Of course! Of course it’s faulty wiring. Happiness filled my chest. My stomach growled. I was hungry. I thought about the rest of Mrs. Song’s dumplings in the kitchen. We could heat those up and then watch a movie . . . not a scary movie, just a movie. And thank goodness I did not wake up Mrs. Song!
Sunny kept reading.
“‘Have you heard knocking or tapping on your walls? You may have something living in your walls, but that something isn’t necessarily a ghost. It’s most likely a rodent. It may also be a tree branch scraping against the outside walls of your house. Check your basement and attic for critters such as mice, raccoons, squirrels, or bats. Check your exterior walls for branches or anything that might be swinging in the wind and bumping against your home.’”
A raccoon! That’s what the footsteps were. It wasn’t Mrs. Song but a raccoon. It was probably walking around on the roof. Or maybe it got into the attic. Raccoons are so cute, but still, they shouldn’t be in your house.
I’d tell my mom as soon as she got home tomorrow. And I’d tell her that she had to call an electrician too. Mrs. Song’s son was an electrician. And he was really nice. He always gave Sunny and me little toys out of his truck when he visited Mrs. Song. Last time he gave us these little plastic soldier guys with parachutes stuck to them. Sunny and I had so much fun winding up the parachutes into balls around the soldiers, throwing them out of Mrs. Song’s second-floor bathroom window, and watching them float down into her azalea bushes.
The raccoon that is up in the attic probably ate through some wires up there and now our lights are out. All I had to do was tell my mom all about it when she got home. I wondered what Mrs. Song’s son would bring Sunny and me this time.
My stomach grumbled again. Mrs. Song’s dumplings, here we come!
Sunny was still reading.
I tried to pay attention even though all I wanted to do was think about dumplings in salty soy sauce.
“‘Once you have reviewed any maintenance or repairs that your house may need, only then can you consider that you may have a ghost problem.’”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell Mom about the raccoon and the house repairs when she gets home tomorrow. So do you guys want to go eat more dumplings?”
“What raccoon?” asked Junchao.
“I’m not done,” Sunny said. “I didn’t get to the ten warning signs.”
“Warning signs?” I asked.
Sunny read, “‘Below are the ten warning signs to determine if there is ghostly activity in your home. If you have experienced any of these ten warning signs, or more than one, you may not be alone in your home.’”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Junchao.
I didn’t either.
Warning Signs
Warning signs,’” read Sunny. “‘Number one: Items in your home disappear, then reappear frequently.’”
Alice and Junchao looked at me. “Nothing is missing,” I said, kind of excited.
“What about Mommy’s glasses when she was packing up for her conference?” Sunny said.
“She loses those all the time.”
Sunny shrugged.
I heard Junchao gulp.
“What’s the second one?” I asked.
“‘Items or furniture move all on their own,’” read Sunny.
“We’re good on that one,” I said. “Nothing has moved. Next one!”
“‘Number three: You see flashes of light.’”
“No flashes,” I said.
Sunny went to open her mouth.
“That was lightning.”
She shut it.
“What’s the next one?” asked Junchao.
“‘You see shadows moving,’” read Sunny.
Junchao, Alice, and I glanced around the room.
“No shadows,” I whispered, hoping that the ghost didn’t hear me and make a shadow. “So far, so good.” I said. “That’s four. Only six more to go.”
“‘Number five: You feel cold spots in your home,’” Sunny read.
“I was feeling cold before, remember?” said Alice.
“But that was the vein thing, right, Sunny?” I looked at my little sister.
She gave a tiny shrug. “I thought it was.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, glaring at Sunny. “What are you up to?”
“What?” asked Sunny.
“What do you mean, you thought. You never just think anything. You know.”
“No one can know everything,” she said.
I hopped to my knees on the bed. “Sunny Sweet,” I said, “you are totally up to something!” How could I have not seen this before? I looked over at Alice and Junchao. Their eyes were wide as they blinked back at me in the dark. “She’s behind this. Don’t you see it? Don’t you believe me?” I said to my friends.
“How could Sunny have made those footstep sounds or howled?” asked Alice. “She was with us.”
“And she did try to be a ghost. Remember how she hid behind the curtain,” Junchao added. “Plus, she doesn’t even believe in ghosts.”
I narrowed my eyes and frowned at my little sister.
“It says here on the site,” Sunny continued, “‘When we are emotionally stressed out, we attract negative energy to us.’”
“What do you mean?” I growled.
“I know what it means,” said Alice. “My grandmother talks about it all the time. If you only look at the bad things, then sometimes the bad things find you!”
“So you think this ghost is here because I’m not being nice to my sister!” I shouted.
CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.
We all dove under the pillow wall.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” My voice sounded really loud in my own ears under the pillows.
“Well, you did kind of yell at her to go to bed before the movie,” came Junchao’s muffled voice through the pillow.
“And you aren’t that happy with her now, even though she’s helping us,” Alice added.
I couldn’t believe it! My friends were joining in with my little sister against me! “So the ghost is all my fault?” My own hot breath was making my face sweat. I was just about to unbury myself from the pillows and stomp right out of Sunny’s room when . . .
Wooo. Wooo. Wooooo.
Oh no. This ghost was all my fault!
All four of us squished closer together behind our pillow wall.
“Okay,” I said. “Maybe I was a little too forceful about wanting Sunny to go to bed. But you guys have to admit that she wasn’t listening to me and this is my sleepover.”
“That’s a little negative, don’t you think?” said Sunny.
I lunged at her.
Junchao and Alice pounced on top of me, holding me back.
“I hate to point this out, but attacking me is also negative,” Sunny said, hiding a smile.
“You don’t hate pointing it out,” I said, struggling to break free from my friends. “You love pointing it out!”
“Masha,” Junchao said, “she’s right.”
How many times in my life had I heard that statement? One trillion billion times. That’s how many! I broke free from Junchao and Alice, but instead of strangling Sunny, I just growled at her.
“Growling . . . ,” Sunny started. Junchao covered Sunny’s mouth with both her hands.
“It’s okay, Masha,” Alice said. “We don’t care that you brought out the ghost. You’re our friend, and we’re going to help you get rid of it. Right, Junchao?”
“That’s right,” Junchao said. “We’re all in this together.” She took her hands off Sunny’s mouth.
“Yes,” Sunny said. “We’re all in this together.”
I wanted to say that I didn’t bring the ghost. And that maybe it had been Sunny. Or that maybe the ghost had always been here. But I didn’t like the sound of that last idea, and the one before it was probably another negative thing.
Plus, I loved my friends. They were the best friends ever not to abandon me just because I had
an angry ghost following me around. But since I still didn’t trust myself not to say something mega negative about puny Dr. Paranormal, I just said, “Read the next one.”
“‘Number six: You smell things,’” she read.
“Smell things?” I said. “Like pancakes or something?”
“No,” Junchao said. “Like burned rubber.”
“What do you mean?” asked Alice.
“Remember when I said I smelled something?” Junchao grimaced. She looked a little like she’d just shoved a big spoonful of cold lima beans in her mouth. “It was burned rubber. You know, like a car tire was burning. But you guys didn’t smell it. Remember?” She looked a little hopeful.
“I smelled it,” said Sunny.
I looked at Sunny . . . trying to tell if she really had smelled it. “Did you, Alice?” I asked.
“I . . . I don’t . . . maybe I did. I can’t remember,” Alice stammered. “Does burning rubber smell a little like a hot curling iron? My mom is always curling her hair with a curling iron, and I might have smelled something like that.”
“I think it does,” Junchao said glumly.
“I didn’t smell a curling iron,” I said. “And I didn’t smell any car tires either.” But I could tell no one was listening to me, and I could tell that number six was already checked yes by Junchao, Alice, and Sunny.
“Listen,” I said. “There was no moving furniture and no shadows and no flashing lights for sure. And cold spots and disappearing items were only kind-ofs. So really, smelling stuff is only one definite warning sign. And one definite warning sign doesn’t mean we have a ghost. Right?” I looked at Sunny. “Right, Sunny? That’s only one thing so far.”
Sunny looked down at the iPad screen and reread, “‘If you experience any of these ten incidents, especially more than one, this is good evidence to support that you may not be alone in your home.’”
“Okay,” I said. “No one panic.” Unfortunately, it looked like Junchao wasn’t going to listen to me. Her eyes were rolling around in her head, and she was chewing on two fingernails at once. “This is only one. And they said more than one, so we’re good.”
“It does say, especially more than one,” Sunny piped in.
“See.” I looked at Junchao. “Sunny agrees.”
“Well, we still have four left to read,” Sunny said. “But it’s good that you’re being positive now, Masha.”
I sucked in a big breath of air instead of bopping the spawn of the devil right in the head. “Just read the next one,” I said in a high-pitched voice that I hoped sounded positive.
“‘Number seven,” she read. “Have you seen an apparition?’”
“What’s an apparition?” asked Alice. She looked at me. I knew she knew what it was and was just hoping that this wasn’t the answer.
“An apparition is the ghost,” Junchao said. “Did we see the ghost?” Now Sunny looked at me. “Masha?” she asked. “Did you see it in the closet?”
I shook my head.
“You said that you saw it,” Alice said.
“No I didn’t.” I pulled at the neck of my pajamas. It felt a little tight.
“Yes you did,” Junchao said.
“Did I?” My forehead felt sweaty.
“You did,” said Sunny.
“No I didn’t,” I insisted.
I thought about the closet door and how it was opened up just a bit. It had felt like someone was watching me. But the truth was, I didn’t really see anything. I really didn’t. I didn’t see anything! Then my heart felt like birds were singing inside of it. I hadn’t really seen anything!
“NO!” I shouted.
Everyone shushed me.
“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t see anything.”
That was the truth. And now we were another warning sign closer to not having a ghost.
Everyone stared at me in the dark. I couldn’t tell if they believed me or not. But then Sunny read number eight. “‘Do you feel like you’re being watched?’”
My heart fell so deep into my stomach that I swear I heard the thump of it landing. Sunny looked up from the iPad. “Does anybody feel like someone is watching us?”
I kept my mouth shut. Maybe no one had been watching us from the front hall closet. Maybe it was my mom’s umbrella with the big, curvy handle that looked like it was peeking out at me. Or maybe it was just Sunny’s rain boots. They have duck faces on them, and I bet it was those duck eyes that I felt staring out of the closet.
All four of us looked around the room. Sunny’s closet was closed, thank goodness. But there were plenty of dark places in Sunny’s room that could be hiding a spying ghost.
Under her desk, for one.
Or in Sunny’s laundry basket. A ghost could totally be in there watching us from underneath Sunny’s dirty underwear. Although that would be kind of gross.
“I don’t think anyone is watching us,” Alice whispered. “What about you guys?”
Sunny gave a little shrug, and Junchao mumbled that she didn’t think so. I joined in on the end of her mumble. We were almost safe. There were only two more warning signs left. “What’s the next one, Sunny?” I said, trying not to sound too pushy.
“‘Number nine: Do you sometimes hear footsteps?’”
Junchao let out a little gasp, and Alice grabbed my arm.
We were done for.
“Wait, you guys. That’s only two warning signs,” I said.
“But the site says ‘especially more than one,’” Junchao moaned.
“Yes, true, but it also says something about good evidence. Read it again, Sunny.”
Sunny read it again. “‘If you experience any of these ten incidents, especially more than one, this is good evidence to support that you may not be alone in your home.’”
“Oh, oh, oh,” Junchao cried.
“Hold on. It says this is good evidence. It doesn’t say that it’s great evidence. And good isn’t great.” I looked over at Sunny. “Right?” I asked. “Good isn’t great.”
Sunny agreed that good wasn’t great.
“Read the last one. We still have one more.”
Sunny read it. “‘Number ten: Do your lights flicker on and off?’” She looked up at us with a gasp.
Junchao gave a howl and dove under our pillow wall.
Alice and I grabbed hold of each other.
We were not alone in our home!
Ridding Your House of Unwanted Spirits: Just Ask Nicely
So we had a ghost . . .
And it was all my fault . . .
Because I’d been mean to Sunny.
This was supposed to be the most fun night of my entire life. But instead of talking about how cute Michael Capezzi was and eating way too many microwave pizza bites and trying to get Junchao to laugh her crazy Santa Claus laugh, we were stuck on Sunny’s bed hiding from an evil spirit.
“What should we do?” I asked. I was kind of hoping that someone would suggest getting Mrs. Song. It wasn’t like I wanted my best friend to never see another sleepover as long as she lived, but I also didn’t want a ghost to get us.
“We should call the police.” Junchao’s voice was muffled by all the pillows on top of her.
“The police?” I said. I pictured my mother’s cell phone ringing in her conference hotel room. I pictured her sleepy face saying hello. And then I pictured her jumping up out of bed when she heard it was the police calling her from our house. “We are so NOT calling the police!” I said.
“Okay,” said Junchao, still not coming out from under the pillow wall. “Then we have to at least wake up Mrs. Song. Maybe she won’t have to call your mom, Alice.”
Alice moaned. “You said that we were all in this together. If you wake up Mrs. Song then she will definitely call my mom, and I won’t ever be in anything again.”
“But then what should we do?” I whined.
“‘What you should do,’” Sunny read from the website.
Junchao popped her head out from under the wall.
Alice and I looked at each other and then down at Sunny.
“Does it really say that?” I asked.
Sunny nodded her little head.
“Read it,” I commanded. The three of us held our breath as Sunny read.
“‘First of all, do not panic. You do have some control over these situations, and in many cases you can rid these spirits from your home.’”
“Many cases,” Junchao said. “Many is just most of them. It’s not all of them.”
“But most is a good thing,” I said.
“But not a great thing,” noted Sunny.
I ignored her.
“Well, we’re not panicking, right?” I asked.
Junchao and Alice stared at me.
“Right?” I repeated.
My friends mumbled “right,” but not with much enthusiasm.
“You can do better than that,” I said, sounding very much like my science teacher, Mrs. Hull, when no one would come forward to try to answer one of her questions.
Junchao and Alice mumbled “right” again in the exact same dull way.
I huffed. Maybe there was more to being a teacher than getting to use your cell phone when you wanted and being able to drink soda and stuff during class.
Sunny read on, “‘Some ghosts can be pretty moody, and others, just plain irritable and bad-tempered, although in most instances ghosts want to get your attention and let you know that they are there. They thrive on your responses and emotions. Sometimes simply ignoring them will send them on their way.’”
“I like that,” I said. “That sounds easy. Let’s ignore it.”
A flash of lightning blinded me. And before I could blink the light out of my eyes, thunder slammed the room. The four of us clocked heads as we grabbed each other. “Okay!” I yelled out to the ghost. “We won’t ignore you.”
Light thunder rumbled in the distance . . . It was as if the ghost were saying “okay.”
“Masha, this is too scary,” Junchao whispered into my ear.
My stomach ached. I thought so too.
We held on to each other. No lightning. No thunder. Finally we let go and I looked over at Alice. I could see that she was feeling as freaked out as Junchao but wasn’t going to say it.
Sunny continued her research. “This is good, Masha. It says here on the site that when you feel or see their presence, you need to address them.”
Sunny Sweet Is So Not Scary Page 4
