The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs

by Cynthia DeFelice

  A cheer went up from the crowd, and Ms. Gillespie waited for it to die down before she continued. “School will be open as usual on Monday morning. Bus students, when your teacher dismisses you, please line up on the sidewalk by the bus loop and wait for your bus to arrive. Walkers, when your teacher dismisses you, you may go home. See you all on Monday morning.”

  A buzz of excited conversation burst from the groups of children and teachers gathered on the grass.

  “Mr. Henry, can we go now?”

  “Hey, Mr. Henry! This means we don’t have any homework, right? All our books are inside!”

  “But, Mr. Henry, my backpack’s in there, and there’s stuff in it I really need.”

  Allie’s mind was still spinning from her meeting with Mrs. Hobbs, but she was aware of the uproar around her. Mr. Henry signaled for quiet, and she tried to focus on what he was saying.

  “All right, you heard Ms. Gillespie. We can’t go back in the building. I’m sorry, Karen, but you’ll have to do without your backpack.”

  Karen pouted. “This really stinks. My new lip gloss and nail polish are in there.”

  “Gee, Karen, that’s terrible,” said Brad, pushing out his lips and making loud kissing noises. “How will you live through the weekend?”

  “Shut up, Brad,” said Karen, keeping her voice low so Mr. Henry wouldn’t hear. “As if anyone would ever want to kiss you.”

  Allie tried to tune Karen out. She was waiting to hear what Mr. Henry had to say about Elders Day.

  “No homework,” he began.

  A cheer rose from the class.

  “Except,” he added with emphasis, “don’t forget that Elders Day is Monday, and you’ll need to have your presentations ready.”

  Allie raised her hand. “But, Mr. Henry, my interview with Mrs. Hobbs was interrupted by the fire drill.”

  “I don’t imagine you’ll be able to get in touch with Mrs. Hobbs over the weekend,” said Mr. Henry thoughtfully. “Is there someone else you can choose instead?”

  Allie felt a rush of relief. She was off the hook. Nobody could say she hadn’t tried to interview Mrs. Hobbs.

  “Looks like you were saved by the bell,” Karen drawled sarcastically.

  Allie ignored her. She supposed she could call her grandparents in North Carolina, and interview one of them. But what about her ghost, she wondered guiltily. He was counting on her. She only wished she knew why.

  “I—I’ll figure something out,” she said at last.

  “Atta girl,” Mr. Henry answered approvingly. Then he dismissed the bus students and, finally, the walkers.

  Before she left, he said, “Hoover’s looking forward to seeing you, Allie. I’ll feed her before I leave today, so you won’t have to come over until the morning. I’m not sure when I’ll get home Sunday evening, though, so she’ll need you to give her dinner.”

  “No problem, Mr. Henry,” said Allie. “Have a fun trip, and don’t worry about Hoover.”

  She ran to catch up with Dub, who was walking slowly, waiting for her. “Hey, Dub,” she said urgently. “You won’t believe—”

  Just then, to Allie’s surprise, Pam fell into step beside them and asked eagerly, “How did your interview go?”

  “Yeah, Al,” said Dub. “Was it okay?”

  Allie was torn. She was dying to tell Dub the whole story, but she couldn’t, not in front of Pam. Even though Pam was smiling in a friendly way and appeared genuinely interested, Allie felt wary. It wasn’t very long ago that Pam had joined Karen in treating Allie as if she had cooties or something. Allie looked around to see if Karen, too, was nearby.

  Pam seemed to read her mind. “Karen called her mother for a ride.” She made a face. “I heard her say she was ‘totally traumatized’ by the fire and couldn’t possibly walk home.”

  Dub snorted. Karen was the only kid in school, the only kid Allie knew, who had her own cell phone. As far as Allie could tell, Karen used it mostly to order her mother to pick her up and take her places.

  “For crying out loud,” said Allie. “If anybody should be ‘totally traumatized,’ I should. The interview was unbelievably awful. Mrs. Hobbs scared me half to death. I was about to run out of there when the fire alarm rang.”

  “You really were saved by the bell!” said Pam, looking impressed.

  “All the firemen headed for the cafeteria,” said Dub. “Is that where the fire was?”

  “I think so,” Allie said carefully. That was what she wanted to talk to Dub about privately—the fire and how it had started. She tried to think of a way to change the subject. “But listen to this!”

  Dub and Pam both turned toward her with eager expressions.

  “How old do you think she is?” Allie asked them.

  “Mrs. Hobbs?” Pam shrugged. “At least a hundred.”

  “It’s hard to tell with turtles,” said Dub. “They’re born looking old.”

  Allie paused to allow the suspense to build, then said, “Forty-one.”

  “No way!” Dub exclaimed. “Come on, Al. If she told you that, she was pulling your leg.”

  “Yeah, like my mom,” added Pam. “She’s been thirty-nine forever.”

  Allie said, “I really think she was telling the truth.”

  “But forty-one? That’s the same age as my parents,” protested Dub. “And she looks way older than they do.”

  “I know,” said Allie.

  “Maybe that’s what being mean and hateful does to a person,” Pam said thoughtfully.

  “Then I guess we know what Karen’s going to look like someday soon,” Dub said with a grin.

  Allie laughed, then covered her mouth and looked quickly to see how Pam was reacting. To Allie’s relief, Pam was trying to hide a smile of her own.

  “What makes Karen act that way?” Allie asked, looking at Pam. It was something she’d always been curious about, and this seemed a good time to ask.

  Pam said quietly, “Sometimes I think she’s jealous.”

  “Of what?” Allie asked.

  “Of everybody and everything. But especially you.”

  “Me!” Allie nearly choked with surprise. “Don’t make me laugh. Why would she be jealous of me?”

  Pam shrugged. “ ’Cause cool stuff happens to you, like that whole thing in Fossil Glen. You were, like, a hero. And because Mr. Henry likes you, and so do the other kids.”

  “Wait a second,” said Allie. “Karen’s the popular one. All the kids like her.”

  Pam shook her head slowly. “It’s more like they’re scared of her. It’s not the same thing.”

  Allie was so taken aback she could barely respond. She recognized a possible kernel of truth in what Pam had just said. But as for the rest . . . “Pam, come on. There’s no way Karen is jealous of me. I am number one on her official ‘loser’ list. Ask anybody.”

  “And I’m number two,” said Dub. “I consider it a badge of honor, actually.”

  “Me, too,” said Allie, giving Dub a quick high-five.

  “I wish I was as brave as you guys,” Pam said wistfully. “I don’t want to hang around with her anymore, but I don’t know how to get out of it. I’m afraid of making her mad. No way I want to be her next victim.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Allie said sympathetically.

  “Just don’t let her get to you,” Dub advised.

  “Easy for you to say,” said Pam. “But I’m going to try.”

  Allie, too, wished she could let Karen’s remarks roll off her back the way Dub did. She tried. Sometimes it worked, but there were plenty of times when Karen still had the power to make her feel lousy.

  When they reached Pam’s street, she turned off to go home, saying, “See you guys later.” Allie and Dub called goodbye, and finally, Allie was able to turn to Dub. “I’ve been dying to tell you this! Mrs. Hobbs started that fire!”

  “What?” Dub’s eyes grew round. “How?”

  Allie stopped walking and held on to Dub’s arm. “I don’t know how. All I know is, my ghost
said, ‘Ask her about the fire,’ and when I did, she got really mad. She was screaming at me and everything—and all of a sudden some papers on the table started to smoke, and then they burst into flames. There was nobody there but us, Dub. No matches, nothing. Just her and her creepy, crazy eyes.”

  “You’re telling me she started the fire with her eyes?” Dub asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know,” Allie answered. “But I saw it happen, Dub.” Her voice shook as she remembered. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

  “Do you think she was trying to hurt you? Scare you? Or just get rid of you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, at least you have a perfect excuse for interviewing someone else,” Dub said. “That’s a relief.”

  “I guess,” said Allie hesitantly.

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  “I’m not,” Allie said.

  Dub stared at her as if she were a drooling lunatic. “Excuse me, but wasn’t it you who just told me Mrs. Hobbs freaked out on you and scared you to death?”

  “Well, yeah,” she admitted.

  Dub waited for her to explain.

  “Believe me, I’d love to never see Mrs. Hobbs again . . .”

  “But . . . ?” Dub prompted.

  “But what about my ghost?”

  “What about him?”

  Eagerly Allie told Dub about the voice and the face appearing to her just before she went to the cafeteria. “He was so young, Dub. Like nineteen, or maybe twenty. Too young to die, anyway. And really cute.”

  Dub rolled his eyes.

  “And so sad-looking,” Allie went on. “So—” She stopped, fumbling for words to describe how the ghost had made her feel. He had aroused both her curiosity and her sympathy. More than that, though, he’d made her feel as if he needed her. “He seemed so sweet and—”

  “So dead,” Dub reminded her.

  “Dub! Geez!” Allie snapped.

  “Well, listen to yourself. You sound like you’re in love with him or something.”

  Allie stopped walking and looked at Dub indignantly. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. He was great, the way he helped me out just when I needed him.”

  “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” asked Dub quietly. When Allie didn’t answer, he added, “Besides, what did he do to help you, anyway?”

  “Right before two o’clock, when I was all worried about the interview, he gave me the words to say. That was when he told me to ask about the fire.”

  “Oh, that was great advice,” said Dub sarcastically. “The interview really went smoothly after you said that.”

  “It’s not his fault she flipped out!”

  Dub shrugged.

  “And it’s not his fault he’s dead! Dub, I think he died in a fire. And after what happened today in the cafeteria, I think Mrs. Hobbs had something to do with it. Why else would she get so upset when I mentioned it?”

  “Well, maybe—” Dub began.

  Allie interrupted. “Hey! I know! My ghost told me to ask about the fire, so he must want me to know something. But maybe I can find out without having to interview Mrs. Hobbs again! Remember how we looked in old newspapers to find information about Lucy’s disappearance?”

  Cautiously, Dub nodded.

  “We could look up stuff about big fires and see if Mrs. Hobbs was involved.”

  “But we can’t get into school to use the library,” said Dub.

  “So we’ll go to the public library tomorrow.”

  “I thought we were going roller-blading tomorrow.”

  “Well, we were. But now we’ve got to do this.”

  “We’ve got to?” Dub repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “Getting kind of bossy, aren’t you?”

  “Come on, Dub! It’s for my ghost.”

  Dub gave her an odd look, then said, “Well, you can go to the library if you want. I’m going blading.”

  “But, Dub! I was counting on you to help me.”

  “I was trying to, Al. But you don’t seem to be listening. Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to help? He always seems to be there, right when you need him.”

  He turned off onto his street, leaving Allie with her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

  Nine

  That evening at supper Allie told her parents that Mr. Henry had asked her to watch Hoover. “Can Michael come with me tomorrow?” she asked. “If he’s over his allergies, we can get a dog!”

  Her mother looked horrified. “No, you’re not taking Michael!” she protested. “Of course he’s still allergic. He’d itch and sniffle and sneeze and be miserable.”

  “Well, I just thought we could check—”

  “Nice try, Al,” her father said with a smile. “But I’m afraid Mike can’t go. It’s flattering, though, that Mr. Henry has so much faith in you, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” said Allie proudly.

  “Mr. Henry lives . . . where? Over on Highland Avenue?”

  “Yeah. It’s only five or six blocks. I’ll just go over on my bike.” She added wistfully, “Are you sure there aren’t pills Mike could take?”

  “We’ve been through this, Al,” Mrs. Nichols answered. Then, in what Allie thought was an obvious attempt to change the subject, her mother said, “I heard a lot of fire sirens this afternoon. Anybody know what happened?”

  “The fire was at school,” Allie answered. “It was kind of weird, actually. I was in the cafeteria interviewing Mrs. Hobbs—”

  “The Snapping Turtle!” Michael shouted gleefully.

  Allie had told her family about Mrs. Hobbs and the Elders Day project the night before. Michael had been entranced by Allie’s description of the scary lady at the lunch counter. He’d spent the rest of the evening making believe he was a snapping turtle, ambushing Allie and her parents and pretending to bite them with his powerful jaws.

  Allie groaned. “Don’t start, Mikey,” she warned. “Or I’ll call the real Snapping Turtle and ask her to come over here and bite you.”

  Michael considered this. “Will not,” he said. But he didn’t sound too sure.

  Allie continued her story, trying to decide how much of the truth to tell. She wished, not for the first time, that she could simply announce to her parents and to the world that ghosts were real and they’d better get used to it. But she couldn’t do that, not unless she wanted her parents to start worrying and wondering if she was out of touch with reality, the way they had before. Could she tell about Mrs. Hobbs starting the fire? She decided to feel her parents out on the subject.

  “So, anyway,” she said, “the fire started in the cafeteria. We all had to leave the building, and we got out a little early because Ms. Gillespie didn’t want us going back inside.”

  “Do they know how the fire started?” asked Allie’s mother.

  “No.” Which was true. Only she and Mrs. Hobbs knew that. And Dub, of course.

  Dub. What the heck was the matter with him, anyway? She pushed the thought from her mind. Whatever it was, she was sure he’d get over it.

  “Did you ever hear of a fire starting all by itself?” Allie asked casually.

  To her surprise, her father said, “Sure. Spontaneous combustion.”

  The words rang a bell, but Allie couldn’t quite recall what they meant.

  “Remember when Aunt Corky’s house burned down?”

  Allie nodded. “Oh yeah. The fire started in a plastic garbage can in the garage. They left a bunch of rags there that were soaked in something.”

  “Some sort of varnish,” said Mrs. Nichols.

  “Right. The rags warmed up in the sun, and that’s all it takes. Spontaneous combustion.”

  But that wasn’t what had happened in the cafeteria. “Have you ever heard of a person starting a fire with his mind?”

  Mrs. Nichols looked skeptical, but Allie’s father said, “There’s a name for that. Telekinesis, I think. It means causing objects to move using the force of the mind, as you said. M
aybe it would include starting fires. I don’t think it’s very scientific. It’s associated more with parapsychology.”

  “What’s that?” Allie asked.

  “Oh, it has to do with séances, Ouija boards, and that kind of crackpot stuff.”

  Crackpot stuff, Allie thought. Like ghosts.

  “I’m just glad you all got out safely,” said Allie’s mother. “Now, let’s do a little planning for tomorrow. What are you all going to do while I’m slaving away at the store?”

  Mrs. Nichols owned an antiques shop, which was open on Saturdays. Her weekend employee was sick, so she was going to have to work all day.

  “I’ve got to mow the lawn,” said Mr. Nichols, “and Mike and I are going to the high school lacrosse game. Allie-Cat, you’re coming, too, right?”

  “No, I have to go to the library to do some research.”

  “I thought you and Dub were going to try skating at the new rink,” said Mrs. Nichols.

  “Well, we were, but I’ve got to work on my project,” said Allie. Thinking about Dub made her feel uneasy again. She decided to call him after dinner and make sure he was over whatever had been bugging him.

  When she’d finished drying the dishes and putting them away, she dialed Dub’s number. If he was mad about not going skating, she was ready to compromise. When he answered she said, “Hey, Dub? I was thinking maybe we could go to the library and then go skating.”

  There was silence at the other end of the line.

  “Dub? You there?”

  “Yeah. It’s just that—Well, when you said you weren’t going, I called some other people.”

  “Oh.” Allie felt let down. “Who’d you call?”

  “Brad and Joey, but they both had stuff to do. So I’m going with Pam.”

  Allie was stunned. “You called Pam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened to her being a—a leopard?”

  “Come on, Al, she was acting pretty nice today, don’t you think?”

  Now it was Allie’s turn to be silent. Dub was right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. In fact, she didn’t at all like the way this conversation was making her feel. Dub was her friend. What was he doing going skating with Pam? Especially when she really needed him. “Yeah, sure,” she replied finally. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.”