Case of the School Ghost (4 page)

“Connor, wait up!” I follow him down the hall.

Connor turns when he hears me. “Go back to the art room, Buddy,” he says in a low voice.

“No!” I say. “I want to know where you’re going.”

“Or go find Mom,” Connor says. I sit. I’m not going anywhere.

Connor sighs. “Okay. But if you’re coming with me, then you have to be quiet.”

I can be quiet. But I wish Connor would tell me where we’re going and why he’s acting so strange.

We turn down another hall. A dark one. We tiptoe past one … two … seven more doors until we reach the music room. Connor’s eyes dart back and forth, then he turns the doorknob. The door creaks open and we slip inside.

It’s even darker in here than it was in the hallway, but Connor doesn’t turn on the light.

He’s about to bump into a table, so I nudge him out of the way. Lightning flashes and lights up the room. Connor shuffles over to the piano and sets the empty jar and the paper on top. Then we leave.

“Why did you put that jar and paper on the piano?” I ask as Connor closes the door behind us.

Connor doesn’t answer.

We walk back down the dark hall.

As we go around a corner, Connor almost crashes into Michael.

“There you are!” Michael says. “Where were you? We’ve been looking for you. A bunch of us are choosing up for basketball. Do you want to play?”

Oh, boy! Basketball. I LOVE basketball. It’s my favorite sport!

“Sure,” Connor says. “Let’s go!”

Yeah, let’s go! I follow Connor and Michael down the main stairs to the gym.

Pepperoni-Fish-Frog Boy and Dog Boy are choosing teams. I run back and forth between them saying, “Pick me! Pick me!” But neither of them does.

Oh well. I’ll play on both teams.

I race up and down the gym, chasing the ball. “Mine!” I say, jumping up and grabbing it away from some kid. But I can’t hang onto the ball very well with my paws. It rolls to the side of the gym.

“Buddy!” someone yells at me.

“Sorry,” I say.

Connor jogs after the ball. He tosses it to Pepperoni-Fish-Frog Boy and the game starts again. I see out the corner of my eye that Michael is leaving. Why is he leaving in the middle of the game? Maybe he needs to go outside.

I dart in between kids and grab for the ball. But once again it slips through my paws and rolls away.

“Buddy!” several kids yell at me now.

“Sorry!” I say. I’m doing the best I can.

“Maybe you should take your dog back to the library, Connor,” Pepperoni-Fish-Frog Boy says. “He keeps getting in the way.”

What? No!

“Okay,” Connor says. “Come on, Buddy.” He grabs me by the collar.

“That’s not fair!” I cry. “I’m not the only one who can’t hang onto the ball. Why do I have to stop playing?”

But before Connor can answer me we hear a shriek from somewhere outside the gym. It sounds like Michael.

“Michael?” I call, tearing out of the gym. I run up the stairs and around the corner to where I heard the shrieking. A bunch of kids follow me.

“There’s a ghost in the music room!” Michael cries, his eyes wide. He is standing in front of the door to the music room. Some of the kids press their noses to the window and peer inside.

“I don’t see any ghost,” says Pepperoni-Fish-Frog Boy.

“Neither do I,” says Dog Boy.

I force myself in between them. There was no ghost when Connor and I were in there five or fifty minutes ago. I sniff all around the door. I don’t smell anything unusual. The kids all want to know more about the ghost. “What kind of ghost did you see?” “What did it look like?” “What did it do?” “Was it Agatha?” they ask.

“I don’t know if it was Agatha, but it was definitely a girl ghost,” Michael says. “She was out here in the hall at first, just sort of floating around. Then she went into the music room. She went right through the wall. Then she disappeared.”

“Wow,” says one of the kids as thunder crashes above us.

There’s only one problem with Michael’s story. It’s not true.

I can see and smell the lie all over Michael.

Mom makes her way through the crowd. “Kids, listen to me,” she says. “There are no such things as ghosts. I think this storm is causing your imaginations to run away with you.”

“It wasn’t my imagination,” Michael insists.

“Well, regardless of what you saw, I want you to stay away from the music room,” Mom says. “That goes for all of you. We’re going to start a movie in the library in about half an hour. You can be in the library, the art room, or the gym until then. But please don’t go running around the school. Okay?”

Everyone agrees, and Mom turns back toward the library.

“I really did see a ghost,” Michael says in a low voice. “I know I did.”

But he’s still lying.

Why would Michael say he saw a ghost when he didn’t?

Why would Connor sneak an empty jar and a big piece of paper into the music room?

And why would Jillian hide a tape recorder with a ghostly voice behind some books?

Have all the kids in this school gone crazy?

I am lying half on Connor’s sleeping bag and half on Michael’s sleeping bag. The lights above are dim. A movie is playing on the TV. Rain pounds against the library windows.

Connor and Michael both seem kind of restless. I don’t think either one of them is enjoying the movie very much. I don’t blame them; there are no dogs in this movie.

Across the library, I see Jillian get up and tiptoe around all the sleeping bags.

A little while later, Michael leans over and whispers to Connor, “I have to go to the bathroom. Will you tell your mom if she wonders where I’m at?”

“Sure,” Connor says.

But soon after that Connor gets up and heads for the door.

“Where are we going, Connor?” I ask, trailing after him. “Are we going to the bathroom like Michael?”

“Do you have to go everywhere I go, Buddy?” Connor asks when we are in the bright hallway outside the library.

I think about that for a few seconds. “Yes,” I say. “You’re my human!”

It turns out we aren’t going to the bathroom. We are headed toward that dark, dark hallway again. The one where the music room is.

I stop. “Didn’t Mom say we should stay away from the music room?”

Connor keeps walking. All the way to the music room. I don’t want to get left behind, so I run to catch up. Even though I’m not sure we should be here.

Connor cracks the door open and we slip inside. Again. But this time we’re not the only ones here. Michael and Jillian are here, too. They are sitting on the floor by the piano, waving lit flashlights around the dark room. I run over to greet them.

“Hi, Buddy,” they both say, petting me.

Connor closes the door. “What are you guys doing here?” he asks.

“Probably the same thing you’re doing here,” Jillian says.

“Did you get a letter that said come to the music room at 9:15?” Michael asks.

“Yes,” Connor says.

“I knew it!” Michael grins at Connor. “When you said you had a flashlight like mine, and you just got it today, I knew you got a letter, too.”

Connor sits down next to Michael and Jillian. “Why didn’t you say so?” Connor asks.

“Why didn’t you?” Michael asks.

Jillian rolls her eyes. “The letters said, “Don’t tell ANYONE,’” Jillian says, holding up a piece of paper. “At least that’s what mine says.”

“Can I see your letter?” Connor asks.

Jillian hands him her paper. “Can I see yours?” she asks.

“Why don’t we all read our letters out loud?” Michael suggests.

I wag my tail. I like that idea.

“Okay,” Connor says. He hands Jillian’s letter back to her, then pulls a paper out of his pocket.

“I’ll read mine first,” Michael says, holding his flashlight over the paper. “‘Dear Michael. Agatha knows who you are. She has chosen you for a special job.

“
Step 1: At exactly 8:35 p.m. stop whatever you’re doing and go to the music room. Don’t let anyone follow you. Once you’re there, act like you saw a ghost in the music room. Be convincing!

“
Step 2: At exactly 9:15 p.m. come back to the music room. Bring this flashlight. Wait in the music room for more directions. Warning: Don’t tell ANYONE you received this letter … or else!
”

So that’s why Michael lied about seeing a ghost earlier.

“Okay, I’ll read mine next,” Jillian says. “‘Dear Jillian. Agatha knows who you are. She has chosen you for a special job.

“
Step 1: Find a tape recorder and make a thirty minute tape of a ghostly voice. The voice should say over and over again, ‘Stay out of the basement.’ Right before the scavenger hunt starts, hide your recorder in the library and turn it on. Don’t let anyone see you.

“
Step 2: At exactly 9:15 p.m. come to the music room. Bring this flashlight. Wait in the music room for more directions. Warning: Don’t tell ANYBODY you received this letter
…
or else!
’”

And that’s why Jillian hid a tape recorder with ghostly sounds in the library.

Jillian tosses the paper down in front of her. “That was my mom’s tape recorder. Do you know how much trouble I’m going to be in if I don’t get it back from Mrs. Warner?”

“You’ll get it back,” Connor says. “All you have to do is tell Mrs. Warner it’s yours.”

“Yeah, and then I’ll get in trouble with Mrs. Warner,” Jillian says. “She may even tell my mom what I did with the recorder. I’m in trouble no matter what.”

I’m not sure I like the person who sent these letters. He or she is getting my friends in trouble.

“Both your letters tell you to wait in the music room for more directions,” Connor says. “My letter has more directions.”

“Really?” Jillian says.

“What does your letter say, Connor?” Michael asks.

Connor adjusts his flashlight and reads, “Dear Connor. Agatha knows who you are. She has chosen you for a special job.

“
Step 1: Go to the art room at exactly 8:05 p.m. Grab an empty jar and a large piece of paper. Write the alphabet on the paper. Leave lots of room between letters. Then take those things to the music room. Don’t let anyone see you.

“
Step 2: At exactly 9:15 p.m. come to the music room. Bring this flashlight.

“Step 3: Once everyone is there, have them sit in a circle. Put the paper and jar in the center. Have everyone put two fingers on the jar. Then tell Agatha you are ready. Her spirit will enter the jar. Your fingers will give her strength. With your help, she will move the jar over the letters and spell out her message to you. Warning: Don’t tell ANYBODY you received this letter … or else!
”

That’s why Connor snuck a jar and piece of paper into the music room.

“Wow, we’re going to get to talk to Agatha?” Michael says. “For real?”

“With a jar?” Jillian asks. “How is that going to work? If Agatha is really here, why doesn’t she just talk to us? Why does she need a jar and a paper with letters?”

“Have you ever talked to a ghost before?” Michael asks. “Maybe this is how they talk to people.”

“Or maybe she thought it would be more fun to talk to us this way,” Connor says.

“Hey, weren’t there two letters in that box with the flashlight?” I ask Connor. “I counted them. One. Two. You should read the other letter to us, too.”

But I don’t think Connor understands me.

“Does anybody have any idea who sent these letters to us?” Jillian asks.

“No,” Connor says.

Michael shakes his head.

I want to know who sent those letters, too. In fact, there are a lot of things I want to know about those letters. For instance:

Does the person who sent the letters really know Agatha?