Ghosts of Rathburn Park

by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  “I don’t care.” Clenching a fist, she shook it threateningly. “But it better not be Dolly.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He was grinning now. “I guess I’ll just go on calling you Amelia. Okay? At least when no one else is around.”

  She stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before she unclenched her fist and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, you can do that. That’s okay.”

  “But how about when school starts? What will I call you at school?”

  Amelia laughed. “Well, don’t worry about that. I don’t go to school in Timber City. I never have. I go to school in Seattle.”

  “In Seattle. How can you live here and go to school in Seattle?”

  She shrugged. “It’s easy. I only live here in the summer. See, my mother works for a ship company and most of the year she works in Seattle. And we live right downtown in an apartment building. But in the summer she works on ships that go back and forth to Alaska and I can’t go with her. So I get sent here for three months to stay with my grandmother. I do it every year. This was my fourth summer in the Palace.”

  “Wow!” Matt said. “Lucky you.” Turning to look toward the Palace, he narrowed his eyes, picturing what it would be like to actually live in a huge, old, historic place like—

  “Yeah, sure.” Amelia broke into his daydream. “But it would be more fun if the rest of them weren’t such a bunch of grouches. And if they, if any of them, liked having me around.” Suddenly her voice was shaky and her eyes blinked rapidly.

  Not knowing what else to say, Matt could only think to ask, “The rest of them? At the Palace, you mean?”

  She swallowed hard and then shrugged. “Yeah, my granny and old Miss Rathburn and Ernie and Irma.”

  “Irma?”

  “She’s the cook. Ernie’s her husband. None of them like having me around.” She laughed in a sarcastic way. “Oh well, I’m used to it. My mom feels the same way. She likes getting rid of me every summer. She liked me when I was her cute little Dolly, but now…” She stopped and turned her face away.

  Matt was thinking that he understood. He knew what it was like to feel kind of in everybody’s way. Suddenly he thought of something that might help take her mind off her problems.

  “Hey.” He dug into his jacket pocket and held out the locket and key on the golden chain. “Look what I found. It’s yours, isn’t it?”

  For a long moment she stared at what Matt was holding before she slowly reached out and took it. And then for another long moment she stared at what was in her hand—before she sank down into a crouching position. With her head bent low, she began to cry. Real heartbroken, shuddering, gasping sobs. And standing over her, Matt wondered what he had done—and what he could do now.

  “Hey,” he said finally. “Don’t do that. I just thought you’d like to have it back. I found it on the path.”

  The crying went on for a while and then gradually began to lessen. At last Amelia raised her teary face, stared at Matt and asked, “The key? Do you know what the key is for?”

  Reluctantly, Matt nodded.

  “And what was in it? You know what I keep in the trunk?”

  Matt nodded again. “Well, yeah. I guess I do.”

  She cried again, even harder.

  “Look,” Matt said. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anybody.”

  The sobs grew softer and finally she lifted her head and sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you don’t tell, it’s all over. I won’t be able to do it again. Not with somebody knowing. Even if it’s only—” Her smile was still painful, but a little bit teasing, too. “If it’s only you.”

  “Do what again? You won’t be able to do what?”

  Her sigh was sad and resigned. “Be Amelia. It won’t work now that someone knows. It’s all over.”

  “Why won’t it work?” Matt said. “Tell me about it. About being Amelia.”

  She shook her head.

  Matt took a deep breath. “It won’t matter that I know. Look. I’ll tell you about…” He grinned. “About being Robin Hood. And Alexander the Great. And Napoleon.” He shoved his hand under one side of his jacket and put on a stern, dignified expression. “I’ve done it all my life. And sometimes I dress up too. I used to have a great Napoleon outfit until my brother used it for grease rags.”

  She giggled weakly, shook her head, nodded, sighed and began to talk. “See, there’s this beautiful painting of one of the Amelias in the library. The one who died in 1877. And then, in the attic, I found out all about her. She died when she was only sixteen and her parents put all her stuff away in the attic. All her clothing and her diaries and like that. And I started reading the diaries and then…” She paused, sighed and went on. “And then I started being Amelia. Every summer I take some of her clothing to Old Tom’s cabin and I go there to put it on. And then I’m Amelia most of the summer.”

  Matt nodded, grinning. “You’re Amelia—and you must be the ghost of Rathburn Park, too. Did you know that ghost stories have been going around about the park and the graveyard? Like maybe people saw you and thought you were a ghost?”

  Amelia looked sneakily pleased. “Yeah. I thought so. I mean there were a couple of times when I had to run to get away. Once they probably would have caught me, but I ran across the swamp and got away. And there was one time when some little boys were trying to steal a tombstone and I scared them half to death.”

  Matt laughed and after a moment Amelia did too. But then he remembered something. “Hey,” he said, “I stopped at the cabin today….” He grinned guiltily. “And I went in.” He paused, watching her warily. “You know, just to find a place to leave the locket, and the trunk was…”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it was empty.”

  “But how did you do it? Without the key?”

  “There’s another key,” she said.

  “Oh sure,” Matt said. “But why? Why did you take everything out?”

  “Because I’m leaving,” she said. “My mother is coming for me tomorrow. I’m going back to Seattle.”

  Matt stared at her, feeling… Well, not feeling good. Stared and went on staring. “What?” she said finally. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know. I just wish… I wish you weren’t going.”

  After a while she nodded and said, “Yeah. I wish it too.” She nodded again. “We could write to each other. I know your address. I looked it up. And next summer I’ll be back.”

  “Sure,” Matt said. “Next summer you can be Amelia again and…”

  She giggled. “And you can be Robin Hood.” Her giggle turned into a sigh. “I have to go now.” She was halfway down the path when she stopped and turned back.

  “What is it?” Matt asked. “What are you looking for?”

  Amelia’s eyes narrowed for a second and then opened extra wide. “For Rover. Didn’t you see him? Just before I got here?”

  Matt shook his head.

  “Well, he came in here,” she said. “How do you think I found you?” She turned and then started running and Matt didn’t try to follow.

  Twenty-seven

  MATT DIDN’T REALLY BELIEVE that Amelia had seen Rover that day in the park. He did look around some—in the park and on his way home, too, but the only dog he saw was an unfriendly German shepherd.

  During the next week, the last one before school started, he thought about Rover a lot, and he even managed two short trips to the park and to Old Tom’s cabin. But he didn’t see, or hear, anything the least bit extraordinary. The trunk was still empty and the dog bone was still in the same spot under the cot.

  Then on Sunday evening after he’d gone to bed he was sure he heard a dog barking, a deep distant sound that definitely wasn’t Dusty. He jumped up and ran to the window but nothing was moving on the lawn or at the edge of the forest. After a while a flock of geese flew over and there were some honking sounds that might have been what he’d heard—but maybe not.

  But once school started there was so much other stuff to think about.
The kid named Brett was in two of Matt’s classes and he was still friendly, and some of the teachers were pretty okay. Like for instance a gym teacher who didn’t let kids choose up teams and embarrass the ones who were natural-born klutzes by not choosing them till last.

  At home Courtney was in one of the longest-lasting good moods Matt could remember. She liked being in high school and every day after school she was busy taking care of Dusty, when she wasn’t going places with people Brittany had introduced her to. Particularly with Brittany’s cousin, Brad, who was fifteen and, according to Courtney, big-time gorgeous. And as for Justin, he was still being more like the big brother he used to be before he got to be such a hotshot teenager. Mom and Dad were as busy as usual. Matt was feeling okay. Nothing special, but okay.

  September was almost over when Matt checked the mail and found a letter from Seattle addressed to Matt Hamilton. The name in the return address corner was a big scribbled capital letter that could have been almost anything but certainly looked more like an A than a D. Just the A, or perhaps D and then the last name—Davis. He stuck the envelope inside his shirt and went to his room.

  Sure enough, the letter was from Amelia and she said she was in Seattle but that she was definitely going to be back at the Palace for a short visit at Christmas and, of course, all next summer.

  “So I’ll see you then,” she wrote, “and we can both look out for Rover. I have a feeling we’re going to see a lot of him.”

  Matt was still lying on his bed a little later, not writing yet but thinking about what he would say in his letter to Amelia. It was still in the planning stage when there was a knock on his door and Courtney came in. She was wearing a sharp-looking new outfit and a lot more makeup than usual, and she was carrying Dusty under one arm and his dog bed under the other.

  “Look,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d baby-sit my poor doggy for a while tonight.” She dropped the dog bed in the corner of the room and put Dusty in it.

  Matt sat up and looked at the about-to-be-deserted puppy. Dusty wasn’t looking very happy. His ears were droopy and he seemed to be shivering.

  “Is something wrong with him?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Courtney said. She squatted down in front of the dog bed for a minute and then stood up and looked at Matt. “He’s all right. It’s just that I’ve been gone quite a bit lately and…”

  “Yeah, that’s for sure,” Matt said. “Enter Big-Time-Gorgeous Brad—exit puppy.”

  Courtney sighed. “You sound just like Mom.” Then she blew a kiss and went out the door.

  Matt went on lying on his bed with his chin on his hands, looking at Dusty. And the little dog went on shivering and looking sad.

  “Too bad,” Matt told the puppy. “Too bad you didn’t come along a little sooner. Like pre-Brad.”

  He grinned but the puppy didn’t grin back. After a while Matt sat up and patted the bed beside where he was sitting. “All right, Dusty,” he said. “Come on up here.”

  The dog stayed where he was. “Dusty,” Matt called. “Come on, Dusty.” Nothing happened.

  “Wow,” Matt said, “stay there then.” Going to his desk, he got a pen and a notebook and switched off the overhead light. Then he got back on the bed, turned on his reading lamp, and started to answer Amelia’s letter. But after Dear Amelia he couldn’t decide what to say next. He hadn’t gotten any farther when the puppy started to whine.

  Matt looked up, and then looked again. The little dog was sitting up now and in the dimmer light his fur looked different, softer and cloudy gray.

  Matt stared for a moment before he whispered, “Rover? Hey, Rover.”

  The puppy sat up, cocking his head and lolling his tongue. He looked, Matt thought, like someone who’d just told a joke or played a trick on somebody. Then he trotted across the room, jumped up on the bed, turned around several times and settled down with his chin on Matt’s ankle. Matt grinned at him and he grinned back.

  “So,” Matt said, “what are you telling me? That you’re some kind of Rover clone or relative? Or maybe that some people are sure to get a Rover when they really need one? Maybe that’s it, or else…” He shrugged. “Or else the whole thing is just my crazy imagination again. Which is it?”

  Rover wagged his tail, but he wasn’t talking. Matt picked up his pen. “Wait till I tell Amelia,” he said. “Till I tell her she was right. We’re going to be seeing a lot of Rover next summer.”

  A Biography of Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  Zilpha Keatley Snyder (b. 1927) is the three-time Newbery Honor–winning author of classic children’s novels such as The Egypt Game, The Headless Cupid, and The Witches of Worm. Her adventure and fantasy stories are beloved by many generations.

  Snyder was born in Lemoore, California, in 1927. Her father, William Keatley, worked for Shell Oil, but as a would-be rancher he and his family always lived on a small farm. Snyder’s parents were both storytellers, and their tales often kept their children entertained during quiet evenings at home.

  Snyder began reading and telling stories of her own at an early age. By the time she was four years old she was able to read novels and newspapers intended for adults. When she wasn’t reading, she was making up and embellishing stories. When she was eight, Snyder decided that she would be a writer—a profession in which embellishment and imagination were accepted and rewarded.

  Snyder’s adolescent years were made more difficult by her studious country upbringing and by the fact that she had been advanced a grade when she started school. As other girls were going to dances and discovering boys, Snyder retreated into books. The stories transported her from her small room to a larger, remarkable universe.

  At Whittier College, Zilpha Keatley Snyder met her future husband, Larry Snyder. After graduation, she began teaching upper-level elementary classes. Snyder taught for nine years, including three years as a master teacher for the University of California, Berkeley. The classroom experience gave Snyder a fresh appreciation of the interests and capabilities of preteens.

  As she continued her teaching career, Snyder gained more free time. She began writing at night, after teaching during the day; her husband helped by typing out her manuscripts. After finishing her first novel, she sent it to a publisher. It was accepted on her first try. That book, Season of Ponies, was published in 1964.

  In 1967, her fourth novel, The Egypt Game, won the Newbery Honor for excellence in children’s literature. Snyder went on to win that honor two more times, for her novels The Headless Cupid and The Witches of Worm. The Headless Cupid introduced the Stanley family, a clan she revisited three more times over her career.

  Snyder’s The Changeling (1970), in which two young girls invent a fantasy world dominated by trees, became the inspiration for her 1974 fantasy series, the Green Sky Trilogy. Snyder completed that series by writing a computer game sequel called Below the Root. The game went on to earn cult classic status.

  Over the almost fifty years of her career, Snyder has written about topics as diverse as time-traveling ghosts, serenading gargoyles, and adoption at the turn of the twentieth century. Today, she lives with her husband in Mill Valley, California. When not writing, Snyder enjoys reading and traveling.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2002 by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  Cover design by Barbara Brown

  978-1-4804-7152-8

  This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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