Hungry Hearts

by Elsie Chapman

  Charlie watched Mr. Ingersoll haul the Slender One down an alleyway and out of sight. He didn’t know how long Mr. Ingersoll would last; he needed to hurry.

  “What was that all about?” Helen said, staring at Charlie the same way that she’d looked at the mung beans. Like he was a weirdo.

  A week ago he would’ve wilted under her gaze, but right now he found that he didn’t care that much. The city needed him and only a weirdo like him knew how to save Hungry Heart Row from the Slender One.

  “You should go home,” Charlie said once he found his voice. “It isn’t safe.”

  Helen went white and backed away from the shaved ice. “You mean food poisoning?” She reached into her purse to search for her phone. “Where’s Andie? She’s my ride. Wait, do you have a car? My mom’s place isn’t far.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. Helen Overton was asking him for a ride. He’d been waiting for this moment since the first day of school. He had dreamed about it. Yearned for it. This was everything the new Charlie wanted.

  But, now, Charlie wondered what he’d been thinking.

  “There’s a bus stop down the block,” he said before he ran into the store to find Waipo.

  * * *

  Without another thought, he scrambled inside the Happy Horse and made a beeline for the back when a shadow stumbled toward him.

  He lurched back, convinced it was a ghost, but it was Andie. And she didn’t look well.

  “Can I buy some Tylenol?” she asked, her fingers pressed at her temples. The Slender One was likely blocks away, but she looked like she was still feeling its effects.

  “We have some upstairs,” Charlie said quickly. He was about to grab her a few, but she swayed into him, and he caught her before she fell. He knew he couldn’t leave her alone. “Take my arm, okay?”

  He led her up to the apartment, where she promptly slumped onto the living room sofa with a groan.

  “It sounds crazy, but it felt like there was a Dementor outside,” she said, leaning her head against a pillow.

  That isn’t too far from the truth, Charlie thought. He glanced at Waipo’s bedroom door, then back at Andie. “Stay as long as you want, but I have to check on my grandma.”

  He left her with some aspirin and a glass of water before stepping into Waipo’s room. He thought he’d find her conked out in bed, but he should’ve known better. His grandmother was already dressed and hobbling toward him, her broken foot in a boot.

  “Did your mother give me a sleeping pill?” she demanded. “Never mind, I’ll speak to her later. The Slender One is back. I can feel it.”

  “Mr. Ingersoll dragged it to Mallow Park, but I don’t know how long he can keep it there.”

  “That’s where we’ll go. I have to find out what it wants.”

  “You could faint again.” He blocked her path. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll handle it.”

  She swatted at his shoulder. “Charlie-ah, move.”

  “This isn’t like four years ago! It’s so much worse.”

  That made Waipo go quiet, but she pressed on. “What did the Slender One say?”

  “Promise me you’ll let me go after it.”

  “Ai-ya, answer the question! We need to figure out why this ghost is so angry.”

  Charlie had to admit she had a point. “It said ‘olenna,’ but I’m not sure what that means. Maybe it’s a place.”

  “Or a name. I need a computer.”

  Elbowing Charlie aside, Waipo grabbed her crutches and tottered toward the ancient Mac in the corner of the living room, but she stopped when she saw Andie on the couch, sitting wide-eyed with her glass of water and looking much more alert.

  “Oh. Hi,” said Charlie. He’d forgotten about her for a minute, and he wondered how much she had overheard, but he relaxed when he remembered that he and Waipo had been speaking in Mandarin. “This is my grandma.”

  “Nice to meet you. Charlie and I go to school together.” Andie set her glass down shakily. She sounded nervous. “I’m so sorry, but I overheard what the two of you were saying.”

  “You speak Mandarin?” Waipo said in English.

  Andie flushed. “I was in a Chinese immersion program until the eighth grade.”

  Oh, great, thought Charlie. He waited for Andie to scuttle out of the apartment, whispering “freaks” on her way out, but so be it if she did. He had to protect his neighborhood.

  But Andie didn’t leave. “There’s obviously stuff going on that I don’t understand, but I also know that what I felt outside wasn’t normal. The two of you said something about Olenna, right?”

  “Look, I can explain later—” Charlie started.

  “Let the girl speak,” Waipo said, and nodded at Andie. “Go on.”

  Andie swallowed. “Olenna means ‘Helen’ in Ukrainian. It’s what Helen’s grandmother called her.

  “Who’s Helen?” prodded Waipo.

  “Our classmate,” Andie replied. “Her grandma died last year.”

  “Were they close?”

  “Very. Her grandma even moved to Rowbury when Helen’s parents separated.” Andie bit her lip, as if she shouldn’t say what she wanted to reveal next. “The Overton’s divorce has gotten really messy. I don’t know what Helen would’ve done if her grandma hadn’t been there.”

  Waipo nodded along. “How did Grandma die?”

  “She went back to Ukraine for a wedding, but she got sick and passed away at the hospital. The doctors think it was meningitis.”

  Waipo’s eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled to herself, switching between Chinese and English. “Unexpected death . . . a granddaughter left behind. Grief turned into anger. Anger became bitter.” Then her eyes shot open, and she gripped Andie’s elbow. “What did Helen’s grandma like to eat?”

  Andie looked a bit baffled, so Charlie stepped in.

  “Did she have a favorite food?” he said, understanding his grandmother’s intent.

  Andie chewed her lip as she racked her memories. “She always had diced pineapple in the fridge whenever she stayed at Helen’s house.”

  Waipo’s eyes brightened like birthday candles. “We have to preheat the oven.” To Andie she asked, “Do you bake?”

  “Um, I’ve made brownies before. From a mix.”

  Waipo clucked her tongue. “Good enough. What’s your name?”

  “Andie Bellin.”

  “Do you want to help us, Andie Bellin?”

  “I think you and I can handle things from here, Waipo,” Charlie cut in, wanting to give Andie an out.

  But the two women ignored him.

  “Give me a job, and I’ll do it, nushì” Andie said, addressing the older woman in Mandarin.

  Waipo cracked a smile. “You can call me Waipo.”

  * * *

  The three of them barely fit in the apartment’s galley kitchen, but that didn’t stop Waipo from barking out orders like they were in a Michelin-starred restaurant. While Charlie rolled out the pastry dough and Andie heated up two cans of crushed pineapple, Waipo called her daughter to explain that Charlie’s dad needed to take over the shaved-ice station because Charlie was busy.

  Andie stirred the fruit mixture to keep it from burning. “What are we making?”

  “Pineapple cake. A bitter ghost needs something sweet,” said Waipo.

  “You think Helen’s grandmother turned into a ghost?” Andie asked, paling a shade.

  Charlie paused from rolling the dough. “It’s . . . complicated.”

  “Not complicated! Very simple,” Waipo was quick to interject. “We live, we die, and then we become spirits. Some spirits are happy; some are sad. I help the sad ones—make sense? I feed them the food they like, and that makes them happy again.” She pointed Andie toward the stove and instructed her to simmer the pineapples in their juices. “You understand?”

  “I think so.” Andie stirred the fruit concoction and stole a glance at Charlie. “Do you see ghosts too?”

  Charlie’s face warmed, but the truth was the tr
uth, wasn’t it? He’d been trying for months to hide the fact that he was a scholarship kid who could talk to the dead, but it had been like cutting himself in half. He was a Ma to his bones, eccentric waipo and all.

  Maybe being normal was overrated.

  “Yeah, I can see spirits,” he said to Andie at last, his voice cracking slightly. “I got it from my grandma. It kind of runs in the family.”

  Andie blinked at the revelation, considered it, and nodded. “Balding runs in my family, so that’s a lot cooler.”

  They shared a grin, but the moment was broken when Waipo clapped at them.

  “Less talk, more rolling!” she snapped.

  With the whip adequately cracked, the three of them formed an assembly line to fill each mold with dough and sweetened pineapple before pinching the edges together and placing the little cakes onto a cookie sheet that slid promptly into the oven. They crowded around to watch the squares turn golden until Waipo deemed them ready. She let them cool a touch before cutting one into thirds for them to taste.

  “They’re hot,” she cautioned.

  Andie took the smallest of bites. “Holy cow. This is incredible.”

  The filling burned Charlie’s tongue, but he had to agree. Waipo’s pineapple cakes were the stuff of legend, and this particular batch tasted extra special. The crust was perfectly flaky, and the filling had hit that sweet spot of not too sugary and not too tart.

  His grandma swept the cakes into an empty cookie tin. “They’re ready. Let me get my shoes.”

  “You should stay home. I’ll go,” said Charlie.

  “Stay home and do what? Watch television?” Waipo replied in a huff.

  “You fainted the last time, and something worse could happen now. Waipo, please.” Charlie pressed his hands on his grandmother’s shoulders. He didn’t want to face the Slender One alone, but he couldn’t risk his grandma’s health. She was far too important to him, and he hated that he had ever been embarrassed by her. Was she a little eccentric? Sure, but so was he. “It’s time for me to learn how to do this.”

  Waipo went speechless for once. Her chin wobbled as she reached up to pat Charlie on the cheek.

  “You can’t go out there by yourself,” she said finally.

  Behind them, Andie cleared her throat. “I can go with him.”

  “That is a good idea,” Waipo said before Charlie could protest. “Now, listen to me carefully. Find the Slender One and offer it the cakes. Remember: It can’t touch you, but it can make you feel its pain. But you’re stronger than it.”

  Charlie pecked his grandma on the forehead. “We’ll be back soon.”

  And then he and Andie took off.

  Down the stairs, down the street, the two of them raced through the thickening festival crowd. More than once, Charlie looked back to make sure Andie hadn’t fallen behind, but she kept pace with him step for step as they entered Mallow Park. The weather was sunny and warm, and the park should’ve been filled with couples strolling by the riverfront and families out barbecuing. But the place was eerily empty, and Charlie knew exactly why.

  “Over here!”

  Charlie sprinted toward Mr. Ingersoll’s voice. He and Andie reached a line of willow trees not far from the water, offering a view of fishing boats and the Carraway Bridge. Mr. Ingersoll had cornered the Slender One between himself and the river, but Charlie could see that his friend had gone translucent, worn down from exertion.

  “Do you see it?” Andie whispered. “I can feel it.”

  “Me too,” he said, his hands trembling. “What’s Helen’s grandmother’s name?”

  “Mrs. Honcharenko.”

  He repeated it softly. “You can hang back for now, but go get my grandma if I tell you to, all right?”

  Charlie forced his feet to move, and he approached the closest willow tree, where he saw the Slender One through the wispy branches. For a second, he was tempted to make a run for it, but then he channeled his grandmother’s grit. She wouldn’t turn back, and neither would he.

  “Mr. Ingersoll, I’ve got this!” he said, and his friend nodded at him gratefully and slumped by the river to rest.

  Charlie swung his full attention at the Slender One and tossed off the cookie tin cover. “Mrs. Honcharenko?”

  The Slender One swiveled its neck toward him, and Charlie’s knees honestly went weak, but he stood his ground.

  “We made you something!” he said.

  The ghost inched toward Charlie, its mouth moving toward the tin. A skinny tongue darted out, right by Charlie’s fingers, and he dropped the box.

  The Slender One lurched back and let out a horrible screech, followed by a distraught “Olenna!” inches from his face.

  Charlie backpedaled, terrified, but then he felt someone yanking him to his feet.

  “Come on! Tell her about Helen. Tell her that her granddaughter is okay,” Andie urged. She swept the cakes back into the tin and pressed it into his clammy hands. “You’ve got this.”

  Her words buoyed Charlie, and he thrust the box at the Slender One once more. “Your granddaughter Helen goes to school with us.”

  Then something strange happened, right after Charlie spoke Helen’s name. Two slits appeared on the Slender One’s face, like a primitive nose, and they sniffed at the cakes.

  “Tell her that Helen got named captain of poms, and that her mom is giving her driving lessons,” Andie whispered urgently.

  Charlie repeated what she’d told him, and the Slender One drew closer, its claws reaching for the tin, its nose inhaling deeply.

  “Helen misses you,” Charlie went on. “But she’s doing all right.”

  The Slender One’s head bobbed up, tilting toward him. “All . . . right?”

  “She’s safe.”

  “Safe,” the ghost said, like a sigh.

  Slowly, right in front of Charlie’s eyes, the Slender One started to change. Its neck shrank, and its body filled out. Its claws retracted into delicate fingers, and its nakedness was covered by an ankle-length dress in a red-rose pattern.

  “Olenna,” it whispered again as its transformation completed.

  A petite old woman stood in front of them now, her silver hair held back in a bun and her posture as straight as a dancer’s. Wrinkles lined her face, but Charlie could still see the resemblance. Helen had her grandma’s cheekbones.

  The woman blinked, disoriented. “Where is my Olenna?”

  Andie might not have been able to see the ghost, but she seemed to sense a shift in the air, the emptiness gone.

  “What do you see?” she asked. Charlie described the woman in front of him, and her eyes went big. “That’s Helen’s grandma. I went to the funeral, and she was buried in a dress with roses on it.”

  Mrs. Honcharenko drifted toward Charlie. “You know Olenna?”

  “We’re classmates. You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he replied.

  “I will always worry about my granddaughter, but I cannot remain here.” She tried to touch his shoulder, but realized she couldn’t. “I am tired. Very tired.”

  “There’s a place where you can sleep. I think you know the way,” Charlie said. He was unsure how everything worked after death, but he had a feeling that most ghosts were able to find the path to the underworld.

  Mrs. Honcharenko began to fade, like a photograph left out in the sun. Just before she disappeared, she said one last “Olenna” and was gone.

  Charlie’s hands dropped to his sides, and he realized he was out of breath. The past few minutes had drained him completely, and yet he couldn’t help but grin.

  They had done it.

  “She’s gone, isn’t she?” Andie marveled. “It’s like someone opened a window and chased out all of the bad air. Does that make sense?”

  “It does,” Charlie said softly. Now that Mrs. Honcharenko had moved on, he was realizing how much he had revealed to Andie in the last hour. No one outside of his family knew that he could see ghosts. For so long, he had made sure to keep it that way,
but now his secret was out there, and he felt shy. Exposed. “You’re probably super freaked out by all of this, huh?”

  “I mean, a little,” Andie admitted, and Charlie felt his walls go up. But then she looked at him, and there wasn’t fear in her eyes. Only curiosity. “Mostly I have questions. Like, there really is life after death? And what does that make you? A ghostbuster?”

  That made Charlie laugh out loud, and all of a sudden he felt that everything would be okay. “I don’t know. Maybe more like a ghost whisperer.”

  Andie nodded, as if this made perfect sense. Then, out of nowhere, she went white and began patting her pockets for her phone.

  “What?” Charlie got anxious, wondering if he had said something wrong.

  “I totally forgot about the service project! We have to make two hundred dumplings—remember?”

  He groaned. He had forgotten about it too, although they had a pretty good excuse for being late, appeasing an angry spirit and all. “If we run to the community center, you can still make it. I’ll take you there.”

  “You sure?”

  “As long as you don’t tell anyone about my ghost whispering.”

  “Deal,” she said, and they hurried out of the park together.

  * * *

  Later that night, long after the crowds had dispersed, Charlie volunteered to close up the Happy Horse. The festival had been a big success, minus the visit from the Slender One, and his family had celebrated over a dinner of dim sum. Afterward, he had told his parents to rest while he helped Waipo into bed.

  “You made me very proud today,” she told him as he drew her covers over her legs, like she used to do for him when he was little.

  He flushed. “Thanks, Waipo.”

  “But don’t get big head. I have a lot to teach you.”

  He chuckled, but she looked dead serious.

  “We’ll start tomorrow morning,” she added.

  Charlie chuckled. Waipo would always be Waipo. “Yes, ma’am.”