Case of the School Ghost
Page 4
“I-i-is that Agatha?” Jillian whispers.
“I don’t know,” Michael whispers back.
Sniff … sniff … “No,” I say. “I smell humans, not ghosts.” Sniff … sniff … I also smell popcorn. And cookies. And candy. I LOVE popcorn, cookies, and candy. They’re my favorite foods!
The tunnel curves and I am moving faster now. “Come on,” I call over my shoulder to Connor, Michael, and Jillian.
We are getting closer to the popcorn, the cookies, and the candy. We are also getting closer to the chocolate and bubblegum scent.
All of a sudden, our flashlights light up a group of kids who are sitting on the floor of the tunnel in front of a closet door.
9
The Agatha Society
“Hey, you brought Buddy,” one of the kids on the floor says. I go over and let him pet me. Then I sniff at the closed door behind his. I smell dirt … fertilizer … gasoline … tools. Where are we? I wonder. What’s on the other side of that door?
“Who are you guys?” Michael asks.
“They’re fifth graders,” Jillian says. “This is Tim O’Brien.” She points her flashlight at a boy who smells like chocolate, rain, mud, and baseball. The boy squints.
“Tim lives on my street,” Jillian goes on. “And that’s Alex Shafer.” She shines her flashlight on a girl with long, wet hair who smells like chocolate, rain, and mud. “I don’t know the other two.”
I know one of the others. I know the boy who smells like chocolate, rain, mud, rabbit, and basketball. His name is the same as the girl’s: Alex. He’s Maya’s brother. Hmm. I think I know now where Maya got the idea to hide those lizards in the furnace room. Her brother probably told her about it.
“I’m Alex Lensing,” the boy Alex says.
“And I’m Meera Amin,” says a girl who smells like chocolate, rain, mud, and bubblegum. Ah-ha! She’s the one whose scent I smelled on the grate, and in the tunnel, and on all those papers and flashlights.
“You’re probably wondering why we’ve called you here tonight,” Tim says, turning on his flashlight.
“You called us here?” Michael says. He sounds a little disappointed.
“What? Were you thinking Agatha called you here?” Meera says, chomping on her gum. The other fifth graders smirk.
“We are the members of the Agatha Society,” Tim says. “We’re the ones who invited you here tonight.”
“Members of the what?” Connor says.
“The Agatha Society,” Tim repeats. “It’s a secret club that’s been at this school for more than forty years. The only people who know about it are the people who are in it now, the people who have been in it before, and now you guys.”
I’m not sure what I think about secret clubs. There used to be another secret club at this school. It was called the Sharks. I remember a boy pulled the fire alarm to get into that club. I hope this isn’t that kind of club.
“You have to promise not to tell anyone about this club before we go any further,” Meera says. “Do you promise?”
Connor, Michael, and Jillian all look at each other. “I guess. Sure. Okay.”
“That doesn’t sound very serious,” the boy Alex says. “If you’re going to join the Agatha Society, you have to take it seriously.”
“How do we know we even want to join?” Connor asks. “You haven’t told us what the club is or what you do.”
Tim, Alex, Alex, and Meera look at each other. “Mostly we sit around and eat candy,” the girl Alex says.
“Uh-uh.” Meera nudges Alex. “We do other stuff.”
“Like what?” Jillian asks.
“We keep the story of Agatha alive,” Tim says.
“Was Agatha a real person?” Connor asks.
“Yes,” Meera says. “She went to school here a long, long time ago. Her story is written down in here.” Meera holds up an old book.
Jillian reaches for the book, but Meera yanks it away. Only full members of the Agatha Society can see the club book.”
“What do we have to do to become full members?” Michael asks.
“You’ve already done most of what you need to do,” Tim says. “You were chosen by a current member. You completed the tasks we gave you in your letters. You solved our secret code. And you found your way to our secret hideout. Now all you have to do is take the club oath.”
“Before we do that, can you tell us more about the club?” Connor asks. “You must do something besides eat and keep the story of Agatha alive.”
“Well, we bring in new members during the fourth grade sleepover.” Alex says.
“A long time ago the club used to do random-acts-of-kindness-sorts of things,” Meera says. “You know, like give somebody flowers and not say who they’re from.”
“People were supposed to think they were from Agatha,” the girl Alex says.
“There were years the club made ghostly recordings and stuff so people would think the school was haunted,” the boy Alex says.
“It’s all in the book,” Meera says. “Everything the club has ever done is written up in the book.”
“There’s also a list of all the people who have ever been members of the club in the book,” Tim says. “There are some very surprising names on that list.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Yeah? Like who?” Michael asks.
Meera hugs the book tight to her chest. “You can’t know that until you’re an official member of the club,” she says.
“So what do you say?” Tim asks. “Do you want to join the best club at this school?”
“Yes! Yes! For sure!” Connor, Michael, and Jillian say.
“Okay, then,” Tim says. “Come join our circle.”
The fifth graders all stand up and make room for the fourth graders. I stay back out of the circle.
“Raise your right hand and repeat after me,” Tim says, holding up his right hand.
Connor, Michael and Jillian all raise their right hands.
“I, state your name,” Tim says.
“I, Connor Keene—”
“Michael Ford—”
“Jillian Sinclair—”
“Do solemnly swear to keep all the secrets of the Agatha Society,” Tim says.
“Do solemnly swear to keep all the secrets of the Agatha Society,” Connor, Michael, and Jillian repeat, their hands still raised.
“I now pronounce you members of the Agatha Society,” Tim says.
The other fifth graders clap.
Connor, Michael, and Jillian all grin at each other.
“Cool,” Michael says.
Tim reaches into his pocket and pulls out three shiny objects. Keys. He hands one to each of the fourth graders.
“What are these for?” Connor asks, eying the key in his hand.
“You know that old shed that’s in the back of the school?” the boy Alex says.
“Yeah,” Connor says.
The boy Alex puts his hand on the door behind him. “That’s what’s on the other side of this door. It’s how we get in here for meetings. Your key unlocks the shed. Once you’re in the shed, you can get into the tunnel, and eventually into the furnace room and the rest of the school.”
“Do any of the teachers know kids have these keys?” Connor asks. “Does my mom?”
“Nope,” says Meera. “And we’re going to keep it that way.”
“How do you get into the school from the tunnel?” Jillian asks. “Doesn’t somebody have to be in the school to untwist the screws on the grate?”
“Not if the screws aren’t in very tight,” Tim says. “You should be able to kick the grate in. And voilà! You’re in the school.”
“Cool,” Michael says.
“We hold all our meetings right here in the tunnel,” the girl Alex says.
“If you ever tell anyone about the club or its secrets, you’ll be kicked out,” Meera warns.
“Don’t worry,” Michael says. “We know how to keep a secret. Don’t we, guys?”
“Yes! Of course.”
Connor and Jillian nod their heads.
“Good,” Meera says. She brings the big book over to them and opens it up. Connor, Michael, and Jillian gaze at it. I try and look, too, but it’s all writing. No pictures.
Tim reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pen, and hands it to Jillian. “Now you guys have to sign the book.”
I watch as Jillian, Connor, and Michael all write their names.
“So who else has been a member of this club?” Michael asks, paging back through the book. “You said there were some surprising names in here, but so far I don’t recognize any of them.”
The fifth graders all grin knowingly at one another.
“Keep going,” Alex the girl says. “All the way back to the first name on the list.”
Connor and Jillian peer over Michael’s shoulder. Connor’s eyes just about pop out of his head. He points to something on the page and Jillian and Michael both gasp.
“Allan Poe?” Jillian says, wide-eyed. “Is that … Mr. Poe? Our janitor?”
The fifth graders keep on grinning.
“Mr. Poe wasn’t just a member of the club,” Tim says. “He’s the one who started the whole thing!”
10
Case Closed
“Does Mr. Poe know we have these keys?” Jillian asks.
“I don’t think so,” the boy Alex says. “If you read the book you’ll see the club only got keys about eight years ago.”
“Cool,” Michael says.
“We’ll meet here again next Friday at five o’clock,” Tim says. He opens the door behind him and I try and push my nose inside.
“No, Buddy,” Connor calls. “You’re coming with us.”
“Fine,” I say. Maybe Connor will bring me to his next meeting and I’ll be able to go in that shed then.
“Remember, don’t put the screws back on the grate very tight,” Meera says. “Otherwise we won’t be able to get into the school if we need to.”
The kids all say good-bye. Then the fifth graders leave through the door to the shed, and the fourth graders and I trot back down the tunnel the way we came. Connor and Jillian’s flashlights light the way.
“The Agatha Society,” Jillian says. “That is so cool!”
“I wonder why they picked us to join?” Connor asks.
“Who cares why?” Michael says. “I’m just glad they did.”
We climb back into the furnace room. Michael and Jillian put the grate in place while Connor holds the flashlight.
“Ready to go back to the sleepover?” Connor says.
“Sure,” Michael replies, opening the door. There are lights on in the basement hallway now.
“Looks like the electricity is back on,” Jillian say.
“Good,” Connor says. “Then we don’t need our flashlights anymore.”
Yes, but I don’t think the lights were on down here before the electricity went out. Why are they on now?
We march up the stairs. There are a lot of lights on up here, too. I know these lights weren’t on before.
Hey, I hear people calling me from another part of the school. “Buddy! Where are you, Buddy?”
“Connor? Michael? Jillian?”
“Uh oh,” Connor says. “Do you think people are looking for us?”
“We’re here!” I yell, bounding toward the voices.
I round a corner and, wow, it’s like a party! There are so many humans here. Fourth grade humans and full-grown humans like Mr. Poe and Mrs. Warner. And they are all petting me.
“Look, Mrs. Keene,” says one of the kids. “We found Buddy.”
“And here comes Jillian, Connor, and Michael, too,” says another kid.
I break away from the kids who are petting me and race toward Mom. She gives me a little pat on the head, but her eyes are fixed on Connor, Michael, and Jillian.
“Where have you three been?” Mom asks, standing up tall. She looks worried. And a little bit mad.
Connor bites his lip. Jillian lowers her eyes. Michael grinds his toe against the floor.
“Connor?” Mom folds her arms. “I asked you a question. Everyone’s been looking for you.”
“Uh … we were in the music room,” Connor says in a small voice. It’s true. Connor, Michael and Jillian were in the music room. But there’s a lot more to the story than that.
“Why were you in the music room?” Mom asks. “Didn’t I say that the music room was off limits?”
“We were … looking for ghosts,” Michael says.
“Did you find any?” Mr. Poe asks with a wink of his eye.
Michael starts to smile, but Jillian nudges him.
“Don’t encourage them, Mr. Poe,” Mom says. “There are no such things as ghosts!”
“We’re sorry, Mom,” Connor says. “We know we weren’t supposed to be in the music room. We just wanted to see if we could figure out what Michael saw in there earlier.”
“Well, I hope the three of you will follow directions the rest of the night,” Mom says.
We all troop back to the library. Along the way, Mom leans over and says to Connor, “We’ll talk about this some more when we get home.”
Connor groans.
We pass the main door to the school and a flash of gray outside catches my eye.
I stop. Is that … Cat with No Name?
No, it can’t be. Cats don’t like to be out in the rain. I peer closer. It sure looks like Cat with No Name. He’s all huddled up against the door.
I let all the humans go on without me, then I pad over to the door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Cat. I actually feel a little bit bad for him being stuck out in the rain.
Cat lifts his chin. “I’m waiting for Agatha,” he says coolly. “We have an appointment.”
“Ha!” I say. “There is no Agatha.”
“Really?” Cat says, blinking his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes!” I say. “There ars no such things as ghosts. All that stuff about Agatha is just a story that’s been passed down through this club called the Agatha Society. But you probably already know that.”
For some reason, Cat seems to know everything. I don’t know where he gets his information.
“You probably know that the club members meet in this tunnel that you can only get to from the shed out back or through the furnace room in the basement,” I go on. “That’s probably why you told me to stay out of the basement. You didn’t want me to find all that out.”
Cat blinks his eyes again.
“You may know practically everything there is to know,” I tell Cat. “But that doesn’t mean you can make a fool out of me. Not today!”
It feels so good to finally stand up to Cat with no Name.
“Well, there’s always tomorrow,” Cat says. Then he turns and walks out into the rainy night, his tail held high.
I skip back to the library. The fourth graders are getting settled in their sleeping bags. I go over and find a nice spot between Connor and Michael. I rest my head on Connor’s stomach and my tail on Michael’s leg.
Mom turns on another movie, and one by one, all the kids drift off to sleep.
I guess I solved the Case of the School Ghost. But I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Agatha. Or the last of the Agatha Society.
About Dori Hillestad Butler
Dori Hillestad Butler is the author of more than thirty books for children, including picture books, chapter books, and middle grade novels. Her middle grade novels Sliding Into Home; Trading Places with Tank Talbott; Do You Know the Monkey Man; and The Truth About Truman School have been on children’s choice award lists in sixteen different states. She’s been a ghostwriter for several popular series, including Sweet Valley Twins and The Boxcar Children.
Her Edgar® Award–winning series, The Buddy Files, is a chapter book series about a school therapy dog who solves mysteries. Dori and her dog, Mouse, are a registered pet partner team in Coralville, Iowa, where they participate in a program that promotes reading with dogs.
She grew up in southern Minnesota and now lives in Coralville, Iowa, with her husband, son, dog, and cat.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, 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, 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 © 2012 by Dori Hillestad Butler
cover illustration copyright © 2012 Jeremy Tugeau
978-1-4532-4730-3
This 2011 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media
180 Varick Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
EBOOKS BY DORI HILLESTAD BUTLER
FROM ALBERT WHITMAN
AND OPEN ROAD MEDIA
Available wherever ebooks are sold
ALBERT WHITMAN
FIND OUT MORE AT
WWW.ALBERTWHITMAN.COM & WWW.OPENROADMEDIA.COM
FOLLOW US:
@AlbertWhitman and Facebook.com/AlbertWhitmanCompany
@openroadmedia and Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
Videos, Archival Documents, and New Releases
Sign up for the Open Road Media newsletter and get news delivered straight to your inbox.
FOLLOW US:
@openroadmedia and
Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
SIGN UP NOW at
www.openroadmedia.com/newsletters