The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs (5 page)

Mrs. Hobbs appeared to be seized by strong emotion. Her hands clenched even tighter, and a queer expression passed over her face. It looked to Allie like a mixture of anger, pain, and—something else.

“No one,” she said in a raw, strangled voice.

Silently Allie rebuked herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Everyone knew Mrs. Hobbs hated kids. What a dumb question to ask. She struggled to think of something to say to change the subject.

“Is there a certain day that stands out for some
reason, or an event that made a big impression on you?”

Mrs. Hobbs looked down, and Allie saw that her hands were trembling. She felt very confused, and frightened by the deep emotion she had somehow aroused in the woman. She considered excusing herself and calling off the interview altogether, and decided it was the only sensible thing to do. The next item on her list was “Ask about the fire.” How could she suddenly come out with a question like that? It was hopeless.

She started to rise, intending to say, “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hobbs. That's all the information I need.”

But instead, she heard herself blurt, “Tell me about the fire.”

At this, Mrs. Hobbs jerked forward in her chair. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Allie with disbelief. She whispered slowly, “What did you say?” Then faster, furiously, her voice growing louder: “How dare you ask me that!”

Allie stood up quickly and began to back away in terror.

Mrs. Hobbs rose to her feet, too, her words a choking, strangled cry. “You! You!”

Allie, mesmerized by shock and fear, continued backing away.

Suddenly a thin trickle of smoke rose from a stack
of papers lying on the table between her and Mrs. Hobbs. Allie watched in horrified fascination as the smoke grew thicker. Then a flicker of flame appeared at the edges of the papers and grew until the entire pile was ablaze.

Allie looked up into Mrs. Hobbs's face, which was twisted with hatred. “Leave me alone,” she said slowly, her voice filled with such loathing that Allie shuddered at the sound. “Haven't you done enough?”

The fire alarm began its loud, steady clanging, and Allie turned and ran for her life.

Allie raced out the nearest exit. Soon she saw Mr. Henry waving to get her attention, and she joined the rest of her class. They stood on the lawn with the other teachers and students, watching the firemen swarm into the building.

After about fifteen minutes, the fire chief came out and spoke with Ms. Gillespie, the principal. He handed her a large bullhorn, which she used to make an announcement. “Boys and girls, may I have your attention, please,” she called. “I'd like to commend you for exiting the building so quickly and quietly. Chief Rasmussen has assured me that the fire is now under control. However, since there are only about ten minutes until school is dismissed, we will not, I repeat
not
, be going back into the building today.”

A cheer went up from the crowd, and Ms. Gillespie
waited for it to die down before she continued. “School will be open as usual on Monday morning. Bus students, when your teacher dismisses you, please line up on the sidewalk by the bus loop and wait for your bus to arrive. Walkers, when your teacher dismisses you, you may go home. See you all on Monday morning.”

A buzz of excited conversation burst from the groups of children and teachers gathered on the grass.

“Mr. Henry, can we go now?”

“Hey, Mr. Henry! This means we don't have any homework, right? All our books are inside!”

“But, Mr. Henry, my backpack's in there, and there's stuff in it I really
need
.”

Allie's mind was still spinning from her meeting with Mrs. Hobbs, but she was aware of the uproar around her. Mr. Henry signaled for quiet, and she tried to focus on what he was saying.

“All right, you heard Ms. Gillespie. We can't go back in the building. I'm sorry, Karen, but you'll have to do without your backpack.”

Karen pouted. “This really stinks. My new lip gloss and nail polish are in there.”

“Gee, Karen, that's terrible,” said Brad, pushing out his lips and making loud kissing noises. “How will you live through the weekend?”

“Shut up, Brad,” said Karen, keeping her voice
low so Mr. Henry wouldn't hear. “As if anyone would ever want to kiss
you
.”

Allie tried to tune Karen out. She was waiting to hear what Mr. Henry had to say about Elders Day.

“No homework,” he began.

A cheer rose from the class.

“
Except
,” he added with emphasis, “don't forget that Elders Day is Monday, and you'll need to have your presentations ready.”

Allie raised her hand. “But, Mr. Henry, my interview with Mrs. Hobbs was interrupted by the fire drill.”

“I don't imagine you'll be able to get in touch with Mrs. Hobbs over the weekend,” said Mr. Henry thoughtfully. “Is there someone else you can choose instead?”

Allie felt a rush of relief. She was off the hook. Nobody could say she hadn't
tried
to interview Mrs. Hobbs.

“Looks like you were saved by the bell,” Karen drawled sarcastically.

Allie ignored her. She supposed she could call her grandparents in North Carolina, and interview one of them. But what about her ghost, she wondered guiltily. He was counting on her. She only wished she knew why.

“I—I'll figure something out,” she said at last.

“Atta girl,” Mr. Henry answered approvingly.
Then he dismissed the bus students and, finally, the walkers.

Before she left, he said, “Hoover's looking forward to seeing you, Allie. I'll feed her before I leave today, so you won't have to come over until the morning. I'm not sure when I'll get home Sunday evening, though, so she'll need you to give her dinner.”

“No problem, Mr. Henry,” said Allie. “Have a fun trip, and don't worry about Hoover.”

She ran to catch up with Dub, who was walking slowly, waiting for her. “Hey, Dub,” she said urgently. “You won't believe—”

Just then, to Allie's surprise, Pam fell into step beside them and asked eagerly, “How did your interview go?”

“Yeah, Al,” said Dub. “Was it okay?”

Allie was torn. She was dying to tell Dub the whole story, but she couldn't, not in front of Pam. Even though Pam was smiling in a friendly way and appeared genuinely interested, Allie felt wary. It wasn't very long ago that Pam had joined Karen in treating Allie as if she had cooties or something. Allie looked around to see if Karen, too, was nearby.

Pam seemed to read her mind. “Karen called her mother for a ride.” She made a face. “I heard her say she was ‘totally traumatized' by the fire and couldn't possibly walk home.”

Dub snorted. Karen was the only kid in school,
the only kid Allie knew, who had her own cell phone. As far as Allie could tell, Karen used it mostly to order her mother to pick her up and take her places.

“For crying out loud,” said Allie. “If anybody should be ‘totally traumatized,' I should. The interview was unbelievably awful. Mrs. Hobbs scared me half to death. I was about to run out of there when the fire alarm rang.”

“You really
were
saved by the bell!” said Pam, looking impressed.

“All the firemen headed for the cafeteria,” said Dub. “Is that where the fire was?”

“I think so,” Allie said carefully. That was what she wanted to talk to Dub about privately—the fire and how it had started. She tried to think of a way to change the subject. “But listen to this!”

Dub and Pam both turned toward her with eager expressions.

“How old do you think she is?” Allie asked them.

“Mrs. Hobbs?” Pam shrugged. “At least a hundred.”

“It's hard to tell with turtles,” said Dub. “They're
born
looking old.”

Allie paused to allow the suspense to build, then said, “Forty-one.”

“No way!” Dub exclaimed. “Come on, Al. If she told you that, she was pulling your leg.”

“Yeah, like my mom,” added Pam. “She's been thirty-nine forever.”

Allie said, “I really think she was telling the truth.”

“But forty-one? That's the same age as my parents,” protested Dub. “And she looks way older than they do.”

“I know,” said Allie.

“Maybe that's what being mean and hateful does to a person,” Pam said thoughtfully.

“Then I guess we know what Karen's going to look like someday soon,” Dub said with a grin.

Allie laughed, then covered her mouth and looked quickly to see how Pam was reacting. To Allie's relief, Pam was trying to hide a smile of her own.

“What makes Karen act that way?” Allie asked, looking at Pam. It was something she'd always been curious about, and this seemed a good time to ask.

Pam said quietly, “Sometimes I think she's jealous.”

“Of what?” Allie asked.

“Of everybody and everything. But especially you.”

“
Me!
” Allie nearly choked with surprise. “Don't make me laugh. Why would she be jealous of
me
?”

Pam shrugged. “ 'Cause cool stuff happens to you, like that whole thing in Fossil Glen. You were, like, a
hero
. And because Mr. Henry likes you, and so do the other kids.”

“Wait a second,” said Allie. “Karen's the popular one. All the kids like
her
.”

Pam shook her head slowly. “It's more like they're scared of her. It's not the same thing.”

Allie was so taken aback she could barely respond. She recognized a possible kernel of truth in what Pam had just said. But as for the rest . . . “Pam, come on. There's no way Karen is jealous of me. I am number one on her official ‘loser' list. Ask anybody.”

“And I'm number two,” said Dub. “I consider it a badge of honor, actually.”

“Me, too,” said Allie, giving Dub a quick high-five.

“I wish I was as brave as you guys,” Pam said wistfully. “I don't want to hang around with her anymore, but I don't know how to get out of it. I'm afraid of making her mad. No way I want to be her next victim.”

“I don't blame you,” Allie said sympathetically.

“Just don't let her get to you,” Dub advised.

“Easy for you to say,” said Pam. “But I'm going to try.”

Allie, too, wished she could let Karen's remarks roll off her back the way Dub did. She tried. Sometimes it worked, but there were plenty of times when Karen still had the power to make her feel lousy.

When they reached Pam's street, she turned off to go home, saying, “See you guys later.” Allie and Dub
called goodbye, and finally, Allie was able to turn to Dub. “I've been dying to tell you this! Mrs. Hobbs started that fire!”

“What?” Dub's eyes grew round. “How?”

Allie stopped walking and held on to Dub's arm. “I don't know how. All I know is, my ghost said, ‘Ask her about the fire,' and when I did, she got really mad. She was screaming at me and everything—and all of a sudden some papers on the table started to smoke, and then they burst into flames. There was nobody there but us, Dub. No matches, nothing. Just her and her creepy, crazy eyes.”

“You're telling me she started the fire with her
eyes
?” Dub asked incredulously.

“I don't know,” Allie answered. “But I saw it happen, Dub.” Her voice shook as she remembered. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Do you think she was trying to hurt you? Scare you? Or just get rid of you?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, at least you have a perfect excuse for interviewing someone else,” Dub said. “That's a relief.”

“I guess,” said Allie hesitantly.

“You don't sound so sure.”

“I'm not,” Allie said.

Dub stared at her as if she were a drooling lunatic. “Excuse me, but wasn't it you who just told me Mrs. Hobbs freaked out on you and scared you to death?”

“Well, yeah,” she admitted.

Dub waited for her to explain.

“Believe me, I'd love to never see Mrs. Hobbs again . . .”

“But . . . ?” Dub prompted.

“But what about my ghost?”

“What about him?”

Eagerly Allie told Dub about the voice and the face appearing to her just before she went to the cafeteria. “He was so young, Dub. Like nineteen, or maybe twenty. Too young to die, anyway. And really cute.”

Dub rolled his eyes.

“And so sad-looking,” Allie went on. “So—” She stopped, fumbling for words to describe how the ghost had made her feel. He had aroused both her curiosity and her sympathy. More than that, though, he'd made her feel as if he needed her. “He seemed so sweet and—”

“So
dead
,” Dub reminded her.

“Dub! Geez!” Allie snapped.

“Well, listen to yourself. You sound like you're in love with him or something.”

Allie stopped walking and looked at Dub indignantly. “That's ridiculous and you know it. He was great, the way he helped me out just when I needed him.”

“What do you think I've been trying to do?” asked
Dub quietly. When Allie didn't answer, he added, “Besides, what did he do to help you, anyway?”

“Right before two o'clock, when I was all worried about the interview, he gave me the words to say. That was when he told me to ask about the fire.”

“Oh, that was great advice,” said Dub sarcastically. “The interview really went smoothly after you said that.”

“It's not his fault she flipped out!”

Dub shrugged.

“And it's not his fault he's dead! Dub, I think he died in a fire. And after what happened today in the cafeteria, I think Mrs. Hobbs had something to do with it. Why else would she get so upset when I mentioned it?”

“Well, maybe—” Dub began.

Allie interrupted. “Hey! I know! My ghost told me to ask about the fire, so he must want me to know something. But maybe I can find out without having to interview Mrs. Hobbs again! Remember how we looked in old newspapers to find information about Lucy's disappearance?”