The Curse of the Lion's Heart

by Angella Graff

  “Now I know some of you girls might have er… uh… those um… you know. Once a month,” he sputtered, growing beet red, “so just bring a note, okay. You’ll be excused.” He cleared his throat and clapped his huge hands together. “Moving on. Make sure you bring clothes tomorrow to change into. Now, since none of you are prepared for any real vigorous activity,” he eyed several of the girls’ platform sandals or high heels, stuff my mother would never let me wear, “why don’t you all go back to your bags and get some paper and just write a short paragraph about yourselves and what sort of physical activity you like to do, and your favorite sport. Just… spread out on the floor and get it done.”

  Penelope and I slipped to the floor in front of the bench and began to dig into our bags for paper and a pencil. “Man he seems way awkward,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yeah I don’t think he likes doing this job,” I replied with a smirk.

  “Well he’s the basketball coach, but I guess he also has to teach a social studies class, and gym. I feel bad for the guy,” Penelope said as she scooted onto her stomach, her crooked legs leaning against the bench.

  I realized that Penelope had the in on all of the teachers since her mom was one of them, and that could definitely be a good thing. I propped my history book on my lap and began to write.

  “What are you putting for your favorite sport?” Penelope asked me just as I had finished writing the paragraph about myself.

  I frowned down at the rest of the empty sheet and rubbed my nose with the tip of the eraser. “I don’t know,” I finally said with a sigh. I didn’t like any sports, and the only active type of thing my mom ever did was run on her elliptical or do her yoga DVD’s.

  “Me either,” Penelope said with a sigh.

  I eventually just wrote down ‘I like to do yoga with my mom’, despite it sounding really lame. Penelope was still scribbling away on her paper, so I figured she came up with something interesting or funny, not like my own boring stuff.

  Suddenly, though, the sound of Penelope’s pencil scratches stopped, and when I looked over, I was horrified to see the Victorian girl there, her face scrunched up in an angry scowl. She was standing right in front of Penelope, and she was tapping one foot soundlessly on the gym floor.

  “How dare you,” she hissed at me. The air around me got freezing cold and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ignore her. “How dare you treat me like this?”

  I leaned my head back against the bench and closed my eyes, hoping that she would just go away. I didn’t want to speak to her again. I’d been embarrassed enough already for the day, but I wasn’t sure how to get her to take the hint.

  “You don’t seem to realize the danger we’re all in.” This time, instead of angry, she sounded scared.

  I peeked one eye open and saw her face drawn, her hands wrung together in front of her huge dress. Under any other circumstances, I would have heard her out, at least found out what she needed. That was kind of my job, whether I wanted it or not. But right now? Now? I could not keep being that freaky girl who talked to herself.

  My hand was shaking when I raised it into the air, and it took almost a full minute for the teacher to look at me. “Can I um… go to the uh…” and I nodded at the locker room. “Can I have the pass?”

  “Oh,” the teacher’s face got a little red just below his eyes. Clearly he didn’t like dealing with the girls’ female problems and he coughed before he said, “Yes, just go.”

  Penelope was frowning at me as I jumped up and ran to the locker room. The door slammed behind me, and instead of heading for the stalls, I slipped out the side door into the hallway. I ran up the ramp that led into the currently empty art hallway, and looked for a place out of view where I could stop and talk to this ghost.

  The wall had a little bit of a curve to it, and a ramp leading down to the doors where the busses came. I slipped into a crevice and closed my eyes. “Okay, what do you want?” I said, willing my voice to the ghost girl.

  I felt the air get a little cold again, and when I opened my eyes, there she was. I got a really good look at her now, and saw she had to be about my age, and definitely some sort of old royalty. “Explain yourself,” she commanded.

  I huffed, crossing my arms. “Listen, this isn’t a good time, okay. Who are you and what do you want?”

  There was a long pause where her expression looked almost offended that I didn’t know. Then, after what felt like forever, she opened her arms and declared, “My name is Elizabeth, Queen of Britain, and I’ve come to you for help!”

  My mouth dropped open at the sound of her name and my eyes went wide. Queen Elizabeth. Like the Queen Elizabeth? My dad would totally flip if he knew I was talking to her. Of course, he’d probably flip if he heard me say I could talk to ghosts, but that was beside the point.

  I glanced around to make sure no one was listening in and then lowered my voice. “Look, uh, your Majesty, or whatever, I want to help but I’m kind of in school right now. Also, I’m not sure if you know this, but you’re dead.” Sometimes the ghosts knew, and sometimes they were a little confused and thought they were still in their own time.

  Her eyebrows went down and her eyes narrowed. “I’m well aware that I’m dead, thank you,” she snapped. “I was, in fact, enjoying my peaceful heaven before it was stolen.”

  “What was stolen?” I pressed, desperate to get her to spill the beans so I could get back to class before anyone noticed I was gone.

  “A locket. The Lion’s Heart. It was a gift from my mother… before she died,” her face fell for just a moment. “But you see, the locket is cursed. Anyone who takes it will bring forth terrible destruction. Your entire city could be in danger as we speak!”

  I frowned, feeling a little skeptic because ghosts were one thing but curses? I wasn’t sure I really believed in all of that. Either way, if I could help her, then she’d go back to her own afterlife, whatever that was, and I could get back to repairing my already damaged reputation. No thanks to her.

  “Fine, okay, I’ll help you find it. But you have to let me finish my day, okay? I’ll call you when it’s safe to talk and you can tell me everything you know.”

  She glared at me, but finally gave me a curt nod and blinked out of existence. Letting out a sigh, I started back up the ramp, but right before I turned the corner, she appeared again, and a piece of paper fell from the sky. I grabbed it out of the air and unfolded it to read the fancy handwriting across the top.

  “What is this?” I asked, staring down at a name.

  Ainsworth.

  “It’s important,” was all she said, and then she was gone again.

  With a sigh, I crumpled up the paper and put it into my pocket. When I turned the corner, ready to dart back into class, I froze. Penelope was standing there starting at me, just a few feet away from where Elizabeth had dropped the paper into my hands. Her eyes were wide and staring.

  I gave a light, terrified laugh and realized by her expression she must have seen me talking to the ghost, and probably the paper falling out of the sky, too. “I um…”

  “Dude, explain. Now.”

  Chapter four

  Ghosts are Real

  Of course there wasn’t a lot I could say, and before I could even open my mouth, the side door leading to the boy’s locker room opened. Penelope and I ducked beside the vending machine and saw Mr. Fuller poking his head out. Both of us held our breath until he went back in, and without another word, we raced back into the girl’s locker room and back into the gym. We were both a little out of breath from almost getting caught out of class, and we huddled together as we walked across the gym floor.

  “Swear you’ll tell me what the heck I just saw,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth as we went back to our backpacks.

  My face was threatening to go bright red as I tried to figure out what she could have seen. No one had been able to see the ghosts before, not even the crazy palm reader woman my mom always had over for her “sessions
”. I doubted Penelope had actually seen Elizabeth’s form, but there was probably no way she’d missed the paper falling out of the sky. There wasn’t any real way I could lie. I’d have to tell her the truth, and she would either believe me, or join the ranks of the people who thought I was completely nuts.

  “Let’s talk after school, okay?” I whispered back, coming quickly to a decision. I would tell her, I had no choice.

  Penelope nodded and didn’t say anything more. We handed in our work and Mr. Fuller started asking different sports questions. He was distracted by some of the boys talking about football and stuff, which left Penelope and I sitting in a super awkward silence until the bell rang.

  We only had one more class left for the day. She had art, which was in the opposite direction of my orchestra class. We promised to meet at the bottom of the steps out front. I figured we could find a secluded spot away from the crowds, and I would tell her everything I could. My stomach was doing flip-flops at the thought of telling her my secret. Any time I had ever attempted to tell the truth, it had backfired and I was either called crazy, or I lost the few friends I had. I was scared now, but I knew Penelope wasn’t going to let it go. With a deep breath, I stepped into the orchestra hall, grabbed my violin case out of my instrument locker and settled into a chair.

  There weren’t a ton of students in this class. It was the advanced orchestra, and you had to tryout during the summer to be accepted. I was surprised I’d made it, because although I was good, I wasn’t great. Still, everyone around me seemed to be at my skill level and that was nice.

  I’d picked up violin the year before, and I seemed to have a natural talent for it, which surprised both my mom and dad. Neither one of them were particularly musical, and Amanda had avoided any extra-curricular activities like the plague. But I was good at it, and it was quickly becoming an obsession of mine. I would sometimes daydream about being a concert violinist, on stage in New York, people giving me a standing ovation and throwing flowers at my feet. Probably not something that would ever actually happen, but the violin was something I could get lost in. Something that was just mine, and I was good at it. It made me forget, just for a little while, about ghosts and mysteries and finding lost things.

  I was a little nervous as the teacher came in, not sure what she would be like, but her relaxed attitude quickly put me at ease. She was patient and welcoming, and I didn’t feel like everyone was staring at me. The class was a large mix of students from seventh and eighth grade, but no one seemed to care about anyone else’s business. No one looked at me like they’d heard the English class incident, and everyone was just as focused as I was on getting their notes right, and making sure they sounded good.

  We went through scales and she had us each play individually for her before handing out our weekly sheet music. We ran through a couple of the simple songs I’d been playing since last year, like Canon in D and Allegro, and by the time the bell rang, I’d almost forgotten about the dead queen and how Penelope was waiting to see me.

  Luckily my locker wasn’t far from the orchestra hall and I stopped by to drop off the things I didn’t need for homework. I was able to open it myself that time, and as I shoved a few of the books inside, I looked over and saw that English kid, Jack, again. He was staring at me with a weird expression I couldn’t read. Almost like he wanted to say something. When I stared back though, he turned, ripped his skateboard from the bottom of his backpack and jetted down the hall, weaving in and out of the crowd.

  It was weird, and I contemplated chasing him down for a second to see what he wanted, but decided against it. I didn’t exactly know him, so what was I going to say, “Hey you were staring at me, what do you want,” wouldn’t exactly earn me any cool points in anyone’s eyes. Besides, Penelope was waiting for me, and I had to tell her everything. Not that it was something I wanted to do, but I had to get it over with.

  With a sigh, I slammed my locker and slowly made my way through the crowd, towards the front. I saw Misty standing near the doors with a couple of boys, but I ignored her little smirk as I pushed by her and went outside.

  It was pretty warm, with the sun shining directly on the front of the school, but Penelope was waiting for me in a shady spot near the building. I walked up, my brain spinning in a thousand different directions, as I tried to think of how to explain everything. Just blurting out, “I talk to ghosts,” sounded really lame, and probably wouldn’t get her to actually believe me. Still, there wasn’t a clearer way to say it, and nothing I could think of made me sound any more sane.

  “Hey,” is what I came up with first.

  She nodded and pulled me by my sleeve a little further away from the crowd. “Dude, so tell me what happened in the hall,” she insisted.

  My cheeks went pink and I started fumbling with my words. “Look, I’m not entirely sure what you saw in the hall earlier. I just…”

  “You were talking to yourself,” she interrupted. “Like having a full on conversation. Then a piece of paper appeared in the air out of freaking nowhere and you grabbed it. I know it wasn’t my imagination, so what the heck happened?”

  Licking my lips nervously, I looked around and then lowered my voice. I’d never told anyone my secret like this. Ever. Sometimes bits of it had snuck out, and even without the full story, people thought I was nuts. But… Penelope seemed different. She wasn’t like everyone else, and honestly, I wanted to tell her. I realized right then I wanted to tell someone. Someone who would get it and not treat me like a total freak.

  I was totally terrified but I opened my mouth and blurted out, “I see ghosts.”

  Penelope stared at me for a long time. Slowly, one eyebrow rose and she said, “You’re kidding, right?”

  I let out a breath. She wasn’t laughing, which was good, but she didn’t quite believe me, either. I gathered all the mental strength I had and decided to just… go for it. “No,” I replied. “I’m not, and I know it sounds crazy, but I can. These… these ghosts, or whatever, they find me and they ask me to uh… find things.” I realized how stupid it sounded as I was saying it, but I didn’t know how to make it sound better.

  “Find what things?” she asked.

  I shrugged helplessly and rolled my eyes upwards. “Stuff. Like missing stuff. Sometimes maps or pieces of jewelry or clothes.” I fidgeted a little, waiting for her reaction as she stared at me, processing what I was saying. “Stuff that was stolen.”

  “So… so ghosts are real?” she asked slowly.

  I nodded, not sure if she was getting ready to make fun of me, or if she actually believed me. I took a step back away from her, ready to run if she started openly teasing me in front of the whole school. It was now or never, and she was either a friend for life, or I would just be another freak to the masses, totally alone and friendless.

  “I knew it,” she whispered. “I always knew ghosts were real. Whenever things at my house get loud, like if my mom and I are fighting, I totally hear footsteps banging on the roof… and we have a one story house! I keep telling my mom but she never listens!”

  It took me a minute to realize she believed me, but when I did, the sense of relief I felt was so intense I kind of wanted to puke. Instead, I let out a heavy breath and grinned. “So you don’t think I’m nuts?”

  “Obviously you’re nuts,” she said seriously. “I don’t think any random twerp like Misty could see ghosts, but it makes sense why you were standing in the hallway talking to thin air.” She paused and then said, “Okay so like… how does it work?”

  I frowned. “How does it work?”

  “The seeing ghosts thing? I mean, what do they want? What do they look like? Who was it in the hallway today?”

  Her barrage of questions startled me. The only thing I’d even prepared for was her laughing at me, so I hadn’t thought how I was going to explain it to someone who actually believed me. I shuffled my feet a little and shrugged. “Well um, they sort of, you know, show up. Like at all hours of the day or night, whether I’m
in class or the shower. They like just start talking and talking, and they don’t stop until I promise to help them find whatever it is they’re missing.”

  “Do they look like people, or like…” she shrugged and hunched her shoulders, making her hands claw out toward me, “…like creepy, horror movie dead guys?”

  I had to laugh and shook my head. “No, not creepy. Mostly they look like regular people. They seem pretty solid to me, except they can walk through stuff.”

  Penelope’s eyes were bright and excited as she drank in everything I was saying. “So cool. This is so cool. So who is visiting you now?”

  I swallowed and looked around again, to be doubly sure no one was standing around listening. “Queen Elizabeth the First.”

  Penelope’s eyes went super wide and she gasped, “You’re kidding. Like the Queen Elizabeth?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. She’s missing a locket or something. She says it’s cursed, but ghosts or not, curses are totally not real.”

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow at me and crossed her arms over her chest. “You really don’t believe in curses? The girl who sees ghosts?”

  My face heated up a little and I shrugged. “Trust me, okay. They’re not.”

  She gave in, but didn’t look totally convinced. “Okay well, what now?”

  “Now, I have to do some research, find out when the locket went missing, who was nearby when it disappeared, all that jazz. Luckily I have google and if the locket is as famous as her, there will probably be some news article or something about it.” Our conversation was cut short abruptly when I glanced over and saw my mom’s SUV pulling up. “Hey, my mom’s here, I gotta go.”

  “Phone!” Penelope demanded. “Give me your phone!”

  I did, totally confused until I saw her punching her phone number into it. “You have to call me later, okay? Tell me everything the Queen says.”

  I grinned, feeling like I could almost fly, and I rushed off, waving at her as I jumped into the front seat and slammed the door. My mom was staring at me with a small smile as we drove away, and I rolled my eyes at her.