Ghost Girl

by Ally Malinenko

  When? Zee wondered. She looked at her friend, to see if he believed what his father was telling him, but all Zee saw was worry.

  More than worry. Fear.

  “I can order us a pizza,” his father said.

  “I’m not hungry,” Elijah said, looking at the bedroom door.

  “Ha,” his father snorted. “Now I know that’s not true. Elijah, you’re always hungry,” he said before heading down the hall. “I’ll call you kids when it’s here.”

  Elijah turned and went into his bedroom.

  Zee followed him. “You okay?” she asked gently.

  “I’m fine,” Elijah said, but Zee knew he wasn’t. He wouldn’t even look at her. After a few beats, he said, “You know, actually, I have a lot of homework to do tonight, so I should probably get started.”

  “Oh, sure. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  “Yeah, tomorrow.”

  Zee hesitated for a second before giving Elijah a quick hug, a gesture she hoped said everything she didn’t have the words for right now. One that told him she was scared too. That they could be scared together. One that told him that someday things would get better.

  “Hey,” Zee said when they met up on the walk to the bus stop the next day. “You okay?” She nudged him with her elbow.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  They walked in awkward silence as Zee debated a thousand different ways to bring up what had happened yesterday. Elijah didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, but what if she was wrong? That was the thing about Elijah—he always knew how to get Zee to open up even when she didn’t know she needed to talk. He was good like that. But she was the opposite. All awkward and blurting out the wrong thing at the wrong time.

  “Hey, did you see that dog again?” Elijah asked, and Zee was thankful. This was a much easier topic, even if it terrified her.

  “From the cemetery? No, why?”

  “Last night, I thought I heard something,” Elijah said. “Like a howling. I opened my window and stuck my head out, but the street was empty. When I closed it again and got back into bed, I heard it again just as I drifted off. It was weird.”

  “Yeah, that does seem weird. I, um, didn’t hear anything,” Zee said, which was a lie. She’d heard it too. It was low and jarring, and during the night, she could feel it in her bones. It sounded like it was right outside her bedroom window, but she wasn’t brave enough to check. Instead she just squeezed her eyes shut and told herself that everything was okay.

  By recess, Zee managed to put all of it out of her mind. The dog, Ghost Girl, Elijah’s mother, the way Paul had just vanished into thin air. All of it. In fact, she was in the middle of a great story, having gathered a nice little group before her. It was a take on the classic “Monkey’s Paw” story, which she’d discovered in a collection of scary stories. The gist is that a magic monkey’s paw finds its way to a family who uses it to make wishes. They wish most of all for their son to come home, although he had died in a war. And then there’s a knock at the door. Zee remembered getting to the end of the story, with the terrifying knock upon the front door, and shuddering. It was one story that never left her. And since then, she’d used it as inspiration. That was one of the things she loved about stories—they grew into more stories like wildflowers.

  “No matter where he looked,” Zee said, her small audience enraptured, “all he could see were the red eyes of the monkey’s face. Down at the gym floor—monkey face. Up by the basketball nets? Monkey face! In fact, when he looked down at the assembly before him, the angry demon eyes of that cursed monkey stared right into his.”

  “Hey, Ghost Girl, you telling lies again?”

  Zee stopped her story and looked up to see Nellie Bloom standing there with her arms crossed.

  “Go away, Nellie,” Zee said, angry that she broke the tension right when Zee had everyone transfixed.

  “You shouldn’t be talking like that.”

  Zee rolled her eyes and continued her story, but the audience was less attentive. Nellie had shattered the illusion and spoiled everything. She exchanged a frustrated look with Elijah.

  “My mother,” Nellie said loudly, “says there’s no difference between a story and a lie. All of it is untrue.”

  Zee stopped and looked at the girl. She had brand-new shoes, clothes with designer labels. Her hair was fixed by a mother that probably doted over her. Zee felt her own hair slipping loose from the messy ponytail she’d managed before the bus came. Her sister was still asleep this morning after pulling a double shift at the diner. Zee’s lunch was a possibly expired yogurt, a banana, and half a bagel—a mismatched collection of whatever she could find in the fridge. Zee hated Nellie Bloom. And it wasn’t just because she had everything and Zee had nothing; it was because Nellie had everything and she was still dull as dull can be.

  “Sounds like your mom never heard a good story, then. Too bad for her, I guess.”

  “Just admit it, Zero. You’re a liar,” Nellie said, her hands on her hips.

  “No, I’m not,” Zee said her face getting hot. “Lies hurt people. Stories help them. It’s not my fault if you and your mom are too stupid to figure that out.”

  “Okay. Then what about that time you told everyone that there were cops here to arrest the librarian for being in charge of a cult?”

  Everyone turned and looked at Zee.

  “Or,” Nellie continued, “what about the time when you said you had a fever so bad you dreamed that the butcher, Mr. Phelps, was going to die of a heart attack at his job and then it happened and you said you could predict people’s futures.”

  “I . . .” Zee said, her face getting warm.

  The kids around her laughed nervously, and it took a second before Zee realized they were laughing at her.

  “Or what about yesterday at the library when you were talking to yourself?”

  Someone in the crowd turned and said, “Wait, I thought you said she was talking to a ghost?” The rest of the kids snickered. “Right, Ghost Girl?”

  “You’re a liar, Zero,” Nellie said, building on the momentum of the crowd—on what should have been her momentum. Then with a little laugh she said, “All those lies must have been what turned your hair so white.”

  When the rest of the kids laughed along with her, Zee grit her teeth.

  “Go away, Nellie,” Elijah said, but the girl ignored him. She was far too focused on Zee, a cruel glint in her eye. She was high off the attention.

  Zee knew exactly what that felt like.

  And Zee also knew that meant that this was not going to end well.

  “I guess telling lies is what you have to do when you have nothing else in your life. No friends. No mother. And now . . . no father either. Where did he run off to again?”

  “He’s upstate looking for work. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Work. Sure. That’s not what my father said.”

  “I don’t care what your father said, Nellie,” Zee said, her hands curling into fists.

  “He said that your father is upstate because he found himself a new wife. And he’s got a whole other family with her.”

  There was a collective gasp from the kids that now formed a circle around the girls. Then smatterings of laughter. Zee could feel them looking at her, waiting for her to do something. Anything.

  “You shut up, Nellie. You’re the one lying.”

  “Oh yeah? ’Cause my dad does business in the city and he saw your dad there with a whole other family. He saw him with his own two eyes.”

  “My dad isn’t in the city.”

  “Shame, really. Honestly, I feel bad for your sister. She didn’t even graduate high school. Isn’t that right?”

  “You shut up about Abby,” Zee said.

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’m going to shut you up.”

  “My mother said your sister will probably be pregnant in a year. She said your whole family is t-r-a-s-h. Starting with your moth�
��”

  Zee launched herself at Nellie, her fists flying. Words were coming out of her mouth, but she was like a possessed thing—all she felt was the power of shoving Nellie down, of her fist connecting with the girl’s body. At one point she had a whole hank of hair in her grip, and she pulled as hard as she could, reveling in the sound of Nellie’s screams. When rough adult hands pulled her off the girl, she managed to get a final kick in, hitting Nellie squarely in the face. Blood gushed from the girl’s nose.

  Thirty minutes later, after being dragged down the hall by Ms. Levinson, the math teacher, Zee found herself sitting across from a very unamused Mr. Houston. Nellie was outside the door, a bloodied rag held to her face.

  “Zera . . .”

  It’s Zee, she thought but didn’t say. He wouldn’t have listened anyway. Also Zee wasn’t sure what her history teacher was doing sitting at the principal’s desk.

  “Where’s Principal McCaffery?”

  “That’s not your concern. I’m in charge for the time being, and this is deeply troubling. A physical altercation with another student? Fighting, Zera? Do you think this is how good girls behave?”

  Zee gave him a look but said nothing.

  “Young ladies know how to keep their hands to themselves.”

  “Guess I’m not a girl, then,” Zee muttered. If she weren’t a girl, then she could beat Nellie Bloom to a pulp every day and everyone would excuse it as just something that boys do. Why was that? Why did boys get to behave badly but girls always had to be quiet and small and polite? Zee was none of those things. She never wanted to be them.

  Later, sitting outside the principal’s office, she silently recounted everything Nellie had said so that she could plan her revenge. She was going to get that girl. It had gone on too long. It started with the teasing in gym about the hair on Zee’s legs. It was like, in that moment, Nellie saw Zee and since then she couldn’t unsee her. Like she was laser-focused on her. Then she started with that Zero nickname, which caught on with the whole grade, and now she was calling her Ghost Girl. But more than anything, Zee couldn’t stand the way she talked about her family. Zee knew other people in town talked. She was used to the pitying looks, even though she hated them. She knew Abby got them too, but Abby always seemed to be able to ignore it.

  What other people say about me is none of my business, her sister always said. And it’s none of your business either.

  But it felt like her business. And now stories about Dad leaving them. That one burrowed deep inside her. In fact, it reminded her how long it had been since he’d even called. Abby had told her last week that he got some work on a long-haul trucking company and that meant he was driving most days and nights, but still. How hard was it to check in? Didn’t he want to know if she was okay? If Abby was okay?

  A whole other family.

  The words burned inside her. Yes, she was going to get Nellie Bloom back and that would be the thing everyone would be talking about. She’d need Elijah’s help of course, but she was going to plan the best prank this town had ever seen. The whole school would be talking about it years from now.

  “Let’s go.” Abby stood over Zee, a very unhappy look on her face. She had just come out of the office with Mr. Houston. “Now.”

  “Abby.” Mr. Houston stood in the doorway of the principal’s office looking at Zee. “I do hope you’ll implement some of the practices we talked about.”

  “Of course. And again, thank you.”

  What was she thanking him for? Zee wondered with a scowl, but she knew better than to utter a single word. She had to be invisible if she was going to avoid her sister’s wrath. When they got in the car, her sister turned to her.

  Here we go, Zee thought.

  “I . . .” Abby rubbed her forehead and sighed loudly. “I don’t even know what to do with you anymore.”

  “Abby . . .”

  “No. Listen to me. You’re fighting now? You have detention for the next week. I hope you realize that the only reason you weren’t suspended was because I had to beg Mr. Houston.”

  “He’s not even the principal.”

  “I don’t really care. You made me miss work, again, and now I have to find a way to make up those hours. What is wrong with you?”

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  Abby laughed. But not in a good way. She laughed in a fed-up, what’s-happened-to-my-life?, my-sister-is-an-idiot sort of way. “It’s never your fault. ‘It wasn’t my fault’ will be written on your tombstone.”

  “No, really, Abby. Nellie Bloom started the whole thing.”

  “Did she? And I see you finished it by smashing her nose open.”

  “That was technically an accident.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s technically not an accident that you’re grounded for a week. No television. No after school time. No hanging out with Elijah.”

  “Abby, come on.”

  “No books!”

  Zee shot her sister a look. “THAT’S NOT FAIR.”

  “Guess what?” Abby said, starting the car. “I don’t really care.”

  They didn’t talk the rest of the ride home, or at the house, or during all of dinner, which was comprised of microwaved leftover spaghetti that Abby brought home from the diner. Zee pushed the pasta around her plate wondering how it was possible for the sauce to be scalding in one part and freezing in another. Zee hated when she brought home food like this. The thought that she was eating someone else’s leftovers grossed her out. Abby always told her it wasn’t from stuff left on the plate, but from stuff that was fine but sent back to the kitchen, but Zee didn’t believe her then and she certainly didn’t believe her tonight. Eating someone else’s food was gross. And below that, Zee burned with shame that this was something that Abby thought they needed to resort to. She thought about Nellie and her stupid new clothes, and her stomach burned from more than just the simultaneously undercooked and overcooked noodles.

  “Finish your food,” Abby said, breaking the silence.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Fine,” Abby said, snatching Zee’s plate away and then dumping it into the garbage. “Happy?”

  “Yes!” Zee spat back.

  “Are you going to tell me what this fight was about?”

  “Will that mean I’m not punished?”

  “No.”

  “Then no.”

  “Zee,” Abby said, sounding weary. She rubbed her eyes. “I want to know what Nellie said to you that made you so mad you punched her in the nose.”

  “First of all, I didn’t punch her. I kicked her, and like I told you, it was by accident. Not that you ever listen to anything I say.”

  Abby sighed and looked out the window. “I am listening to you, Zee. I’m trying to understand what happened that you’re getting into fights. This is not like you.”

  Maybe it is, Zee thought but didn’t say. Maybe kicking Nellie in the face is exactly what she was like. Goodness knows doing it felt great. It was the best way of shutting her up. “If I tell you what she said, will you believe me?”

  “Yes.”

  “She called me a liar.”

  “Zee, that’s no reason—”

  “See! You’re not even listening to my side.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Abby said, holding up her hands and then crossing her arms, “I’m listening.”

  Zee made sure Abby was serious before continuing. “She said that her father saw Dad in the city with a whole other family.”

  “What? That’s . . . Zee, you know that’s not true. Dad is upstate looking for work.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Zee said. It came out sounding sarcastic.

  “Hey, Zee, don’t do that. Nellie Bloom’s a liar. Her father’s a liar. I’ll go over there right now and tell him so myself. Dad is upstate looking for work. He loves us. He doesn’t have a secret other family. That’s nonsense!”

  Zee stared out the window.

  “But that still isn’t a reason to fight with someone. You don’t hit people, Zee.
Use your words. Use that clever mind of yours to fight them.”

  “That wasn’t all.”

  “What else?”

  “She said you didn’t graduate high school. . . .”

  A pained look flashed across Abby’s face but disappeared just as quickly. “You know that’s temporary. You know I’m working on getting my GED. I just haven’t had a chance to study with the shifts at work. . . .” Abby trailed off.

  “And . . .” Zee paused before continuing “. . . she said her mother said . . . that you’d probably be pregnant in a year. She called us . . . trash.”

  Abby got up from the table and turned her back to Zee. She stared out the kitchen window for a while before she said, “Why don’t you go up to your room?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Zee muttered as she headed toward the stairs.

  “I believe you, Zee,” her sister said, still facing away from her. Even though she couldn’t see her, Zee could tell she was about to cry. She could hear the tightness in her voice, and she hated it. “And listen . . . you can read, okay? But no television.”

  Zee climbed the stairs to her bedroom, her stomach in knots. She hated what Nellie brought into this house. Sure, things weren’t great, but they were managing. Now Nellie ruined that too. A revenge plan hatched in the back of Zee’s head. It was a delicious, awful plan, and Nellie Bloom was going to be sorry she ever said anything about Zee or her family.

  5

  NOW THAT THE STORM HAD PASSED AND THE ROADS HAD BEEN cleaned for the most part, people started to take stock of what had been lost. There were avenues that needed work, downed trees that needed to be cut up, sections of town that had lost power, but the thing no one was expecting was the fact that both Miss Jameson and Principal McCaffery were missing.

  Deanna Jameson was a perky kindergarten teacher. She’d moved to town just a few years earlier and rented an apartment over the barbershop. When she didn’t report to school and it became clear she was missing, the police went to her apartment. There was no sign of a struggle or anything like that. It was more like Deanna just vanished.