The Red Ghost

by Marion Dane Bauer

  To Taylor and Katrina—M.D.B.

  To Hannah and Robert,

  who know what’s hiding in the closet—P.F.

  Contents

  1. A Birthday Present for Quinn

  2. Ftt-t-t-t-t!

  3. “Did You Hear That?”

  4. From the Closet

  5. “Already Full”

  6. “The Answer Is No”

  7. A Solution

  8. Gone!

  9. Hazel

  1

  A Birthday Present

  for Quinn

  The doll wore red velvet. Her dress was made of red velvet and her bonnet was, too. Both were trimmed in white lace, but the white lace only made the velvet seem more red.

  Jenna had found the doll on a table at Miss Tate’s garage sale. Dishes, stacks of old magazines, candles, even a couple of mousetraps lay around her. All of it was junk, really. Except for the doll.

  Jenna couldn’t take her eyes off the doll.

  “Look,” she said to her friend Dallas. “Isn’t she pretty?” She pointed but didn’t touch.

  “Wow! That thing looks really old!” Dallas grabbed the doll off the table. She held it out at arm’s length.

  That was just like Dallas. The doll did look old … and fragile. Jenna hadn’t dared pick it up. What if Miss Tate objected? But Dallas didn’t worry about those things. She just did them and then seemed surprised when she got into trouble.

  Jenna moved closer to inspect the doll. She had painted-on hair, round cheeks, dimples in the backs of her chubby hands. She had real eyelashes, too.

  “Are you still into dolls?” Dallas asked. Anyone would know at a glance that Dallas wasn’t “into dolls.” She wore her usual summer outfit—ragged cutoffs and a baseball cap turned backward on her head.

  Jenna made a face at Dallas’s question. Dallas knew better. Jenna had played with dolls when she was little, but she was going into the fourth grade now. “It’s Quinn’s birthday next week,” she said. “And you know how she loves dolls.”

  Quinn was Jenna’s little sister, and Jenna hadn’t found a birthday present for her yet. The truth was she hadn’t saved enough of her allowance to buy much of anything.

  “I wonder how much Miss Tate wants for it,” Dallas said.

  Jenna shrugged. “Too much probably. She looks valuable.”

  “It looks old,” Dallas corrected.

  “Well, old things can be valuable. When they get really old, they’re called antiques,” Jenna said.

  “I’m not an antique!”

  Jenna jumped.

  Miss Tate had come up behind them. “But you’re right,” she said. “That doll is old. It used to belong to my little sister, so it’s almost as old as I am. But that doesn’t make it an antique, either.”

  Jenna didn’t know what to say. As usual, though, Dallas did. “How much do you want for it?” she asked. “Jenna wants to buy it for Quinn.”

  Is that what I want? Jenna wondered. And even if it was, what made Dallas think she could afford it?

  Miss Tate was tall and very skinny, kind of like a pole with a puff of white hair on top. She crossed her arms over her flat front and frowned at the doll.

  “For her birthday,” Jenna told her. “Next week she’ll be five.”

  “Five years old? That little tyke?” Miss Tate’s face rumpled into a smile. “Well, in that case, you can have it for Quinn. No charge.”

  “Really?” Jenna couldn’t believe her luck. She had found a birthday present for Quinn. And it wasn’t going to cost her a cent!

  Miss Tate gave an emphatic nod. “I should have gotten rid of that doll a long time ago,” she said. “I never did like it.”

  Jenna wondered how anyone could not like such a pretty doll. Still, she wasn’t going to argue. She said only, “Thank you, Miss Tate!” She took the doll from Dallas and gave it a squeeze. The head and arms and legs were hard, but the body was soft and huggable.

  “Don’t thank me,” Miss Tate said. “It was my mama who insisted on keeping the thing.” And she turned abruptly and became very busy straightening a stack of National Geographics.

  “Thank you so much,” Jenna repeated anyway.

  And Dallas added, “Quinn is going to love—”

  But Miss Tate interrupted. “Run along now, girls.” She picked up the stack of magazines and carried them to another table. She spoke without looking back. “And take that silly doll with you. It’s high time it was out of my attic.”

  Jenna and Dallas looked at each other and shrugged. Who knew why their neighbor was suddenly so cross? Sometimes it was hard to figure grown-ups.

  “Let’s go to my house first,” Dallas said. “We’ll gift-wrap the doll before you take it home. Then Quinn won’t see it and spoil the surprise.”

  Jenna gave the red-velvet doll another squeeze and followed Dallas across the street. Wasn’t this lucky? A birthday present for her little sister. An absolutely free birthday present.

  And Quinn was sure to love it!

  2

  Ftt-t-t-t-t!

  Jenna and Dallas couldn’t find gift wrap at Dallas’s house. The best they could do were the comics from last Sunday’s paper. But the comics were colorful, and Quinn wouldn’t care. She was a package ripper, anyway. She never stopped to admire the wrapping, no matter how pretty it was.

  Dallas spread the comics out on the table.

  Jenna held the doll and gazed into her eyes. “There’s something about this doll’s eyes,” she said to Dallas. “They’re so …” She searched for the word.

  “Blue,” Dallas supplied.

  Jenna looked closer. Yes, the doll’s eyes were blue. They were a sunburst of different shades of blue. But that wasn’t what she had meant to say. What made her study the eyes had nothing to do with their color.

  She tipped the doll back. The eyes closed with a small clunk. She righted her again. They snapped open. When she tipped the doll sideways, the eyes rolled to one side. The doll peered back at Jenna as if she were saying, What do you think you’re doing, anyway?

  “It’s not the color,” Jenna said at last.

  “Her eyes look sad … or angry. Or … I’m not sure what it is.”

  Dallas laughed. “Woo-o-o-o! Woo-o-o-o!” She fluttered her fingers in front of Jenna’s face. “I’ll bet Miss Tate’s old doll is haunted!”

  Jenna didn’t respond. She just laid the doll down on the paper. She and Dallas had been friends as long as she could remember, but sometimes the girl could be annoying.

  Jenna folded the newspaper over the doll, covering her eyes. They were closed now, anyway. “It’s just a feeling,” she said. “I know it’s silly.”

  Dallas and Jenna both worked at taping the package. It took lots of tape. The doll was an odd shape. A hand or a foot or a snub nose seemed to poke back out every time they had the package closed.

  When they were done, Jenna tucked the gift under her arm. They headed next door to her house. The moment they stepped through the door, Quinn appeared. “What’s that?” she asked. She pointed at the package.

  “That’s for us to know and you to find out,” Dallas tossed back.

  It wasn’t the smartest answer to give Quinn. She was the kind of little kid who refused to be left out of anything. Jenna could be scooping poop out of the cat’s litter box, and Quinn would be at her elbow. A secret package was going to be too much for her to bear.

  Jenna thought fast. “It’s just some garbage Dallas’s mom asked us to throw away.” She ducked down the hall toward her room.

  “Then why are you taking it to your room?” Quinn yelled after her.

  That was a fair enough question. Why was she taking garbage to her room?

  “Because she’s got a trash can in there. Didn’t y
ou know?” Dallas called back.

  Quinn followed them to the door of Jenna’s room. “Don’t you have trash cans at your house?” she asked.

  “No,” Dallas said, shutting the door firmly in Quinn’s face.

  The two girls looked at one another and collapsed into giggles. Jenna couldn’t help laughing, even though she knew Quinn could hear. She also knew that nothing made Quinn madder than being laughed at.

  “Jen-n-n-n-n-a!” Quinn wailed.

  Jenna ignored her. She leaned the lumpy package against her pillow. Then she stepped back to study it.

  Their black-and-white cat, Rocco, lay asleep in his usual spot at the foot of Jenna’s bed. He was curled into a tight ball, his nose tucked beneath his tail.

  “The package needs something,” Jenna said. “Ribbon, I think.”

  Dallas nodded. “That would help,” she said. “It’s not exactly—”

  But before Dallas could finish saying what the package wasn’t exactly, Rocco came to life. He woke as if he’d been poked with a sharp stick.

  Ftt-t-t-t-t!

  He jumped to his feet, spitting. The fur along his spine bristled. His tail puffed like a bottlebrush. And all this sudden fury was directed at the lumpy package!

  “Hey!” Jenna said. “Take it easy, Rocco.”

  But Rocco wasn’t going to take it easy. He danced over to the package on the tips of his toes and took a swipe at it. Then he leapt off the bed and streaked for the door.

  Dallas opened the door just in time for Rocco to make his exit. He whizzed down the hall.

  Quinn still stood on the other side.

  “What’s wrong with Rocco?” she asked. But she wasn’t looking at Rocco. She was looking at the package on the bed.

  “Don’t know,” Dallas replied. “You’d better go see.” She closed the door again.

  Both girls stared at the package. An eye stared back at them from behind the slit Rocco’s claws had made in the paper.

  “It looks like Rocco has it in for Miss Tate’s old doll,” Dallas said.

  “Yeah. I guess so.” Jenna sat down next to the torn package. Her knees were suddenly wobbly.

  What had gotten into Rocco? He was ordinarily a very gentle cat. She had never seen him attack anything fiercer than a buzzing fly.

  The truth was, though, it wasn’t Rocco that was scaring her.

  3

  “Did You Hear That?”

  “Well have to get more tape.” Jenna said it calmly, as though having Rocco go crazy wasn’t the least bit strange. But her legs still felt weak.

  Dallas poked at the long slit in the paper. “Either that or start over with new paper.”

  “I’ll get tape,” Jenna said.

  She didn’t know why exactly, but she didn’t want to unwrap the doll. She’d just keep her covered until she gave her to Quinn.

  When Jenna opened the door, Quinn no longer waited on the other side.

  Jenna found tape and a bow, too, in the hall closet. When she got back to the room, Dallas stood frowning at the package.

  “Anything wrong?” Jenna asked.

  “Of course not,” Dallas snapped.

  Jenna gave Dallas a long look. Why was she so cross?

  Jenna looked down at the blue eye peering through the tear in the paper. The eye seemed to be accusing her of something. But what? She wasn’t doing anything bad to the doll. Just wrapping it. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that Rocco had gone crazy.

  Quickly, Jenna stretched several layers of tape over the slit. Then she put the red stick-on bow over that. The bow was left over from Christmas. It was red velvet like the doll’s dress.

  “There,” she said.

  Dallas had been watching without offering to help. “Now put it away,” she ordered.

  “Why?” Jenna asked. She was beginning to feel a bit annoyed again. Dallas could be so bossy. “It’s all wrapped. Quinn won’t know what it is.”

  “But Rocco will still hate it,” Dallas said. “Cats have some kind of extra sense, don’t you think? And who knows what he’ll do if he sees the package again?”

  Jenna shrugged. “Okay.” She picked up the gift and tucked it under her bed.

  “No!” Dallas practically shouted.

  “No?” Jenna turned to stare at her.

  “You don’t want that thing under your bed,” Dallas told her. “That’s not a good idea at all. Just think about it under your bed staring up at you. Right through the mattress. All night long!”

  Jenna laughed. “This is a doll, Dallas. Remember?”

  But Dallas wasn’t laughing. “You need to put it away. Really away. How about your closet?”

  Jenna shrugged. “Okay,” she said. There was no point in arguing. When Dallas got an idea into her head, she didn’t let go of it easily. And Jenna wasn’t even going to ask what Dallas was thinking now.

  Jenna put the package on the shelf in the back of her closet. She shut the door.

  “Do you think it will stay there?” Dallas asked.

  Jenna laughed again. “Do you think she’s going to get up and walk away?” She flopped down on her bed.

  “Who knows?” Dallas said.

  Jenna studied her friend’s face. Was she joking? But she looked completely serious. So Jenna just asked, “What do you want to do next?”

  Dallas shrugged. “Let’s go back to my house.”

  “Okay.” Jenna sat up. She still didn’t know what was going on. Dallas usually liked to play at Jenna’s house. She had two little brothers at home who were always in the way.

  But they had no more than started down the hall when Dallas stopped. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Dallas tipped her head. “That!” she repeated. “It’s like a … a voice from far away. Like someone calling.”

  Jenna listened, too, but she heard nothing. She couldn’t even hear Quinn off complaining to their mother … which was what she was probably doing.

  Jenna shook her head. “I don’t hear a thing,” she said.

  “You’re sure?” Dallas asked.

  “Positive.”

  Dallas listened again, then gave a small shudder. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

  Jenna followed Dallas. But she couldn’t help wondering. What could there possibly be to hear?

  4

  From the Closet

  Jenna woke in the middle of the night. At least she thought it must be the middle of the night. Her room was completely dark. The house was silent. The only light she could see snuck through her window from the street-lamp on the corner.

  The streetlamp didn’t really light her room. Mostly it just made shadows.

  She lay still for a few moments. Why was she awake? Why was her heart pounding? Maybe she’d had a bad dream. She couldn’t remember any dream, though.

  But then she heard something. Was that what had wakened her? She held her breath. The sound was so faint it was almost like no sound at all.

  What was it?

  It sounded like paper rattling. Who could be rattling paper in her room in the middle of the night? Mice?

  And then there was that other sound … very low, almost impossible to make out.

  Was it someone crying?

  She pushed her blanket aside and stood up. Was Quinn crying? That wasn’t very likely. Quinn rarely cried.

  Besides, Quinn’s room was right next to hers. If she were crying, she wouldn’t sound so far away.

  Still, Jenna decided to check.

  She padded across her room and down the hall. She stopped in her sister’s open doorway.

  Quinn’s room was closer to the front of the house, so the streetlamp shone brighter here. Jenna could make out her little sister sprawled on her bed. She held her Raggedy Ann in the crook of her arm. Quinn loved that doll. She had hauled it around with her until it was flat.

  Quinn’s breathing was steady and quiet. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t even whimpering. She was sleeping. That was all.

 
Jenna went back to her room. She paused just inside her door to listen again. She heard only silence. Absolute silence.

  She climbed back into bed. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, rolled over, and closed her eyes.

  She was just drifting toward sleep when she heard it again. A distinct rustle and a low sound like a sob.

  Even as her arms pricked into goose bumps, Jenna figured it out. It was Rocco. Who else?

  Their cat had gotten shut in her closet. That happened sometimes. He liked hidden places. Every time anyone opened a door, he scooted through to explore. And sometimes he got shut in … in closets, kitchen cup boards, the laundry room. Once he even got shut inside the TV cabinet. He’d made a mess of the DVDs before Dad found him and let him out.

  This time he must be in her closet!

  Jenna pushed the blanket back again. She swung her feet out of the bed. But she stopped before she stood up. She just stopped and sat there, thinking.

  The doll was in her closet, too. Miss Tate’s doll. The one she was going to give to Quinn. It was all wrapped up, taped up, even decorated with a red bow. But it was in there.

  And suddenly Jenna didn’t want to open the closet door.

  Not in the middle of the night with the streetlamp stretching shadows across her room. Not with the sounds—the rustling, the crying—growing louder.

  Rocco was in her closet. Those sounds were only her cat. She was certain of that.

  But still …

  Jenna lay back down. It wouldn’t hurt Rocco to wait until morning to get out. Maybe he’d learn to pay more attention if he had to wait. He shouldn’t crawl into places where he could get shut in, anyway.

  Besides, the sounds had grown quieter now. So quiet she could hardly hear them. And then she couldn’t hear them at all.

  Her room was just as silent as the rest of the house. It was silent with sleep. Rocco must have gone to sleep, too.