its menacing yellow eyes, and I began to scream. Mason screamed too.
And then I could breathe again.
The snake loosened its hold. In seconds it magically disappeared back into the arms of the chair.
Gone. A trick after all. Our screams must’ve made it retract, I realized.
I stood, feeling foolish. My legs shook.
Mason breathed rapidly. “Cool, huh?”
“Not really.” I no longer cared if I seemed like a big chicken. I just wanted to finish and get out. Another flashing arrow appeared, sending us down a different hallway. Hands reached from the darkness. Cackling laughter echoed in the small space. Fog descended. A curtain of sticky cobwebs blocked our path. I moved as fast as I could, dodging the avalanche of scares.
Mason kept pace. Room after room. Coffins with bodies. Zombies. Then a hallway that never seemed to end. The ceiling dropped lower, until our hair nearly skimmed it. The space grew narrower. We pushed up against each other.
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. A sound effect or a real storm? I couldn’t tell. The electric candles flickered.
Cool air tingled along my shoulders. I whirled around. Darkness.
“Did you feel that?” I whispered.
“What?” Mason rasped. His arms were crossed over his chest. He rocked slightly from front to back.
“Like someone blowing.”
“Here? There’s no room in here for anyone else. There’s no room in here for us.”
“Let’s go,” I said. I was scared, but Mason sounded more than scared. Weird. Panicked. We inched our way forward in the darkness.
Mason took short, rapid breaths. He sounded as if he were fighting for air.
“Are you okay?” I stopped.
Something was wrong.
“Fine,” he rasped. “Come on.”
Goose bumps covered my body as cool air once again danced down my neck. I whirled around.
And saw her.
Just slightly. The shimmering outline of a girl a few years older than me. She was wearing an old-fashioned-looking dress. Something about her face wasn’t right, but I couldn’t see her clearly.
She wasn’t a trick. She was a ghost. A real ghost who was following me.
She smiled as we locked eyes. Not a happy smile. The grin a cat gets when she spies a mouse. And then I heard her speak.
“You can see me? Well, come here, pretty girl,” she called, beckoning me with her shimmering hand.
Something about her terrified me. The snakes coming out of the chair to suffocate me seemed tame compared to her.
“Hurry!” I grabbed Mason’s arm to pull him forward. We stumbled in the darkness. Through a narrow hallway, away from her. Into a room that was a little less dark.
I realized the ghost wasn’t following us. We were safe. I turned to say something to Mason to try and downplay my minor freak-out and saw that he seemed to be having a really hard time breathing. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he wheezed.
There was no way our little run through the hallway had winded Mason this much. Something was really wrong.
We had to get out of here now. Mason needed a doctor.
“A door!” I cried, spotting a door backlit in the distance. We ran for it. EXIT blinked above it.
Almost there. We were almost there.
Suddenly skele
tons dropped from the ceiling. A mass of limbs blocked our path. I tried to push them aside but couldn’t. They were heavier than they looked.
Mason hunched forward, hands on his thighs. He didn’t move to help. Through the web of bones, I saw the sign over the door. It now flashed NO EXIT.
Mason’s breathing grew even more labored.
He has to get out. He has to get out.
I didn’t know which way to turn or what to do. I let out the loudest scream I could.
Other screams echoed simultaneously around me, pulling my voice into a high-pitched chorus of fear. At that very moment, screams played over and over on the sound system. My voice was drowned out completely.
Mason has to get out.
I stared at the skeletons, unable to wait until they would be lifted on pulleys back to the ceiling. I wanted them gone now. Now!
With a crash, the skeletons tumbled to the ground as if pulled by an invisible hand. Bones clattered and cracked in an avalanche.
I stared openmouthed. The bone blockade was now gone. The recorded screams cut off. A bell rang. Not a scary sound. A warning bell. Then the overhead lights turned on. I blinked rapidly, adjusting my eyes.
Mason’s raspy gasps made me focus on the door. NO EXIT.
Was that true?
“Follow me,” I ordered, stepping over the skeletal fallout.
Was this even a real door? Would it open?
I grasped the doorknob and twisted.
Chapter 8
The door opened.
I fell into in a small room designed to look like an old screened-in back porch. Mason stumbled out at my heels. A girl with red hair sat in front of an antique table selling Midnight Manor T-shirts and baseball caps. She grinned at me with plastic vampire fangs. “Vould you vant a Scream-at-the-Beach souvenir?”
“What did you do?” David banged through another door. The familiar noises of the boardwalk came from beyond it. His cheeks flushed red, as if he’d sprinted around from the ticket stand. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing,” Mason wheezed. He unzipped his backpack and rummaged about. He pulled out a small inhaler, placed it in his mouth, and took a deep breath. “Asthma,” he managed when he saw our curious stares.
That explained why he couldn’t breathe, I realized. He’d been having an asthma attack.
Kindred Spirits Page 5