The Haunting of Pico (Pico, Texas - Book 1)

by PATRICK KAMPMAN

  Monica showed up first, having gotten a ride from her mom. Something was different about her and I realized it was her jaw: it wasn’t moving. She had run out of gum. Richard arrived not long after, holding a grocery bag full of snack food. When the doorbell rang a third time, I had no idea who it could be, though I hoped it wasn’t Savannah inviting herself over again. We all found out a minute later when Eve came into my room, trailed by Trevor.

  “Wassup!”

  “Trevor?” I asked, hoping I was mistaken.

  “Man, there was no way I was going to miss this. When the ghosts show up, the girls are gonna need a strong pair of arms to jump into.”

  “Hope you’ve been working out, ’cause Richard’s put on a few pounds,” joked Becky.

  “Hey! She’s right, though, dude. You better not drop me,” said Richard.

  “Isn’t that too many people?” I asked Monica. I wasn’t Trevor’s biggest fan, but thinking about it, that was mostly because he hung with Tim, who liked to use my face to work out with. And he was dating my sister. Aside from that, Trevor didn’t seem too bad.

  “Actually, it’s perfect. According to the book, it’s best to have a number of people divisible by three. So like three or six, ’cause nine seems like it would be crazy.”

  “Why divisible by three?”

  “Because that’s what the book says.”

  “But—”

  She shut me up with a look. “I have no idea why. Does it matter?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, then thought better of it and shook my head.

  “Did you get everything?” she asked me, and I realized her grumpiness was probably due to withdrawal.

  “Yup. Still can’t believe they had a Ouija board. It even glows! Oh, they were out of strawberry gum so I got you peppermint instead. It’s sugarless.” I threw her the pack, trying to sound casual. “I only got one, but it should tide you over.”

  The room went silent. I looked up at Monica and was aware then that Becky had only the second scariest look in the county. One of Monica’s eyes was twitching, and I quickly grabbed the packs of strawberry gum out of the bag and handed them to her. Without saying a word, she got out a piece and started chewing.

  “So, where are we going to do this?” she continued, as if the gum incident had never happened.

  “In here?” I said doubtfully.

  Everyone looked around my room; there wasn’t a whole lot of floor space.

  “How about the attic?” Becky suggested. It seemed appropriate, so we made our way up through the secret door. The AC units were humming away, pumping out cold air. Even with all of the stacked boxes, there was plenty of space up here.

  “Dig Dug! Cool!” said Trevor, aiming directly for the old video game machine.

  “It’s broken.” Despite the revelation, Trevor, Richard and Becky went over to check it out.

  “Do you mind if I borrow some of the stuff from Charlotte’s room? I need it for the spell,” Monica asked, already halfway to the door.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Spell?” asked Becky, looking away from Dig Dug to focus on Monica.

  Monica cracked her gum and explained, “Okay, so like, when you do a séance, you’re supposed to have a medium. Someone who is all in tune with the spirits or whatever. Since we don’t have one, I’m cheating.”

  “Cheating?”

  “Yeah, there’s a spell in Charlotte’s book for summoning spirits. I figure we can summon her so we know she’s listening, and then use the séance to talk to her.”

  It sounded silly, but if we were going to do one corny ritual that wasn’t going to work, there was no reason not to do two.

  Monica rooted through the secret room for the required ingredients. Bored with the video game, Trevor followed her in and started poking around. After ten minutes of looking through the containers, she had found everything she wanted. All that was left was the photocopied picture. I handed it over, hoping all of this was going to work.

  Monica arranged everything on the floor in front of her. Then she pulled Charlotte’s spell book from her backpack, flipped through it until she found the section she wanted, and started reading.

  “Like, okay—first, everyone get in a circle on the floor around me.”

  “Why not use a table?” asked Richard.

  She glanced around. “Do you see a table? No? Then get your butt on the floor.” She kept reading, taking out the Ouija board from the shopping bag. Without lifting her eyes from the page, she waved the box around for someone to take. Becky grabbed it and tore off the shrink wrap.

  Next, Monica held out the bag of candles and shook it. She had a future in management. I sighed and took it from her hand.

  “Where do you want them?”

  “In a circle, behind everyone.” I made to set the candles where she wanted them, but Eve spotted the problem before I did. She darted downstairs, returning a minute later with candleholders and a lighter.

  Once the candles were all lit, Monica set the book down and fished a small CD player out of her backpack. She located an outlet behind a stack of boxes, and we soon heard melancholy classical music drifting softly from the corner.

  “Mood music? Seriously?” Eve said. Monica nodded.

  “Um, so the candles. Were they required? Or am I risking burning down the house for effect?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t be as spooky without them. The black’s a nice touch, don’t you think?” Monica smiled and then went over to turn out the light. The candles barely cast enough light to see by.

  “Anyway, I’m going to be in the center trying to cast the spell. Then, once it’s done, I’ll scoot back, and y’all let me into the circle for the séance, ’kay?” There was an affirmative chorus.

  Monica set a mortar and pestle down on the floor, and then began reading aloud while she added various ingredients into the stone bowl. The words were in English and reminded me of something out of a bad horror movie featuring satanic cultists. She continued to chant as she ground up the contents. Finally, she struck a match and lit the concoction.

  The mortar sparked and spat like a low-grade firework fountain working its way up to a fiery crescendo. Visions of a smoldering house and fire trucks flashed through my mind, and I kept an eye out for sparks catching on the wooden floor or a nearby box.

  Monica finished her chant and threw the photo into the mix. It ignited with a loud “whump” totally out of proportion to its size. A rush of air pulsed from the center of the circle, snuffing several candles out. The room was now lit only by the few remaining flames that had stubbornly refused to die.

  Monica scooted back to join us in the circle, locking hands with Becky and Richard.

  “All right, everybody, make sure to join hands,” Monica whispered. The room had grown cold, and goose bumps rose on my arms. The expressions on everyone’s faces indicated they felt it too.

  A shriek tore through the mood music and we all jumped. Eve was glaring at Trevor, who held up his hand in the candlelight to reveal a furry appendage. He waved it at everyone.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “No idea, dude. Found it in the room.” He nodded towards Charlotte’s study, setting the furry claw down behind him. It reached up out of a wooden base, like a grim paperweight.

  “Grow up,” snapped Eve.

  “Sure, I can grow. I just need a little help.” My sister gave him one of her looks, and I knew Trevor would soon discover that my sister fully embraced the idea of disproportionate revenge.

  After Monica reprimanded us, we joined hands again. This time there were no interruptions. She spoke in a soft, hypnotic rhythm, devoid of the usual over-the-top blonde act. She began by repeating Charlotte’s name over and over. Telling her we wanted to speak with her. Asking her why she was still occupying the house.

  A loud crack echoed off the ceiling, and we all jumped again. Monica sucked in the tattered remains of her bubble and continued chanting. The temperature in the attic continu
ed to drop, and Monica’s breath wisped out in the gloom as she spoke.

  A slight breeze swirled around our shoulders. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then the grocery bag began to flutter and slowly slide across the floor, caught in the unnatural breeze.

  One of the candles jumped straight up, then flew across the room. It smacked against a wall and blinked out. The remaining candle flames struggled against the darkness.

  It was freezing now, and none of us were dressed for it. Becky had started to shiver slightly, and I was about to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. Before I could, she was forced to let go of me. She ducked away from a box that went flying across the room, narrowly missing her head.

  “Dude, I think the spell pissed her off!” Richard said, as Becky clutched my hand again.

  “Yeah, but it totally worked. That’s so freaking cool!” said Trevor, a big grin plastered across his face. There was always a bright side to any situation; sometimes you just had to be either optimistic or stupid to see it.

  The pile of boxes against the wall started to shake, and the whole room was rumbling like a minor earthquake, or like a freight train was passing by. Another box went flying, and this time Eve and Trevor dove separate ways as it sailed between them and rolled to a crumpled heap at the far side of the attic.

  “Okay, man, that ain’t cool,” said Trevor.

  “Can you do something about this?” I asked Monica, realizing the situation was rapidly getting out of control.

  Monica was already reaching for the mortar, having come to the same conclusion just before I had. She was keeping a cool head, and barely flinched when one of the attic windows flew open and banged against the wall. That’s more than I can say for the rest of us, who all collectively jumped a foot off the ground at the sound.

  Monica’s eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for something to douse the flames with. Giving up, she tipped over the mortar and stomped on the contents until they stopped smoking.

  That seemed to do the trick: the rumbling immediately quieted and the temperature began to rise. A box that had been levitating, readying itself for a launch, dropped to the floor with a sound that said Mom would need to buy more ornaments this December.

  Charlotte was clearly gone, but we weren’t alone. A new presence had joined us—one I had grown familiar with. I wasn’t the only one who felt it; my friends looked around warily in the sudden silence, but there was nothing to see. The obvious disturbances had all stopped. Still, there was a definite something that remained.

  “Damn, dude. This is intense,” said Trevor, looking like he was having the time of his life. Eve just stared at him and shook her head. Richard was as white as, well, a ghost. Becky looked at everyone like a concerned parent. Monica was thinking, her gum going a hundred miles an hour.

  An ethereal wail permeated the house, followed by banging, and then muffled thumps that shook the floor. I had no idea how my parents were missing this.

  Monica’s face lit up. She grabbed the Ouija board, and held the planchette over it, visibly working to keep her hands steady. She took a deep breath, then asked, “Who is this? What do you want?”

  The planchette moved, jerking her hands across the board to spell M-O-M-M-Y.

  It repeated itself three times, each time more violently. I worried for a moment that it would dislocate Monica’s arm, but then the board flung itself through the air and flew into the secret lab. The AC shut down, and I knew she was gone.

  I blinked as the lights went on. Eve stood by the switch, seriously freaked out.

  “Man, you should sell tickets!” Trevor was vibrating, like he had just finished the most killer roller coaster ride ever.

  “How about we just get rid of the thing? Whatever it was totally trashed my horse collection.” I followed Eve’s gaze to a misshapen box that had vomited its broken contents across the floor. My sister had been collecting the porcelain horse figurines since she was four.

  “Any idea why Mom and Dad aren’t up here, checking on what the heck just happened?” I asked her.

  “They went to a movie,” she explained. She walked over and began to sort through the pieces to see if any horses were left intact.

  “That explains it. Sorry about your stuff, Eve.”

  She gave a weak nod, and I saw her chin tremble. I decided to change the subject, shift the focus to something else. Turning back to the others, I said, “I don’t think that was Charlotte, at least not at first.”

  “Dude, maybe she’s just bipolar.” Richard had regained his composure.

  “It felt like two different ghosts to me. Like there was one here at first that we called, but it left after Monica kicked over the burning thing. Then something else showed up right after,” Becky said as she tried to restack the remnants of boxes.

  “There were two, I’m sure of it.” Monica’s voice floated out from the secret room, where she had gone to retrieve the Ouija board.

  “The second one was our regular ghost. The first one was someone else,” I said, bending down to help Eve sift through the rubble.

  “The first one was Charlotte; that’s who I summoned.” Monica’s tone left no doubt.

  “Whoever it was, they were seriously pissed off,” said Richard.

  “Well, if that was Charlotte, then I have no idea who’s haunting this place.”

  Chapter 17

  The next day I went to work trying to figure out who the other ghost could be. There was no mention of Charlotte having a child, but the Ouija board seemed to hint that there could be one. Unless Charlotte had some unresolved issues with her mother?

  Halfway through my shift, I got a call from Mrs. Brown. She was out of town visiting her children, but would be back on Tuesday. I asked her if I could come over Wednesday afternoon to talk about Charlotte Monroe. She paused, but then said she was free Wednesday and supposed that it would be all right. We agreed to meet at her house at four-thirty.

  I did my usual skate by Freddy’s Drive-In on the way home from the bookstore. It was out of the way, but I was thirsty and there was a certain redhead—er, brunette—er, whatever her current color was—that I wanted to see.

  At work I had made up my mind to ask her to the dance. Worst case was that she would say no, but I didn’t think that was likely. In fact, I was certain she’d say yes. Even if it was only to get at her dad, like Rose had suggested. But so what if it was? It was all cool, as long as I knew what was going on. Right?

  On my way to Freddy’s, I wondered if Becky was even working that night, but she was. I skated over to one of the few benches, put my board on the table, and recited my order into the speaker. It was a slow night, and she swung by while I was still ordering. Her hair, pulled back in a ponytail, was back to its normal reddish blonde. The piercings were all in place, though.

  “Howdy!” she said, sitting across from me at the table.

  “Hey, Becky. Give up on the hair dye?”

  She sighed, “It’s a pain to keep spraying it on and then washing it out for the weekends. Plus it’s totally drying out my hair. Besides, my dad is used to it now. I don’t think he even notices anymore. I need to find something else to shake him up.”

  She looked right at me and my stomach lurched a bit as she confirmed my suspicions. I no longer wanted the grape slush I had just ordered. Rose had been right: Becky was using me to get back at her parents for who-knew-what. I considered asking her to the dance anyway, but I couldn’t do it.

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something that will get to him. Anyway, I kinda like your hair this color. I mean, it looks good no matter what,” I added quickly, remembering the cardinal rule to make sure to cover all the bases when complimenting a girl.

  “Thanks. How was work?”

  “It was all right. Mrs. Brown finally called back. I’m supposed to see her Wednesday after school. Hopefully she knows something about Charlotte, and maybe who the other ghost could be.”

  “I hope so. Both of them seemed really upset last n
ight. I can understand why Charlotte was angry, since we kind of brought her there against her will and all. But you said the second one was your normal ghost?”

  “If there is such a thing as a normal ghost, yeah.”

  “I wonder why it was so mad?”

  “No idea. She didn’t show up again after you guys left. But I’ve been wondering the same thing. For a restless spirit, she’s usually pretty mellow.”

  “Oh, hey, I can’t remember if I told you, but I was able to get next Saturday night off,” Becky reminded me for the third time in as many days. This girl is anything but subtle.

  “Does Richard have to work?” I asked, as she looked at me expectantly.

  She frowned. “No idea. Why, planning on asking him?” She didn’t even bother saying to where.

  I was fumbling for an answer when Monica skated over with the drink, saving me. “Heya, Chris!”

  “Hey. Thanks.” I took the drink and handed her the money.

  As luck would have it, a couple of customers had pulled up. Becky reluctantly got up, looking disappointed. “Well, I gotta go. See you tomorrow at the party?”

  “Yeah! See ya!” I looked down at the slush, then at Monica, who stood with hands on hips, giving me an exasperated look. I shrugged, then put my board down on the asphalt and skated away.

  I got home to find that the AC had been out of commission since the séance cratered it last night. My dad was pacing the floor of the kitchen, clearly at his wits’ end. He threw his hands up into the air before saying, “I don’t understand! It had started to work again.”

  My mom was on the phone. “Look, all I know is that your guys came out and assured me everything was working fine, and now we’ve been sweating to death since last night. I want someone over here tomorrow morning, and I expect them to stay until it’s fixed!”

  She slammed down the handset, then started aggressively preparing dinner. I gave them both a wide berth, turned on the downstairs TV, and tried to tune out the banging and clanking coming from the kitchen.