Kindred Spirits

by Phoebe Rivers

  What was he looking for?

  Over our laughter and chatter, the Atlantic crashed along the beach. High tide had brought the ocean closer to the boardwalk tonight. The sun began to set, coloring the sky pink. Midnight Manor loomed before us.

  I didn’t want to go inside.

  My mind churned with excuses. Just the thought of the horrors that waited made my skin crawl. But how could I disappoint Lily on her birthday? I was stuck.

  “Hey, Sara, were you listening?” Avery gently tugged my purple patent wristlet with my money and phone. “Mrs. Randazzo is collecting all the presents and bringing them to Scoops, so we don’t have to carry them through the haunted house. Lily’s going to open them later when we go for ice cream.”

  “Oh no!” I stopped. “I left my present at home.”

  “That’s okay. Give it to Lily tomorrow,” Avery said.

  “I really wanted to give it to her tonight. It’s her birthday today, not tomorrow.” What kind of best friend was I? I blamed Henry for pounding on the door and rattling me.

  “I could come with you,” Mason said over my shoulder.

  “Come where?” I turned to face him.

  “To get Lily’s present. We could walk to your house now and meet up with everyone at Scoops.”

  “But you’d miss Midnight Manor,” Avery pointed out.

  Mason shrugged. “Opening presents is a big deal, isn’t it?”

  Why was he suddenly being nice? I’d never met a boy as confusing as Mason.

  Then it hit me. He’d given me the perfect excuse to avoid the haunted house.

  “I can go by myself.” I didn’t need Mason tagging along, staring and scowling at me. Or even worse, asking me how I’d bent that spoon. I went to find Mr. and Mrs. Randazzo.

  They hated the idea. They refused to let me walk home by myself, even though it was only a couple of blocks.

  Mason appeared by my side. “I can walk with her. My asthma gets really bad in there, anyway, because of the smoke machines.”

  “That’s so nice of you,” Mrs. Randazzo cooed.

  He wasn’t being nice, I realized. Mason was scared to go into Midnight Manor too. He’d pretended the other day that he wasn’t, but I knew better.

  It worked. With our promises to stay together, Mason and I were given permission to run back and get Lily’s present. Mr. Randazzo handed Mason Buddy’s leash. He asked us to walk the dog back to the Randazzos’ house, where Lily’s aunt was watching her brothers and sister. Lily’s dad wanted to experience the “spookified” Midnight Manor.

  All along the boardwalk, down Beach Drive and onto Ocean Grove Road, Mason and I only talked about the dog. We avoided everything else, especially the bending spoon. I’d never been so happy to have Buddy with me.

  “I’ll wait out here with Buddy,” Mason said, when I stopped in front of our weathered yellow Victorian. The house had probably been grand a hundred years ago with its walk-out balconies, octagonal turret, and sweeping front porch. Now it just looked old.

  “Out here? Why? Buddy can come inside.”

  “Just feel like it.” His gaze landed on the sign. PSYCHIC, HEALER, MYSTIC.

  “Lady Azura won’t mind.” A car was parked by the curb. “She never comes out when she has a client. My dad’s at a business dinner.”

  He hesitated.

  “Look at Buddy. He’s panting. He needs water. Come on.” I grabbed Buddy’s leash and led him up the front path, onto the porch, and into the house. Mason followed. We tiptoed past Lady Azura’s purple curtain.

  Mason dumped his black backpack onto the kitchen table as I filled a bowl at the sink. We both watched Buddy slurp the water. Neither of us knew what to say. In the small kitchen, I was aware of Mason standing close to me. The warm flush started in my palms. It snaked its way up my arms.

  Why did I get this way? Could he tell?

  I needed to say something to break the silence.

  “What are those?” I pointed to a row of metallic pins lining the shoulder strap of his bag.

  “My uncle, my mom’s brother, is a pilot. He flies all over the world. He sends them to me. They’re all from cool foreign airlines.” He pointed to one. “This is from Air Tanzania. This one is from Royal Bhutan Airlines.”

  “That’s neat,” I said as Mason and Buddy climbed the stairs to the third floor with me. Dwight and Eleanor stood on the stairs, peering behind the framed coastal watercolors that hung on the stairwell walls. They moved aside for us, and I ignored them. “The farthest away I’ve ever been is California and Hawaii.”

  “Uncle Will once flew me to London,” Mason said.

  “What’s London like?” I asked. We’d entered the crafts room. Mason described Piccadilly Circus and Big Ben. I heard the words, but I couldn’t make sense of them. My body prickled with static. Every nerve stood at attention.

  The walls of my craft room, always yellow, now glowed in brilliant rays. The swirly rainbow of my screen saver radiated, bursting from the monitor. Salt and decaying seaweed rose in a pungent wave from the collection of clamshells on the table.

  What was going on? I’d never felt like this before. Did it have to do with spirits?

  “Doggie!”

  Henry’s delighted cry ripped through my thoughts and jolted me out of my stupor.

  I spun around.

  The closet door stood open.

  Henry’s translucent body vibrated with joy as he spotted Buddy.

  Mason peered into the closet. He held tight to Buddy’s leash, keeping the dog just out of Henry’s reach. “You’ve got a lot of art stuff.”

  “Nosy much?” I croaked, gaping at Henry.

  Mason shrugged and walked to the window. Lights twinkled far out on the bay. “Those crabbing boats are late coming in,” he remarked.

  “Doggie!” Henry squealed again.

  Buddy didn’t seem to hear or sense Henry today. He didn’t wag his tail. He stayed by Mason’s side, loyal to his original boy. In a contest between Mason and Henry for Buddy’s affection, Mason was the hands-down winner. And Henry did not like that.

  He let out a cry of anguish. “Dog! Mine!” His eyes blazed, and he fixed a gaze of betrayal on Mason.

  I needed to get Henry back in the closet. Fast!

  Buddy rubbed up against Mason’s leg. Mason leaned down and scratched his side as he continued to look out the window. Henry moved toward them. He glared at Mason as he reached for the dog.

  Instinctively, I snatched Buddy’s leash.

  Mason whirled on me. “What are you doing?”

  My skin burned with his gaze. “Let’s decorate Buddy’s collar. As a surprise for Lily,” I quickly suggested. It was all I could think of. I led the dog toward the closet.

  Henry followed. I knew he would.

  “Now?” Mason crossed his arms. “Just grab the present. We’re going to miss the ice cream, and that’s the best part . . . even though you have such terrible taste in ice cream,” he teased.

  Why was he choosing now to suddenly act like the boy I’d been hoping for? Friendly. Nice.

  “But I have an idea.” I didn’t really, but I’d come up with something, then shut Henry inside. I scanned the shelves.

  Henry bent in the doorway and wrapped his arms around Buddy, burying his face into his fur. “Mine. Mine.”

  Mason stepped around me and into the closet. “Here. Tie this ribbon around him like he’s a gift.” He reached for a large spool of sheer red ribbon. It began to unravel on the floor.

  “Whoa.” I dropped Buddy’s leash, as I fell to my knees to grab the falling ribbon.

  The closet door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

  “Hey!” I stood in complete darkness.

  “What’s going on?” Mason cried beside me.

  Groping in the blackness, I heard scraping. Something heavy was being dragged across the floor. Then a thump, as it was pushed up against the other side of the door.

  My hand found the smooth metal doorknob. It twisted, but the
door wouldn’t budge.

  “I can’t open it.” I tried again.

  “Let me.” Mason’s breathed on my neck. His arm brushed mine. It was like touching an electrical current.

  I moved aside as his hand covered the knob. He pushed the door with his shoulder.

  “Something’s wedged against it.” He grunted as he tried again. “How can that be?”

  Buddy barked on the other side of the door. My throat tightened. We were locked in a tiny dark space. No one knew we were up here.

  Henry had tricked us.

  Chapter 13

  I stood on my toes and grasped blindly. My fingers fluttered overhead.

  Mason was so close to me.

  The end of the cord tickled my fingertips. I yanked it, flooding the closet with light.

  “That’s better.” Mason inspected the knob, then threw his side against the door. The door still didn’t move. “This makes no sense. Buddy didn’t do this.”

  “Where’s your cell?” I asked.

  “In my bag. In your kitchen.” He groaned. “What about you?”

  “In my bag. Also in the kitchen.”

  “We’ll have to scream for your great-grandmother,” he suggested, still pushing at the door.

  “Lady Azura will never hear us. Her hearing is bad. Even if she did, she can’t make it up all the stairs.” I leaned my back against the shelves. “We’re trapped.”

  “No, we’re not!” He suddenly sounded frantic. He kicked at the door.

  Buddy barked. He was still here. That meant Henry hadn’t left.

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” Mason kept kicking. His frustration made the small space grow even smaller. The sleeve of his green T-shirt brushed my arm. His black sneaker stepped on my sandal.

  “There’s not enough room,” he mumbled. The air grew stale and hot. His breathing grew faster as he pounded. “I hate small spaces.” I saw beads of perspiration pop out on his forehead.

  The supplies on the shelves rattled with his movements. Containers fell over. The air swirled with feathers, cotton balls, and dust.

  “Just stop moving so much,” I cried. My heart was hammering now.

  “Why can’t we get out?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

  Buddy barked crazily on the other side.

  Mason began wheezing.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Asthma,” he managed. Desperately he struggled to fill his lungs.

  I pushed aside a pile of feathers and pulled him to the floor. “You need to sit. Where’s your inhaler?”

  “Backpack.” He kept wheezing. Short, ragged sounds. “There’s no room in here.”

  He was panicking. Was this causing his asthma? “You have to relax.”

  Mason dropped his head into his hands. “Back away,” he rasped.

  I slid onto the ground and pulled my knees tightly to my chest, trying to take up the least amount of space possible. I was scared. What would happen if Mason didn’t get his inhaler?

  I have to get him out of here. He’s not going to be okay without his inhaler. Sweat trickled down my neck. It was too warm in here. My skin crackled with a strange current. I needed to get out too.

  “Henry!” I bellowed. “I know it was you! Let us out! Henry!”

  Buddy barked.

  “Henry!” I screamed again.

  Mason lifted his head. “Who’s . . . Henry?” Every breath he sucked in sounded painful, but I was glad he could still talk.

  Keep him talking. Keep him calm. I had no idea where the thoughts came from, but they were the only ideas I had.

  “You’re not going to believe it,” I said quietly, leaning my head back, trying to open as much space as I could. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Instead I just talked.

  “Henry is a boy. A young boy. He’s dead.” I barreled forward, not waiting for Mason to respond. “He died back in the 1920s, I think. It’s his spirit that’s still here. Spirits do that sometimes. Get trapped. Henry lives in this house. Actually, he lives in this closet.”

  Mason said nothing, just wheezed. But his eyes were fixed on mine. He was listening.

  “Henry was put in this closet because he’s mischievous. He does pranks mostly. Makes messes and scares people. But before I came here, he found some matches and almost set the house on fire. Lady Azura couldn’t control him, so she put him in the closet.”

  Mason’s breathing was so labored I could barely look at him. I didn’t want him to see the panic on my face. I stared at the brass doorknob. I kept talking. Calmly. Slowly. As if talking about ghosts was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Henry went crazy for your dog when Lily brought him over last week,” I continued. Was his breathing slowing now? Sounding less ragged? I talked more. There was a lot to tell about Henry. How he’d almost flattened Jayden with a bookcase at my Mischief Night party last fall. How he loved to make a mess in my craft room. When I was done telling stories about Henry, I realized that Mason’s breathing was almost normal again. “He thinks Buddy belongs to him. He got upset when Buddy was so attached to you just now. That’s why he put us in here. So he can be with Buddy. At least, I think that’s why.”

  Mason nodded.

  “I can see ghosts. Hear and talk to them too.” The history of my seeing ghosts and coming to live with Lady Azura tumbled out. My brain couldn’t keep up with my mouth. I told Mason everything.

  “There are spirits everywhere. Most don’t bother me, but others want help moving on. They’re stuck here, because of unfinished business.” I pointed to the door. “Not Henry, though. He’s just here because he’s having fun.”

  Mason didn’t say anything. I realized I couldn’t hear his breathing, which meant he was now breathing normally. And staring at me with the strangest look on his face.

  “You must think I’m crazy,” I said softly.

  “No crazier than bending a spoon with your mind or toppling a milk bottle.”

  He’d seen that, too. How to begin to explain that? It was too new. Too confusing. We sat in silence for a very long time, listening to his wheezing.

  “Do you believe me?” I asked.

  “See that bottle of glue?” Mason pointed toward a white bottle on a shelf directly above our heads.

  I nodded.

  “Watch.”

  Slowly the plastic bottle inched its way along the edge of the shelf. It glided along, moved by unseen forces.

  I turned to Mason. He was staring at the bottle. Really staring at it. Intensely staring at it.

  “It’s you!” I cried.

  Chapter 14

  Mason nodded. “I thought you knew. The way you act around me.”

  “Me? You’re the one who’s been acting weird,” I said. “I didn’t know it was you. Wow. So you can move whatever you want with your mind?”

  He shrugged. “I guess. It’s pretty crazy. Sometimes it just happens. I think my emotions trigger it. But if I focus on something, yeah, I can move it with my mind. ”

  My mind was still reeling. “Are you sure you bent that spoon? I thought maybe it was me.”

  “Really?” Mason scooted closer. “Try it. See if you can.”

  I focused on the glue bottle. Focused harder than I’d ever focused.

  Mason watched me.

  I watched the bottle.

  It didn’t move. At all.

  “Yeah, you bent the spoon,” I conceded. “Did you cause the skeletons to drop?”

  “Yeah. I had to get out of there. The walls were closing in.” He took several large gulps of air.

  “You’re not the only one, you know.”

  “Really?” He laughed. “Do you mean like the guy in the movie Lily was talking about? Would someone like us really want to have a movie made of our lives, showing off what we can do?”

  Someone like us.

  “No, I definitely wouldn’t want to deal with all that attention . . . but the point is, there are oth
er people out there like us. Lady Azura has powers too. You didn’t know I could communicate with spirits, did you?”

  “I knew something was up with you. That’s why I tried to stay away.”

  “Up how? I thought you hated me.”

  Mason’s checks flamed red. “I don’t hate you. You just made me feel weird. Like there was this crazy electrical current zapping me every time you appeared.” His green eyes searched mine.

  “Me too. I felt it too. The connection.”

  He held my gaze for a long moment. Then we both squirmed uncomfortably.

  “I need my inhaler.” Mason stood abruptly.

  “Can you unblock the door with your mind? I think Henry pushed my computer chair against it.”

  Mason’s face took on that same faraway look I see in Lady Azura’s eyes when she goes into a trance during a séance. He tried desperately to move the chair through the door. I stayed quiet and waited.

  “It’s not going to work,” he admitted, wheezing slightly. “I can’t focus on it without seeing it. Buddy stopped barking. Why’s that?”

  I pushed my ear against the door. I heard Buddy panting and then the repetitive thump of his wagging tail hitting the floor.

  “Henry!” I shouted. “I know you’re there with Buddy. Let us out!”

  “You can still play with the dog,” Mason called.

  I smiled at him. “You just talked to a ghost.”

  “Yep. I figured you need all the help you can get.”

  “That’s it!” I leaned against the door. “Eleanor! Dwight! Can you hear me?”

  I continued to call their names. I knew they were close by. After a while, Dwight’s limping shuffle brushed across the crafts room floor. Through the door, I instructed him to move the chair away. Unlike Henry, Dwight listened.

  We burst out of the closet. Buddy bounded across the room and pounced on Mason. He covered his face with slobbery licks.

  I glared at Henry as the little boy pouted.

  Mason’s eyes flicked about, searching for the dead people only I could see. “They’re here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool.” Mason stood. “I got to get my inhaler. We could leave Buddy up here for a little while if you want.”