“I don’t,” Marcus said. “But I’m thinking you’d want to provide a higher level of reading material for your visitors.”
“Max wouldn’t share any of his books,” Maddie said, smiling at her brother’s scowl. “He says thirty-two billion isn’t enough.”
“Oh, well, then,” Marcus said. “I see your dilemma.”
“Come see the rest,” Max repeated, easing his father back into the hall and over to J-Rod’s room. Maddie gave him a fearful look when he opened the door, but there was no going back now. “See,” Max said, “we’re setting up guest rooms down here. Just for fun.”
“Is that my furniture?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah, we finally found a use for it!” Maddie told him. “You buy too much, Dad. There are rooms down here full of furniture that does nothing but collect dust.”
“Well, it does look nice this way,” Marcus admitted. “But, what about all this computer equipment?”
“Just junk,” Max said, shutting the door. “Theo picked it out.” He glared at his little brother again, whose fault it was he was busting his brain to come up with believable stories. “He’s the junk expert,” Max added. “That stuff looks good, but it doesn’t work. Really cheap yardsale stuff. Practically free. We have a couple of other rooms, too, and want to do more.” He cringed, hoping they weren’t going to have to show their father the room with the coffin in it. He had no story for that.
“You’re welcome to stay,” Maddie added, “but you’ll need to book at least one week in advance. We’re kind of popular.”
Marcus looked at Max, then at Maddie and Theo. “Motel Mattigan, huh?” he asked.
“Exactly!” Max and Maddie desperately agreed.
“Amusing,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Now, let’s go see about this ghost.”
And then, finally, he headed upstairs.
Max and Maddie looked to grab their brother to make him explain himself before they followed, but he seemed to be expecting that. The sleep-deprived little bugger somehow found the energy to sprint for the steps.
CHAPTER THREE
Mattigan Material
“Watch this,” Marcus said. The Mattigans were in their father’s Media Room on the second floor. He clicked his remote toward the wall-mounted monitor, the one they watched episodes of his show on before they were officially aired. “This was on just a few minutes ago,” he explained. “It’s so ridiculous. I had to come find you.” Then he hit Play.
The news came on. A blonde lady behind a desk said, “We have quite a stir happening down in Ashland today, where a few dozen protesters, along with thousands of folks on the internet, are claiming that at midnight last night a teenager was possessed by a ghost.”
Marcus paused the video and looked at his kids. “This is what passes for ‘news’ these days,” he complained.
“Television,” Max and Maddie sighed.
“Show the rest!” Theo demanded. He not only seemed awake, but looked ready to jump out of his skin. “Show the rest! Show the rest!”
Max and Maddie looked at each other and silently agreed that their brother had lost his mind.
“Alright, alright,” Marcus said. “Hold your haunted horse.”
“Dad!” all three kids groaned.
Marcus winked, but hit Play again. On came a normal-looking, two-story duplex on a normal-looking street. About two dozen people were standing on the lawn in front of the left side of the building. They were all holding up posters and picket signs, and chanting something too hard to hear clearly.
The video switched back to the newscaster, who said, “It seems the boy, identified as sixteen-year-old Sam Inada, has been obsessed with summoning ghosts for the past six months. And, well, according to this video posted online by his sister just after midnight last night, quite a few folks think he succeeded.”
On came footage showing a skinny kid wearing black jeans with zippers all around the legs and a black shirt with mesh sleeves. He was sitting at his computer, talking into a webcam. Both of his eyebrows were pierced, and he was wearing a necklace with a charm that appeared to be the left half of a ghost. You could tell the camera recording him was hidden by some laundry. The lens seemed to be aimed through mesh.
“Okay, everyone,” the kid said excitedly. “I’m finally ready! I think I’ve found every theory about ghosts and every summoning spell ever. Even some new stuff. It’s taken me days to upload it all, but I’ve just scanned in the last of it. I’ll be summoning my dead dog, Derpy, for practice. My plan is to try one summoning spell every night until we find one that works. That’s right, I’m starting my very own reality web show! It’s called Ghost of a Chance with Sam Inada!”
Marcus paused the video just as a large shadow fell over Sam in his chair. “So far so good,” Marcus said. “It’s all very nice, but this is where things get a bit dark…. See what I did there?”
“PLAY!” Theo screamed.
“Theo,” Marcus said, “are you feeling—?”
“I’m good,” Theo promised.
Marcus gave him a long look, but hit Play again.
The shadow covered Sam completely now, and then he suddenly flew backward off his chair and onto the floor like he’d been yanked by a cord.
“Oh, my gosh!” Maddie gasped.
“Hold on,” Marcus said. “It gets better.”
“Wow,” said Max. Because the boy’s body looked like it was being attacked by shadows, or a single swirling silhouette. Sam’s already black clothes turned completely dark, and then his skin did, as well, until he looked like a cut-out of a human shape on the floor.
“Pretty decent special effects,” Marcus admitted.
Max and Maddie looked at each other. Whatever this was, it was disturbing.
Then the shadow was gone. It was impossible to say whether it had been absorbed into Sam’s body or simply vanished. Regardless, Sam looked like himself again. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, rushed to his computer, and clicked around like mad. After a few moments, he looked into his webcam and said in a very odd and slow voice, “I am very sorry, everyone. I have just been playing around. Please forgive me.” And then he clicked something. And then the video ended.
But then, on came a girl who looked a lot like Sam. She had shiny black hair in two ponytails, but wore typical make-up and a pink T-shirt. “My name is Fifi Inada,” she said, talking fast and looking side-to-side like she was recording herself in secret. “That was my brother, Sam. He doesn’t know I was filming him. I’ve been really worried about his obsession with ghosts these past few months. Before all this, he was — normal. I was taping him to show my mom that she better come out of her room once in a while and start paying attention to her kids! Why should I have to do her job? I’m fifteen! He’s been planning to summon a ghost for a while now, but I didn’t learn that until I stole his diary after that — that thing — got him tonight.”
Fifi looked and sounded desperate. “Someone out there,” she begged, “you have to tell me what happened to Sam! What was that shadow? As soon as he got up, he deleted everything he scanned. I mean, it was all unhealthy, all that stuff, I’m sure. But he’s — he’s different now. He acts like he has no interest in ghosts and never did. It’s like his memory of it has all been wiped out. And he talks different. Something’s — off about him, and I don’t even want to be here with him in the house. It’s not him! Someone out there. You’ve got to help!”
The scene switched back to the protesters, then zoomed in on the duplex. The newscaster’s voice came back on: “Amateur internet sleuths have been analyzing the video overnight, though no one as yet has been able to determine how the effects were created. People started showing up at the house as early as six this morning. The kids’ mother, Julie Inada, a divorced stay-at-home mom about whom little is known, has thus far refused to answer the door or her phone.”
Marcu
s paused the video one more time and looked at his kids. “What do you think?” he asked. “Mattigan material, wouldn’t you say?”
“Definitely Mattigan material,” Maddie agreed.
“Should we go down there and do a little ghost busting?”
“Definitely ghost busting,” Max confirmed.
“Shall we vote?”
“A foot!” Max said, putting out his sneaker.
“A fist!” Maddie added enthusiastically, holding one out.
“Ten fingas!” Theo cried, putting in both of his entire hands. He waved them around in case anyone had missed the point.
“Theo,” Marcus said, “I appreciate your enthusiasm. Is there something you want to share with—?”
“I’ll go pack!” Theo said, and then he was off again, scampering out of the room.
“We’ll talk to him,” Max promised.
“Okay,” Marcus said. “But packing is the first order of business for everyone. We need to act fast.”
“But, Dad,” Maddie said before they were shooed off, “how are we going to learn anything if those kids’ mom won’t answer the phone or let anyone in the house?”
“That’s a good question,” Marcus admitted. “But I’ll think of something. That’s what I—”
“Maybe his girlfriend will help us,” Max suggested.
“His girlfriend?” both Maddie and Marcus asked.
Max walked up to the screen, which was still showing a close-up of the duplex. He pointed to the right half, which was someone else’s home, and tapped on an upstairs window. Standing in it was a girl in all black: black leggings under a black skirt and T-shirt with a skull and crossbones on it. Her eyebrow was pierced and her eyes were ringed with black liner. Most importantly, she was wearing a necklace with a charm that appeared to be the right side of a ghost. She was looking down at all of the protesters, anxiously chewing a black-painted fingernail.
Marcus patted Max on the head and said, “Exactly. Like Max said. The boy’s girlfriend will help us. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a number for her parents,” he added. “And I bet they’ll answer their phone.” Max and Maddie could tell their father’s mental wheels were turning fast now. “I’m sure they’d like to be rid of the disturbance on their street as quickly as possible,” he told them. “We need to move extra fast now — before some reporter gets as observant as Maxwell Mattigan, amateur spy. We leave in ten.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Plan
Four and a half hours later, just past noon, the Mattigans drove into Ashland, Oregon. Marcus had easily discovered that the duplex was on Lilac Circle. It was all over the internet. He intentionally parked a block away, though.
“Okay, offspring,” he said before they got out. “Ready to do battle with the forces of dorkness? Forces of dorkness. See what I did there?”
“Not bad, Dad,” Max admitted. “Not good, mind you, but not bad.”
“Bursting with pride,” Marcus joked. “So, we’re ready then?”
“Two of us are,” Maddie said. “Should we wake the dead?”
“Is Theo still sleeping?”
“He didn’t even remember his peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich bag,” Max reported. “We think he’s been staying up all night making Frankentoys.”
“Frankentoys?”
“That’s what he’s now calling the toys he buys when you guys go yardsale-ing,” Maddie explained. “After he takes them apart and puts them back together in weird combinations, of course.”
“His combos? I like this new name better. Yes, wake up Dr. Frankentoy.”
“GHOST!” Max screamed into Theo’s sleeping ear.
“Mommy!” Theo cried, bolting upright. His eyes were spinning round like the tops he sometimes bought at those sales.
“Ah-ha-ha!” Max laughed.
“Max,” Maddie sighed. “You promised no more teasing.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry, Theo.”
“Frmpf!” Theo protested, trying to come to his senses.
“Teachable Moment, Theodore,” Marcus said. “Proper sleep equals proper growth and development. You need to get to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. Now, let’s get going. We’re wasting precious time.” He got out, so his kids grabbed their bags and met him on the sidewalk.
“So, what’s the plan?” Maddie asked as they started walking toward Lilac.
“The neighbors who share the duplex with the Inadas are the Kubatniks,” Marcus explained. “Louise Kubatnik, the woman of the house is, I’m happy to say, a big fan of my show. Her husband Kirk is, too. More good news: He’s an amateur filmmaker, so he’ll follow me around with a camera.”
“Perfect!” Maddie said.
“They were more than happy to let us stay with them, especially because they’re concerned about Ida, their daughter, who’s a wreck about the whole thing.”
“The girlfriend,” Max said.
“Right.”
“To quote a certain little brother,” Max said, “told ya.”
“Told ya, told ya,” Theo muttered as he shuffled along, zombie-like.
“So, what’s the plan?” Maddie asked again.
“Like I said, we’re going to talk to the Kubatniks.”
“That’s the plan?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, you’ve been thinking about it in total silence for over four hours,” Maddie said. “The whole trip, like you always do. And, well, that’s not a very detailed plan.”
“Maddie,” Marcus laughed, “most of my planning is thinking ahead about what to do if certain possibilities come to pass. For example, I’ve been considering what I’ll do if the Kubatniks tell me X, or if they tell me Y, and all of the various schemes I might use to get in to see the Inadas. I’ve come up with lots of ideas, everything short of making a hole in the wall between their houses.” He laughed again.
“Let’s make a hole in the wall!” Theo cried, awake again. But then he shouted, “Look at that!”
The group had reached Lilac and now stopped in its tracks. The protest had quadrupled in size. The duplex’s lawn was too small to contain it, so it had spilled into the street. Police were on the scene, keeping it under control. People were shouting and waving signs. And now it was clear that there were two groups waving signs, one against ghosts and one for them. In the pro-ghost group, the kids could see someone with a banner that read, “Ghosts are Super AND Natural!”
Someone was selling T-shirts in the crowd. He was wearing one that said, “The Ashland Ghost,” with the date printed underneath. It had a picture of a floating sheet with eyes cut out of it.
“People,” the Mattigans all sighed.
The protesters had not taken much notice of the new arrivals in their midst, but as the Mattigans headed toward the Kubatniks’ house, the kids could see that that was, at least in part, because some sort of news was spreading. All eyes were on phones. The word “video” was on everyone’s lips.
Max had the fastest fingers. “Check this out,” he said, waving everyone over to look at his cell. “It was posted just a few minutes ago.”
It was Fifi Inada again, this time looking calm and composed. She was sitting at a desk. “I would like to apologize,” she said, speaking very slowly and somewhat oddly, the way her brother had when he’d apologized at the end of his own video. “For the bad trick I helped my brother play. Together, we pretended that he was possessed by a ghost with some special computer tricks. Please do not believe any of it. Please go home from our house and forget about all of these silly ghost stories. Thank you.”
Cheering sounded from most of the people on the street. The small collection of ghost supporters booed.
“I bet you didn’t plan for the case to solve itself,” Maddie told her dad, feeling let down.
“I have to say that I did not,” Marcus admitted. He looked
disappointed, but not too disappointed. “Anyone up for seeing Hamlet at the Ashland Shakespeare Festival?” he asked. “There’s a ghost in that play that I’m betting will show up.”
But just then another buzz swept through the crowd, and now the Mattigans clearly heard the words “another video” being spoken all around them.
“Here it is,” Max said, already on it, and so they all leaned in again.
It was Sam Inada this time. “I — you won’t believe this,” he said. “So, I’m just going to show you. It’s not possible, but — I saw it with my own eyes. I don’t know what’s happening or what to do. I don’t remember what happened to me last night, or why I deleted all my research, or even what my research was! My sister deleted her video, but I see copies of it all over the Web. This is why she posted that new video just now, that phony apology. Comment if you know what’s going on!”
On came a shot of Fifi in her room typing furiously at her computer. Sam apparently had her door cracked open to peek in with a camera. Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. Then she flew off her chair the same way he had, and the shadow swarmed over and, perhaps, into her. Then, just like Sam, she jumped up and ran to her computer and started talking into her webcam.
“Well, then, where were we?” Marcus asked when Max put his phone back into his pocket. “Ah, yes,” he answered himself. “We were just about to visit our new friends, the Kubatniks.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Kubatniks
Marcus reached for the doorbell, but the door opened before he got the chance to press it.
“Ah-ha!” Max cried, but his favorite door-opening line was drowned out by the joyous cries of a short, middle-aged woman with plucked eyebrows and her hair in a bun.
“Oh, my goodness!” she gushed. “I can hardly believe my eyes. Marcus Mattigan! The Marcus Mattigan! Come in! Come in!” She grabbed Marcus by the hand he was holding out and pulled him into the house. Maddie, who always found it amusing to see her father get treated like a star, smiled and followed him inside, hustling Theo along with her. Annoyed, Max followed along, too.
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