The Ghost of Graylock (8 page)

A
FTER BREAKFAST
, B
REE DECIDED TO STAY BEHIND
and help Anna out in her ceramics studio, which was tucked discreetly inside the ramshackle barn that stood behind the aunts’ house.

Claire insisted that Neil accompany her to the pie shop, where she assured him that she would reveal all of her baking secrets. Neil had no choice but to follow, even though he couldn’t have cared less about the
secret of pie
. Before they got in the car, he grabbed the satchel from the chair next to his bed, wondering when he’d have the opportunity to hunt for haunts.

As they pulled out of the driveway, Neil half-expected to see Nurse Janet standing with a wide grin at the side of the road, her thumb extended to hitch a ride. He closed his eyes until they were nearly at the shop, which was already bustling with Claire’s employees.

In the kitchen, Claire introduced Neil to the head pastry chef, Glenn Kelly, a tall and surprisingly skinny man with a big smile who wore a pristine white apron over a white T-shirt and jeans. His assistant was a college-age girl named Melissa Diaz, also thin with wide hips and a chest Neil knew he should not be staring at. She apparently couldn’t be bothered to glance at Neil for more than three seconds. Manning the register in the shop itself was a thick-necked high school boy, Lyle Peters, whose eyes were still puffy with sleep. When Claire approached the shop’s front doors to unbolt the locks, a small crowd swooshed in, money in hand.

Neil lounged in one of the booths, wishing he could leave, but Claire had told him she didn’t want him wandering off alone, glancing at his bandaged leg as she said it. The longer he sat there by himself, the easier it was for his parents to creep back inside his head. As strange as it sounded, he’d rather be visited by the weeping woman from the night before than to dream of his mother in the padded cell ever again.

“Hey, Neil,” a voice called from the back of the shop. Melissa stood in the kitchen doorway. “We need some help with this crust. Get off your butt.”

Neil wasn’t sure whether to smile or scowl. Claire stood behind the cash register, pointedly ignoring him. He followed Melissa as she turned away, unsure of what he was getting himself into.

A couple hours later, Neil was covered with flour and proud of it. He’d rolled out at least twenty crusts and pinched them into single pie plates. Glenn had complimented him on his technique, and eventually Melissa had to admit that, at the very least, he was a fast learner.

“What happened to your leg?” Melissa asked him when Glenn was out of earshot. “Looks serious.”

“Oh, this?” Neil glanced at his bandage. “I was out at …” Whoops. He’d almost just told this girl what had actually happened. He had to be careful. Her appearance was distracting.

“You were out at, what?”

“The woods. I tripped over a log.”

Melissa laughed, then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. A log?” She became mock-serious. “Are you a klutz? Should I be worried about having you here in the kitchen?”

“No. I’m not a klutz.” Neil could feel his face turning red. “I just didn’t see it there.”

“So what you’re saying is: The log attacked you.”

Neil pressed his lips together. He knew she was just teasing him. Still … “Actually, I fell through the floor out at Graylock Hall,” he blurted out.

“Graylock?” Melissa flinched. Instead of being mock-serious, she now looked truly serious. Maybe even a little frightened.

“I went yesterday with my sister and some friends.” And now for the clincher. “We snuck in through a window.”

“What were you thinking? And who are these friends? I thought you weren’t from here.”

“Wesley and Eric Baptiste.” He regretted saying their names immediately. What if Melissa told on them?

“Really?” Melissa softened. “Eric went with you?”

“You know him?”

Melissa nodded. “He’s in my little brother’s band. We actually went out a couple years ago. I was a senior. He was a sophomore. He’s pretty cute.”

Neil didn’t know what to say. The best he could think of was: “I’m pretty sure my sister would agree with you.”

“Well, tell your sister to stay away from him if she values her sanity,” said Melissa, turning back to the pie crusts.

Oh
, Neil thought,
she does. We both do.

“Trust me,” Melissa added. “Cute does not always mean sweet.”

“I think Bree figured that out already.”

“Neil!” Claire popped her head through the doorway and called out through the din, “You’ve got a visitor.”

Neil leaned close to Melissa. “Don’t tell anyone what I told you. You know, about Graylock?”

Melissa raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Please?”

Melissa smiled. “You know the best way to keep a secret?” Neil shook his head. “Never tell anyone. Period.”

Carrying his satchel, Neil wandered out to the café section of the shop. He found Wesley standing just inside the front door, sweating through his bright orange tie-dyed T-shirt. Claire had given him a cup of water. Outside, Neil saw Wesley’s bike propped against the café’s large front window.

The events of the previous day careened back into Neil’s brain, and he realized that the pie shop had so consumed him, he hadn’t even thought about the nighttime visitor since Melissa had asked him to help with the crusts.

“Hey there!” said Wesley. “I called your house. Your sister told me you were here.”

“Cool,” said Neil. “I’m glad you came.”

“She said you had something to tell me.” Wesley clasped the water cup tightly, looking as if he expected to hear a mind-blowing story.

“I sure do.” Neil called out to his aunt, who was behind the counter chatting with Lyle. “Aunt Claire, can I take a break?”

“Hmm,” Claire said, glancing up. When she saw Wesley, she smiled. “You’re going together, right?”

“Just to the playground,” said Wesley. “Over on Bennett Street.”

“Don’t be too long.”

“We won’t,” said Neil, already reaching for the doorknob.

A
S THEY WALKED SEVERAL BLOCKS TOWARD
B
ENNETT
S
TREET
— passing quiet houses and overgrown gardens, ramshackle fences and cars in gravel driveways that looked as if they’d been abandoned — Neil told Wesley what had happened the night before.

Wesley nearly fell down with excitement. “Nurse Janet totally followed you home!”

“I’m not sure that’s something to cheer about,” said Neil. “Doesn’t the legend say that she looks for new victims to drown?”

Wesley grew somber. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that part.”

At Bennett, they took a left and encountered a large field. The playground stood at the crest of a nearby hill. Once they’d reached the blanket of green grass, they began to climb.

“Shoot,” said Neil. “I still don’t have camera batteries. I wanted to check out the pictures from yesterday.”

“What kind of batteries do you need?” asked Wesley, racing toward the empty swing set at the top of the slope.

“Not sure,” said Neil, trying to keep up. “Double A?”

When they reached the playground, Wesley leapt into the seat of a swing. His momentum carried him swiftly backward and up. Grasping a chain with one hand, he reached into his pocket with the other. When he swung back toward Neil, he showed him what he’d brought — two small cylinders marked
AA
. “Will these work?”

Neil smiled and then jumped back so that Wesley wouldn’t kick him in the chest. “Those will totally work.”

“You can thank Bree. She was the one who reminded me. I pulled them out of our TV remote. Should still have some juice left. Here. Catch.”

Neil sat on the still swing beside Wesley and carefully opened the slot in the side of the camera. After replacing the old batteries with the newish ones, Neil took a deep breath and then pressed the power button. A second later, the lens whirred open as the view screen blinked on. “Yes!” said Neil. “Thank you, Wesley!”

Wesley dropped his feet to the worn-out ground and skidded to a stop. “So … what’d you get?”

Neil hit the
REVIEW
button, and an image popped up on the screen: a brightly lit doorknob. This was the last picture. Room 13. “Wait,” he said. “Let’s start from the beginning.” He selected the slide show function, and suddenly the two boys were watching a recap of the previous day’s misadventure, filmstrip style.

The first few pictures showed the front of the hospital — the circular drive, the ivy, the solid main-entrance doors. The sky was blue. The light was golden. The shots revealed nothing about the secrets locked inside. In fact, the place looked almost pretty.

Next, the camera showed the gymnasium — the warped floorboards, the decaying ceiling. This was more like it. Still, Neil saw nothing that might be paranormal. No mists. No floating orbs. No shadows filled with faces. The only faces that appeared were in the group shot of Wesley, Bree, and Eric huddled together underneath one of the basketball hoops.

They journeyed up the dark stairs to the labyrinth of hallways. Chipped tiles. Dusty gurneys. Toppled wheelchairs. There was one particularly disturbing picture of a large black spider, but no ghosts. Not yet.

The youth ward appeared with its giant, sunlit windows. There were pictures of the cake table, the rack of stuffed animals. In one shot of the stairwell, a small bulb of light hovered near the top of the screen, but Neil could not be certain whether or not it was merely a speck of dust. That was the problem with orbs — according to Alexi and Mark, they were very inconsistent phenomena.

Then the camera showed them the doorknob picture again, shiny, bluish-white. Overexposed. They’d reached the end. Neil felt faint with annoyance.

“That’s it?” said Wesley, standing. “No ghosts. Are you sure you guys didn’t just imagine seeing something in the room with you?” He began to pace in front of the swing set.

“I
thought
I was sure,” said Neil. “But maybe we were wrong.”

A light flickered at his hand. Neil glanced back at the camera. The slide show had progressed. On the screen, a new image stared up at them: a taxidermic deer head hanging on a wood panel wall, wide antlers reaching toward a soot-stained ceiling. “What the heck?” said Neil. He didn’t remember taking this picture.

Wesley stared at him from the far swing, looking concerned.

The slide show continued on. The next shot revealed what appeared to be a piano bench. A stack of sheet music stood precariously on the edge, ready to topple. The top sheet read
Superstition, music by Stevie Wonder
. In another picture was a fireplace. Three decorative birch logs were arranged just so upon a set of plain andirons.

“What is it?” Wesley asked, rushing back. But by the time he reached Neil’s shoulder, the screen had turned blue. The slide show was over. Neil stared at the camera for several seconds. Then he quickly told Wesley what he’d seen.

“You’re sure those shots aren’t from your aunts’ house? Maybe someone took them last night after you got home.”

“I’m positive,” said Neil, feeling queasy. “And besides, the camera wasn’t working last night. Remember?”

“Let me see.”

Neil scrolled quickly through the pictures. The catalogue of Graylock photographs appeared, but the last three, the ones Neil didn’t remember taking, were now missing.

“They were right here,” said Neil, totally confused.

The screen went black. A gust of wind rustled the grass all the way down the hill. Neil clutched the camera tightly. He felt a hand against the small of his back. He turned to look at Wesley, who clearly was not touching him. Neil felt pressure between his shoulder blades. His sneakers dragged forward as the swing began to move. Neil turned his head to see who was pushing him.

No one was there.

Neil leapt off the seat and ran from the swing set. The swing beside Wesley moved back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. As if someone had taken his place. Then the swing suddenly stopped, the chains hung straight down. Neil almost fell backward, but caught himself just in time. “Someone pushed me,” he said. Wesley stared at the seat in astonishment.

For some reason, Neil turned and glanced down the hill. In the middle of the street, a hundred yards away, a figure was watching him. She was dressed in white. He held his hand above his eyes to shield the sun, but he couldn’t make out her face.

Fingers clutched his wrist, and Neil shrieked. It was Wesley. Wesley laughed and then asked, “What are you looking at?”

“That woman …” Neil pointed. But the street was empty. His skin felt as if it had been replaced by sandpaper. He was itchy all over.

“What woman?” Wesley stepped forward. “Neil? You’re acting weird.”

“She was right there! Don’t tell me I was the only one who saw her.”

“Sorry.”

Neil didn’t want to hear anymore. He tossed the camera back into the satchel. “I’m not imagining things. Let’s go find her.”

The boys explored every alley on the way back, but they found no woman wearing a white uniform.

When they burst through the shop’s front doors, several customers looked up at them. Neil realized that his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide. He slipped into the booth near the front door, where he put his head in his hands, trying impossibly to hide. He couldn’t come in here acting like a total freak, but that’s exactly how he felt. Even Wesley “Green Man” Baptiste was looking at him funny.

He’d hoped that seeing the ghost again would take him away from everything of which he was frightened. Now he was worried that he was seeing things: first the phantom photos in the camera and then the woman in the street.
You’ve got to get us out of here
, his dream mother had said. But, it seemed, Neil had only traveled farther into the padded room.

Claire waved at the boys as the café’s phone rang. She picked it up. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed their dramatic entrance.

“What do we do?” Wesley whispered.

“We have to tell Bree,” said Neil.

“Eric too,” said Wesley. “Maybe they’ll have an idea about those extra pictures. Try the camera again.”

Neil pulled the device out from the bag, but the screen wouldn’t change from black no matter how many times he hit the power button. He shook his head, disappointed. Dead batteries — again! This had to mean the woman he’d seen in the street had been a spirit, didn’t it? He clicked open the camera’s small side panel, slid the batteries out, and handed them back to Wesley.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” he asked.

Before Wesley could answer, Claire approached and slid into the booth next to him.
“So!”
she said. “It turns out we’re having a party tonight. And guess what?”

“What?” the boys asked at the same time.

“You’re both invited.”