by Suzanne Weyn
She was wearing the silver locket!
“Get it off me!” Jessica shouted, clutching at her throat. “Sam, I’m not kidding! I want it off me!”
Samantha leaped behind Jessica and tried to work open the locket’s clasp. “Stop moving!” she demanded. “I can’t get it with you jumping around like that.”
Jessica forced herself to stand still. “Take it off! Take if off!” she whimpered impatiently.
Finally Samantha flicked the latch, and the locket fell to the floor. Instantly Jessica kicked it down the hall. Running to meet it, she kicked it again, even farther away. “There!” she announced triumphantly. “Now that ghost maid can pick it up, and she’s welcome to it.”
“I hope so,” Samantha agreed. Maybe getting rid of the locket was all it would take to make their troubles go away. She really hoped so.
THE FOLLOWING morning after breakfast, Samantha and Jessica entered a luxurious room of brocade couches, polished wooden furniture, and glistening crystal chandeliers. Elaborate flower arrangements of hydrangeas and magnolias adorned the tables, and richly colored glass Tiffany shades shimmered above their silver lamp stands. It was a replica of the Titanic’s first-class reading and writing lounge. Shelves of leather-bound books lined the walls.
The girls hadn’t bothered to wear their costumes, since Samantha had been terrified of venturing back down to the wardrobe room. Now, in her jeans, cotton hoodie, and flip-flops, Samantha felt completely out of place in this elaborate and ornate ballroom.
According to the cruise brochure, within the reading and writing lounge there was a lounge open to the first-class passengers only, with a special exhibit telling all about the history of the original Titanic. Although Samantha and Jessica weren’t technically first-class passengers, their parents were, and it seemed like a good destination for gathering information that might shed some light on exactly what was going on.
Jessica headed for a dark wooden wall covered with faded photos, yellowed news clippings, and drawings. “These weren’t in this room originally, though,” she asked. “Were they?”
“How could they have been?” Samantha replied. “Some of these articles are about the day it sank.”
“Then this part of the ship isn’t an exact re-creation,” Jessica said.
“No, I guess not,” Samantha agreed. “The wardrobe room can’t be the exact same either. So the ship isn’t one hundred percent the same then.”
“I sure hope they have more lifeboats,” Jessica added.
“They must have,” Samantha said, but she felt a little shiver of worry, just the same.
Together, they perused the wall of framed artifacts. While Jessica became engrossed in a news article about the launching of the “unsinkable” Titanic, Samantha went down the row of portraits of the passengers, crew, and employees.
Samantha stopped short at one old photo, riveted by the faces in front of her. It showed the serving staff of the ship standing stiffly at attention, all dressed in their butler uniforms and maid outfits.
With her nose nearly to the glass, Samantha studied each face until she found the one she was looking for. When she found it, her breath caught in her throat for a moment. She stared even closer.
“Jess! It’s her,” she said excitedly. “I’ve found her. She’s in this photo.”
Jessica was instantly beside her. “Who have you found?”
“The maid — the ghost!”
“The ghost?”
“The one who was in our cabin searching for the locket,” Samantha insisted, certain she was right. The girl was exactly as she remembered her but without the pale, ghostly appearance. This girl was lively and young.
“Is there a list of names anywhere?” Jessica asked. They searched the area but all they found was a caption beside the photo that identified it as MAIDS AND BUTLERS OF THE TITANIC.
“I wonder if we can find out anything about her,” Samantha said. “There must be a list of servants somewhere.”
“I wish our phones were working,” Jessica added with a sigh. “We could search on the Internet.”
“Our phones should work even without Wi-Fi. How are they doing this?” Samantha said, frustrated to be so cut off from the rest of the world.
“I don’t know,” Jessica admitted.
At a center table was a model of the ship, much like the one John had been interested in back at the Haunted Museum gift shop, only larger. It was encased in glass. Jessica and Samantha gazed at it, fascinated at every tiny detail. Even the passengers and crew were shown as miniaturized figures on the decks. Samantha knelt so that she was at eye level with the top A and B Decks of the model ship. “It’s so detailed,” she observed as her eyes traveled over the exquisitely intricate replication of every single element of the original ship.
Jessica came beside her, also kneeling. “Look at that,” she said, pointing to one of the small model figures that populated the decks. “There’s Astor, his wife, and the cute dog.”
“And I see a figure of Molly Brown. She’s wearing the same outfit Ashley Holmes wore yesterday morning,” Jessica noticed. “See her sitting in a lounge chair?”
Samantha gripped Jessica’s shoulder. “It’s us. Right there! Look.” Figures of two dark-haired girls stood next to the outer railing of the ship. One wore a big hat with a gold jacket and a hobble skirt, and the other had on a straight maroon dress and a feather in her upswept hair.
Jessica tapped the glass. “And that boy not far from them … doesn’t he look sort of like John?”
Samantha had to admit that with its light hair, loose denim shirt, and straight pants, the figure did resemble John.
“Oh no,” Samantha murmured.
“What is it?” Jessica asked.
Samantha tapped the glass, pointing to another of the miniature figures. It was a slim girl dressed in a maid’s uniform. Her direction made it clear that she was walking directly toward the girls by the ship’s railing. She carried a bundle in her hands, covered in white cloth. What was in it? A weapon of some kind?
“Let’s get out of here,” Samantha suggested, standing. “This room is giving me the creeps.”
JESSICA LED them to a café, also in first class. “Dad showed me this place earlier. You’ve got to be starving.”
“I am,” Samantha admitted. Samantha and Jessica were the only customers in the café, and Samantha was glad that the place was casual, with wicker furniture and tropical, potted plants. A waiter in his twenties came to their table and smiled. “I’m Trevor, and I’ll be your server tonight,” he said.
“Is that how waiters spoke in nineteen-twelve?” Jessica teased.
Trevor laughed as he handed them each a menu. “I’m sure they didn’t. I’ll be back for your orders.”
The menu was the same as it had been back in 1912. “I don’t even know what any of this stuff is,” Samantha noted as she read. “Consommé fermier, fillets of brill, egg à L’Argenteuil.”
“Try the roast beef sandwich,” Jessica suggested. “At least we’ve heard of that.”
Trevor returned with silverware wrapped in white cloth napkins. “So how are you ladies liking the cruise so far?” he asked.
“Trevor, tell us the truth. Does the crew intentionally try to scare the passengers?” Samantha asked. “Is that part of the so-called fun?”
“No!” he replied emphatically. “Not at all. We copy the Titanic as close as we can. But we would never purposely scare anyone.”
“Are you sure?” Jessica pressed him.
“Really,” Trevor insisted. “Why? Did something frighten you?”
Speaking rapidly, the girls poured out their stories to him. “And then when we saw that there were miniature replicas of us on that model ship, we got so creeped out that we had to leave,” Samantha concluded.
“I can explain that,” Trevor ventured. “The costumes you have are almost exact replicas of clothing worn by passengers. I don’t remember anyone hired to dress as Astor, though.”
/> “And what about the locket that’s following me around?” Jessica challenged.
Folding his arms, Trevor studied them skeptically. “I think you two are trying to scare me.”
“Honest, we’re not,” Samantha assured him. “It’s all true.”
“Let me put in the orders,” Trevor said. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll show you something that might interest you.”
In several minutes, Trevor returned with their drinks and a large album tucked under his arm. He laid it on the table between them. “This isn’t the original, but it’s an exact replica,” he told them. “It might interest you while I’m getting your food.”
The girls gazed down at the big hardcover album. In gold letters the words White Star Cruise Line: Titanic Passenger Lists were embossed.
Gently opening the ledger, Samantha read the first page. “Maiden voyage. April nineteen-twelve. Passenger list.”
“When the voice spoke to me, it called me Alice,” Samantha recalled. “It must think I’m Alice Littlefield. Let’s see if we can find her in here. It might tell us something.”
The girls sat at the table, running their eyes up and down the columns, mesmerized by the seemingly endless list. All these people from every walk of life, rich and poor, thought they were taking the most wonderful journey of their lives on the greatest ship ever built. None could have dreamed of the tragedy about to befall them.
Samantha quickly saw that there would be no help in finding the maid’s name here. “Astor, Mrs. J. J. and Maid,” she read. “Aubert, Mrs. N. and Maid.”
“Here’s a Mrs. A. Fortune,” Jessica said.
“That’s her husband’s initial.” Samantha had realized that there were no first names listed for married women. “His name was probably Arthur or Albert or something like that.”
“I’m seeing double!” A male voice spoke from behind them.
In unison, the girls turned. John stood between them.
“How did you find us?” Jessica asked, her voice becoming higher and more whispery, like it did every time she flirted with a cute boy.
“I thought I was only searching for one of you. Now I’m confused. Which one of you did I talk to yesterday?”
“Both of us,” Samantha told him.
“We’re sisters,” Jessica added. “I never told you my name.”
“I didn’t realize.” He pulled up a chair from a table behind and sat between them. “Ah, I see you’re going over the passenger list. What are you looking for?”
At the same moment, each sister nudged her chair a little closer to John. He was so cute! Samantha noticed the adoring way Jessica gazed at him and realized she had been doing the same.
Should she tell him about their bizarre encounters? Samantha decided not to and hoped Jessica wouldn’t, either. It might sound so foolish. What would he think of them?”
“We’re just looking at the passengers’ names,” Samantha said. “They have some cool old-fashioned names.” She began reading down the list. “Cornelia, Elsie, Harriet, Gladys, Alice …”
Alice!
“Here it is!” Jessica said as she searched through the lists. “Matilda Littlefield and Alice Littlefield.”
Samantha and Jessica stared at each other as they read the notations beside their names. “Cabin two-ninety-nine!” they both cried at the same time.
“Excuse me,” John said, pushing back on his chair and rising. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Samantha murmured, still staring down at the album. Was this why the numbers of their cabin kept changing?
Trevor came back with two plates containing roast beef sandwiches. “Now you really have me scared,” he remarked as he set them on the table. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Samantha pointed to the room number listed for the Littlefield sisters. “Remember we told you about the way our room numbers keep switching from two-sixty-six to two-ninety-nine?” she reminded him. “Look at this listing!”
Trevor pushed back his hair as his eyes went wide. “That’s so sketchy.”
“Isn’t it?” Jessica agreed.
“You girls need to talk to my mom,” Trevor said. “She’s amazing with stuff like this.”
“We can’t,” Jessica replied. “Haven’t you noticed that there’s no cell reception?”
“Not a problem — she works here, too. I’ll tell her what’s going on and see what she thinks.”
“Thanks!” Samantha said. She had the feeling that if they didn’t get help soon … well, she was terrified of what might happen.
I WONDER WHY John never came back,” Jessica mused as they walked back toward their cabin.
“He might have run into someone he knew,” Samantha guessed.
“Probably.”
“Maybe we should tell Mom and Dad about this,” Samantha suggested. “I mean, some seriously weird stuff has been happening.”
“Why ruin the cruise for them?” Jessica disagreed. “They wouldn’t believe us, but they’d still worry that something was wrong.”
“I suppose you’re right. Why do you think that ghost maid called me Alice? I need to know more about Alice Littlefield,” Samantha mused unhappily. “I feel like it’s important.”
They stopped in front of their cabin door. “Okay, it definitely says two-sixty-six, right?” Samantha said.
“Right,” Jessica concurred.
They entered the cabin, both gazing around warily. Everything seemed to be as they’d left it.
Jessica sighed. “I need a shower. But I don’t want to open the wardrobe for my robe. That locket is in there.”
“No. You kicked it down the hall. Remember?” Samantha reminded her.
“You’re right. Oh, good. Okay.” Despite her words, she didn’t open the wardrobe.
“What’s wrong?” Samantha asked as she changed into her pajamas.
“What if it’s back in there?”
The idea gave Samantha gooseflesh. She couldn’t even tell her sister she was being crazy. Together, they stared at the wardrobe. Did they dare open it?
“I don’t need my robe,” Jessica decided.
Samantha nodded. “No. You don’t really need it.”
Jessica grabbed her nightshirt from her open suitcase and headed for the bathroom. “Oh, I forgot. No shower — only a tub. I wish they had some modern conveniences on this ship. Oh well.” In the middle of the bathroom sat a claw-footed, gleaming white porcelain tub with ornate golden fixtures. A white lace shower curtain hung on an oval rod and could be drawn all the way around.
While Jessica ran the tub, Samantha tried to focus on the articles in Jessica’s fashion magazine that predicted next season’s must-have styles — anything to take her mind off recent events. She had to rest her brain. It was becoming exhausted from trying to figure out what could be causing all these strange happenings.
“Did you see how John was smiling at me?” Jessica called from the bathroom over the sound of the running faucet. “I’m pretty sure he likes me.”
Samantha didn’t want to argue. But Jessica just annoyed her so much sometimes. “He was smiling at me, too.” Samantha couldn’t resist countering. He had smiled at her, too. Just as much as at Jessica.
Jessica appeared in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a towel. “You?”
“Yes, me,” Samantha confirmed, indignant at Jessica’s disbelief. “I think it’s me he likes.” There! She’d said it, and she was proud she had. “It’s not so impossible to believe.”
“I didn’t know you were even interested in boys,” Jessica remarked skeptically.
“I like boys. Some boys,” Samantha responded defensively. “Remember Robbie Alan last month? He called my cell almost every night for two weeks.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t interested in him.”
“So? It still proves that a guy could like me.”
Jessica folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, studying Samantha as though seeing her in a new, unfamiliar way. “You’re still too
young for John,” Jessica decided confidently, turning back toward the bathroom. “He’s at least fifteen — maybe even sixteen. Besides, he wasn’t smiling at you.”
“He was!”
“No, he — Oh, you’re the sweetest sister. You’re just giving me a hard time to take my mind off the locket. Verrrry funny — saying he was smiling at you.” Jessica shook her head. “I should have known you were kidding,” she added, chuckling as she headed into the bathroom.
Furious, Samantha scooped the room-service menu off the bed stand and hurled the leather binder at her sister. It bounced off the bathroom door just as Jessica shut it behind her.
Jessica could be so conceited sometimes! It never even occurred to her that John might like Samantha more.
From behind the bathroom door, Jessica began singing a popular song. Normally Samantha liked her sister’s singing. She had a good voice. Sometimes they sang together and Samantha enjoyed harmonizing.
“This is stupid,” Samantha muttered softly. They were fighting over a boy who they barely knew. He hadn’t said much in the café. They didn’t even know anything about him. And then he’d taken off without saying good-bye.
He was good-looking, though. There was no denying that. When John looked at her, Samantha was sure there was something special between them. Maybe it was just the twinkling light in his blue eyes.
Still, she didn’t want to fight with Jessica. In addition to being her sister, Jessica was also her best friend.
A celebrity interview in the magazine caught Samantha’s interest, and she was soon caught up in it, forgetting her concerns for the moment. Mentally she was far away, but gradually she became aware of something thrashing around like a wild animal caught in a trap.
It was coming from the bathroom.
GETTING OFF the bed, Samantha approached the bathroom door. The faucet was still running, which made it difficult to hear. There was a ripping sound, as if cloth were being torn, and then a bang.
Pressing her ear to the door, she listened more closely. The thumping and thrashing kept up, and she detected something that sounded like muffled cries.
