Diary of a Part Time Ghost (Ghosts & Shadows Book 1)

by Vered Ehsani

  “Please don’t let him be there,” I whispered several times during the course of the morning, which seemed to drag on and on. In the late afternoon, I heard the downstairs door open, and a series of conversations and footsteps rushed into the silence and filled the house with life. A few minutes later, Mom knocked on my door.

  “Oh, Ashish, are you feeling any better?” she asked. “Hungry?”

  Now that she mentioned it, I was. “Yeah, I think I need a peanut butter sandwich. I’ll go make it. I need to get up anyway.”

  “Nonsense,” Mom stated firmly, almost pushing me back into bed. “I’ll make it.”

  Several minutes later, Shanti stomped upstairs and burst into my room with only the slightest of knocks to announce her arrival. She carried a tray with a couple of sandwiches and juice on it.

  “Live it up, boy,” she grumbled as she placed the tray down. With an irritated look, she stalked out of the room, only pausing to glance over her shoulder and state in a threatening tone, “I really hope you’re working on my essay.”

  “Getting to it,” I promised. She made a rude noise and closed the door a tad harder than necessary. After wolfing down my sandwiches, I took a short nap and woke just before 4:00 p.m. Sunset in winter came early, and I figured Sara and I would have just enough time to get to the river before it was too dark. I placed the tray outside my door, added the word, “Sleeping” to my “Please do not disturb” sign, and then closed the blinds. I put on hiking boots this time—oh, yeah, I was learning—and a thick wool sweater under my jacket. I then climbed into bed, covering myself with the quilt (my mom would really worry if she saw how many layers I had on in bed!), opened the book under the covers, and zoomed in.

  I arrived at the Liberty Tree again, which I have to admit made me cringe. I was still recovering from that experience; I’d probably need therapy. In the gathering dusk, the tree looked ominous somehow, leering at me with skeletal limbs reaching out over the snow. Shivering, I focused on Sara, and this time appeared in the kitchen where the two girls were sitting, a fire crackling pleasantly in the hearth. Retreating to the outer courtyard, I solidified and then walked casually into the house.

  “Time to go,” I announced. I was enjoying the dramatic entrances.

  “Goodness!” Maggie jumped up off her stool. “You’re as quiet as a ghost!”

  Sara grimaced at the expression and then grinned conspiratorially at me. Then she politely thanked Maggie for mid-morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, and before-dinner snacks. And all I had was a couple of sandwiches.

  “Gee, I hope you’ll be able to swim after all that eating,” I commented as we walked out of the house.

  “What?” Sara asked, her eyes wide with alarm. “You know I can’t swim! Not unless I’m holding onto something. Do we really have to swim?”

  “No. Just kidding,” I snickered, ignoring her foul look. As we moved through the town, I could feel the tension of the people we passed. There was a growing sense of something about to happen. When I mentioned it, Sara nodded knowingly.

  “Maggie said that tomorrow the tea has to be landed,” she explained, “or the local authorities can confiscate it. There’s going to be trouble for sure.”

  “All the more reason to get East Wind out of there,” I muttered. Ahead of us, several soldiers were strolling along the sidewalk, but there was nothing casual in the way they eyed the civilians, all of whom averted their gaze and hurried past. I slouched and kept Sara between me and the soldiers. I’m not sure if that avoided attention or attracted it. The closer to the river we went, the more soldiers we saw until it became difficult to go one block without being surveyed by at least two soldiers. Sara kept chewing on her lips and actually managed to look guilty.

  “Stop looking like you just stole candy from a baby,” I finally ordered. “Just act like you’re walking on your way home.”

  Sara glanced up, her face a mask of indignation as she primly responded, “I would never steal candy from anyone, especially a baby, and I’m not walking home. And who would give candy to a baby anyway?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake …” I began, and then I was interrupted by a loud and authoritative voice booming out behind us.

  “Hey, you! Stop where you are!” a soldier ordered. Several other soldiers came running from various directions toward their comrade. We were surrounded.

  Chapter 16

  As the soldier repeated his command, I froze, and Sara started choking.

  “What do we do?” she weakly hissed between coughs.

  “Come here!” the soldier shouted as he stormed past us and lunged after another man who fearfully held up his hands. “Where are you off to?” the soldier demanded roughly.

  “Come on!” I whispered, releasing my breath in relief. I grabbed Sara by the elbow and pulled her past the soldiers, trying to hurry without looking like we were hurrying. My legs trembled from fear. Sara was mumbling something that sounded like a fervent prayer.

  “That was too close. I don’t think I can take much more of this,” she finally said in a faint voice as we turned a corner and headed downhill. I didn’t bother to respond; anything I could say at that moment would have either been extremely sarcastic (which she wouldn’t understand and that kind of defeats the point) or would be incomprehensible and terrified babbling (again, not much point).

  Ahead of us, the river glistened like a fat, silvery snake basking in the last rays of the setting sun. With a backward glance to make sure we really weren’t being pursued, we veered off the road. Soon we were hiking along the river’s edge in the direction of the prison ship. After a short trek, we reached the place where Sara and Maggie had been hiding behind a bush earlier that day. Squatting down behind the same bush, we studied the scene. There wasn’t much to study. On the prison ship, lanterns were being lit up on deck, while below, there was only darkness. Apart from that, everything was quiet and still. If there was going to be any trouble that night, it looked like it would happen somewhere else.

  “Now comes the fun part,” I muttered.

  “So what’s your plan?” Sara asked eagerly. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

  I cleared my throat. “Well, yes, sort of.”

  “What does that mean?” she demanded, looking both irritated and worried.

  “It means I do have a plan, just not a very … um, concrete one.”

  “Oh. Well, at least a plan is better than no plan!” Sara remarked brightly. I was actually grateful for even that bit of optimism. “So, what is it?”

  “Well,” I said slowly, as if this was a word of absolute wisdom. I didn’t have much of a plan. I glanced about for inspiration and then continued, “First, we have to borrow a rowboat from over there.” I pointed toward a roughly made, decrepit-looking dock downstream. I had only just noticed that there were a few small boats there.

  “Borrow?” she repeated skeptically.

  “Yes,” I stated. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “And what manner of speaking are you using? You mean, you’re going to steal a boat?”

  “No. We just need to borrow a boat for a short time without asking for permission.” I hesitated, and then admitted, “Okay, maybe we do have to steal a boat, but only temporarily, and then we’ll give it back. I promise. No one will know the difference.”

  “We’ll know the difference,” she stubbornly insisted, not looking convinced or impressed.

  “Listen,” I pressed on, “I’m not thrilled about it myself. But either we borrow a boat without permission, swim, or leave East Wind to a really nasty death and lose our chance at finding your dad and brother.” And that was basically it, in a nut shell. I didn’t see how else to do it.

  She nodded her head. “So we temporarily steal a boat. Then what?”

  “Then we’ll go to the next step.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’m still working on it. Come on.”

  Before either of us could wise up and change our minds, I led the way to the sma
ll dock. I couldn’t see anyone around. So, I told myself, we can’t ask for permission anyway, because there’s no one around. So there. That made me feel better. Okay, not really, but moving along … Licking my lips, I crouched low and dashed awkwardly along the dock. Maybe the word “dock” is a little too grand for what I was actually running over. It was really just a narrow strip of planks floating just above the water on barrels. The surface bounced and swayed beneath our feet, water sloshed against the barrels, and the wood creaked noisily in the silence of the night.

  “Ash,” Sara whispered hoarsely, “are you sure …”

  A loud snapping noise made me almost jump, and I spun around to see Sara fall onto the planks as one of her legs disappeared through a hole in the wood. The sound was like a gunshot. A dog started barking fiercely. I glanced over in the direction of the bark, and for the first time noticed a small hut at the edge of the forest; it had been hidden in the gathering shadows of sunset. Either that, or I was really short sighted. A door opened, and light suddenly appeared. An elderly man hobbled to the doorway; in one hand he held a shotgun. This can’t be good, you’re thinking. Well, you’re thinking right.

  “What is it, girl? Do you see somethin’?” The man was talking to his dog. Then, raising his voice, the man called out, “Someone there? Speak up, or I’ll set the dog on you! I have a gun!”

  “Great,” I muttered as I stooped to grab Sara’s arm. “We’re going to be shot and then mauled by a guard dog.”

  “My leg!” Sara groaned.

  “I’m warning you!” the man shouted again. In the silence of the evening, his voice carried far.

  “So much for stealth and surprise,” I gritted through my teeth as I yanked Sara up.

  “You asked for it!” There was a rattle of chains, and then the booming bark of a very large dog completely shattered the quiet of the evening. We could see the dark form jump off of the veranda in front of the hut and scramble over the stony beach. The man hobbled along behind, waving his gun above his head.

  With a final heave, Sara popped up and fell against me. I fell heavily onto the narrow dock. Small waves of cold water splashed against my face. I gasped and coughed as I forced myself up.

  “Come on; move!” I grabbed her arm and dragged her into a run. It was like running on a trampoline.

  “Maybe now we can ask that man for permission to use a boat?” Sara suggested as she stumbled along behind me. Hm, maybe she was picking up on the sarcasm thing.

  “That’s a great idea, Sara, but I think it’s a little too late now.”

  We reached the end of the dock, where several rowboats were moored. Sara scrambled into one of the boats and started setting up the oars, while I fumbled with the mooring ropes. They seemed all tangled up together. I glanced behind. The dog had almost reached the dock, and the man was trotting up the beach.

  Even as she slipped the oars into place, Sara insisted sincerely, “It’s never too late to be honest, Ash.” Okay, maybe she wasn’t picking up on sarcasm after all.

  “Get them, girl!” the man shouted. “Attack! Go!”

  “Fantastic,” I muttered as I pulled at one rope after another. I couldn’t see which rope was attached to which boat.

  “Ash,” Sara said through pursed lips as she saw the dog. “That beast looks really mean.”

  “No, I’m sure she’s really friendly,” I grunted as I started pulling at all the ropes at once. “She just looks and sounds mean.”

  “No,” Sara responded anxiously. “She looks and sounds like she’s going to eat us. Look!”

  Her fear was contagious, and I felt tension locking up my fingers. I glanced up and then stared. The dog had reached the dock, and it thudded onto the wooden planks, causing them to bounce. But that wasn’t what I was staring at. As my breath jammed in my throat, a shadow began to float up and then completely cover the solid form of the dog. Now all I could see was a monstrous, dark form with teeth the size of my forearm.

  With a frantic jerk, I yanked all the ropes free. Not bothering to sort through them to find ours, I threw all the lines toward Sara and pushed the flotilla of four boats away from the dock. As I placed one leg into the boat and used the other leg to push against the dock, the boat rocked back and forth violently from the motion. The dog was howling and foaming at the mouth (no joke) as it reached where I had just been battling with ropes. Its momentum carried it off the dock and toward me. I felt an excruciating pain as a jagged tooth sunk into my leg that was still out over the water.

  “Row, Sara!” I screamed just as the dog fell heavily into the water, its tooth ripping along the length of my leg. Gasping with the pain, I pulled myself into the boat and flopped down on my back. By this time, the old man had reached the shoreline, his shotgun rising up. The dog, now without its shadow, was splashing toward us, but with a few pulls of the oars, the small boat surged ahead, the other boats clattering behind. Then the gun fired off.

  “You little thieves!” the man shouted in frustration as he waved his gun at us while hobbling along the dock.

  “We’re just borrowing the boats, sir! We’ll bring them back, I promise,” Sara shouted back, and then turned to look at my astonished face. “Well, I had to at least try to explain.”

  “Ha ha. You win, okay? Lesson learned—don’t borrow without asking,” I breathed out weakly as I gingerly began to pull up my pant leg, wincing in anticipation. Then my eyes widened in surprise. Although I could still feel the electric pain, there was no sign of damage on either my pants or my leg. But the dog had bitten me; I’d felt it. I still felt it. “The shadow bit me,” I whispered, realizing how ridiculous that must sound to Sara, but she was too busy trying to keep us moving in a straight line. I rubbed the skin where I had felt the tooth; there was nothing apart from a lingering but fading soreness. Only later, in better lighting, did I see the faint, narrow bruise that ran along the length of my calf.

  Determinedly, I shrugged off my worry. Making a mental note (yes, another one) to ask Bibi about it later, I sorted through the ropes. Once I found ours, I tied up the remaining ropes and left the other boats floating aimlessly.

  “We’ll try to collect them on our way back,” I promised an unhappy-looking Sara. “Or if not, hopefully they’ll drift to shore.”

  “Okay,” Sara said without conviction. “It’s your turn to row. So what’s our plan now?”

  I took the oars. “Get to the ship.”

  “And then?”

  “Still working on that part,” I huffed as I pulled at the oars.

  “Right.” Sara turned to face the ship, which loomed up ahead of us. It was an ominous, dark silhouette against the cloudless night sky. The only light we could see was created by the few lanterns on the ship’s deck and the numerous stars that encrusted the darkness above. It was very cold. An icy wind flowed along the course of the river, stinging at our faces. I could no longer feel my ears, and my nose almost burned it was so cold. The air didn’t warm up much as it filled my lungs, and by the time we reached the ship, I was shivering despite the exertions from rowing. Yes, it was that cold.

  We maneuvered about until we found the anchor line, which was conveniently hidden in darkness. As we tied our boat to the line, we could hear murmuring voices from the deck and an ominous silence from the few portholes that were open in the hull. Water gently lapped against the rowboat.

  “Okay, I’m going in,” I stated. I thought I sounded pretty brave, way braver than I was actually feeling. I was sick just thinking about what might lie inside. I started to fade.

  “That’s so strange,” Sara commented, staring at me with a mixture of fascination and fear. “Are you a ghost?”

  “I think we’ve been over this. I’d have to be dead to be a real ghost, and,” I continued hurriedly, “I’m very much alive. At least, for now. I’m more what you’d call a part-time ghost. Just don’t get seen. We’ve had enough attention for the night.”

  The bite of the wind died away, and I could no longer feel the hard
wood bench underneath me. Even better, I couldn’t feel cold; I couldn’t feel anything. And at that moment, I was happy with this state of affairs. Then I could see the rowboat through my legs. I floated upward and willed myself through the hull into what I hoped was one of the last rooms in the corridor.

  It was impenetrably dark inside. I listened intently for breathing, but there was no sound. I moved in the direction of the door and suddenly found myself in the corridor, which was dimly lit by a few lanterns. I solidified and apprehensively tried to open the door to the last room in the corridor. It was unlocked. “East Wind?” From the little light that seeped into the room, I could see there was no one there. I continued to the next room, which was also unlocked. A horrendous smell assaulted my nose. Trying not to cough or breathe, I called again. “East Wind? I really hope you aren’t in there.” Someone whimpered, but there was no other response.

  I decided to try the last room on the other side of the corridor. The door (again unlocked) creaked open. I could see several forms lying on the ground, and one of them stirred and sat up.

  “East Wind, is that you?” I whispered, and then jumped back as a man with gray, stringy hair leaped toward me, hands held out in claws.

  “You monsters! You villains! How could you?” the man shrieked.

  I stifled a scream of surprise and tried to slam the door shut, but the man stuck a foot in the way and hollered as the door crunched into it. Above, footsteps creaked on the deck.

  “Go back to sleep!” I whispered urgently. “Or at least, be quiet! Please!”

  The man was babbling loud and fast, his hands clawing on the edge of the door as he tried to pull it open. It was like a scene from a movie, a horror movie. I maintained my grip on the door handle, but I could feel my palms getting slippery from sweat. I tried to push the man’s foot out of the way with no effect. I heard another door creak open, but before I could look over, someone ran up behind me and pushed forcibly against the door, sending the man inside backward. I quickly pulled the door firmly closed. Although there was no way to lock the door, the man inside seemed to have either regained his senses or collapsed; either way, there was silence from within.