Kindred Spirits

by Phoebe Rivers

  “Nah, I don’t like art at all,” Mason said. “I can’t even draw a stick figure.”

  “What do you like to do?” I did more than art. We had to have something in common.

  “I skateboard. I’m working on a double kick flip. I almost have it.”

  I had no idea what a double kick flip was.

  “That’s sweet!” Lily exclaimed. “Can you do a three-sixty?”

  “Totally. Hey, have you guys seen that skateboard movie, Renegade Rider? It’s amazing.”

  “No,” I admitted. I’d never even heard of it. We went on to compare music and books, too. Totally opposite tastes.

  How could this be? I wondered. What about our connection?

  I’d felt it so strongly in the visions. Now, here, in person, Mason and I were like strangers.

  “You are such a cheater!” Jake’s voice rang out.

  “I am not!” Sammy yelled back. “You never play by the rules. Lily! Lily!”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m the family referee. I’ll be right back. Got to set them straight before the game gets ugly.”

  Lily ran off, leaving me and Mason standing awkwardly together.

  I inspected the orange polish on my toes. I wasn’t sure where else to look. The minty aroma of his gum reminded me just how close he was. I sensed him shifting his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do.

  “Sara! Come play!” Cammie called to me.

  I raised my head and waved. It was the perfect excuse to get away. All I had to do was join the kickball game. Yet I stayed, glued to the spot. Darker clouds now blanketed the sky. Shadows fell around us. Neither Mason nor I spoke.

  He doesn’t like me. I’d been wrong about us. So why did I have a warm feeling? That same sweaty sensation I got when I had a fever?

  The game started up again. Lily played umpire by home plate. Rachel, Mason’s sister, readied herself to kick. Both Mason and I watched the action.

  Walk away, I told myself. If you’re not going to talk to him, just leave.

  But my body wouldn’t obey. Something was going to happen, I could sense it. I always stayed in the theater after a movie finished, watching the credits roll and waiting for a secret funny scene at the very end. I’d force Lily or my dad to remain in their seats too. Lots of times the screen went black without a bonus scene, and the waiting was for nothing. But not all the time. Sometimes, something happened.

  Sammy pitched the red ball across the grass, which was starting to brown in the summer heat. Rachel, tall and athletic like her older brother, pulled back her leg. Her foot connected. The ball soared into the air. Thunder rumbled.

  Mason and I watched the ball arc over the outfield.

  Walk away, I told myself again. He’s not the boy for you.

  I kept watching the ball. A sudden gust of wind twirled it around. The ball veered left, now barreling in our direction. If I didn’t move, it would hit me.

  My legs wouldn’t cooperate. The yard faded into a watercolor of greens. All I could see was the red dot moving faster and faster my way.

  “Hey!” Mason yelled. He dropped the Frisbee just as the ball made another odd turn, and it fell right into his outstretched hands.

  Thunder crashed. Wind shook the leaves on the branches. The first drops of rain fell. I’d never seen a ball twist and turn like that. Rain splattered my skin as the freak storm opened the skies.

  “Game over!” Lily’s dad called. Everyone ran for the house. Inside, a mass of noisy bodies crowded the Randazzos’ kitchen, clamoring for towels and exclaiming over the sudden storm.

  Lily pulled me aside. “He saved you,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “He saved your life. The ball was heading right for you.” Her eyes sparkled. “He must like you.”

  “Oh, come on, Lil. One, my life wasn’t in danger from a rubber ball. Two, he definitely does not like me. Totally dislikes me is more like it.”

  I wanted Lily to be right, though. I wanted Mason to like me.

  There was talk about what to do now that the rain was coming down. Mason told his mom they should go home, but Rachel and Ben wanted to stay and play with Lily’s brothers. In minutes, all the younger kids and Buddy ran upstairs, already planning a massive game of hide-and-seek. Mr. Randazzo led the Meyers into their family room, and Mrs. Randazzo followed with more iced tea and cookies.

  Lily, Mason, and I trailed after them awkwardly.

  “I’m going to take off,” I whispered to Lily.

  “You can’t. Remember the plan?”

  “What plan?” Mason asked.

  “To hang out and watch movies,” Lily said without hesitation, “even though Sara doesn’t like spooky paranormal movies like I do.”

  “I hate them too,” he said.

  Finally we had something in common.

  “You two are so lame.” Lily leaned in, forcing the three of us into a huddle to hear her. Mason stared at the ground. “But listen, speaking of paranormal stuff, I have some awesome news to share.”

  I felt my stomach clench up. What was Lily going to say? It was almost as if Mason sensed my discomfort because he looked pretty uncomfortable himself. Lily didn’t seem to notice.

  “So after all that weird stuff happened in your kitchen, Sar . . .” Lily paused to fill Mason in on what she was talking about, and I frantically tried to figure out how to respond to whatever news Lily was about to share about the spirits in my kitchen.

  “After all that happened I did some research into energy and vibes and stuff,” Lily continued. My stomach unclenched. She wasn’t going to talk about spirits. She was talking about energy. Nothing to worry about there. “Well, it turns out that it totally could have been one of us making all that stuff happen . . . like, with our minds!”

  Lily looked at me expectantly.

  I felt so relieved I could have hugged her on the spot.

  “Lily, it was most definitely not me, so it must have been you!” I said in a joking tone.

  “I had a feeling you’d say that.” Lily grinned at me. “And who knows? Maybe I can do amazing things with my mind! Justin Drexler says in his blog that people can do anything they put their minds to. So I’ve been practicing harnessing the unknown powers of my mind. I’m getting really good! I can almost roll a pen without touching it.”

  “How?” Mason asked, suddenly looking up.

  “With my mind. You can’t believe the concentration it takes.”

  Mason didn’t say anything, but I could tell from his face he thought Lily was a bit odd.

  “Don’t you believe in the supernatural?” she asked.

  “Definitely not.” He jiggled his right leg and tried to give his mom a look to hurry her along. His mom kept her full attention on a story Mr. Randazzo was telling.

  “Well, you have to believe Lady Azura communicated with your dead grandmother to get your family’s stolen jewelry back,” Lily said.

  “Eh, whatever.” Mason shrugged as if he knew better.

  That shrug made me angry. Did he not believe what Lady Azura could do? “That’s the truth,” I insisted.

  “Can you actually prove it?” he countered.

  Of course I could prove it. I wasn’t going to, though. “Not exactly. Lady Azura could.”

  “She’s silly,” he scoffed. “Supernatural stuff is silly.”

  “You are so wrong. Let’s go to Sara’s house, and you can talk to Lady Azura. They live together, you know,” Lily said.

  “Really?”

  “She’s my great-grandmother,” I said proudly. “We can go now. Do you want to meet her? She’s pretty awesome, and—”

  “No, thanks.” He scowled at me.

  Lily sensed the tension. “Guess what? Midnight Manor is reopening in a couple of days. My cousin David, who works there, says it’s going to be twelve times spookier!”

  “Is it still in the same spot on the boardwalk?” Mason asked. Even though he didn’t live in Stellamar, everyone in the surrounding towns visit
ed our boardwalk. We were the only one for miles with rides, arcades, and a haunted house.

  “Exact same spot. They totally updated the haunted house. I’m going on opening day. Do you want to come with me and Sara?”

  “Sure,” Mason said.

  Did he really mean that? I wondered. He definitely didn’t like me. Maybe he liked Lily?

  “It’s a plan.” Lily handed him her cell phone. “Type in your number.” She nudged me. “We’ll give you our numbers too.”

  Mason pulled his phone from the pocket of his baggy shorts and started to hand it to Lily. She crouched down to tie her shoelace, and Mason had no choice but to offer it to me.

  Our pinkies brushed each other.

  At that exact moment, the lights flickered throughout the house.

  “Dave? Dave, where are the flashlights?” Lily’s mom cried. “We’re about to lose power.”

  The lights stayed on. The rain drummed against the gutters.

  I inspected my hand. Had I done something to cause that? The familiar feverish feeling heated up my body.

  We passed around phones and then stood uncomfortably. Mason looked as pained as I felt.

  “Kids, come over and have some cookies and talk to us,” Mrs. Randazzo called.

  I tried to think of an excuse to leave, as we all moved toward the coffee table.

  Then it happened.

  Mrs. Meyer’s tall glass, recently refilled to the brim with the sun-darkened iced tea, tipped over. The dark liquid soaked her white pants and dripped onto her gold sandals.

  Everyone jumped up. Mrs. Randazzo raced to grab a dish towel. Mrs. Meyer acted like the embarrassing splotches staining the thighs of her pants weren’t a big deal. It didn’t take long for the Meyers to make excuses, gather their kids, and say their friendly good-byes.

  The rain stopped as the Randazzo family stood in the front yard with Buddy and waved at the Meyers’ retreating car. I stayed inside and gazed around the family room. The sun peeked through the large window.

  Something wasn’t right.

  That glass hadn’t spilled on its own. And that ball hadn’t changed direction by itself.

  There was a spirit here, somewhere. I was sure of it.

  But why couldn’t I see who it was?

  Chapter 6

  “Wow, Sara, I never realized you were such a slob! You find out new things about your best friend every day, I guess!” Lily exclaimed on Thursday afternoon.

  “I’m not a slob,” I said lamely. That was hard to believe. First the kitchen and now my crafts room. “Things got . . . out of control.”

  Actually, Eleanor and Dwight were the ones out of control.

  The extra room on the third floor that Dad had painted yellow and made into my special place to create was usually so neat and organized. But not with our new house guests poking around all afternoon. Now pom-poms, sequins, foam pieces, and beads spilled from labeled containers. The floor sparkled with glitter.

  Dwight and Eleanor stood arm in arm, inspecting all the framed photographs hanging on the far wall. I hoped they wouldn’t touch them. How would I ever explain moving frames?

  “Is it okay if Buddy’s up here?” Lily held his new blue leash.

  “Yeah, it’s not like he’s going to make it any messier,” I said.

  “Are you ready?” Lily checked out my frayed jean shorts and purple tank. “You don’t look ready.”

  “I’m good. We’re just going to the boardwalk.”

  “But Mason’s coming. He texted me. Well, I texted him and then he texted back, but same thing.”

  “So what? He doesn’t like me.”

  “Don’t be so negative. He’s just warming up to you.”

  “Warm? It felt pretty cold the other day between us.”

  “Things will get hot, hot, hot in the haunted house!” Lily sang, rubbing her hands together and waggling her eyebrows at me.

  I laughed at Lily’s ridiculous gestures. “Oh, please.” Could I get out of it? I didn’t like haunted houses. I had enough spooky stuff here.

  “Let’s go,” Lily said, clapping her hands, unable to hold back her excitement. “Lucky for you, you’re naturally gorgeous, so you can get away with that . . . less-than-spectacular outfit. We have to get a move on! I want to see how they spookified the place. That’s what David said it was—spookified!”

  The boardwalk was Lily’s favorite place. She’d grown up alongside it, and her large family owned half the businesses there, but she never tired of the rides, the Skee-Ball, or the pizza and ice cream. Every trip to the boardwalk was an adventure. I couldn’t back out.

  “Almost ready,” I promised. I tied one last shell onto the wind chimes. Eleanor hovered nearby, ready to dig her hands into my plastic bag of shells. I knotted it closed.

  Then I made a double knot.

  “Buddy, stop pulling.” Lily tugged the leash. Buddy strained against her grip. “What’s with you, boy?”

  Buddy inched forward. His collar pushed into the fur around his neck. His tongue panted wildly. Lily loosened her hold, and Buddy scampered to the closet door. He gave a high-pitched whine, then scratched at it with his paw.

  “Don’t do that, Buddy.” Lily yanked him back.

  Buddy wouldn’t leave the door. His rapid panting grew more urgent.

  Lily turned to me. “What’s in there?”

  Panic bloomed in my lungs. “Just supplies,” I said.

  And the ghost of a young boy.

  Buddy’s whining grew louder. Lily couldn’t pull him away.

  “This is ridiculous.” Before I could react, Lily flung open the closet door.

  There stood the shimmering ghost of Henry.

  I cringed, preparing for disaster.

  Even Eleanor and Henry stopped peeking under the table to watch.

  Henry dropped to his knees and hugged Buddy. The dog’s tail swished happily. His whining and panting stopped. Henry rubbed behind his ears as Buddy curled up at his feet.

  Lily yanked the cord that dangled from the ceiling. A single bare bulb lit the shelves of crafting supplies my dad had just installed in the small walk-in closet. “Buddy, what’s wrong with you? There’s nothing here.”

  “Maybe he likes the smell of glue,” I offered.

  “I thought maybe he sensed something in your house.” Lily sounded disappointed.

  “Sensed what?”

  Otherwordly things. I’ve read that dogs are sometimes really in tune with paranormal stuff. I thought maybe Buddy was, and he was sensing something. But I think you’re right . . . it’s probably just the glue.”

  I was trying to figure out how to respond to that when my dad poked his head in the room, providing the perfect distraction.

  “Hey, Mr. C.! I like your new haircut!” Lily grinned at my dad.

  “My summer look.” My dad patted his closely cropped sandy curls. “I get sheared in the summer. Just like you, Buddy boy.” He bent down to pat Buddy’s furry head.

  For a moment, my dad’s and Henry’s hands rested side by side.

  “Lily and I were going to the boardwalk. Midnight Manor just reopened,” I said. “Is that okay?”

  “What about this mess?” His brows knit together, deepening the crease between his eyes.

  “I promise I’ll clean it when I get home. Really and truly.” I crossed my heart with my finger.

  “Okay, kiddo. Deal. What about Buddy boy here?”

  “I have to watch him today,” Lily said.

  “A haunted house is no place for a dog. I’m doing some repairs around here before dinner. How about you leave Buddy with me? I could use a canine assistant.”

  “Wow! That would be great.” Lily offered my dad the leash.

  “No!” Henry wailed. A voice only I could hear.

  “One sec,” Dad said to Lily. “Let me change out of my office clothes. I’ll be back for Buddy boy.” He hurried down to his bedroom on the second floor.

  Lily turned to me. “I’m going to use your bathroom. Watch
Buddy, okay?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed Buddy’s leash as Lily headed downstairs.

  “Doggie!” Henry cried again. He wrapped his arms protectively around Buddy. Buddy’s tail wagged.

  I had no idea whether Buddy could see Henry, but the dog definitely knew Henry was there. And Henry was so calm with Buddy.

  Could I let Henry hang out with Buddy and my dad? I wouldn’t be gone too long, and Henry would be so happy.

  No way. It would be crazy to leave mischievous Henry out with no one to watch him.

  But he’d have a meltdown if I tried to get him back inside the closet.

  What to do? Lily and Dad would be back soon.

  That was when I spied Eleanor running her hands over my computer keyboard. That was when I had my great idea.

  The line to get into Midnight Manor snaked all the way to the arcade.

  “We’ve been here twenty minutes and barely moved,” Miranda Rich complained to us as we arrived and took our place in line behind her. Avery Apolito, Luke Goldberg, Garrett Moscato, and Nate Liu stood together toward the middle of the line.

  “I’m talking to David.” Lily hurried to find her cousin, who was working at the haunted house this summer.

  The rest of us watched the tourists line up to play games of chance.

  “That one’s new,” I said, pointing to the nearest booth. A teenage boy with shaggy hair and a peeling sunburn monitored a softball toss. Three milk bottles were stacked in a pyramid atop a platform. The object was to knock all three bottles down with one throw of the ball.

  “I’ve been watching it,” Luke reported. “It doesn’t seem like a trick. You just have to whack the bottles at the right spot to make them all fall.”

  We discussed strategies. Many games on the boardwalk were designed to be nearly impossible to win. We all knew the darts had blunt tips and the balloons were underfilled, making the chance of popping them almost zero. And we stayed away from the basketball throw, because the hoops were slightly oval instead of round. No way a ball was going in.

  “Look at that big green bear!” Avery squealed, waving at the grand prize hanging from the ceiling of the softball-toss booth. “That’s probably the best prize on the boardwalk.”