The Afterlife Academy (19 page)

C
onrad, Minnesota's claim to fame was that it had the largest outdoor ice-skating rink in the continental United States. It also had not one but two goat-milking farms. Regardless of those two pages in the three-page visitor's pamphlet available at all rest stops and gas stations between Conrad and Gabbiter, the attraction on the third page was the town's most popular.

The annual Wraith Festival.

Hundreds of costume-wearing paranormal fans were flooding the quiet streets of Conrad. Decorated floats of haunted houses, tombstones, and every frightening creature imaginable were parked along the curb awaiting the next morning's parade.

“What a crock!” Charlie's dad grumbled as he negotiated the SUV through the tight space between two parade floats. “Who are all these freaks?”

Charlie kept quiet in the back. He had always dreamed of attending the festival. But at the moment, he couldn't enjoy the sights. He and Walter needed to work out the particulars of their grand scheme.

“Okay, we're going to have to be extra careful out there,” Walter said. “With everyone dressed up in cloaks and hoods, it'll be hard knowing whether or not we're about to be attacked by wraiths.”

“I know,” Charlie whispered. “What about my parents?”

“What about them?”

“Should they go in there with me?”

“It's not the worst idea. At least they'll know if something bad happens.”

“We're coming with you, whether Walter likes it or not.” Charlie's mom glared from the front seat. “It's not an option.”

“Relax, Mom, he wants you guys to come.”

“Oh.” She wiggled her nose and half smiled.

Charlie's dad looked disgusted. “Would you stop talking about this Walter kid? Please?” He steered into a public parking lot and turned off the car.

Among the hundreds, possibly thousands of Wraith Festival attendees, the Dewdles stood out like a coffee stain on a pair of perfectly white slacks.

“Don't get too far ahead of us, Charlie!” Charlie's mom shouted above the noisy street. “And don't talk to any”—she recoiled at the sight of an eight-foot-tall, fur-covered man walking on stilts—“any, er, strangers. Oh my, what exactly are
you
supposed to be?” she asked the man. He released a guttural growl, staying true to character.

“Come on, Dana!” Mr. Dewdle urged. “This whole town's been taken over by crazies.”

They arrived at the Ritz-Carlton hotel, but a crowd of people had surrounded the entrance. Masked demons and ghouls chanted and held up signs that said
WISDOM FOR PRESIDENT
and
KING OF THE WRAITH FESTIVAL
.

“How are we supposed to get in there?” Walter asked. Several police officers stood at the parking lot entrance, preventing anyone from getting through.

“I guess we could ask,” Charlie suggested. He pressed through the throngs of fans. “Excuse me. Excuse me!” he asked one of the officers.

“Yeah, kid, what is it?”

“I need to get in there to see Wisdom Willows,” Charlie explained.

“Right. You and the rest of these people. Look, if you're not on the list, you're not getting in.”

“My name's Charlie Dewdle. I don't think I'm on the list, but I know Wisdom would want to see me.”

The officer smirked. “Sure, kid. Whatever.”

“Well, this was a waste of time,” Charlie said to his parents. “They're only letting people in who are on some list.”

“And you're not on the list?” his mom asked.

“Of course he's not on the list, Dana.” His dad threw his hands up in frustration.

“Charlie, look over there,” Walter said.

Charlie flinched. “Look over where?”

“To your left. Is that who I think it is?”

Charlie turned to see who Walter was talking about and his mouth fell open. The girl standing a few people over looked shockingly familiar. She was wearing a long black robe and a witch's hat, but there was no doubt it was her.

“Melissa?” he called.

Melissa turned her head, and a confused look formed on her face.

“Go over there!” Walter urged.

Charlie asked his parents to stay put, then nervously walked over to Melissa.

“Charlie? I didn't know you were here at the festival.”

“We…uh…just showed up.”

“It's amazing, huh? I come every year. I heard they sold more tickets this year than the past three festivals combined.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” Walter muttered. “She's a freak, just like you!”

“I didn't know you liked this sort of thing.” Charlie couldn't believe it. Melissa Bitner was into paranormal stuff? How did he not know this? They had gone to the same school since kindergarten.

Melissa gnawed on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, well, it's kind of a secret. Only a few people know about it.”

“Oh, right. I won't tell a soul,” Charlie promised.

She giggled. “Don't worry. I don't care
that
much. Some of my friends already know.”

“Are they here too?” Charlie's head darted around, searching for the other popular girls.

“Are you serious? They wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. Can you imagine Sydney Mullins wearing a costume?”

Charlie shook his head.

“Sydney Mullins? Haven't met her yet, but she sounds like the kinda girl I'd rather hang out with,” Walter said.

“Hey, I'm sorry about the other day.” Melissa touched Charlie's arm. “You know, when I snapped at you for breaking Mo's hand?”

“Oh yeah, don't worry about it,” Charlie managed.

“I know he probably deserved it, but I just”—she pursed her lips—“I just can't stand bullies and violence. I hated that you stooped to his level.”

“It was a one-time thing,” Charlie said.

Someone exited the hotel, and the crowd erupted, but it was a false alarm.

“He's supposed to make some sort of speech,” Melissa said. “At least, that's what he said on his website. Wisdom Willows, that is.”

“Who else is staying in the hotel?” Charlie wondered.

“There was a dinner earlier,” Melissa explained. “Really ritzy. I think the tickets were like a thousand dollars apiece just to get in. Hey, this is awesome! Now we'll have something else to talk about at school other than our Spanish teachers.”

Charlie felt his knees wanting to knock together. “Uh-huh.”

“Hey, lover boy?” Walter spoke up. “We should probably find another way in to see Wisdom.”

Charlie nodded quickly. “So, what are you doing here at the hotel?”

Melissa pointed to her cardboard sign. She had painted the words
MARRY ME, WISDOM!
across the front. “It's just a joke. I mean, he's old, eww, but Wisdom Willows is amazing!”

“Yeah, he's a paranormal icon!” Charlie agreed.

“I know! I saw him arrive this afternoon in a black limousine. It's parked toward the rear of the hotel. If he doesn't come out this entrance soon, I'm going to see if he comes out the back way. Then my sister will take me in her car to follow him.” She pointed to an older girl a little ways off. “She doesn't have a choice. I covered for her last week when she snuck out on a school night with her boyfriend to Lavender Falls. If my parents ever found out, she'd lose her cell phone and her car keys. She owes me.”

“I'm actually here to see Wisdom myself.”

She smiled. “You and everyone else.”

“No. I have an appointment.” Charlie glanced over and saw the police officer he had spoken to earlier, motioning for him to approach the gate.

“You're kidding, right?” she asked, baffled.

“Charlie Dewdle?” the officer called out above the surging crowd. “Mr. Willows will see you now.”

“What?” Melissa squealed. “Oh my gosh! What's it about? How did you get an appointment with
Wisdom Willows
?”

Charlie felt his skin prickle with goose bumps. “I'll have to tell you later. Where are you going to be in an hour or so?”

“Where do you think?” She grinned mischievously.

“Right! If you're still around, I'll find you.”

“H
oly moley!” Charlie's dad whistled through his teeth once they'd gotten inside the hotel. “Your friend's staying here? This place is fancy.”

Thick columns beneath a decorated awning marked the entrance of the check-in office. An assortment of expensive vehicles—Mercedes-Benzes, BMWs, and Porsches—filled most of the parking stalls. One of the police officers led the Dewdles up the steps and into the illustrious hall.

“Wisdom Willows is the most famous paranormal researcher in the country,” Charlie said. “Maybe even the world. He has hundreds of thousands of fans, and he's the keynote speaker at the Wraith Festival this year. All those people outside are here because of him.”

“Wow!” Charlie's mom exclaimed, impressed. “And he's your friend?”

“Yeah, well, not exactly.” Charlie shifted in his seat. “But finding
The Summoner's Handbook
is huge. It's like the biggest paranormal find ever. And I found it, so…”

“Ooh, look at me!” Walter mocked. “Aren't I the big cheese?”

Charlie felt severely underdressed. The guests of the Ritz-Carlton looked dolled up for some sort of expensive dinner. They wore suits and dresses, but each of them also wore masks as though they were attending a creepy masquerade ball.

Charlie watched his dad, still dressed in his work uniform, snag a steaming cookie from a plate at the front desk, much to the alarm of the receptionist.

“Can I help you?” she asked from behind the counter.

Charlie's dad stared at her, munched his cookie, and said, “No, I don't think so.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Did you hear that?” Walter asked.

Charlie nodded. “Yep, we better hurry.”

The officer escorted them to room 406, then left to return to his post. The gold trim of crown molding sparkled around the opening of the door.

“Fancy,” Mr. Dewdle said breathlessly as Charlie knocked on the door.

“Just let me handle this, okay?” Charlie whispered quickly. “Don't do anything to embarrass me.”

“Really?” his mom said.

The door opened, and a skinny man, maybe midforties, with short black hair parted down the middle, greeted the Dewdles. He had a thin mustache and wore brown-rimmed glasses and a fanny pack around his waist.

“Good evening!” the man said, and then a look of surprise filled his eyes when he saw Charlie's parents. “Oh my, so many of you!”

“Hello,” Charlie's mom said. “Are you Charlie's friend Willie?”

The man's eyes, magnified by the thick lenses, blinked in confusion.

“Mom, his name is Wisdom.” Charlie covered his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Mr. Wisdom, nice to meet you.”

Wisdom Willows offered a slight bow. “Welcome to my humble lodgings. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“What a dork,” Walter mumbled. “Is that a fanny pack? Do people still even wear those things?”

Wisdom's mustache twitched, and his eyes darted among the three Dewdles as if unsure who to greet first. Then he shook his head and held out his hand. “You must be Charlie. And are these your parents?” Charlie's dad and mom shook Wisdom's hand in turn. “Lovely! I trust you found the hotel easily enough? Come in, come in!” The group entered Wisdom's room. “What did you think of all the wonderful decorations for the festival?”

Charlie's dad smirked. “Some might call them decorations, while others would call them pieces of—”

“You loved them, didn't you, Dad?” Charlie eyed his father.

“Sure,” his dad said. “I was going to say pieces of art.” Then he fell silent.

“I understand you've got quite a problem,” Wisdom said. “Did you bring it? Is it…in there?” He gestured eagerly to the backpack. Charlie nodded, and Wisdom's eyes lit up brighter. “Well, well, sit down, make yourselves at home. I should have some room service here shortly. Stuffed squash, pickled beets, venison.”

“Ick!” Charlie's dad made a sour face, and his wife swatted his chest with the back of her hand.

“Sit, sit!” Wisdom said again.

Seated at a table in a kitchen almost larger than the one in the Dewdles' apartment, Charlie gazed around the room. Wisdom Willows had set up tons of electronic equipment. Computer towers and monitors, radio-transmitting devices, giant EMF detector screens with green squiggly lines bouncing and chirping. He had plastered the walls with poster-sized photographs of hazy paranormal images and ramshackle buildings. A dry-erase board with scribbled words and symbols stood next to a leather couch.

Wisdom flourished his hand behind him. “Yes, my work never ceases, even when I'm on somewhat of a…vacation. But never mind that. Let's look at the item. Charlie's mom, Charlie's dad, if it's all right with you, may I discuss this with Charlie alone?”

“Alone?” Charlie's mom said, and looked warily at her husband. “You want us to leave?”

“Oh no! That would be absurd. Why don't you have a seat in the living room and watch some television while we wait for our food. There's bound to be some sort of sporting event going on somewhere.”

Mr. Dewdle brightened. “That should be fine. Come along, Dana. Let's see if we can catch the last of the Royals game.” They wandered into the next room, and a few moments later, the television clicked on. Charlie could hear a muffled conversation begin and his father grumble something incoherent.

Wisdom's lips stretched thin. “Ah, it's the blue button on the controller. That'll change the channel,” he said, which seemed to satisfy Charlie's parents.

“So, may I see it?” Wisdom stroked the end of his mustache with a ringed finger. From outside, a gentle patter of raindrops commenced against the window. The storm had reached Conrad early.

“It's raining,” Walter whispered. “Keep an eye out.”

Charlie unzipped the backpack and slid the heavy, ancient book across the table. Wisdom pressed the tips of his fingers together before gingerly opening the cover. Several moments passed as he perused, his smile growing wider and wider after each page. When he glanced at the page at the end containing the smaller characters, he gasped. Then he sniffed the book, his nostrils flaring wider with each breath.

“What's he going to do next? Taste it?” Walter asked.

“How rude,” Wisdom muttered, looking up quickly from the book. “I didn't even offer you a drink. Would you like a soda? A juice? Some ice water?” He clinked the ice in his glass.

Charlie shook his head. “No, I'm not thirsty.”

“This is indeed a treasured find.” Wisdom patted the book. “Tell me again where you found it?”

“In a hole behind an abandoned shopping mall.”

Wisdom laughed. “Indeed! A shopping mall? In Gabbiter, Iowa, of all places.” He seemed genuinely impressed.

“Yeah, I know.” Charlie still felt completely starstruck, sitting this close to such a celebrity. Wisdom Willows was discussing paranormal matters as if Charlie were one of his most trusted friends. “Mr. Willows?”

“Come now. Call me Wisdom.”

“Wisdom. I think there's something else dangerous going on with this book.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. We—I—think there's a conspiracy at the Afterlife Academy.”

Wisdom leaned slightly forward. “How intriguing! Why do you think that?”

“Well, there's this guy named Alton. And I think he may have done something to try to get control of
The Summoner's Handbook.
”

“You need to tell him more than that!” Walter chimed in. “At least tell him where Alton works.”

Charlie flared his nostrils. How was he supposed to explain to Wisdom how he knew Alton without revealing anything about Walter? Would Wisdom believe Charlie if he told him he had a Guardian Agent?

“Let's discuss your theory in a moment.” Wisdom drummed his fingers on the book. “Now, back to this. You said you've read some of the pages.”

“Uh…yeah,” Charlie said.

“The one in the back?” Wisdom clarified. “The decoding page?” He opened the book and pointed anxiously to the back page.

“Just like you said.”

“And you can read this whole book now?”

Charlie scratched his head nervously. Hadn't he already explained all this to Wisdom online?

“Charlie, I think there's something wrong,” Walter muttered. “Have you ever told Wisdom that you live in Gabbiter?” he asked. “I don't remember you writing that online.”

Wisdom's head tilted slightly to the side. “I don't like your friend, Charlie,” he whispered. “Please tell him to keep quiet.”

Charlie opened his mouth to question, but someone knocked on the door.

“Ah, room service. It's about time. I'm sure you're famished!” Wisdom stood and left the kitchen.

“What's going on? Doesn't this seem weird to you?” Walter asked frantically. “He totally heard me!”

“Yeah, maybe, but I think he could be talking about something else. He is kind of odd. Maybe he wasn't talking about you.”

“Wake up, dude! Willows can hear me!”

“I can't be the only one who can hear spirits. Maybe it's more normal than we think.”

Walter scoffed. “It's not normal!” He paused. “Where's
The Summoner's Handbook
?”

Charlie's eyes shot toward the table where Wisdom had been sitting. He bent over and looked underneath each of the chairs.

“I guess he must've taken it with him to the door.”

Lightning and thunder erupted outside, and rain began to pour, pelting the hotel with a deluge of water.

“Why would he do that? Why would he take the book?”

But before Charlie could answer, Wisdom pranced back into the room, clutching
The Summoner's Handbook
in his arms.

“See?” whispered Charlie.

“Who's ready for dinner?” asked their polite host.

But Charlie didn't even hear what he said. Standing behind Wisdom was a massive form that filled the room from floor to ceiling. At least nine feet tall, the creature had golden-brown skin, muscular arms, and gigantic tusks jutting from its mouth. A single bloodshot eye blinked at the top of its face as it gazed hungrily down upon Charlie.

“Charlie and, ah, Walter Prairie, I believe”—Wisdom gestured with his hand to the monster—“I'd like you to meet my friend Hoonga.” He pulled a large, glowing purple orb from his fanny pack, which Charlie immediately recognized as an enormous piece of Celestial stone. “Make it quick!” Wisdom commanded.

Charlie stared. How was
Wisdom
involved in this?

“Running would be great right about now!” Walter shouted.

But Charlie couldn't move. The betrayal of his idol and the sight of the Cyclops was too much for him. His blood seemed to stop pumping through his veins, and he stood stone-still.

With a motion faster than the lightning striking, Hoonga thrust his hand through Charlie's chest and yanked Walter out of him.