The Ghost of Poplar Point

by Cynthia DeFelice

“I’m a lucky duck,” Michael sang happily.

  “Come on, lucky duck, let’s go brush our teeth,” suggested Allie.

  Leading Michael from the kitchen, she looked back at her mother, who smiled at her and mouthed the words Nice work.

  After Michael had left happily with his dad for Fritzi’s house, Allie said goodbye to her mother and rode her bike to Dub’s. Side by side, they pedaled slowly downtown to the opera house for the first day of actual rehearsal.

  “Do you know your lines?” Allie asked.

  “I sound pretty good in my room in front of the mirror,” Dub answered with a grin. “But there’s no telling what’ll happen onstage. That old theater is so big; it kind of freaks me out to look out at all the rows and rows of seats. Not to mention the balconies.”

  “When I was little, I wouldn’t go up in the balconies,” said Allie. “I thought they were haunted.” She laughed and added, “And that was before I knew any real ghosts.”

  “Speaking of ghosts, any new developments?” Dub asked.

  Allie told him about her nightmare, and her worries about Michael having bad dreams along with her. “I’m afraid to go to sleep because I don’t want Mike to be scared.”

  “Well, let’s hope we find out something soon,” said Dub. “You can’t exactly stay awake twenty-four hours a day.”

  As usual, Dub’s understanding and sympathy made Allie feel better.

  Approaching the main part of town, they had to ride single file and watch for traffic. Allie pulled ahead of Dub and they went the rest of the way without talking.

  When they reached the theater, they saw a van parked out front with the rear doors flung open. The van was painted in a camouflage pattern. On the side, in large, bright red letters, was written UNCLE HAL’S ARMY SURPLUS AND RENT-A-CENTER—IF UNCLE HAL DOESN’T HAVE IT, YOU DON’T NEED IT! A life-size replica of a bald eagle, wings spread and talons outstretched, was mounted on the roof.

  At that moment, a man came out of the theater and walked toward them. Allie saw that he matched the van: he was dressed in camouflage pants, boots, and shirt. The shirt’s sleeves were rolled up above his biceps, and as he came closer Allie could see a tattoo on one arm. She smiled when she realized it was Bugs Bunny, holding a carrot, with a word balloon that read, “What’s up, Doc?”

  The man, obviously Uncle Hal himself, reached into the driver’s-side window of the van. A loud horn blared a raucous “A-OOO-GA” sound, making Allie and Dub both jump. The man grinned. “Hi, kids.”

  “Hi,” Allie and Dub said together.

  “Can you really smash a beer can on your forehead?” Dub asked.

  Uncle Hal’s grin grew wider. “Has that nephew of mine been bragging on his Uncle Hal?”

  “He told our whole class about you,” Allie said.

  “And about the burping contests,” Dub added.

  “Well, it’s true, I have won a few in my time, and I have the trophies to prove it,” Uncle Hal said modestly. “But don’t you go trying that business with the cans, you hear? Leave it to the professionals.”

  “Okay,” said Dub with a laugh. “But Brad said you’re into kung fu now.”

  Uncle Hal let out a sharp, explosive breath and moved suddenly, landing in a graceful pose with his arms raised and his knees bent. Then he straightened, let his arms fall, and said solemnly, “As disciples, we strive to be wise and calm and to cultivate selfcontrol. But if we are set upon by an enemy, we fight like all get-out.”

  “Can you break a cinder block with your hands yet?” Dub asked eagerly.

  “So far, all I’ve got is one broken board and a broken hand,” Uncle Hal admitted. He roared with laughter, adding, “It’s plenty sore, anyhow.”

  Just then Karen Laver passed by, pedaling very slowly on her bike and gazing at them disdainfully. She drawled, “I am so glad I got out of that stupid pageant when I did.”

  “Why don’t you mind your own business, Karen?” said Dub.

  “But you are my business,” Karen said sweetly. “I like to keep up on what the town’s two biggest losers are doing. It’s so entertaining.” She wiggled her fingers as she passed by. “Tootles.”

  “Tootles to you, too,” Allie muttered.

  “Whew,” said Uncle Hal with a low whistle, “what’s eating her?”

  “Oh, she’s always like that,” Dub said.

  Uncle Hal shook his head. “People sure find strange ways to enjoy themselves,” he said.

  Allie smiled to herself at this remark, coming as it did from a man with Uncle Hal’s hobbies.

  “So you kids are in the pageant,” Uncle Hal said. “How about helping me carry this stuff in?”

  “Sure.”

  Uncle Hal was rummaging in the rear of the van when Brad Lewis rode up on his bike. “Hey, Uncle Hal!” he called.

  “Hey, little buddy!”

  Brad and Uncle Hal exchanged high fives. Then Uncle Hal handed a large cardboard box to each of the kids, grabbed two more, and nudged the van doors shut with his elbow. “Looks like that’ll do it,” he said. He winked and added, “Let’s take these in to that cute young lady who’s running the show.”

  When they had delivered the boxes and the rest of the kids had shown up, Miss Lunsford called for order. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Lewis,” she began.

  “Uncle Hal’s fine, ma’am,” Uncle Hal interjected. “Or just plain Hal, if you like.” He gave her a big smile. “You say ‘Mr. Lewis,’ I think you’re talking about my dad.”

  “All right, then,” Miss Lunsford agreed. She smiled back at him and added, “But you’ll have to drop the ‘ma’am,’ or I’ll think you’re talking about my mother.”

  Uncle Hal laughed. “So I should call you … ?”

  Allie watched as a blush rose to Miss Lunsford’s cheeks. “Beth will be fine.”

  Dub nudged Allie and whispered, “Go, Uncle Hal!”

  Miss Lunsford cleared her throat and turned back to the cast. “So, as I was saying, Uncle Hal has generously offered to supply us with props and costumes for the play. Those of you who are settlers, please see me. Indians, please go over to the other side of the stage with Uncle Hal. Technicians and scenery people, Uncle Hal put some boxes backstage for you. Look through them carefully, and take what you think will be useful.”

  A flurry of activity followed while the settlers tried on old-fashioned dresses, bonnets, hats, and pants with suspenders, and the Indians donned clothing made of a material that the kids agreed looked like real buckskin. In less than an hour they were all outfitted, and had stowed their costumes in plastic bags labeled with their names. Allie loved the special beaded headpiece she would wear as Laughs-like-a-waterfall.

  Brad, Joey, and the other stagehands proudly showed the frames they had assembled for hanging the scenery. Some of the boys carried on a mock battle using the muskets and bows and arrows Uncle Hal had provided, until Miss Lunsford flashed the lights on and off to restore order.

  “We’ll take a five-minute break now, people,” she announced. “Then we’ll regroup and go through the opening scene. First, though, let’s give a big thankyou to Uncle Hal for his help.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Hal,” the kids chorused.

  “No problem,” Uncle Hal answered. With a little wink at Miss Lunsford, he turned to leave. Brad and Dub and some of the other kids started to accompany him up the aisle. Allie was about to follow when Miss Lunsford approached her. The director’s face, so happy just a moment before, now appeared tense. “Allie, I need to speak with you.”

  “Oh,” said Allie, surprised. “Sure.”

  “Let’s go where we can have some privacy,” Miss Lunsford said, heading to a little room backstage.

  Curious and a bit uneasy now, Allie went with her.

  Miss Lunsford took a deep breath and said tightly, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” She paused, and a muscle in her jaw jumped. “I’ve had to make a casting change. You won’t be playing Laughs-like-a-waterfall, after all.”

  All
ie blinked.

  Miss Lunsford went on quickly. “I’m sorry, Allie. I got a call last night from the head of the town council, and another from my boss at the Chamber of Commerce. What it boiled down to was that if another girl didn’t get the part, the pageant was going to be canceled. I had to make a decision between letting down one person—you—and disappointing the entire town.”

  “But that isn’t—”

  “It isn’t fair, I know.” Miss Lunsford reached out and squeezed one of Allie’s hands in hers. “This is not the way I like to do things.”

  Allie remembered the scene she’d witnessed the morning before. “Janelle Kavanaugh’s getting the part, isn’t she?” she asked.

  Miss Lunsford nodded. “How did you know?”

  Not really wanting to admit that she and Dub had been eavesdropping, even if it had been by mistake, Allie said, “I—I heard her father is giving the money for the pageant.”

  Miss Lunsford nodded again, her lips tight. “It’s the worst kind of small-town dirty dealings—” She broke off and looked away for a moment. Then she repeated, “I’m sorry, Allie. I’m afraid you’ll have to give the beaded headpiece to Janelle, and you’ll play one of the Indian girls. But I think we can still incorporate your idea of speaking in Seneca. How does that sound?”

  Allie was still too surprised and disappointed to answer. She shrugged.

  Miss Lunsford nodded sympathetically. “I don’t blame you for being upset. If it helps, I suspect Janelle feels terrible about this. She couldn’t have wanted to get the part this way.”

  “Then she should have said so,” Allie muttered.

  Miss Lunsford sighed. “Her father was very insistent. I hope you won’t hold it against her.”

  Allie didn’t answer, and the director appeared to take her silence as agreement.

  Miss Lunsford smiled ruefully. “I appreciate your understanding, Allie.” She patted Allie’s shoulder and walked out of the small room.

  Allie stood where she was, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Glad no one was there to see, she brushed them away.

  Returning to the auditorium, she took a seat near the side wall and tried to get a grip on her emotions. Janelle had stolen the part that was rightfully hers, and Allie did hold it against her, no matter what Miss Lunsford had said. Janelle should have spoken up and said she didn’t want the part. Why hadn’t she? It was what Allie would have done.

  Along with her anger and disappointment, she felt the distinctive prickly feeling that meant her ghost was present.

  Uh-oh, she thought. What now?

  Six

  When the other kids returned, Allie looked at Dub. He looked questioningly back at her, obviously wondering why she was sitting alone at the end of the fourth row. He started over toward her, but Miss Lunsford told everyone to quiet down and take their seats. “In the scenes where the settlers and Indians first meet and get together for a feast, there are many of you who don’t have lines to speak,” she said. “You’ll be onstage, though, and I don’t want you to simply stand around like part of the scenery. You should pretend to talk to one another, stir the cooking pots, act busy doing the things that you think would be going on. I’m not going to tell you specifically what to do; just improvise.

  “Okay, now let’s begin with Laughs-like-a-waterfall’s opening speech. There has been a casting change in this role. Janelle, take your place, please. Allie, for now you come on up and join the others who are improvising.”

  Several kids, including Dub, turned in their seats to stare at Allie with surprise. When she saw the shock and sympathy in Dub’s eyes, she quickly looked down, afraid she might cry again.

  She stood onstage and listened in disbelief as Janelle stammered and stuttered through her lines. As Janelle was trying for the fourth time to get through her introductory speech, Allie felt a familiar stirring inside. Suddenly she called out loudly and insistently, “Skayendady gyasonh!”

  Some of the kids laughed, and others looked at her as if she’d gone crazy. Miss Lunsford turned to her with a puzzled expression and said softly, “That is not quite the kind of improvisation I’m looking for, Allie.”

  But when Janelle resumed her speech, Allie found herself blurting out several more strange sentences.

  “Allie, since you can’t control yourself, I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave,” Miss Lunsford said unhappily. “Come back tomorrow with a better attitude, please.”

  Allie left the stage and walked in a daze up the aisle and out into the glare of the morning sun, unable to believe what was happening to her. Not knowing what else to do with herself, and needing to talk to Dub, she waited by the bike rack for him to come out.

  “It is so unfair, I can’t believe it!” Allie shouted to him when he appeared. As they rode their bikes slowly down the back alley behind the opera house, she shared the whole story. “Janelle should have told her father she didn’t want to be in the pageant. Or she could have said she wanted a different part. A part that wasn’t already taken!”

  Dub nodded sympathetically. “Especially since she still can’t say her lines without stammering all over the place!”

  Allie cried, “She was awful!”

  “She was so bad I actually felt kind of sorry for her,” Dub said.

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?” Allie asked testily.

  “Al, come on,” Dub answered. “You know I’m on your side. I’m just saying Janelle didn’t exactly look like she was having the time of her life up there. She had to be embarrassed. I sure would have been.”

  “Then she should have admitted she’s no good for the part and stepped down,” said Allie grumpily. “Instead, I got yelled at about my attitude! I couldn’t help saying those things!”

  “I know that, Al,” said Dub. “But nobody else does, including Miss Lunsford. She’s got to think you’re acting like a sore loser.”

  Allie sighed. She had no reason to yell at Dub. He was only trying to help. And he was right. “I can’t very well tell Miss Lunsford the truth,” she said wearily. “So what can I say? I should just drop out of the pageant altogether.”

  “That’s not the answer,” said Dub. “And, anyway,” he added quietly, “you might not be able to quit.”

  “What do you mean?” Allie demanded.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, this latest ghost of yours seems to be very interested in the pageant.”

  “So?” Allie said cautiously.

  “Well, if the reason the ghost came to you has something to do with the pageant, it may not let you quit.”

  May not let you.

  The phrase echoed in Allie’s head as they pedaled in silence the rest of the way to Mrs. Nichols’s antiques shop.

  Seven

  “Wow,” said Allie as she and Dub entered her mother’s shop. “I’ve never seen this place so crowded.”

  Mrs. Nichols, her face flushed and happy, looked up and waved from the other side of the store, where she was taping bubble wrap around a china vase.

  Dub and Allie went over, and Mrs. Nichols exclaimed, “Boy, am I glad to see you two! We’ve been busier than I ever expected. Reggie’s out back loading a dresser into Leslie Buell’s van. Would you mind refilling the cookie tray and putting out more napkins? Also, could you check the lemonade pitcher?”

  “Okay, Mom,” said Allie. She wanted to tell her mother about what had happened at rehearsal, but she could see it wasn’t the right time.

  “I’ll get the cookies,” said Dub. “But I should probably do a taste test, don’t you think? Just to make sure they haven’t gone stale or anything.”

  “Good idea, Dub,” said Mrs. Nichols with a laugh. “I can always count on you.” She turned to Allie. “After you get the refreshments squared away, would you and Dub mind the front desk while I stay out on the floor and help customers?”

  “Sure!” Allie said. She loved ringing up sales on the cash register, taking people’s credit cards, checks, and cash, and making change.

  After t
he food table was restocked, she and Dub took their positions behind the front desk, munching on white chocolate chip cookies. Allie noticed that the cookies appeared to be meeting with Dub’s full approval.

  She was showing Dub how to run a credit card through the scanner when she heard a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. She looked up and was amazed to see that Mr. and Mrs. Kavanaugh had entered the store, followed by Janelle. Allie nudged Dub, rolled her eyes, and said, “Look who’s here.”

  Dub’s eyebrows lifted.

  Janelle hadn’t noticed them yet. She positioned herself behind a large wooden coatrack, as if trying to make herself invisible, or at least as inconspicuous as possible.

  Mrs. Nichols said, “Why, hello, Eileen. Hi, Darryl.”

  “Can you believe it?” Allie muttered to Dub. “That creep is my mom’s new landlord.”

  Dub muttered back, “Then he’s my parents’ landlord, too. I never knew his name before.”

  “I think he owns the whole town,” Allie said darkly.

  “Business is booming,” Mr. Kavanaugh said in a loud, hearty voice. “That’s what we like to see.”

  “Today has been absolutely crazy,” Mrs. Nichols said brightly, pushing back a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “This town-wide sale idea of yours was a good one, Darryl. I had a minute to talk with some of the other shop owners, and everyone’s having a fantastic day.”

  Mr. Kavanaugh smiled. “The sale is just the beginning. I have big plans for this town, Ann.”

  Mrs. Nichols said, “Darryl and Eileen, I don’t believe you know my daughter, Allie, and her friend Dub Whitwell.” She gestured toward the desk. “They’re here helping out today. Allie and Dub, I’d like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Kavanaugh.”

  After everyone had said their hellos, Mr. Kavanaugh turned to Dub. “Whitwell, eh? Your parents run the computer store, right?”

  “Yes,” said Dub.

  “How do you like the improvements I made to the place? Looks great, don’t you think?”

  Dub gave a little nod, but didn’t say anything. Allie knew how he felt: there was no need to praise Mr. Kavanaugh when he was doing such a good job of it himself.