Invisible Ghosts

by Robyn Schneider

  I expected Jamie to smile and say that sounded like a plan, but he didn’t. Instead he turned toward me, his expression serious.

  “I’m worried about him, Rose,” Jamie confessed. “A couple of months ago he couldn’t even use the remote. Now he came all the way here and did this.”

  “I don’t think he was expecting to find us, um, together,” I said, coming to Logan’s defense. “Plenty of people would have yelled or thrown things or whatever.”

  “But not plenty of ghosts,” Jamie said.

  “He threw a tantrum,” I insisted. “That was it. He’d never hurt anyone.”

  Jamie nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced.

  21

  HALLOWEEN WAS ON Saturday. The Donovans had tickets to some charity costume ball and were fine if Sam had a few friends over. Apparently, they’d said, “If you’re going to drink, we’d prefer you do it at home,” which made them miles cooler than my parents, who had finally agreed to let me stay out past eleven.

  I baked sugar cookies and decorated them with what was possibly my greatest Pinterest fail of all time, homemade royal icing. Mostly, it meant that I paved our entire kitchen with runny frosting and ran out of time to clean it up.

  Mom sighed when she saw the mess.

  “When’s Jamie coming over?” she asked.

  “Twenty minutes,” I said, with a pleading expression. I was still in my sweatpants.

  “Get dressed. I’ll take care of it,” Mom said, and I stared at her incredulously. “Just this one time. And only because of that A you brought home in precalc.”

  “Yes! You’re amazing!” I said, giving her an icing-covered hug. And then I raced upstairs to shower and change.

  I wanted to surprise Jamie with my costume. I’d found it in the rentals department at Harbor Playhouse while I was pulling pieces for Dracula. It was a Cleopatra gown, complete with gold edging and a beaded headband.

  Seeing it all put together with my hair and makeup was surreal. The costume was even better than I’d hoped. The creamy chiffon fell in soft folds to the floor. There was a train of sky-blue polyester, and a wide gold belt, and metallic embroidery along the hem. I’d pinned my hair under, following a YouTube tutorial for a faux bob, and the shorter length made my eyes look huge. I kind of loved it.

  I’d been expecting Logan to show up that afternoon, begging to tag along. But he’d stayed away, almost like he knew I’d tell him not to come. Still, I wished he’d gotten to see my Halloween costume.

  “Rose!” my dad called. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Coming!” I yelled, grabbing my phone.

  I burst out laughing when I saw Jamie. He was dressed as a Roman gladiator, in one of those cheap, terrible Halloween store costumes, complete with a bulky plastic breastplate and wrinkled cape.

  “Wow,” he said, staring at me. “Did you cut your hair?”

  “I tucked it under,” I explained, still giggling over his costume.

  “Stop laughing,” he said miserably. “It looked better in the package.”

  “You two are adorable!” my mom exclaimed, coming out of the kitchen. “Rose, you didn’t tell me you were planning to match!”

  I suddenly realized who Jamie was supposed to be, and I wondered how I’d ever thought he was wearing a silly store-bought gladiator costume. I’d expected him to come as King Tut, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d come as Cleopatra’s ill-fated lover, the one I’d read about in Shakespeare’s play.

  “Antony and Cleopatra!” my dad exclaimed. “I get it now.”

  “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” Jamie said, winking at me.

  “Dad, no,” I said, noticing the way he was clutching his iPad. “No photos.”

  “I don’t know,” Jamie said, grinning. “I was hoping I could send some to my mom.”

  “See!” My mom was triumphant. “Jamie wants photos.”

  There was no use explaining that he’d only agreed to pictures to antagonize me. So we stood there and posed together while my dad held up his gigantic tablet and kept exclaiming, “That one’s a keeper!”

  He must have taken at least fifty pictures before my parents finally let us go.

  “What?” Jamie asked as we walked down the front steps. “You keep staring at me funny.”

  “How did you know what I’d wear?” I asked.

  “I had a hunch.”

  “What if you’d been wrong?” I teased. “And I’d dressed as a sexy bunny?”

  “Then I would have looked ridiculous, but at least I’d have a sexy bunny on my arm,” he joked.

  I whacked him, and he twisted away laughing. And then he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against mine.

  “Happy Halloween, Cleopatra,” he said.

  And for once, I felt like that stupid nickname fit.

  When we got to Sam’s house, the party had already started. Claudia met us at the front door dressed as Mary Poppins, which suited her perfectly.

  “Finally!” she said. “What took you so long?”

  “My mom wanted pictures,” I said miserably.

  “Well, come on,” Claudia said, ushering us inside. “Heads up, Nima invited Abby. And whatever you do, don’t make fun of her costume,” she advised.

  “Why on earth would they do that?” Max asked. He was dressed as Waldo from the children’s books, but somehow still managed to sound dignified.

  Claudia scowled at him.

  “Be nice,” she warned. “For Nima.”

  “I’m never nice,” Max said, frowning. “It’s a mystery why you’d think I’d start now.”

  “Should have gone with the Oscar Wilde costume,” Jamie told him, and Claudia made a strangled sound like she was trying not to laugh.

  Our friends were putting the finishing touches on the decorations when we walked into the living room. Nima was Spider-Man, and Darren had tied on a terrible vinyl cape that wasn’t a costume at all.

  We set the cookies down on the counter, where Abby was poking gummy worms into a bowl of popcorn. She was dressed as a sexy wizard in a Hogwarts bustier, hot pants, and stripper heels.

  “Ooooh, Rose, those look amazing,” she said, beaming at my plate of B-minus cookies.

  “Thanks,” I said, and then, because Claudia had told me to, “I like your costume.”

  “I’m such a Harry Potter nerd!” she proclaimed. “I even took an online quiz to find out which house I’m in!”

  I smiled politely, Max’s gleeful warning echoing inside my head.

  Sam bustled in from the garage, carrying a huge bottle of rum and wearing a Thor costume.

  “This drink. I like it,” he said, pouring the rum into a plastic cauldron.

  “Spooky accurate, right?” Claudia said, beaming at him.

  Sam passed around the drinks, which tasted suspiciously like flat vanilla Coke.

  “Careful with these,” he warned, mostly for Jamie’s benefit, since he was the only one driving. “They’re stronger than Polyjuice.”

  “Stronger than what?” Abby asked, wrinkling her nose.

  Max clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his cackling. Claudia’s lips disappeared into a thin line.

  We all crowded into the living room, balancing greasy paper plates of pizza on our laps while we watched The Evil Dead. There were four of us squeezed onto the couch, and Jamie’s shoulder pressed into mine. We kept glancing at each other, exchanging these little smirks over the movie. Meanwhile, on the carpet in front of us, Abby was clutching Nima’s hand and couldn’t stop squealing over the fake blood.

  After the movie ended, Claudia held up a Ouija board, grinning.

  “Who wants to contact the dead?” she asked.

  “Yaaasss!” Max exclaimed. “A séance!”

  “I don’t know,” Jamie said, trying to sound disinterested, even though I could tell he hated the idea. “Sam’s just going to push the indicator around.”

  “Hey!” Sam yelped. “I respect the spirit world. Max is the one wit
hout a sense of honor.”

  “Take that back!” Max insisted, reaching for a spatula. He held it like a dagger, daring Sam to reach for one of his own, but Sam just gave him a look.

  “I’m not really feeling a séance, either,” I said, since Jamie seemed so against it. “Let’s watch another movie.”

  “Come on, Rose,” Claudia whined. “Where’s your Halloween spirit?”

  Everyone was staring at Jamie and me, clearly wanting to have the séance. And I didn’t know what to do. Usually I just went along with what everyone else wanted. Besides, I had no idea why Jamie was being so sensitive about it. What was the worst that could happen?

  “Fine,” I said, giving in.

  Claudia lit a few candles, which made the room feel instantly spookier. Suddenly, in their flickering light, Sam’s house felt so far from a silly costume party with a pile of pizza boxes on the counter.

  She led the séance, asking us all to hold hands. Jamie squeezed mine, and I squeezed back, my heart hammering.

  I didn’t know why I was so nervous. But with all of us sitting there in the flickering candlelight, with the curtains drawn and Claudia’s old Ouija board on the table, the night felt suddenly ominous. Even Claudia, dressed as a cheery British nanny, looked mysterious and shadowed, the candle flames dancing in her dark eyes.

  “Spirits of the past,” Claudia intoned, “you are free to move among us. Be guided by our light and honor us with a visit.”

  I glanced at Jamie. Claudia was taking this far more seriously than I would have liked. His mouth was in a tight, nervous line.

  “Everyone, close your eyes and repeat after me,” Claudia said. “Dear spirit, we summon you.”

  “Dear spirit, we summon you,” everyone chanted.

  I mouthed it.

  “Rose,” Claudia whispered, raising her eyebrows.

  Feeling utterly defeated, I joined in, chanting along with the rest. I could hear the rumble of Jamie’s voice on my right, the purr of Darren’s on my left as we chanted the phrase again and again in our candlelit circle.

  Something bad is going to happen, I thought. And then, nothing is going to happen.

  “This isn’t working,” Nima complained. “Maybe we need to sacrifice a chicken or something.”

  “I think there are some nuggets in the freezer,” Sam told him, keeping a straight face.

  “Oh my god, you can’t sacrifice frozen chicken nuggets,” Abby said.

  And then the ghost showed up.

  One moment we were bent over Claudia’s Ouija board discussing chicken nuggets, and the next, an angry old lady was hovering next to the kitchen sink.

  She was solid everywhere except for her hands and feet, which were too blurred to make out. Her nightgown was filthy and worn.

  “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?” she screamed, her eyes like holes.

  Oh my god. We’d really summoned a ghost. And she was terrifying.

  I glanced over at Jamie. He looked horrified, and I didn’t blame him.

  Everyone else was strangely calm, and that was when I realized: Jamie and I were the only ones who could see her.

  “Is there a spirit here?” Claudia asked, totally unaware.

  Suddenly, the candle flames jumped wildly, licking toward the ceiling in a violent dance of blues and golds.

  “Holy shit,” Sam said, gawking at the candles like they were the most interesting thing happening. “This séance is actually working.”

  “I know.” Claudia beamed.

  Jamie squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, grateful that I wasn’t the only one seeing this—seeing her.

  “YOU MONSTERS!” the ghost screeched, whirling around. “HOW DARE YOU?!”

  The room felt far too warm all of a sudden. My heart was hammering in my chest, and my rented costume was glued to my back. The ghost was so close that, if I reached out, I’d be able to touch her.

  “O Spirit,” Claudia intoned. “We mean you no harm. You are welcome here.”

  “YOU’VE BEEN PLANNING THIS!” the ghost accused. “TRAITORS! HARPIES!”

  The kitchen cabinets rattled, and then all flew open at once with a loud bang.

  Abby shrieked, and I didn’t blame her.

  “Claudia, make it stop!” Darren yelled.

  “I don’t know how!” Claudia said, sounding panicked.

  Jamie let go of my hand and leaned forward, grabbed the Ouija board indicator.

  “Be gone! Leave us alone!” he demanded, pushing the planchette to GOODBYE.

  But the ghost didn’t go anywhere.

  “YOU WON’T GET A CENT FROM ME!” she screamed, her mouth contorting into an angry howl.

  LEAVE, I thought desperately. PLEASE, PLEASE LEAVE.

  Finally, the ghost darted through the sliding door and into the yard.

  All at once, the candles blew out, plunging us into darkness.

  Out in the yard, Sam’s dog started barking frantically.

  And just like that, it was over.

  “Is everyone okay?” Claudia asked, holding up her cell phone as a light.

  Everyone’s faces looked pale and nervous in the glow of her screen, Jamie’s most of all. Because the ghost hadn’t gone back to wherever she’d come from; she’d gone out into our neighborhood.

  I could feel the tension radiating off Jamie, and I wondered why he’d grabbed for the planchette, what he’d thought he could do.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” Darren said.

  “Oh, whatever.” Max shrugged. “I mean, it was all a joke, right?”

  I stared at him in surprise, wondering how he could possibly think that.

  “Totally,” Nima agreed.

  And suddenly the spell broke, everyone talking at once about the stage effects and tricks that could have been used. Trick candles. The cabinets on a timer. A magnet in the planchette. Only Jamie and I were silent.

  “Ugh,” Jamie said, glancing at his phone. “My dad’s pissed. Says he wants me home right now.”

  “What? Why?” Sam asked.

  “Long story,” Jamie said with a convincing sigh. But I knew the excuse about his dad wasn’t true. There was no way Jamie was going home with that ghost on the loose.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said.

  “No, you should stay here,” he insisted, but I just shot him a look and grabbed my purse.

  The street was silent, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of a jack-o’-lantern. Trick-or-treaters rarely ventured this high into the canyon, and those who did had gone home hours ago.

  “We shouldn’t have done the séance,” Jamie said as we walked down Sam’s driveway.

  “It’s not like we knew that would happen,” I pointed out.

  “Still,” Jamie said, his shoulders tense. “Rose, you should go home.”

  “Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  We passed beneath a streetlamp, and it flickered on, the way streetlamps do sometimes, as if promising that nothing bad will happen. But too late for that.

  “Rose—”

  “I’m not leaving,” I said. “So whatever it is, you should tell me now.”

  Jamie sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He looked silly in his store-bought costume, but I’d never seen him so serious.

  “I’m going to help her move on,” he said.

  “What?” I didn’t think I’d heard him correctly.

  “You know. To exorcise her, or whatever,” Jamie continued. “I’ve done it before.”

  I hadn’t known it was possible. That we could do anything more than see ghosts. But Jamie had. And he’d kept it from me.

  “How many ghosts have you exorcised?” I asked, my throat dry.

  “Two,” he admitted.

  He couldn’t be telling me this. Not now.

  The streetlamp was too bright, and the fog was too thick. The walls of the canyon felt like they rose up forever, like we were trapped here and I’d only just noticed.

  “Rose?” he asked, look
ing concerned. “You okay?”

  Of course I wasn’t. My heart was hammering so hard that it hurt to breathe.

  “Fine,” I lied.

  Jamie’s eyes were dark and brimming with concern, and he seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for me to ask him about Logan.

  But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even let myself think it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you.”

  “Yeah, you should have,” I said, and then something occurred to me. “Can I exorcise ghosts too?”

  “I don’t know,” Jamie admitted. “But I think we’re about to find out.”

  WE CLIMBED INTO Jamie’s car, and he turned on the high beams. They lit up the fog like a stage effect as we drove up and down the canyon, looking for the ghost.

  “This isn’t working,” Jamie muttered after the fifth street.

  He pulled over, digging out his phone. After frowning over our local paper’s obituary section for a few minutes, he nodded slightly, as if he’d solved a homework problem. And then, wordlessly, he passed me an obituary featuring a photo of the old woman we’d just seen.

  Her name was Amelia Lee. She’d died two months ago, at the age of eighty-seven. She’d been a schoolteacher, and a WAC in Vietnam.

  An estate sale listing showed she’d lived at 9228 North Canyon View Drive.

  “So how does it work, exactly?” I asked as we drove over. “Do we need a Bible? Holy water?”

  “Aren’t you Jewish?”

  “Well, I assume you don’t exorcise a ghost with matzoh,” I shot back.

  Jamie snorted.

  “They’re people, Rose. You mostly just talk to them.”

  “Wait, so exorcism is therapy for ghosts?”

  “Yep,” Jamie deadpanned. “We literally talk them to death.”

  He stepped out of the car, adjusting his ridiculous gladiator costume. And then he ducked his head back inside.

  “You coming?”

  The ghost was hovering in front of an expansive Spanish-style house, staring at the SOLD sign that had been staked into the lawn.

  Her face was more solid now, covered with lines and age spots. Her anger was gone, replaced with confusion. It was as though she’d gotten turned around and couldn’t figure out which way led home.