Ari Pappas sat in the wheelbarrow and rubbed both elbows. Then he rubbed his knee. Then he got on his knees and rubbed his bottom before he began to look around for his notebook. He had just been getting his notebook out of his fanny pack to take some notes about the interesting things the bald-headed girl had said, when his foot slipped and he shot down the chute.
After Ari found his notebook he climbed back up to the loft and made his way over to the farthest hay chute, where he had built his secret observation post. He needed to check to see if his footholds were still all right. The footholds, strips of wood that he’d nailed to the inside of the chute, were still there. His feet had just slipped. That was a relief. He’d had a painful feeling that he might have whacked and clawed some of them loose on his way down the chute. He really needed them to be there because he felt certain he’d be using them again before long. Like, for instance, the next time Kate and Aurora came to look for the ghosts that Bettina had just told them about.
From his hiding place in the hay chute, Ari had heard every word Bettina had said and he certainly intended to be back again the next time Kate and Aurora visited the barn. Like maybe on Halloween night.
Still thinking about Halloween, Ari climbed down from the loft and made his way, limping a little on the leg with the banged-up knee, to the barn door. And then on out into the open air.
As he closed the door behind him he breathed deeply—almost a sigh of relief. Even though he had never worried much about ghosts it was a relief, after listening to that Bettina character, to take a deep breath of normal, unhaunted air. After taking two or three deep normal breaths, he headed toward home.
He jogged until he was out of the forest, his fanny pack bouncing comfortingly behind him. But once out into the open he got down and crawled. Crawling along below the vine-covered fence that separated the Andersons’ yard from the Prince Field baseball diamond, he stopped once or twice to peek over and check on the ball game.
The guys who called themselves the PROs, Bucky and Carlos and Eddy, were all playing as usual, along with a couple of Anderson grandkids and a sixth-grade guy who lived down on Beaumont Avenue. Ari watched Eddy hit a home run before he crawled on. When he came to the Andersons’ front yard he got up, darted between bushes, squeezed through a hole in the hedge, and then strolled innocently down the sidewalk. He was still strolling when he passed the Wongs’ house, and stopped to see what on earth Web Wong was doing in his front yard with a gas tank and a big black balloon.
Chapter 5
“HI, WEB,” ARI SAID, but Web was so wrapped up in whatever he was doing he didn’t even hear. Webster Wong, who, as everybody knew, was a genius, was always doing some kind of scientific experiment. Web and Ari were in the same third-grade class at Beaumont School but they usually didn’t talk to each other much. Not that they didn’t like each other. It was more like they didn’t speak the same language.
The thing was, Web usually spoke in what Ari thought of as “scientish.” You’d say hi to Web and he’d say something like “Did you know that divergent plate boundaries aren’t nearly as hazardous as convergent?” That time Web had been talking about earthquakes, but this looked like something different. At least, just offhand, Ari didn’t see how you could study earthquakes with a balloon. But maybe you did. With Web you never knew. Ari stopped for a minute to watch.
Web hooked the big black balloon up to the tank and turned a switch. There was a whooshing sound and the balloon started to swell and float up off the ground.
“Hi,” Ari said, more loudly this time. “More earthquake stuff?”
Web looked up, surprised, as if he hadn’t even noticed Ari before. “Oh hi,” he said. “No. I finished learning about earthquakes. I’m studying the atmosphere now.”
“The atmosphere? So what’s the balloon for?”
“Well, see, this is a weather balloon and—”
“And what’s that? In the tank?”
“In the tank? Oh, that’s helium. Helium’s very interesting. It has the lowest melting point of any element and about ninety-three percent of the lifting power of hydrogen.”
Ari grinned. “What do you know!” he said. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?”
“Right. See, my dad got me this weather balloon and now I’m saving to buy a radiosonde …” He looked at Ari questioningly. Ari shook his head. “Well, a radiosonde,” Web went on, “is this radio transmitter that you send up into the atmosphere with a balloon and it sends back all kinds of information about—Oops! Look out! Help! Help! Turn off the switch, Ari. Turn it off.” The big black balloon was pulling Web off his feet.
Fortunately it didn’t take a very scientific mind to figure out where the switch on the helium tank was. Ari pushed it as hard as he could and then turned around in time to grab hold of Web’s legs as he went by.
A minute later, when they had Web back on the ground and the weather balloon safely anchored to the porch railing, Web thanked Ari for his help. “It sure is a good thing you came along,” he said. “My dad told me to tie it down first, but I forgot.” He looked at Ari. “Hey. You want to help with my atmospheric study? I think I really need somebody to …” He motioned, more or less toward the balloon. “Just in case,” he added.
“Yeah,” Ari said, “I see what you mean.” For a moment he seriously considered saying yes. The problem was, he could study the atmosphere—or he could go on investigating the Anderson ghosts. There probably wouldn’t be time for both. It didn’t take him long to decide. Writing scientific stuff might be interesting, but ghost stories seemed to be more his kind of thing. And what was more, ghost stories were easier to spell. “Well,” he said, “I’m pretty busy right now. Why don’t you ask Eddy?” (Eddy was Web’s fifth-grade brother.)
Web hesitated and then shook his head. “No. Eddy’s too busy making home runs. He’s got fifty-three home runs already. That’s more than Bucky, even.”
“Fifty-four,” Ari said. “I just saw number fifty-four. And I already heard about him being ahead of Bucky.” Everybody at Castle Court had heard about it. Beating Bucky Brockhurst at anything was really big news at Castle Court. So Web was probably right about Eddy being too busy to study the atmosphere. Ari thought for a moment before he asked, “How about Carson? I’ll bet Carson would like to help out.”
Web nodded thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said. “I guess I’ll ask Carson.”
Chapter 6
AS SOON AS BETTINA left the old barn she started to walk very fast. Kate and Aurora had a hard time keeping up. Having to almost run made asking questions kind of difficult—and getting answers was even harder. At least it was hard to get answers to the particular questions you happened to ask.
When Kate asked how many people had seen the ghosts, Bettina said, “I don’t want to go home today. And I wouldn’t have to if I didn’t have such geeky parents. It’s all their fault.”
And when Aurora asked her if she had ever seen the Addie ghost herself, she said only, “It’s my father’s fault, mostly. He’s the one who hates the Andersons. I’d get to come to California a lot more if it weren’t for him.”
Kate and Aurora raised their eyebrows at each other. Even though Bettina answered only questions nobody had actually asked, her answers were pretty interesting. For one thing, it was the first time they’d ever heard about anybody hating the Andersons. Most of the people at Castle Court thought the Andersons were great.
When they were almost to the house Bettina yelled good-bye and started running. Kate and Aurora gave up then and went home. The next day Kate called Aurora as soon as she got home from school.
“Hey,” she said when Aurora answered the phone. “Can you go? Can you go to the barn right now?”
At school that day she and Aurora had decided to go back to the barn at least once before Halloween to see if it seemed different—now that they knew about Addie and the bandit boyfriend. They’d even decided to go back that same afternoon if they could. But when Aurora came to the phone she said she c
ouldn’t go unless they went right away.
“Nick and Diane are going out tonight,” she said. (The Pappas kids always called their parents by their first names.) “They’re leaving about five-thirty and I have to be home then to baby-sit Athena. I can go if we can get back before five-thirty.”
That was a problem because Kate’s mother wasn’t going to be home until after five, and Kate had promised to keep an eye on Carson until then.
“Can’t Carson look out for himself for a little while?” Aurora asked.
“Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Kate said bitterly. “I mean, he’s almost eight years old. But you know Carson. He’s weird. The last time he got left home alone Slinky got loose and almost ate Fifi.”
“How about Tiffany, then? Couldn’t she watch Carson for once?”
“No,” Kate said. “Tiffany’s not home either. In fact, that’s where Mom is. She had to take old Tiffany to a stupid baton-twirling competition.”
“Well,” Aurora said, “why don’t we just take Carson with us, then?”
“To the haunted barn?” Kate was amazed.
“Why not?” Aurora said. “He wouldn’t tell anyone, would he?”
“Hey,” Kate said after she’d thought it over for a minute. “You’re right. He probably wouldn’t.” That was one thing you could say for Carson, all right. He was certainly no blabbermouth. In fact, Carson rarely talked at all, except about bugs and snakes. “Yeah,” Kate said, “I guess we can just take old Carson along with us.”
But right at first Carson didn’t want to go.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because,” Kate said. “Because Aurora and I want to go to the barn and Mom said I have to keep an eye on you.”
“Why do you want to?”
“Why do we want to go there?” Kate didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Carson too much about the ghosts. “Just because we do. We like it there.”
Carson frowned, which made his glasses slide down his pug nose. He pushed them up and said, “Why do I want to go?”
“Well.” Kate thought for a moment—and came up with a bright idea. “There are a lot of bugs and stuff there. Stuff like flies and termites and spiders. Lots of spiders.” She could see she was getting Carson’s attention so she went on. “And pigeons and bats and mice and—”
“Bats?” Carson asked.
“Sure. You can see them hanging down from the rafters at one end of the loft. I guess they fly away at night but during the day they’re usually just hanging around upside down.”
Carson nodded slowly and headed for his room. A minute later he came back wearing his jacket and carrying his biggest bug-collecting jar.
“Let’s go,” he said.
When they got to the barn that afternoon Kate took Carson all around and showed him all the stuff he’d be interested in. She took him through the stable area and showed him all the spiderwebs and sow bugs and termites. Then she and Aurora took him up the ladder to the loft and showed him the pigeons and bats up on the rafters and the mouse holes in the bales of straw. Then, after she’d pointed out the hay chutes and warned him not to fall down them, they left him in the loft while they went back down into the stables.
As always the stable was dark and quiet. Kate and Aurora walked up and down the two long aisles between the rows of stalls, peering over the stall doors and into all the storage rooms. Nothing moved in the dark shadows and, at first, Kate didn’t hear a sound except a few bumping noises from up in the loft, where Carson was probably prowling around looking for something to put in his collecting jar.
After Kate and Aurora had been up and down both aisles for the second time, Aurora led the way back to the big stall by the ladder.
“Let’s go inside,” she said.
“You mean right inside that stall?” Kate asked uneasily. “Right there where—where it happened?”
“Where what happened?” Aurora asked.
“You know. Where they—died. Like Bettina told us.”
“Oh that,” Aurora said. She lifted the latch and led the way into the stall.
“Well, okay,” Kate whispered. “If you can, I can.” She wasn’t going to let Aurora go into a haunted place all by herself. Biting her lip and getting her karate chop ready, she inched her way into the stall.
It seemed even darker inside the stall. Darker and chillier, as if a cold breath were oozing up out of the ground. Standing just inside the gate, Kate stared down at the dirty straw that covered the floor, then all around at the bare wooden walls. Bare, except for a rusty bucket hanging below a water spigot, and the remains of a gnawed and splintered manger. There was something about the place that was making her feel more and more uneasy. The stillness, perhaps. A quiet that was heavy and deep and endless. Except for … except for the voices.
“Aurora,” Kate gasped. She grabbed Aurora’s arm and shook her. “I hear them. I hear Addie and the bandit.”
Chapter 7
AURORA HAD BEEN STANDING perfectly still, her face dreamy and distant, but when Kate grabbed her arm she quickly came back to earth.
“Don’t you hear them?” Kate was saying. “Voices. Two voices.”
Pushing her hair away from her ears with both hands, Aurora tipped her head to one side and listened. After a moment she smiled and nodded. “Carson,” she said. “It’s just Carson.”
“But it can’t be just Carson. I heard two different voices. I know I did.”
Aurora shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Let’s go see.”
The moment Kate got to the top of the ladder Carson came running toward her across the floor of the loft. His big round eyes, behind his thick glasses, were stretched wide with excitement.
Kate grabbed him. “What is it?” she demanded. “What did you see?”
“Bats,” Carson said. “Lots of bats. I want one. I want a bat for my collection.”
Kate snorted. That was Carson for you. Just plain weird. Here he was right in the middle of a ghostly conversation and all he could think about was adding to his disgusting collection.
“But the voices?” Kate said. “We heard voices. We heard people talking.”
Carson seemed to freeze. He stared at Kate, and behind his thick glasses his round eyes went as flat and blank as two fried eggs. Blue fried eggs. “That was me,” he said in a high, squeaky voice. “That was just me.”
“But we heard two different voices,” Aurora said. “Who were you talking to?”
Carson blinked his fried-egg eyes solemnly. “The bats?” he said finally, making it sound like a question. “I was talking to the bats?”
Kate knew what the question was. The question was “Are they going to fall for this one?” She sighed. “That does it,” she said. “I should have known better than to bring this little creep along.” She grabbed Carson’s arm and pulled him toward the ladder.
“He’s ruined everything,” Kate told Aurora a few minutes later as they pushed the heavy barn door shut behind them. “We’ll just have to forget it and go on home. For now at least.”
“Yes,” Aurora said. “There’s no use staying any longer right now. Too many people around. Next time we come we’ll have to be more careful to come alone.”
Kate stared at Aurora in surprise. “Well, it was your idea,” she said. “I mean, who said it would be all right to bring this little dweeb? You did, didn’t you?”
Aurora nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I said to bring Carson.” She smiled at Kate. “Just Carson. I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”
“What do you mean—” Kate started to ask, but just at that moment they reached the edge of the pine grove. And, of course, a ball game was going on across the fence in Prince Field.
“Shh,” Aurora said. “Get down. Don’t let them see us.” By the time they’d crept along beside the fence and then dodged from bush to bush and finally climbed out through the hedge, Kate had forgotten what she’d been about to ask.
A few minutes later Cars
on suddenly jerked his arm out of Kate’s grip and stopped walking. They were in front of the Wongs’ house at the time, on their way around the cul-de-sac.
“Come on, Carson,” Kate said, grabbing at him. “We have to get home.”
Carson dodged away, shaking his head. “No. I want to see Web. I have to see Web first.”
“Web? What for?” Kate asked. Web and Carson visited each other’s collections from time to time but they weren’t exactly friends.
“He wants to see me,” Carson said.
Kate laughed. “What makes you think Web wants to see you?”
Carson’s frown wrinkled his forehead and twitched his pug nose. “He does,” he said. “Somebody told me.”
Kate looked at her watch. “Well, all right. Just for a few minutes, though. I’ll wait for you at Aurora’s on the front lawn. You better hurry. We have to get back before Mom gets home.”
While they were waiting for Carson, Kate and Aurora talked about Addie and the bandit boyfriend and about how Bettina had said that the two ghosts came to the barn only on Halloween. That was a problem. It was going to take some careful planning to be there at the barn when the ghosts showed up.
“It’s not going to be easy,” Aurora said. “You heard what we’re all supposed to do on Halloween, didn’t you?”
Kate shrugged angrily. “I know. Wouldn’t you know our parents would have to mess everything up.”
What the Castle Court parents had done was to get together and plan a nice, safe, boring Halloween for all the kids who lived in the court. They’d decided to have all the kids go around trick-or-treating together. All of them. Teenagers too. And the teenagers were going to be in charge. Supposedly to see that nobody got kidnapped or poisoned, or any of the things parents worried about these days. And after they were finished trick-or-treating they were to come back and have a party at the Garcias’. And it actually seemed as if the teenagers were all for it. At least Kate’s sister, Tiffany, certainly was.
Ghost Invasion Page 2
