Midnight Reynolds and the Spectral Transformer

by Holt, Catherine;

  “Is she okay?” Mom asked.

  “She’s at home, and she’s recovering,” Phil told them. “But she’s so happy we found the necklace. Apparently it’s the only photograph she has of her great-great-great-grandmother.”

  “Do you think she’d offer a reward?”

  Midnight asked. Her mom shot her an annoyed look. “Midnight Reynolds, not everything’s about money.”

  Taylor sniggered. “Yeah, Midnight.”

  “I’m sorry, she didn’t say anything about a reward,” Phil said. “Though she’d love to thank you in person for finding it.”

  Her mom turned to Midnight. “You could take the necklace back today.”

  “But I can’t,” Midnight protested. “I’ve got to go to Tabitha Wilson’s house for our project.”

  “Miss Appleby only lives a few blocks from here. You can easily drop by.” Her mom’s lips were tight and her eyes were narrow. There was no way she was going to change her mind.

  “Fine. I’ll take the necklace to her before I go to Tabitha’s.” Midnight sighed while mentally adding one more thing to her to-do list.

  Between school projects and running errands, would she ever have time to find a job?

  CHAPTER THREE

  A little while later, Midnight stood in front of Miss Appleby’s two-story brick house, wishing she didn’t have to be there. The only thing stopping her was that her mom would freak if she didn’t return the necklace.

  She sighed and looked up at the house. It had a neat, cobblestone path leading up to a wide porch and a cheery yellow front door. Around the side was a large rainwater tank, clearly visible above the white fence.

  Her heart pounded as she walked up the path. If Sav and Lucy were with her, they would laugh at Midnight’s nerves, but the truth was that she found it difficult to meet new people. It was part of the reason why she’d always struggled to make friends in the past. Well, that and the fact that she had a name like Midnight.

  She lifted the heavy, black knocker and gave it three sharp raps. There was no answer, and she was trying to decide if it was okay to leave when the door finally opened.

  A woman appeared. She was leaning heavily on a wooden cane, but despite her obvious discomfort, she smiled warmly. “Ah, you must be Midnight. Thank you so much for coming to see me,” Miss Appleby said. She had large brown eyes and long, honey-colored hair tied up at the nape of her neck. She also really was a dead ringer for the old, dim photograph in the locket. No wonder Phil had figured out who owned it.

  “You’re welcome. It’s nice to meet you.” Midnight fumbled around in her pocket for the necklace and passed it over. Miss Appleby’s face quivered as she reached for it.

  “Thank you, child. I thought I’d never see it again, and I know it’s silly to get so sentimental, but it means a great deal to me. Anyway…” Miss Appleby paused, as if to collect herself. “Would you like to come inside for a few minutes? This silly ankle of mine makes standing difficult, but your good deed shouldn’t go unrewarded. I have cookies.”

  Normally Midnight was a sucker for cookies, but right now, all she wanted to do was leave. However, she was too much her mom’s daughter to refuse—she had been taught to always be polite.

  “Of course.” She forced a smile onto her face as she stepped inside. The hallway was nice, filled with colorful prints on the wall, and a large mirror that lightened the whole place up. The living room was just as fresh, with funky ornaments, flower-filled vases, and a long, white sofa dotted with bright pillows. It all kind of reminded Midnight of a department store display.

  She sat down on the corner of the sofa while Miss Appleby eased herself into a bright-red wingback chair by the fireplace.

  “Ah, that’s better.” Miss Appleby put the wooden cane down and lifted up two knitting needles that were attached to a long trail of amber-colored knitting. “I like to make blankets for the newborn babies at the hospital.”

  “I see,” Midnight said, trying not to think of the time she’d tried to knit a beanie and it had ended up resembling a potato sack. She squirmed on the sofa and wondered how long she needed to stay.

  “So, you have a very unique name, Midnight,” Miss Appleby said, the needles making a soft clicking noise as she spoke. “I have to ask, were you named that for a particular reason?”

  Midnight’s cheeks heated, almost feeling Miss Appleby’s penetrating gaze upon her. “Uh…yeah. I was born at midnight. On Halloween.”

  “Well, I’ll be.” Miss Appleby stopped knitting and let out a soft gasp. “So it’s true.”

  “What’s true?” Midnight said in surprise, since this wasn’t how people normally reacted.

  “That we share a birthday.” Miss Appleby gave her a warm smile. “When I heard your unusual name, it did make me wonder. You see, I don’t often come across anyone born at the exact same time I was. A nurse once told me some women try and avoid giving birth on the thirty-first of October because they think it will be bad luck.”

  “It’s worse luck when your mom decides to give you a name like mine,” Midnight said candidly, which caused Miss Appleby to laugh.

  “Good point. I got teased enough for having a birthday on such a well-known day, but I imagine that you must get even more considering your name. Let me guess. They call you freak? Ghoul? Witch?”

  “Yes.” Midnight nodded, years of taunting coming back to her. Normally she tried to forget about it, but meeting someone else who’d been through it was almost a relief.

  “And then there were the birthday parties.” Miss Appleby let out a soft sigh. “All I ever wanted was a pink cake, but all I got was—”

  “Something black and in the shape of a coffin or cauldron?” Midnight finished, trying not to think about all the years of having to act happy about her birthday.

  “That’s about the sum of it. Still, being born at this time also has its advantages.” Miss Appleby gave Midnight a considering look. “In fact…I’m in desperate need of some help, and my helper needs to have been born precisely at midnight on Halloween. Would you like a job?”

  Midnight let out a startled gasp. “How did you know that I was looking for a job? Did Phil tell you?”

  “No, he didn’t mention a thing,” Miss Appleby assured her, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “But does this mean you do want a job?”

  “I do.” She nodded, bowled over by her good luck. While Midnight believed in planning, her mom believed in positive thinking. Perhaps Mom was right…“So what kind of job is it? Running errands and sorting out your yarn? Because I’d be more than happy to do either of those things. Oh, and my mom taught me to cook. I’m not very good at it, but I can boil an egg. And—”

  “Actually,” Miss Appleby cut in, leaning forward, “I had something a bit different in mind. I was hoping that you could help me hunt ghosts.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Wait. What?”

  “I know it seems ridiculous.” Miss Appleby gave her a rueful smile. “Because let’s face it: when people think of a ghost hunter, they don’t automatically conjure up a middle-aged lady with a broken ankle and a passion for knitting.”

  “Okay.” Midnight sucked in a deep breath and waited for the punch line, but it didn’t come. “But you don’t mean ghost ghosts, do you?”

  “Unfortunately, I do.” Miss Appleby’s needles continued to clink together in a soft chorus. “Though if we’re being technical, the correct term is spectral energy.”

  “Spectral energy?” Midnight echoed.

  Miss Appleby nodded. “Only people born when the veil between the worlds is at its lowest can even see spectral energy. And if you can’t see it, you can’t stop it, which is why I need your help. At least until my ankle’s better. The doctor says it might take two to three months.”

  Midnight was sure she could feel her pulse flutter. One moment, they were having a perfectly nice conversation, and the next moment, they were talking about ghosts.

  “I think there’s been some mistake.” Midnight go
t to her feet and tried to ignore the goose bumps puckered up along her arms. “I can’t see ghosts or spectral energy or whatever you want to call it. I think I’d know if I could.”

  “Would you?” Miss Appleby’s brown eyes carefully studied Midnight’s face. “When most people think of ghosts, they think of what they’ve seen in the movies, but the truth is far different.”

  “Different how?” Midnight asked, unable to help her curiosity.

  “When someone dies, they leave behind an essence. In theory, their essence is meant to pass across to the Afterglow, but something different happens in Berry. There’s a phenomenon called a Black Stream—a huge ripple of electromagnetic currents that encircles our entire town and sucks spectral energy into inanimate objects. People’s energy gets stuck here, and when spectral energy stays in an inanimate object for too long, it festers and turns into something evil and endangers our whole town.”

  Midnight frowned. “How do you know all this?”

  “Because I see it, Midnight—flickering white lights, a strange buzzing noise that sounds like a swarm of bees. Of course most people don’t notice it, but we’re not most people. And I imagine you started hearing it when you first moved to Berry and it’s gotten worse since you turned twelve years old last week.”

  Midnight sat back down on the sofa, her legs as heavy as lead as she tried to ignore the way her hands were shaking.

  All the noises she’d been hearing.

  The ones she’d been trying to ignore.

  And it had been worse since her birthday.

  Especially at the dance.

  “What does turning twelve have to do with it?” she asked, looking over to where Miss Appleby was still sitting in the red chair.

  “Because that’s when our sight starts to develop. Of course, you can’t see full spectral energy without your glasses.” Miss Appleby finally put down her knitting. “Don’t worry. I’m not a mind reader. I just know that anyone with our special talents is born with dry eyes, which means that we can’t wear contact lenses.”

  Okay. Enough. This was crazy. Wasn’t it?

  Midnight didn’t want to be rude, but there was no way she could continue this conversation. The worst thing was that for a moment, she’d really thought that Miss Appleby understood what it was like to be considered weird just because of when you were born. Yet now she was trying to suggest that Midnight was weird.

  Well, she wasn’t. And she had her friendship with Sav and Lucy to prove it. Besides, everyone knew that flicking white lights and a strange buzzing noise did not a ghost make.

  “There must be someone else who can help you,” Midnight insisted.

  Someone who wasn’t twelve years old.

  Someone who wasn’t her.

  “If there is, I haven’t met them.” Miss Appleby looked away, her face twisted with pain. “In fact, I’d long ago given up hope of ever finding anyone who could help. I know this sounds crazy—impossible even, but I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other alternative. I’m the only person who keeps Berry safe from this energy, and I’m having trouble doing it with my broken ankle.”

  Midnight shook her head, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

  Besides, how did she even know that Miss Appleby was telling her the truth? It was too much. She had to get out of there. Away from Miss Appleby’s large brown eyes and pleading voice. She forced back the gnawing nausea in her stomach and got to her feet.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” she said.

  Instead of getting angry, Miss Appleby just let out a resigned sigh, her face gray and strained. “It’s okay. Believe it or not, I do understand. Perhaps if I had my life to do over, I would’ve chosen differently too. But if you change your mind, please, call me. My job offer still stands.”

  “Okay,” Midnight said, leaving Miss Appleby’s house as quickly as she could.

  It wasn’t until she was a few blocks away that she dared to stop and catch her breath.

  Living with a hippie mom and a pain-in-the-butt sister meant that Midnight had had her fair share of strange conversations, but nothing had even come close to that one. Not even when her mom had told her she was going to marry a Viking.

  Spectral energy? Was it even possible?

  She remembered Miss Appleby said that, without her glasses, it was impossible to see spectral energy. Midnight’s panic eased up. If that was the case, then it was simple. She wouldn’t wear her glasses anymore. Sure, seeing the whiteboard, objects, and people might be a problem, but failing a couple of exams and getting the occasional bruise from walking into something sure beat the alternative.

  Midnight took a deep breath as she walked to Tabitha’s. The sooner she forgot about what had just happened, the better.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Midnight moved to Berry, the first things she’d noticed were the trees—oaks, willows, maples, all lining the streets, flanking the winding river, and even lending their name to just about everything from her middle school to the outlet mall on the other side of town. Of course, the downside of trees was that in fall, there were a lot of leaves. Midnight kicked her way through small mountains of burnt orange, bright red, and muddy-brown foliage until she reached the address Tabitha had given her. She arrived and looked up at the huge brick wall and steel gate, which partially concealed a modern glass house.

  If Midnight hadn’t already triple-checked the address, she would’ve wondered if she had the right place. It seemed so weird that antisocial Tabitha would live in such an ostentatious home.

  “I see we have the same taste,” Tabitha said, coming to the front gate. Her sullen frown turned slightly upward into just a hint of a smile, though she was still wearing the black clothing she usually wore, and she was pale and lank-haired as always.

  “What?” Midnight gave herself a small shake to try and clear her head.

  “That look on your face when you saw the house.” Tabitha waved her arm for Midnight to follow her past the ornamental Japanese garden toward the front door. “I think it’s pretty gross too.”

  “Oh, no. I’m just surprised, is all.” Midnight paused and bit down on her lip. “Do you really not like this house?”

  “Not even a little bit.” Tabitha shook her head, her black hair whipping around like a static halo. “It’s just so sterile. So empty. So soulless.”

  “Right.” Midnight nodded cautiously as she trailed after Tabitha. They walked through a state-of-the-art kitchen with a see-through dining table. Outside, a plethora of long black leather lounges faced a large swimming pool. It wasn’t like Midnight hadn’t been in nice houses before. Both Sav and Lucy lived in big houses too. She’d just assumed that Tabitha’s house would be a lot less…bright.

  Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that she could get through the rest of the day without thinking about anything that had just happened to her.

  She followed Tabitha to her room. Unlike the sleek glass and chrome of the rest of the house, the walls were covered in posters of old vampire movies and bands whose names Midnight didn’t recognize. However, there was also a long white desk that ran the length of the wall with a sleek MacBook Air in the middle.

  “So, our project has to be about someone who once lived in our community and I have a great idea.” Tabitha sat down and inspected her chipped, black nail polish while Midnight turned on her own laptop. “Everyone in the class will be doing something boring, like the history of our town’s founding fathers, which is easy information to find. But I thought we could choose a random person and research their life. I have a plan of the cemetery to help us make our decision.”

  “Wait.” Midnight looked up from her laptop. “Did you say you have a plan of the cemetery?”

  “Sure did.” Tabitha folded her arms defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with spending time in the hallowed, sacred grounds of our community, learning to appreciate those who have gone on to new and unknown places. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Apart from being see
n there? No, none at all.

  But if she argued with Tabitha, it would take even longer to get the project done. Between her unsettling conversation with Miss Appleby and the fact that she still hadn’t found a job, all Midnight wanted was to get this project finished and tick it off her list.

  “Of course not,” she said in a bright voice. “So, let’s look at this plan.”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Tabitha grinned. She pushed aside her MacBook and unrolled a large piece of paper with small black rectangles dotted along it. Midnight had a bad feeling that they represented dead people. This was so not her idea of a good time. “Okay, this is the cemetery. Just let me bring up the app that has a list of everyone’s names.”

  “There’s an app for Berry Cemetery?” Midnight blinked, not sure if the day could get any weirder.

  “There’s an app for everything,” Tabitha responded, with the kind of pitying look that Midnight and Taylor normally gave their mom when she was trying to send an email.

  Midnight’s face heated. “Sorry. I guess it never occurred to me to look for one.”

  “No big deal. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, so why would you look for one? Now we just need to pick someone. Any preferences? Sarah Newton? Rodger Travis? Or if you don’t care who we pick, we could do Tobias Benson. His gravestone says, ‘Death is sure.’ Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Totally.” Midnight crossed her fingers, wondering if it was going to get easier working with Tabitha. “So, Tobias Benson it is.”

  “Great. So, now we need to figure out a plan of attack, like what days we should meet and how long it will take.” Tabitha still had her arms folded, but her shoulders had relaxed.

  “I can help there. I’ve already made up a preliminary timetable,” Midnight said, relieved to be moving back to familiar territory. She brought up her spreadsheet on her laptop and turned the screen so that Tabitha could see it.

  “And I thought that I was the weird one.” Tabitha lifted an eyebrow. “Is this your idea of fun?”