by Patti Larsen
Ghost Boy of MacKenzie House © 2012 by Patti Larsen.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency.
P.O. Box 22024
Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island
C1A 9J2
acornpresscanada.com
Edited by Marianne Ward
eBook design by Joseph Muise
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Larsen, Patti, 1971-
Ghost boy of MacKenzie House / Patti Larsen.
ISBN 978-1-894838-89-4
I. Title.
PS8623.A7725G46 2012 jC813’.6 C2012-901105-3
The publisher acknowledges the support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund of the Department of Canadian Heritage, the Canada Council for the Arts Block Grant Program and the support of the Province of Prince Edward Island.
To all young writers who ever dreamed.
Yes, you can.
Chloe watched the men in the blue coveralls put the last of her bags in the back of the car, slamming the trunk with an echoed complaint of finality. She refused to look back over her shoulder at the neat two-storey that had, up until that moment, been her home her entire ten years of life. She didn’t want to look because she knew if she did she would cry the whole way to Prince Edward Island.
Aunt Larry (short for Laverne, a name that always made Chloe’s dad laugh) descended the steps behind Chloe, the solid clomp of her comfortable shoes sounding like approaching doom. Chloe knew what came next. Part of her wanted it, if only to escape the grief and disaster that her life had turned into. The other wanted to run back inside her old house, slam the door, and never come out.
“Ready?” Aunt Larry looked so much like Chloe’s dad it made her heart hurt. Aunt Larry was tall, almost as tall as Patrick had been. Her hair was the same brown as his and Chloe’s, her eyes an identical sea green. She even had their dusting of freckles across the nose. Chloe’s skin was naturally darker because of her mom, Sophie, but otherwise she could have been Larry’s daughter.
Chloe found she couldn’t speak. Instead, she followed her aunt the last few steps to her hatchback and climbed in the back seat. The door thudded shut next to her—the soft breeze and hum of traffic on the highway a few houses over hushed to a muffled sigh. Chloe kept her eyes on her lap, locked on the slim silver bracelet that her parents had given her for her birthday, the last gift they would ever give her. She ignored the brief interruption as Aunt Larry climbed in the driver’s seat, the silence returning with the closing of her door.
“Are you okay back there, honey?” Aunt Larry’s eyes were the only thing Chloe could see when she glanced up at the rear-view mirror.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The engine hummed to life. As they pulled away from her old life, Chloe had a moment of absolute panic. What if they weren’t really gone? What if they were waiting for her in the house and she didn’t see them because she wouldn’t look?
Chloe pressed her forehead against the cool glass and stared at the empty silence of her living room picture window and felt the tears she struggled to keep inside pour out over her face. They weren’t there. She was alone.
Chloe sobbed to herself for a long time while Aunt Larry passed her tissues over the seat.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Chloe had the perfect life. Her mom, Sophie, stayed at home with her while her dad, Patrick, worked for one of the government ministers on Parliament Hill. Chloe never paid attention to which one. It didn’t matter to her. Besides, her father didn’t talk about work anyway, saying it was top secret and winking at her like he was a secret agent or something.
She had lots of friends, some of them from far-off countries, kids of diplomats who were in Canada while their parents worked at embassies in Ottawa. Chloe loved the activity of her street, the many kids who lived there, and the busy park at the end of her block where she spent a lot of her free time.
Life was wonderful and they were very happy.
Chloe snuffled back the last of her tears and blew her nose into a fresh tissue. She wadded up the soggy mess and stuffed it into the plastic bag Aunt Larry handed her.
“Feel better?” Aunt Larry asked.
Chloe shrugged. Her eyes were burning, her chest tight. She felt like she had run a dozen races in track and field without stopping, but worse because it was more like she was running from something rather than to something.
They stopped that night at a small hotel just inside the border of New Brunswick. She climbed into the queen-sized bed in the ordinary hotel room and tried to sleep over the sound of the air conditioner and Aunt Larry’s snoring.
Chloe slid out of bed and went to her bag. She fished out a small photo of her parents and snuck into the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet, knees to her chest, hugging her legs while she studied the picture. She felt the now familiar burn of tears rising and the heaviness in her chest. She bit her lower lip and scrunched up her face to hold it in without success. The sadness passed, as did the tears, but it took quite a while.
Chloe went back to bed, holding her mom and dad in her hand under her pillow to keep them close, at last falling into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Chloe was feeling very alone that night when Sophie bent to kiss her forehead.
“Dad and I just need a night out to ourselves every once in a while,” Sophie told her. Patrick kissed her, too, and they smiled at her as they swept out the door, Sophie’s mocha skin glowing in the red dress she wore, Patrick handsome as ever in a suit and tie.
Chloe hated being left out. So when her babysitter Amanda asked her if she wanted to watch a movie, Chloe sulked and went to her room instead. She knew it wasn’t right, but she wanted them to come home so much, she got herself worked up to tears. By the time Amanda found her, Chloe was crying so much she had made herself throw up.
“Baby, are you okay?” Sophie’s voice was sweet on the phone. Chloe begged her to come home. She could hear the babysitter telling her parents that she was sick and hoped they listened.
“They’re on their way,” Amanda told her.
It took so long for them to get back, Chloe was dozing on the couch when Amanda got up and went to the door. Chloe could hear the heavy patter of rain on the side of the house as she dragged herself to her feet and went to follow, surprised to find Amanda with tears on her face and a grim police officer looking at her with regret.
Aunt Larry tried to stir up some excitement on the drive.
“Here’s the bridge,” she said, pointing in the distance. Chloe looked, feeling obligated. A thin grey line stretched out above the water as the Confederation Bridge that linked Prince Edward Island to the mainland rose up from the edge of the world.
“Cool,” Chloe whispered, going back to her misery.
Still, as they drove across the huge expanse, Chloe felt herself perking up. She had never seen the ocean before. It was a deep blue, almost grey, with some greenish and white parts. Sea birds hovered over it while a sailboat bobbed and swayed in the distance. Chloe found herself straining to see over the edge of the railing, too high to catch more than glimpses now and then.
Aunt Larry must have noticed. “We’re coming to the middle,” she said. “The view is better. Look.”
Chloe did. Stretched ahead of her was the rest of the grey ribbon they rode. The water went to the horizon
on both sides. And in their path was the red shore of Prince Edward Island. Chloe watched the Island get closer and closer and felt Ontario get farther and farther away. As the car cleared the last of the bridge and drove back onto land, Chloe sat back and felt the sobs rise again.
Chloe was so confused. The officer was wrong. But Cliff and Laura Connell, Sophie and Patrick’s best friends, arrived so Amanda could go home. Laura made Chloe pack a bag so she could go with them, but Chloe didn’t want to go. She had to wait for her mom and dad. They would be home from dinner and Sophie would worry if she wasn’t there.
It took Aunt Larry’s arrival for Chloe to admit her parents were gone. That the car accident was real, that they were never coming back, and it was all her fault. She was sure her body would run out of water to make tears, but Aunt Larry told her as she crouched in front of her to hug her that she needed those tears to make herself better.
Chloe didn’t think she would ever be better.
Aunt Larry worked fast. The funeral was small and private, for which Chloe was glad. She wasn’t sure how she ended up holding Aunt Larry’s hand but she was grateful to have her there. Especially when the minister talked about how Sophie and Patrick were in a better place. That made Chloe sob so hard she thought she would die, too.
The only time she yelled at Aunt Larry was when she found out the house had been sold two days later. Aunt Larry listened to her with great calm and patience, then told Chloe she couldn’t stay there by herself. Aunt Larry took her to the computer and showed her pictures of Prince Edward Island.
Chloe didn’t want to get out of the car. She knew she had to, but she was putting it off as long as possible. She kept her eyes down on her lap, on her fingers that twisted the slender silver bracelet around and around. The interior of the car was that mixture of hot from the sun and weird cold from air conditioning. She had a headache from it. Aunt Larry got out. The strange air in the car whooshed out the driver’s door as she left. It got hotter than was comfortable, but Chloe didn’t care. Getting out of the car, setting foot on Prince Edward Island for the first time, meant that it was all real and she was never going home again.
Her door opened on its own. Aunt Larry loomed, blocking the sun far to the west. Chloe caught the scent of her aunt’s lilac perfume and thought of her mother.
“We’re here, honey,” Aunt Larry said. “Time to unpack.”
Chloe nodded instead of speaking. Aunt Larry left her, but didn’t close the door. Chloe could feel a soft breeze ruffle her brown bob. Sophie loved her hair. So much like her father’s. Sophie’s was black and curly and she was always fighting with it. Chloe wished for it herself, as well as her mom’s soft mocha skin and chocolate-brown eyes.
Aunt Larry was talking to someone. Chloe let her eyes drift from the pebbled carpet beneath her feet to the view of the ground outside her door. Green grass waved at her. She could hear a humming sound, now that she was paying attention. It came and went in slow motion. Despite herself, Chloe looked up.
The sky was deep blue and very clear, starting to turn pink and red and gold along the edges of the west. The grass was vivid green, the driveway they sat on a deep, rich reddish brown like in the pictures Aunt Larry had shown her. A huge white house stood on the edge of nowhere, looking out over the blue ocean.
Chloe undid her seat belt and spun sideways. She dangled her pink flip-flops over the grass, debating. A soft yellow butterfly drifted toward her, settled on her big toe for a moment, then drifted off. Chloe let out her breath. She slid the silver chain around her wrist one last time and got out.
The grass was soft under her sandals. She took a step forward. The fresh air was nice after the confines of the car. Her headache was going away, even. Aunt Larry was speaking with one of the movers. Behind him was a younger man who winked at Chloe and tipped his ball cap to her, his back against the side of the white moving van. Chloe hugged herself and looked at the house. It had been freshly painted at some point, the white almost glowing against the deep black of the shutters. The front door was a lovely shade of green very close to the colour of the grass. Flowers bordered the small wide step that led to it. Just to its right was another set of stairs, these more modern, leading up to a deck that filled in the front corner of the house. The house was otherwise square, except for the third floor that was half a storey.
Chloe smelled lilacs again and spotted the bushes at the side of the house. Her mom’s favourite. They had a bunch back home in Ottawa. Chloe shied from the memory of their split-level on their quiet street.
Off to the left, Chloe saw a farmhouse and a cluster of barns on the other side of a field. Turning slowly, she looked back the way they had come, as though she could see all the way home. Instead, she saw a big old barn, grey and weathered, and the winding red lane that went from the house on and on into the trees that bordered Larry’s property before it disappeared on its way to the road.
Chloe continued her rotation. A freshly planted field of rich red earth ran along the trees across the upper corner of the property, beyond which was another field, overgrown with old weeds waving in the breeze. Further to her left, she spotted what looked like a decrepit cottage, just barely visible through the tall, swaying grass.
Aunt Larry was standing next to her when she finished with her circle. Chloe tried to smile, but it was hard.
“What do you think?” Chloe knew Aunt Larry was trying, had been trying since arriving in a hurry two weeks ago. She hadn’t done much trying herself, but Aunt Larry understood.
“It’s nice,” she managed, voice soft. “I like your lilacs.”
“Did you want to take a look around first?” Aunt Larry asked. “I have to tell the movers where to put your things.”
“Okay,” Chloe said.
Aunt Larry turned and pointed at the edge of the world that led to the water. “Just watch the cliff,” she said.
Chloe wandered away from the car, hesitant at first. Not that she wasn’t used to grass and fresh air, but it was different here. In Ottawa there were giant trees everywhere and lots of buildings. Neighbours were close by and you had to drive for hours to get to a lake to swim in. Chloe had never seen so much open space, felt such quiet. There were trees, but they were at the far edge of the expansive property. A row of big maples stood close to the house on the right, but otherwise the land was cleared. The lawn was huge and nicely cut.
She made her way along the left side of the house, drawn to the cliff and the water. Chloe ignored the lilac bushes with purpose and kept moving. She looked up as she passed the back part of the house, the big windows too high for her to see much inside. Chloe thought of her mom again. Sophie would love it here. She adored old stuff like this. Chloe bit her bottom lip hard to keep from crying.
The sea drew her onwards. The closer she got, the louder the humming became until it was a dull booming sound. The smell was amazing, fresh and tangy. It made her feel good. Chloe slowed as she drew close and crept forward as far as she dared. On the edge, she looked down.
The ocean was so loud! There were rocks below her, the waves throwing themselves against the shore. This was the source of the sound she had heard. She hadn’t expected water to make so much noise. She had thought the surface was calm when she had seen it from a distance. Now she could see the whitecaps that gathered as the waves neared the shore. It was a marvelous sound. She could almost feel it through her feet as the waves hit the cliff. Chloe immediately loved the ocean.
The sun had begun its final descent. The sky in the west was a warm red and pink, and when she looked back toward the water, she saw that the deep red cliffs were glowing from it.
Cool, Chloe thought. Dad would love this.
She shuddered at the thought. Patrick’s camera would be out, clicking and clicking as he captured every moment of it. She could almost see him beside her, laughing, eyes smiling. Chloe drew a wavering breath and looked away. When she did, her
eyes caught movement below. She hadn’t realized that there were kids on the rocks.
Chloe remembered Aunt Larry had said there were other kids around. She had expected to spend the summer alone. One of them looked up and saw her. He started waving. Without thinking, Chloe waved back. He scrambled away from the others and started up a rickety wooden staircase she hadn’t noticed until that moment.
Chloe felt panic rise inside her. She wasn’t ready to make friends or meet anyone. She wanted to go back to the car and close the door and have Aunt Larry drive her back to Ottawa and her old house and old friends. Chloe almost ran, but it was too late. By the time she was able to get her mind to connect to her feet, the boy was already there.
He was a little taller than her and very skinny, his hands and feet filthy, stained red by the dirt. He was dressed in dark blue swim trunks, narrow chest heaving from the climb. He had so many freckles on his whole body that they almost covered him. Where he wasn’t freckled, he was either very pale or bright red and peeling. His greenish-hazel eyes were fringed with red lashes, his hair the same bright orangey shade that reminded her of carrots. Chloe had never seen that colour hair before.
“Hi!” He bent at the waist, hands on his knees as he panted through his grin. “You’re Chloe!”
She didn’t move or speak. Turned out, she didn’t have to. He went right on going.
“I’m Marshal MacKenzie, but everybody calls me Marsh. We live next door.” He pointed across a field to the white house she’d seen earlier, surrounded by small barns and buildings. “Those are my brothers and sisters.” He tossed his head over his shoulder at the other kids below. “I know about you because our mom and Larry are friends.” He grinned with easy good nature, chattering on. “She told us you were coming here to live. Must be a big change from Ontario. Mom got us to look up where you’re from on the Internet. She’s been promising Niagara Falls ever since.” He made a “yeah, right” kind of face as though used to disappointment. “I’m really happy you’re here. There’s nobody else around my age. Everybody is either older or younger. We’re in the same grade!” His mind seemed to jump from thought to thought. Chloe felt overwhelmed by him but was grateful he was so talkative so she didn’t have to say anything. “That’s great! We can go on the bus together. I hate the bus, but it will be better if we’re together.” He seemed to be assuming they would be friends. He paused, head cocked to the side, shining red curls hanging over his eyes. She realized with a start he was expecting some sort of answer.
