Haunted Memories

by Phoebe Rivers

  “Some I see. Some I used to and don’t anymore.” She shrugged. “Maybe they left, though I suspect my ability isn’t what it used to be. The older I get, the more out of touch I am.”

  I suddenly needed her to say it. Admit it straight out. “They’re dead, right? The other people in this house.”

  She smiled knowingly. “Yes, Sara, they are no longer living. They are spirits. You and I are some of the special ones who can see them.”

  “And hear them talk?” I wanted to get it all out there.

  “And hear them. Though, I admit, my hearing spirits days may be behind me now. Been kind of fuzzy on that the last few years. I can still call up spirits. Of course, who shows up is not always who was on the guest list.” Her expression grew serious. “My little communication problem is our secret. I have a business to run. Understood?”

  I nodded. “So it’s for real? You can do everything your sign says?”

  “Yes and no.” She sipped her hot chocolate. “Who is to know what is real and what isn’t? I can’t say. Can you? What appears to be a snake in a darkened room is revealed to be a rope when the light is thrown on. But if the light is never turned on, it will be forever a snake in our minds.”

  “I don’t understand.” Again with the riddles.

  “There are many kinds of real. Are the spirits you see real?”

  “Yes. Well, to me. But others can’t see them,” I fumbled to explain.

  “Different realities.” She pushed a marshmallow under the hot chocolate, then watched it bob to the surface. “Many people will say what you experience is not real because they themselves have not experienced it. They can accept only what they can prove, given the five senses they have.”

  “I used to think I was crazy,” I admitted, “because I see people everyone else doesn’t.”

  “Not everyone.” She readjusted her robe and leaned forward. “I see them. Others see them. Not many others. I have known only a handful in my life.”

  I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one. The words chorused around me.

  “Why me?” I had so many questions. “Why can I see them and not my dad or Lily?”

  “You have an ability . . . a power . . . a sense that is sharper than the five senses.” Her eyes moved around the dim kitchen, searching for a way to explain. She walked to the cluttered desk. “This is my cell phone.” She held up a small black phone.

  “Yours?” I couldn’t believe someone so old had a cell.

  “Yes, mine.” She grinned. “I thought I’d use something you’d recognize. Try thinking of people as cell phones. Some are not in tune with the world around them. They function on just one bar of power. Others are highly sensitive to smells or tastes or sounds. They work with three, four, or five bars on any given day. But Sara, you have many more bars than the screen will ever show. You can receive information from beyond the scope of the phone’s range. You are wired differently. Better, I think.”

  “And you, too?”

  “Me, too, though I suspect your powers are stronger than mine. You saw and heard Lily’s great-aunt. I did not.”

  “I never used to.” Again I fumbled to explain. “They’ve always been there. Spirits, I mean. When I was little, teachers and babysitters thought I had imaginary friends.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. Talking about this made my throat tighten.

  “Your father . . .” For the first time, Lady Azura looked uneasy. “Does he know?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “He’d be freaked out. He refuses to even watch a TV show that has a supernatural plot. You won’t tell him, will you?” I could hear my desperation.

  “No, I won’t tell him,” she said softly. “But Sara, you shouldn’t shut him out. He may understand more than you think.”

  “He wouldn’t,” I insisted. She knew nothing of my dad’s and my relationship.

  “Coming here may have changed the way he thinks.”

  “You’re wrong. We can’t tell him. Ever.” I thought for a moment about Lady Azura’s big, old house and the spirits lurking in almost every room. “When I moved here, I suddenly saw them everywhere. And clearer. I could hear them too.”

  Lady Azura’s dark eyes sparkled. “I believe you are feeding off my energy.” She raised her arms and clasped her hands in front of her. “The potential! Oh, the potential is huge!”

  “For what?” The fluttery, panicked feeling rose from my stomach into my throat.

  “My powers have weakened with age, but you are just beginning. You have the ability to siphon my heightened energies and use them to connect with the unconnected. There is no telling what you can do.”

  She must have noticed the terrified look on my face, so she added, “Sara, you have a gift. It is a good thing.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way. I don’t know how to work it, and I don’t know what these spirits want from me or how to get them to leave me alone.” I gnawed my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood. “I don’t want this. I just want to be normal.”

  “Normal is overrated, my child.” Lady Azura leaned forward as if to touch me, but I shrank back. “You are special. Very few are. Be proud. I am.”

  “So there’s no way to make it go away? To make them go away?” I couldn’t believe this. I thought she’d have the solution. The way to fix this problem. But she didn’t see it as a problem. She was proud she could see spirits.

  “They never go away,” she said softly. “But there are ways to control them. Ways for you to be in charge. You still have a lot to learn.”

  The hot chocolate left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I swallowed hard and stood. “I don’t want to learn!” I realized I was shouting and lowered my voice. I couldn’t wake my dad. “I don’t want ghosts in my house or in my school!”

  “There are forces, Sara, that are greater than what we want. Let me help you—”

  “I can’t do this.” I was suddenly exhausted. “I’m—I’m sorry.” I hurried out of the kitchen and padded back up the stairs.

  I’m not the only one.

  So what? I didn’t want to be in a special club with Lady Azura. I just wanted to be like everyone else.

  Was that so wrong?

  CHAPTER 8

  Principal Bowman was absent on Monday. Absent! I didn’t think principals could be absent. Didn’t she know kids needed her?

  I’d spent all weekend planning what I’d say. How I’d stand up for myself and fix everything. I didn’t need Lady Azura’s help. I could at least get out of the Harvest Queen mix-up by myself.

  But not with the principal gone.

  I slipped into science, flashing Miss Klingert my pass. No labs today. She diagramed eclipses, and we took notes. Jayden buried his head in his notebook. He never looked at me. Not once.

  Other kids did. Ever since I’d entered the building, strange eyes watched me.

  Christine caught up with me as soon as the bell rang.

  “So you fixed it, right?” she asked.

  “Kind of.” I balanced my notebooks in my arms and watched Jayden head toward the door. Spirit Boy followed. Jayden stopped and looked back at me and Christine. He shook his head and plunged into the hallway crowds. Should I run after him, tell him I wasn’t the dance queen type, that it was a mistake—

  “What do you mean? Are you in or out?” Christine demanded.

  “I still need to talk to the principal.”

  “You’re playing me, right?” She had her hands on her hips. “Just own up that you’re totally running against me. I trusted you and you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie. You’ve got to believe me. I’ll be out of it tomorrow,” I promised.

  “You won’t win,” she pointed out. “No one knows who you are.”

  As I squeezed my way through the halls to my locker, I realized Christine was wrong. Kids did know who I was. I could hear them whispering. New girl.

  “Do you like them?” Avery waited beside my locker.

  “What?” I snapped. I was in a bad mood.
<
br />   “The posters. I made three this weekend, but if I can get Tamara and Lily to help, we can make a lot tonight. Miranda might not be so into it, but I’ll ask her, too.” She pointed across the hall.

  A huge poster proclaiming SURF A NEW WAVE FOR HARVEST QUEEN! SARA COLLINS! hung on the wall. She had drawn a surfboard in jewel-tone markers and decorated it with little crowns all covered in gold glitter.

  I wanted to tear it down. It made no sense. I didn’t surf. And I wasn’t running! But then I saw how excited Avery was. I couldn’t be mean to her. She was trying to be my friend.

  “Wow!” I faked enthusiasm. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I know, right? I told you I’d be the best campaign manager. I have so many ideas. I’m so glad you’re doing this.” She bounced on her toes. She stood a full head shorter than I did, yet she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy filling the halls.

  “The thing is, I’m not doing it,” I admitted. “I’m still waiting to see the principal. I’m sorry you did all that work.”

  “But Sara, you have to. We need to put the others in their place. You and me. I’ll be behind the scenes, and you’ll wear the crown.” She pointed to one of the glitter crowns on her poster.

  I suddenly had the strangest feeling. The crowns she’d drawn looked exactly like the crown I’d found in my locker.

  I examined the poster again. Avery was very artistic. Even though I didn’t like the message, the hand lettering was excellent. Had Avery written my name on the application? Had she left the crown in my locker? Was she the one behind all this?

  She tapped my locker with her hand. “Don’t drop out, okay?” Then she walked away.

  For once, the icy air felt good.

  I stood in front of my open locker, letting the coldness wash over me.

  What did I know about Avery? She’d been friends with Lily since third grade. She was very into gymnastics and could do something called a back tuck. She’d always been nice to me, although she was kind of intense at times. She had this way of staring at you when she thought you weren’t looking. From talk at the lunchroom table, I gathered that she was passionate about lots of causes. Lily told me that Avery headed up every canned food drive at school.

  Not much to go on.

  The hall was emptying out. Only a few stragglers remained, taking their time before strolling to class. Math. I had math next. I bent down to grab my blue binder.

  “Interesting locker decoration,” commented a deep voice behind me.

  I whirled around. Gym teacher. Grinning as if he’d heard the funniest joke.

  “What?” I couldn’t believe how real he seemed. How solid. His bulbous nose. The wiry hairs in his thick eyebrows.

  He nodded at the inside of my locker door. A piece of paper was tucked under the square mirror I’d attached. I gulped and reached for it. The thick paper felt dry and brittle between my fingertips.

  CELEBRATE STELLAMAR

  AT THE HARVEST FESTIVAL.

  PARADE AT NOON.

  SEPTEMBER 27, 1952

  Simple block letters. The background had panels of faded red, orange, and yellow. A white trim bordered the flyer.

  “I didn’t figure you for an oldies kind of girl,” the gym teacher cracked. “Me on the other hand, I love oldies! I’m so old, I’m not over the hill, I’m over the mountain!” He broke into a deep guffaw, holding his shaking belly. “Get it?”

  The final bell rang.

  “Don’t want to be late.” He produced a packet of detention slips from his tracksuit pocket. “Not to worry. The early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse eats the cheese!” He laughed again. A hollow, empty laugh. His body shimmered, then faded.

  I slipped the old flyer into my binder, slammed my locker shut, and raced to math class, the gym teacher’s laughter ringing in my ears.

  I followed Lily into the lunch line. I usually bring my lunch, but I needed to talk where the other girls couldn’t hear.

  “It’s so not fair.” I told her about Principal Bowman taking the day off.

  “You’ll get out of it, don’t worry. And if you don’t, my cousin Dawn Marie can lend you her Harvest Queen dress. It’s bubblegum pink with tons of ruffles and all this scratchy lace. You’ll look so . . . royal!” She giggled and nudged me with her elbow, nearly knocking her iced tea bottle off her tray.

  “Quit it!” I nudged her back. “Tell Dawn Marie to keep her dress.” I watched her grab a plastic-wrapped bagel with cream cheese. “Or maybe Avery should wear it. She seems to be the most into it, don’t you think?”

  “Totally,” Lily agreed. “Avery’s all over it. Did you see the posters she made? They’re actually really cool. I mean, if you were really running”—she noticed my exasperated look—“which you are not.”

  “Do you think Avery seems more than just interested? Like she wanted this to happen?”

  “She loves the attention. Actually, if you did run, Avery really could help. She comes up with the best schemes. There was this one time when we were selling Girl Scout cookies . . .” I tuned Lily out as I picked up on a conversation farther down the line.

  “That’s her. Sara Collins,” one girl said, pointing in my direction.

  I stared at the selection of chips in front of me. Sweet potato, nacho, cheddar. I didn’t dare turn.

  “She’s not part of that snotty Caroline-Dina group, right? She’s new, and she’s really doing this?” the other girl asked.

  “Yeah. Didn’t you read Katherine’s blog this morning? She called her the normal-girl candidate. She’s not part of any group. Not a jock or a fashionista or a drama diva or an all-As-all-the-timer. She’s like a regular girl, like us. Normal.”

  “You don’t know that,” the second girl said.

  “I hope so.” The first girl sounded so wistful. “Don’t you?”

  “Sara?” Lily elbowed my arm. “You coming to the table?”

  She’d already paid. I was dying to look back at the girls, but I couldn’t face them. They thought I was normal. Me!

  The weight of it was too much. I couldn’t have these girls depending on me to change the clique structure of this school.

  By the end of my last-period class, I decided to confront Avery. It was the only way. She walked home too, but in the other direction. I’d just get to the door first and . . . I didn’t know what. But I had to say something. If she’d gotten me into this, then she could help me get out of it.

  I steadied myself for the arctic blast.

  It didn’t seem as cold, I’d found, if I psyched myself up before opening my locker. I’d grab my book bag and run to intercept Avery. I could even walk with her partway, since Lily had left early for a dentist appointment.

  I balanced my three binders and textbook in one arm, then twirled the combination lock, clicked it into place, and pulled open the door.

  My eyes watered slightly with the sudden chill.

  I pushed the door with my foot—and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

  I gasped, unable to turn away from what stared back.

  My binders clattered to the floor, metal rings popping and papers scattering. My hands flew up to cover my mouth.

  To cover my scream.

  CHAPTER 9

  A crown.

  A crudely drawn crown on my locker mirror.

  Drawn with pink lipstick.

  My legs trembled as I stared at it.

  Someone had been sneaking into my locker.

  Leaving weird messages that made no sense. What did the crown mean? Run for Harvest Queen? Or was it a warning not to?

  Was it Avery or someone else?

  I wrapped my arms around my ribs, pulling into myself. Everything was wrong.

  “Locker explosion?”

  He appeared beside me, his dark eyes surveying the damage. For a moment, all I could do was stare. The way his brown hair swept over his broad forehead. The woven band of hemp on his wrist. Then I noticed the papers. Everywhere. My homework. My
class notes. Scattered on the floor.

  Jayden bent down and began to gather them. “The lockers are wired like time bombs. I think the principal does it. A sinister plot to freak out kids,” he joked.

  I smiled. How could I not? “Thanks.” I quickly began to scoop up my papers. “It wasn’t a terrorist plot. The mirror scared me.”

  “Bad hair day?” Jayden asked. “That could definitely lead a Harvest Queen to destroy school property.”

  “No.” I stood and pointed to the mirror.

  To the mirror that was now empty. No crown. No anything.

  “What?” he asked, standing.

  I stared at the blank mirror. I had seen a crown—right?

  Suddenly I wasn’t so sure.

  “Uh . . . nothing.” I couldn’t stop looking at the mirror. At my quizzical expression staring back at me.

  “Here’s your book.” He pushed my textbook toward me, and I slowly reached for it. Then stopped. Midair.

  We had done this before.

  He had been standing like this, leaning against the locker and handing me a book. And now . . . here . . . again.

  My vision. This was it!

  “Do you want it?” He waved the book.

  I grabbed hold of the spine, then stepped closer. He smelled just right. Almond soap and peanut butter. I inhaled and took another step closer. The ruby crystal, tucked today in my back pocket, was working. Bringing us together.

  The hall grew dark. The air heavy. As if a storm was brewing.

  He was here.

  Spirit Boy. He stood beside Jayden. Watching me. Daring me with his cold eyes to draw closer.

  Jayden must have sensed something too, because he edged away from me. He scanned the nearly empty halls. “Wow! I’m going to miss my bus!” He ran for the main door, his athletic stride covering the distance with ease. Spirit Boy kept pace. “Later!” Jayden called to me down the hall.

  “I don’t want to be Harvest Queen!” I yelled after him. But it was too late. He’d already gone.

  “This is a first.” Principal Bowman pushed her tortoiseshell frames higher onto the bridge of her nose the next afternoon. “Girls usually beg me to let them run for Harvest Queen, but you want out.”