Ghost Town (7 page)

See more people?
I wanted to scream.
Do you know how many people I can see? I see more people than anyone else in this town!

But I didn't scream. I didn't say anything. I hated how worried my dad looked. I didn't want to make him look like that. I knew he was scared that I was too anxious—about everything. And I knew he blamed himself. I'd overheard him once on the phone with Aunt Charlotte. He felt he was messing up raising me alone.

“You're probably right,” I agreed softly.

His face brightened. “That's my girl.” He handed me a piece of sandpaper. Problem solved.

I smoothed the imperfections on the wood. Making it all look the same. After a while I spoke. “Why here? Why did you choose here?”

“Your mother and I always liked it. We lived in New Jersey when we were first married. Not too far from here. A few towns down the parkway.” His lips turned up in a grin. Happy memories.

“Why didn't I know that?” I'd thought my dad had shared every story about my mom with me.

“It was only for a year. One year.” He paused, as if transported back in time. “She loved the beach but hated the ocean. She'd walk for hours on the sand but wouldn't even put her feet in the water.”

I savored this nugget of information. So many of my dad's stories were about events but never about her. Who she was. What she thought and dreamed. “Why didn't she like the water?”

He shrugged. “She used to say that people should respect the power of nature. She believed that the ocean was way more powerful than she was, and so she knew not to tangle with it.” He smiled. “Sometimes, she was silly like that.”

“I don't think that's silly,” I said. There
were
things
out there way more powerful than we were. Things I couldn't begin to understand.

That night I sat cross-legged on my bed, holding a framed photograph of my mother in my hands. I'd stared at this photo so often, I felt as if I knew her face better than my own. The same small nose as mine, the same dimples. Mom's face was longer and narrower than mine. And her cheekbones really stood out when she smiled, and mine don't do that. I traced the waves of her light blond hair with my fingertips. It was the same pale blond color as mine. She sat on a large rock, her knees pulled up into her chest. She was smiling brightly at the camera. I knew my dad had taken the picture, and it made me happy to think she looked at him like that. I wished she were here. I wished I knew her.

“It's weird here, Mom,” I said softly. My eyes sought hers.

The rocking chair down the hall creaked back and forth. The man with the sailor cap rapped on his bedroom window, as if trying to attract attention. Dad said houses make noises. That they “settle.” I sighed. This house wasn't settling. Dead people were making the noise.

Then I asked her the question that had been on my mind for days: “Why are they here and you're not?”

These people were dead. My mom was dead.
If I could see them, could I see her?

I closed my eyes and began to sway like I'd seen Lady Azura do. I hummed and tried to think of nothing but my mother. In my mind, I called for her.

If Lady Azura can summon a spirit, so can I.

I twirled my braided silver ring. It had belonged to my mother. It connected us. I called her name over and over.
Mom.

I waited for the bed to shake. For something to happen. For a sign.

After a while, I opened my eyes.

The room was empty.

“Where are you?” I asked the photo. “I don't want all these other people. I want
you.
” Tears tickled the back of my eyes. It was so unfair. “Are you with them? Do you know what they want?”

There was no answer. Only the muffled sobs of the rocking-chair woman filtering through the walls.

I held up the photo, so we were nose-to-nose.

“Please help me understand,” I whispered. “Please.”

My hand grazed the purple curtain before pushing it aside.

“There you are, child. Didn't you hear me calling?”

I'd been out back, trying to place my flip-flops casually on the grass, as if they'd been carelessly kicked off, so I could take a photo.

“Sorry,” I replied. I stared in amazement. She stood by the back shelves of the fortune-telling room with a sparkling bright-blue stone in one hand and a soft, yellow cloth in the other. Rows and rows of colorful stones glimmered from the display.

“Don't be shy. Come closer.” She beckoned to me. “I don't want to raise my voice in this room. The aura in here is delicately balanced. Can you feel it?”

I stood still and felt a floating feeling. That sense
that comes the instant before you open your eyes in the morning when you already know it's sunny and there's no school. “Yes,” I said, my voice showing my surprise.

“Good. It's good you can feel it.” She rubbed a whitish-green stone, bringing out its shine.

“These rocks are so pretty,” I said.

“These are not rocks,” she corrected. “Rocks are outside in the dirt. These are gemstones and crystals. They have powers.”

“Powers?” I edged closer to the shelves. “What kinds?”

“Many different kinds. Light reflects off the gems and crystals, allowing their special energy to be absorbed into your body.” She reached for a pale pink jagged crystal. “This is rose quartz. It helps you to forgive. The crystal next to it provides safe journey.”

“What about this yellow one?” I pointed to a smooth, small stone.

“Citrine helps solve money problems,” she explained. I briefly thought back to my dad and wondered if he did have money problems, could they be cured by a gemstone?

“Pink opal improves luck. Tiger's eye, jade, and agate offer protection,” Lady Azura continued.

“Protection from what?” I asked.

“Bad feelings, negative desires, evil.” She pointed to a brown stone and a gray stone. “Pink tourmaline and smoky quartz are the most powerful against evil forces.”

I reached for the quartz, but she blocked my reach. “It is not for you to choose,” she cautioned. “The stone must choose you.”

Choose me? I was back to not understanding her.

“I need you to fetch me something important,” Lady Azura said.

“Okay.” My gaze lingered on the two stones. Shields against evil. Would they work?

“Fresh fudge. Vanilla, to be exact. From Veda's Fudge Shop on the boardwalk,” Lady Azura instructed.

“On the boardwalk?” I repeated. I knew where the fudge shop was. Across from the haunted house.

“Yes.” She inhaled. “I can sense they are making a batch now. Veda's is like no others. I can taste the difference.”

“But—” I couldn't go back there.

“Hurry, child. People are lining up. I can
feel
it.” She motioned toward the curtain.

I didn't move.

Lady Azura paused, then grabbed both my hands with hers. She gazed intently at me. “Sara.” Her bony fingers gripped so hard that blood pulsed in my veins. “You must face your fears.”

“What?” I cried, startled.

“You cannot live in fear.”

Does she know about the spirit at the haunted house?
I wondered. Of all people, she'd believe me. She'd know what to do.

She flipped my hands over so my palms faced up. She traced the lines and grinned. “But good things are on your horizon. Very good. You shall soon meet a tall, dark stranger.”

I tried to keep a straight face. She had to be kidding me. A tall, dark stranger? That was the lamest fortune-telling line ever. I was beginning to think Lily's mom was wrong. Lady Azura didn't speak the truth. She just made stuff up. I couldn't believe I'd come so close to telling her everything.

I walked to Beach Drive. Slowly. I figured there had to be a candy store in the town. I mean, it's a beach town.

Beach towns are drowning in fudge.

I was wrong. Lots of ice cream. Even saltwater taffy. But every store told me Veda's on the boardwalk was the only place for fudge. Figures.

Hey kiddo all good?

I glanced at my cell phone. Dad was texting. Ever since I mentioned being unhappy a few days ago, he'd been checking in nonstop. He felt bad this job took up so much time, especially when school hadn't started yet.

Lady A wants fudge.
I answered
.

U like fudge. Buy some 2. Use the $ I gave U.

I sighed. He didn't get it.
Fudge store is by haunted house.

U can do it. Remember mind over matter.

I wasn't so sure. Spirits weren't something I could just turn on and off like a light switch. I had no control.

U there kiddo? I can leave work in an hour and go w/u if u want.

I bit my lip, gnawing the chapped skin. Even as nervous as I was, making him leave his office and drive thirty minutes so he could help me buy fudge seemed ridiculous.

No im good. I can do it. thx.

I made a plan. I would avoid the haunted house by walking along the opposite side of the pier. I'd keep my back turned and look only at the stores and rides on that side. I'd never have to see the haunted house. And no one would see me.

Lily had texted me that morning. She was helping some aunt or cousin who ran a motel down the beach. I was glad. Everyone knew and noticed Lily on the boardwalk.

The line for fudge was out the door. As I waited my turn, I wondered again about Lady Azura. I tried to decide if she really had psychic powers. Her hokey fortune-telling and tea-leaf reading pointed to no. She couldn't see or hear Ronald. But, I reasoned, she did
conjure
Ronald's spirit and seemed to sense some stuff about me. Plus, she knew there'd be fresh fudge and a line. The evidence was pretty even for both sides.

“Have you ever tasted the fudge?” asked the woman in front of me. She'd come right off the beach. A mesh tunic barely covered her black bikini.

“No. Is it good?” I asked as we inched into the
store. A blast of air-conditioning and concentrated sugar welcomed us.

“The best. So good I dream about it. Literally.” She smacked her lips in anticipation. “On Tuesdays they always make the fresh vanilla fudge. Every vanilla fudge fanatic knows Tuesdays at two.”

Lady Azura totally scammed me
, I thought.
The whole town knows there's vanilla fudge for sale today.
I felt deflated. I realized that I was hoping Lady Azura would be for real. That I secretly wished she was kind of like me.

A perky teenage girl behind the counter finally cut my hunk of fudge and placed it in a white box. I moved down the line toward the register. I wondered when Lily would be back home. Pulling out my cell to text her, I felt the first pinpricks.

On my legs.

Like insects creeping up my skin, the sensation quickly covered my whole body. The store suddenly seemed extremely crowded. There wasn't enough air for all these people. I tried to inhale but couldn't fill my lungs. My fingers trembled as I squeezed the cardboard box.

He'd found me.

The old man with the cane stood beside me. He leaned heavily on the horse's head carved into the handle of his cane.

Please
, he called. His body trembled.

I tried to look away. But turning my head made the room dip and my stomach heave. The candy counter rippled and the floor swayed. Beads of sweat dotted my hairline. No one else saw him.

Please. Please help.
His voice was thin. He pushed each word out with great force, as if digging deep for strength.

Disaster looms.

I wanted to run, but my body couldn't move. The desperation of his words wrapped around me.

Disaster is coming . . . time is running out.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Willing him and his words away.

Midnight Manor . . .
His limbs shook with fear. A fear so extreme that I, too, began to shake.

His fear. My fear. There was no difference.

The walls pressed in. My knees gave way, and I slumped to the floor.

“Oh, my gosh!” The woman in the black bikini squatted down beside me. I stared at her burgundy-polished toenails in a daze.

“Is she okay?” The salesgirl appeared at our side, her perkiness replaced by a worried frown. “Should I call an ambulance or something?”

“No, no!” I blurted. My face flushed as I sensed everyone's eyes upon me. “I'm fine.” The heavy, squeezing feeling was gone.

I gazed around the store.
He
was gone.

My legs shook just the tiniest bit as I stood.

“Are you dehydrated?” the salesgirl asked. She was only a few years older than I was. “It's really hot out.”

“I guess that's it,” I agreed tentatively, still clutching the crushed box of vanilla fudge.

She brought me a glass of cool water and led me outside to a bench in the shade. She sat beside me as I drank. I liked that she didn't ask any more questions. She seemed to be happy to be taking a break. I had a weird feeling she was related to Lily too. I decided I definitely liked their huge family.

I sipped the water and allowed myself to peek across toward the haunted house. David stood at the ticket stand before a line of about ten people. He glanced up and gave me a curious stare. I pretended I didn't see him.

What I did see—at least in my mind—was the image of the old man. I tried to think of something else, to erase him completely. But I couldn't help myself.

What was he saying? What disaster?

I glanced again at Midnight Manor, the eerie music harmonizing with the shrieks of a woman winning the ring toss and a man offering caramel corn. There didn't seem to be anything wrong.

I didn't know why he was bothering me or what he thought I could do. I shook my head. Only a few minutes ago that man . . . spirit . . . whatever . . . made
me feel so horrible I collapsed. I wanted nothing to do with him. Ever.