The Secret Room

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The Secret Room Page 3

by Aurore Damant


  “Well, Mr. Walters refused to tell anyone what was in it,” Mrs. Roman said. “He promised one day his secret recipe would be revealed. To the right person under the right circumstances. But that day never came.”

  “So where is the recipe?” asked the boy in the blue jacket. “Is it in the library somewhere?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Mrs. Roman said. “Everyone in town knows how important a discovery like that would be to the historical society. I would hope that if someone ever found the recipe, they’d bring it to us. But I don’t think that will ever happen. I suspect the recipe was never written down. We’ll probably never know what was in it.”

  Kaz and Claire exchanged a look. Was that what was inside the envelope in the secret room? The recipe for Walters Brew?

  If only Kaz could open the envelope or transform it and bring it through the wall. Then they could find out.

  Claire walked slowly along the bookshelf at the back of the library craft room. “There’s got to be a way into that secret room,” she said.

  “There is,” Beckett said. “Through the wall!”

  “I mean, there’s got to be a way people who aren’t ghosts can get in,” Claire said. “A secret passageway or something. Otherwise, how did Martin Walters get back there? How did he hide his secret soda-pop recipe in there?” She pushed against the bookshelf and felt around all the books.

  “What makes you so sure he did?” Beckett asked.

  Kaz and Claire had told Beckett and Little John about their trip to the historical society. But Beckett wasn’t as convinced as they were that the long-lost soda-pop recipe was inside that envelope.

  “What else could be in there?” Kaz asked.

  Beckett shrugged. “Could be anything. It could be the recipe. It could be something else. I thought you two were detectives. Detectives don’t jump to conclusions before getting the facts.”

  “We’re not!” Claire said. “I think the recipe is inside that envelope, but we won’t know for sure until we can open it. That’s why I need to get into the secret room!” She started removing books from the shelves and piling them on the table in the middle of the room.

  “Claire!” A voice startled everyone. It was Claire’s mom. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”

  Grandma Karen came up behind Claire’s mom. “What’s going on?” She glanced curiously at Claire’s mom and then toward the stack of books on the table.

  “I’m looking for a passageway to a secret room,” Claire said. “We learned about Martin Walters at the historical society today. He’s the one who built this house. He got the money to build it by inventing a new kind of soda pop. But no one knows where the recipe for the soda pop is. I think it’s back there.” She banged the wall with her fist.

  Claire’s mom marched over to the table, grabbed an armload of books, and put them back on the shelf. “Trust me, Claire. It’s not back there,” she said firmly. “There’s no secret room in this house.”

  Grandma Karen looked surprised by Claire’s mom’s strong reaction. “I don’t know, Katherine,” she said. “I think there could be a small room back there. I thought so back when we used to live here. If you walk around outside and look at where the window is and where the corner of the house is—”

  “Wait,” Claire interrupted. “What do you mean ‘when we used to live here’?”

  Neither Claire’s mom nor Grandma Karen answered Claire at first.

  “I knew you guys lived in this town when Mom was a little girl,” Claire pressed. “But did you actually live here?”

  “Yes, we did,” Grandma Karen said. “This was an apartment house for many, many years. And our apartment was right here. This craft room was our living room, bedroom, and kitchen. The bathroom was down the hall. Right where it still is. We shared it with another apartment.”

  “This little room was your whole apartment?” Claire cried.

  “That’s right,” Grandma Karen said.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Claire asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between her mom and her grandma.

  “It wasn’t a secret,” her mother said as she grabbed another armload of books from the table. “I just don’t like to talk about those days. It wasn’t a happy time.”

  Grandma Karen pulled out a chair and sat down. She motioned for Claire to do the same. “I was a single mom,” Grandma Karen began. “We struggled to make ends meet. But even though times were tough, I always loved this house. Isn’t it the most beautiful house you’ve ever seen?”

  “It is nice,” Claire agreed.

  Claire’s mom banged more books against the shelf.

  “Sylvia always took such good care of it,” Grandma Karen said. “Sylvia was the previous owner. When she put the house on the market, I couldn’t resist buying it. Even though I knew I didn’t want to manage an apartment house. But by then all the renters had moved out. And the library needed more space, so I decided to lease the downstairs to the city for a library. There was still too much space upstairs for me alone. But then you and your parents moved in, and, well, things have a way of working out, don’t they?” Grandma Karen patted Claire’s arm.

  “I guess,” Claire said.

  “You know,” Grandma Karen said, looking thoughtful. “If you want to hear more about this house, Sylvia lived here for more than forty years. You’ve probably seen her in the library. She’s an older lady. She often wears fancy jewelry.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ve seen her,” Claire said.

  “I think we found her lost earring once,” Kaz told Claire.

  “Nobody knows more about the history of this house than Sylvia Lock,” Grandma Karen said. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Why don’t I write down her address for you, and you can pay her a visit? Ask her if she knows anything about a secret room.”

  “Mother!” Claire’s mom said sharply.

  “What, Katherine?” Grandma Karen asked.

  Claire’s mom’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea for Claire to visit a lonely woman?” Grandma Karen asked. “Why in the world not?”

  But Claire’s mom couldn’t come up with a reason.

  “Can Windy and I come with you this time?” Little John asked when Kaz and Claire got ready to go visit Mrs. Lock the next day.

  “You can come,” Kaz replied. “But there isn’t room for Windy in Claire’s bottle.”

  “Can’t we take the box?” Little John asked.

  “No!” Kaz said. “I’m not traveling inside a box just so you can bring a doll.”

  Little John sighed. “Will you take care of Windy while I’m gone?” he asked Beckett.

  “Hmph,” Beckett said as he took the doll from Little John.

  Kaz and Little John shrank down . . . down . . . down . . . and passed through Claire’s water bottle. Then they set off for Mrs. Lock’s house.

  “My mom was acting weird yesterday,” Claire said along the way.

  “She sure was,” Kaz said from inside the water bottle.

  “Why would she think visiting Mrs. Lock wasn’t a good idea?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t know your mom very well,” Little John said. “But even I thought that was weird.”

  When they got to Mrs. Lock’s house, Claire went up the steps and rang the bell.

  Mrs. Lock opened her door a crack. “Yes?” she said.

  “Hi. I’m Claire Kendall,” Claire said cheerfully. “I live at the library.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Lock said again. She didn’t open her door any wider.

  “I have some questions about the library. About the building, I mean. My grandma said you probably know more about it than anyone.”

  Mrs. Lock blushed. “I suppose I do,” she said. “Come in.” She opened her
door all the way, then quickly closed it again behind Claire. “Please take off your shoes.”

  “Why do we have to take off our shoes?” Little John asked.

  “We don’t,” Kaz said. “She’s not talking to us, because she can’t see us. And we don’t walk on the floor, anyway. She wants Claire to take off her shoes because she doesn’t want Claire to bring dirt in.”

  “Ohhhh,” said Little John.

  While Claire bent over to untie her shoes, Kaz and Little John passed through the water bottle and expanded to full size. It was getting easier to pass through a solid object every time Kaz did it. He hardly even felt skizzy anymore. And he had to admit, it was nice to pass through the bottle without having to wait for Claire to open the top.

  Mrs. Lock pointed at a tall brown chair near the fireplace. “Sit down. Would you like some tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Claire said as she sat down and pulled out her notebook. “Do you know anything about a secret room or any secret passageways in the library?”

  “Secret rooms and secret passageways. Oh, wouldn’t that be fun!” Mrs. Lock chuckled. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Claire asked. “What about behind that bookshelf in the craft room? My grandma says there’s extra space between that wall and the outside wall. Couldn’t there be a secret room in that space?”

  Mrs. Lock thought for a minute. “I know the area you’re talking about,” she said. “I wanted to take that back wall out so the apartment would be larger. But the fellow who did the work for me advised against it.”

  “Why?” Claire asked.

  “You know, I don’t quite remember.” Mrs. Lock scratched her head. “But if you really want to know, you could probably ask him. His name is Victor Helsing, and he lives in that nursing home over on Valley Street. He did all of the remodeling. If there was ever a secret room or a secret passageway in that house, he’s the one who would know about it.”

  Kaz and Little John had never been inside a nursing home before. A large yellow, green, and blue bird greeted them from its cage beside the door when Claire walked in. “Hello! Hello!” the bird squawked.

  “Hello,” Claire said to the bird. “What’s your name?”

  “Hello! Hello!” the bird squawked again.

  As soon as the front door closed, Kaz and Little John passed through the side of Claire’s water bottle and expanded to normal size.

  “I never knew birds could talk,” Kaz said as he drifted close, but not too close, to the cage.

  “His name is Petey,” a lady behind a counter said to Claire. “Ask him who’s a pretty bird.”

  “Who’s a pretty bird?” Claire asked Petey.

  The bird shifted on his perch. He didn’t say anything.

  “Who’s a pretty bird, Petey?” the lady at the desk said.

  “Shut up!” the bird squawked.

  “Petey!” the lady exclaimed as Claire, Kaz, and Little John giggled.

  “Petey!” the bird repeated.

  The lady at the desk shook her head in dismay. “Can I help you?” she asked Claire.

  “I’d like to see Victor Helsing,” Claire said, leaning on the counter.

  “Sure,” said the lady. “He’s in room 105. Go down that hallway and walk through the activity room. It’ll be the first room on the right.”

  “Thanks,” Claire said as she, Kaz, and Little John started down the hall.

  “Hey, there’s a ghost!” Little John pointed up ahead.

  “Two of them,” Kaz said, as first one, then two ghosts darted across the hall from one room into another. Neither of the ghosts was glowing. And neither of them noticed Kaz or Little John.

  Claire, Kaz, and Little John continued down the hall and into the activity room. They were surprised to find four more ghosts hovering above a table where four solids were playing cards.

  “Hey! Who are you guys?” Little John asked as he and Kaz swam over to the ghosts. They were all lady ghosts. Old lady ghosts. The ladies turned to Little John and Kaz.

  The solids turned, too.

  “Who are you guys?” a solid lady with bluish hair asked.

  Kaz stared. Was that solid lady talking to him and Little John? She had to be. She said you guys and she was looking right at them. Claire was still halfway across the room. She had stopped to pull out her notebook.

  “We don’t usually see such young ghosts in here,” said the solid lady who sat across from the blue-haired lady.

  “Can you see us?” Kaz asked the solid ladies. Neither he nor Little John was glowing.

  “Of course we can see you,” said a solid man who sat between the two ladies.

  “We may be old, but we’re not blind,” said the other solid man.

  “You mean all of you can see us?” Little John cried, wide-eyed.

  “Almost everyone in this nursing home can see us,” said one of the ghost ladies. “Everyone of a certain age, I mean.”

  “Little John? Kaz? Is that you?” said a voice behind them.

  Kaz and Little John turned. “GRANDMOM?!?!” they cried out. Grandpop was there, too.

  The four ghosts swam to each other. First Kaz and Grandmom hugged while Little John and Grandpop hugged. Then Kaz and Grandpop hugged while Little John and Grandmom hugged.

  “How marvelous! It’s a family reunion,” said one of the ghost ladies.

  “Is Finn here, too?” Little John asked.

  “No,” Grandmom replied. “I’m afraid we never found him. What are you two doing here?”

  But before Kaz or Little John could explain, Grandmom grabbed them both and hugged them again. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you again!”

  “I . . . didn’t think . . . we’d ever . . . see . . . you . . . again, either!” Kaz said, gasping for air.

  Grandpop tugged on Grandmom’s arm. “Let the poor child catch his breath,” he said.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Grandmom said as she finally let Kaz and Little John go.

  Claire cleared her throat. “Kaz? Are you going to introduce us?” she asked.

  Grandpop peered down at Claire. “Who is this solid child?” he asked. “How does she know your name?”

  “Can she see us when we’re not glowing?” Grandmom asked.

  “Yes,” Kaz replied. “Grandmom, Grandpop, this is Claire. She’s my friend.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Claire said as she offered a hand.

  Grandmom and Grandpop each touched their ghost hands to Claire’s solid hand. It was the closest they could come to shaking hands.

  “Are you having trouble finding Mr. Helsing’s room?” the solid lady from the front desk asked Claire as she wheeled a cart into the activity room. She wheeled it right through Grandmom. “Room 105 is over here. Come with me. I’ll introduce you.”

  Claire looked torn. She clearly wanted to go talk to Mr. Helsing. But she also wanted to stay with Kaz and Little John and their grandparents.

  “Go ahead,” Kaz told her. “We’ll be here when you’re done talking to Mr. Helsing.”

  Claire nodded and hurried away with the lady from the desk.

  Kaz couldn’t tell whether his grandparents approved of Claire or not. Kaz’s family had always warned him to stay away from solids.

  “Claire’s really nice,” Kaz told his grandparents.

  “She is.” Little John backed him up.

  “She would never hurt a ghost,” Kaz went on. “She helps ghosts. She’s been trying to help me find our family.”

  “It’s okay, Kaz,” Grandpop said. “We’re glad you met a nice solid girl. We’ve met some nice solids here in the nursing home, too.”

  “Yes, we may have been wrong about the solids,” Grandmom said. “The ones we’ve met have all been very lovely. But we want to hear about you two. What are you doing here? Why aren’t yo
u at our haunt?”

  Kaz and Little John exchanged a look. Grandmom and Grandpop blew into the Outside before their haunt was torn down. They didn’t know their haunt was gone.

  So Kaz and Little John told their grandparents about the big trucks that came with a wrecking ball and destroyed the old schoolhouse.

  Grandmom put her hand to her chest as she listened. “Where is everyone?” she asked. “Where are your mom and dad?”

  “We don’t know,” Kaz said. “We all got separated.”

  Kaz told them how the wind had blown him into the library. Little John told them how the wind had blown him into a barn, then into another haunt where he met Kiley and her family.

  “We haven’t seen Mom or Dad since our haunt was torn down,” Little John said.

  “But we found beads from Mom’s necklace,” Kaz said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny ghost bead. “Little John has one, too!”

  Little John showed Grandmom and Grandpop his ghost bead.

  “Kiley’s mom and dad told me they’d heard there were ghosts in the library, so I tried and tried to swim in there, but the wind kept blowing me down the street,” Little John said. “Then I got the idea to hide inside a library book. That’s how I finally got into the library!”

  “That was very clever of you,” Grandmom said.

  “I know!” Little John replied. “And brave, too!”

  “Oh, brother,” Kaz said, rolling his eyes.

  “We’ve had quite a time these past few months, too,” Grandpop said. “We tried to find Finn, but the wind kept blowing us off course. One day it blew us in here. And, well . . . we like it here, so we’ve decided to stay.”

  “These solids have some wonderful stories,” Grandmom said. “And we love all the activities. There’s movie night. Music. Card games. We’ve never had so much fun!”

  Kaz was glad his grandparents had found such a nice new haunt.

  A little while later, Claire came back. “Mr. Helsing fell asleep on me,” she told the ghosts. “But that’s okay. We should head back to the library, anyway. Are you ready?”

 

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