The Boxcar Children Halloween Special

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “I don’t know — I didn’t even notice it until now,” Jessie said.

  She pulled open the door and peered into the darkness. “No garbage can. But there’s a staircase going up. Who wants to come with me?”

  First there was silence, then Benny said, “I’ll go,” but his voice was just a little shaky.

  Slowly Benny and Jessie walked up the flight of stairs. It was very dark, and Benny hung onto Jessie’s hand tightly. They came to another door at the top of the stairs and Jessie opened it. They were in one of the bedrooms. She laughed. “It just leads up to the second floor.”

  “I thought so,” Benny said.

  Jessie lightly poked his arm. “I’ll bet,” she said.

  The Aldens spent the afternoon working. Henry and Jessie scrubbed the kitchen. Violet dusted the living room and dining room, and Benny weeded the garden. After a couple of hours, they all admitted they were tired.

  “Let’s go home,” Benny said.

  “Yes, let’s,” Violet agreed.

  They neatened up the cleaning supplies, carefully locked the back door, and went out the front door. They locked that, too.

  Mr. Farley was in his yard mowing the lawn. He stopped when he saw the Aldens come out. “What have you been doing?” he asked.

  “Cleaning and weeding,” Benny answered. “So when our cousins move in, they won’t have as much work to do.”

  “So, they are buying it,” Mr. Farley said. “Foolish people. There is never enough room in one house for real live people and a ghost.”

  “We don’t believe in ghosts,” Jessie said.

  “You will,” the old man answered. “When you hear Celia Roth singing, you’ll believe in ghosts.”

  “Did you know her … Celia?” Violet asked timidly.

  “I did,” Mr. Farley replied. “I was just a boy when she lived here, but I remember her well. She was a beautiful, sweet girl. Maybe you’ll see her someday, when you’re in the house.”

  “Mr. Farley,” Henry said, “I don’t think we will.”

  Mr. Farley laughed. “We’ll see,” he said.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Singing

  When the children reached home, they all went into the den and sat down. “You know,” Jessie said, “I wonder whether Mr. Farley is deliberately trying to scare us. He talks about the ghost so much.”

  “Why would he want to scare us?” Violet asked.

  “I have no idea,” Jessie replied. “I just wonder. It seems strange to me.”

  “He isn’t very nice, if he’s trying to scare children,” Benny said.

  “I can’t think of any reason why he’d do that,” Henry said.

  Jessie sighed. “I guess you’re right. But that would mean he really believes there is a ghost.”

  “Maybe there is,” Benny said.

  “No,” Henry said, “that’s impossible.”

  But Benny was not convinced.

  The Aldens went back to the house the next morning determined not to think about ghosts.

  Henry started painting the porch railings. Violet and Benny got scissors and paper to line the drawers in the kitchen.

  Jessie went upstairs to dust away the cobwebs in the bedrooms. Out one of the windows Jessie caught a glimpse of a man standing across the street, staring up at the Roth house. She stepped away from the window so he couldn’t see her, and then peeked out again. The man was still staring at the house.

  Jessie ran down the stairs and went outside to Henry. “Look at that man across the street,” she said to her brother.

  Henry stopped painting and gazed at the man. Even though now the two children were looking at him, the man never moved.

  “Let’s go talk to him,” Jessie said.

  “What can we say?” Henry asked.

  Jessie grabbed Henry’s hand. “Come on,” she said.

  They walked across the street and Jessie said to the man, “Hi. Can we help you? You’ve been standing here quite a while.”

  The man frowned. “What’s happening to this house?” he asked gruffly.

  Henry smiled. “Do you know the Roth house well?”

  “I’m Thomas Yeats,” the man said. “I’m an artist. I’ve been working on a large picture of the Roth house. It’s going to be my finest painting. I’ve been working on it for months, but it’s not finished yet. So no one can change the look of the house.”

  Henry said, “Our cousins are moving in here in a few weeks. They may change the house quite a bit.”

  Tom Yeats’s voice was cold. “They can’t. They can’t make all my hard work useless. I’ll put a stop to that.” His eyes were blazing with fury. He turned and swiftly walked away.

  “Wow!” Jessie said. “He was angry.”

  Jessie and Henry went into the house and told Violet and Benny what had happened. “That Mr. Yeats was really mad,” Henry said.

  “If the house starts to look different, can’t the man just paint another picture?” Benny asked.

  Violet shook her head. “Artists aren’t like that,” she answered Benny. “If Mr. Yeats has worked hard on that painting for a long time, he wants to finish it, not start something new.”

  “He sure was upset,” Jessie said, remembering the sound of Mr. Yeats’s voice.

  Benny got bored with Mr. Yeats. “I have a good idea,” he said. “Let’s eat lunch out on the porch. I’ll get the food Mrs. McGregor fixed for us this morning.”

  “Good idea!” Henry said. “I’ll help you.”

  The Aldens all went into the kitchen, got the picnic basket Mrs. McGregor had packed, and took it out onto the porch. Henry spread newspapers on the floor, and the children sat down. From the picnic basket they took paper plates and cups, turkey sandwiches, purple plums, cookies, and a thermos of lemonade. They began to eat.

  Suddenly they heard a voice coming from the house. Someone was singing! It was a girl, singing sweetly. The Aldens all stopped eating and listened. The voice was louder now, coming from upstairs. Henry jumped up and went to the door, and the others followed him.

  “Who is it?” Benny asked, his voice quivering.

  “Mr. Farley talked about Celia Roth singing,” Violet said, moving closer to Jessie. Her eyes were wide.

  “That can’t be!” Jessie said.

  “But who is singing?” Henry asked.

  As suddenly as it had started, the singing stopped. Benny breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m going to see what’s going on,” Henry said, heading toward the stairs.

  “I’ll go, too,” Jessie said.

  “I’m not staying here alone,” Benny whispered.

  “Me either,” Violet added.

  So all four Aldens went upstairs and tiptoed from room to room.

  “There’s nothing here,” Jessie said.

  “It must have been a radio,” Henry said.

  “But there isn’t a radio in the house,” Violet pointed out.

  “And who turned it on if there was one?” Benny asked.

  The Aldens were silent. There didn’t seem to be any answers to the questions.

  “Let’s go home,” Benny said firmly.

  Jessie looked at Benny and Violet’s worried faces and said, “We did a lot this morning. I think we should leave the house until tomorrow.”

  “Good!” Benny said.

  The Aldens walked back downstairs and onto the porch. They finished eating their lunch, though no one was very hungry. Then they began to clean up the porch. They stopped their work when Mrs. Carter came up the walk.

  “I just thought I’d see if I could help you,” she said, smiling.

  “We’re just leaving,” Jessie replied. “But thank you.”

  Mrs. Carter stared at the house with a funny expression on her face. “Mr. Carter and I would have bought this place and the property, but we couldn’t afford it. I guess your cousins could.” She looked longingly at the house.

  “What does ‘afford’ mean?” Benny asked.

  “It means having eno
ugh money to buy something,” Mrs. Carter answered. “I envy your cousins.”

  Violet felt sorry for Mrs. Carter and a little unhappy. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter. But you’ll like Joe and Alice.”

  Mrs. Carter smiled now. “Don’t let me keep you. You seemed to be packing up. Knock on my door if I can help you anytime.” She left.

  The Aldens watched her walk away. Then Benny said, “Maybe she was the lady singing.”

  Jessie smiled. “Benny, she wasn’t in the house. It couldn’t have been Mrs. Carter.”

  Benny looked disappointed.

  Henry said reassuringly, “It was probably a radio turned on somewhere. There are houses all around us. It just sounded as if it was coming from upstairs.”

  That night after everyone was in bed, Henry knocked on Jessie’s door. She called out, “Come in.”

  Henry sat down on Jessie’s bed. She looked up from her book.

  “Jessie, things are sure funny at the Roth house,” Henry said.

  “You don’t believe there’s a ghost, do you?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” Henry said. “But something is going on. Mr. Farley keeps talking about ghosts. Mr. Carter doesn’t want neighbors. Mr. Yeats is angry. Shades fall off windows. A girl is singing in the house, when there is no girl there.”

  Jessie thought for a minute. “None of what you said means anything is wrong. I’m sure all those things can be explained.”

  “But how?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jessie said. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  Henry nodded. “I guess you’re right.” He smiled. “ ’Night, Jessie.”

  After Henry left, Jessie sat very still and thought, Henry is right. Something is funny at the Roth house.

  CHAPTER 4

  The Argument

  In the morning none of the Aldens felt like going right to the house.

  Benny said, “Can’t we go somewhere else first? We can clean in the afternoon.”

  “Benny’s right,” Violet said.

  Jessie thought for a minute and then said, “I know. Let’s go to the lake in the park. We can swim and then go to the house.”

  “Great!” Henry agreed.

  “I think we should stop at the bakery first and buy some jelly doughnuts,” Benny said.

  Henry laughed. “Okay, Benny, we can do that.”

  The children biked into town and went to the bakery. Joan Bernstein, a tall, blonde woman who owned the shop, smiled when the Aldens came in. She looked away from the customer she was waiting on and said, “Hi, Aldens. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  She finished putting chocolate cookies into a bag and then said, “I think you children should meet Terry Evans.” She gestured toward her customer, who was a short red-haired woman. “Ms. Evans is writing a book about the history of Greenfield.”

  “Is Greenfield that important?” Benny asked.

  Ms. Bernstein nodded. “This town goes way back to colonial times.”

  Terry Evans smiled at the Aldens. “Have you all lived here very long?” she asked them.

  “Since our grandfather found us and brought us here,” Benny answered.

  Ms. Evans laughed and started to leave the store.

  “The Aldens’ cousins have bought that old Roth house,” Ms. Bernstein said. “The children are cleaning it up for them. Everyone in town is talking about how helpful the kids are.”

  Terry Evans turned to the Aldens. “Oh,” she said. “I hear that’s a very interesting house. Can you tell me about it?”

  “We don’t know that much,” Jessie said hesitantly.

  “You must know something,” Ms. Evans insisted.

  “Just that Mr. Farley says it’s haunted,” Benny said.

  “But we know that’s silly, of course,” Henry added.

  “Is it?” Ms. Evans asked. She looked at the children mysteriously. Then she said, “I have to go now, but I’d like to talk to you all again.” Then she left.

  Benny looked after her. “She liked us, I think. She wants to talk to us again.”

  “Yes, but why?” Henry asked. “We told her we don’t know much about the house.”

  “She’s just a very curious woman,” Joan Bernstein said. “Now, what can I give you children?”

  “Jelly doughnuts,” Benny answered. “We’re going to take them to the park.”

  Violet got four small containers of orange juice from the cooler, and Ms. Bernstein put the doughnuts, juice, and straws into a bag. The Aldens paid her and went out to their bikes. “Be careful at the lake,” she called after them.

  “We will,” Violet called back.

  When they reached the park, they sat on the grass under a tree. The shimmering lake was only a few yards from them.

  Benny opened the paper bag and gave his brother and sisters a doughnut. Violet passed around the juice and straws. They sat contentedly and ate their snack, watching three teenagers playing in the lake.

  They waited a little while after they had finished eating. Then they stripped down to the bathing suits they had on under their clothes. They ran to the lake and swam and splashed. Benny stayed near the shore. The Aldens kept their eyes on each other while they swam.

  When they finally ran out of the water, they dried themselves and lay on the grass, talking softly. Suddenly, very close by, they heard loud voices. Under a nearby tree were Mr. Farley and Thomas Yeats. They hadn’t seen the Aldens.

  “I’ll never do that. Never!” Mr. Farley cried out.

  “I’m willing to pay you,” Thomas Yeats said.

  “No! It’s not about money. I won’t do it,” Mr. Farley insisted.

  “Forget it!” Mr. Yeats said, and he strode away. In a few seconds Mr. Farley left, too.

  “Wow!” Violet said.

  “What was that all about?” Jessie asked.

  “What do you suppose Mr. Yeats wanted Mr. Farley to do?” Henry asked.

  “Whatever it was, he was willing to pay for it,” Violet said.

  “Mr. Farley was certainly definite,” Jessie said.

  “It’s a mystery!” Benny said, smiling.

  “It sure is,” Violet agreed.

  When the Aldens got to the house later that day, Terry Evans was sitting on a porch step. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions,” she said.

  “Oh,” Jessie said. “What kind of questions?”

  “About the house, of course,” Terry replied. “Do you know anything about the girl who used to live here … Celia Roth?”

  “The girl who disappeared?” Benny asked eagerly.

  Terry nodded.

  “We don’t know anything at all,” Violet answered.

  “This house should really be a Greenfield landmark,” Ms. Evans said. “With its strange history, no one should be allowed to buy it.”

  “What history?” Benny asked.

  “Well,” Terry said, “I’ve heard a number of people lived here after the Roths left. But no one stayed long. For whatever reasons, they left fairly quickly. Ghosts, you know.” She smiled slyly, waved, and left.

  Mr. Farley, who was back in his yard, walked over to the Aldens. “Why’s that woman snooping around?” he asked. “She sure asks a lot of questions.”

  Henry wanted to ask Mr. Farley what he and Mr. Yeats had been arguing about. But he didn’t want Mr. Farley to think they’d been eavesdropping. Instead he asked, “Mr. Farley, how long did Mr. Roth stay after Celia disappeared?”

  Mr. Farley thought for a minute. “Just a few months. He was mysterious. Wouldn’t talk about Celia at all. He just left Greenfield.”

  “Ms. Evans said other people lived here,” Jessie said.

  Mr. Farley nodded. “Yes, a few families bought the house, lived here a short time, and then left. It’s been empty now for a good twenty years. The only thing left from the Roths is an old bed, that big old desk upstairs, and some boxes of old books.”

  “When did Celia disappear?” Jessie asked.

  Mr. Farley s
aid, “I remember it all well. I was only ten years old, but some things you don’t forget. It was the summer of 1917. August, it was. A hot day in August and, poof, she just vanished. But I know she came back … to the house … for some reason … or at least her ghost did.”

  Henry laughed. “Come on, Mr. Farley. We just don’t believe that.”

  The Aldens went into the house and sat down on the floor.

  “What do you think happened to Celia?” Jessie asked.

  “Maybe she was kidnapped,” Violet said.

  “Or she might have drowned in the lake,” Henry suggested.

  “Maybe Celia ran away, just like we did,” Benny said.

  “Yes, Benny, but Grandfather found us,” Violet said. “No one ever found Celia.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The Mysterious Dress

  Suddenly, Benny sniffed. “I smell something sweet … like perfume.”

  “I smell it, too,” Jessie said.

  “It’s like roses,” Henry said.

  “It’s coming from the living room,” Violet said.

  The children hurried into the living room. There they saw something they didn’t expect. On the mantel was a vase with three fragrant yellow roses in it.

  “These weren’t here yesterday,” Violet said, startled.

  “Maybe Mr. Farley took some from his garden and put them in here,” Jessie said thoughtfully.

  “Maybe, but how would he have gotten in? We always lock the door when we go,” Henry said. “Let’s go ask him.”

  The Aldens went outside. Mr. Farley was still working in his yard.

  “Mr. Farley,” Benny called out.

  Mr. Farley stopped weeding as the children approached. “Yes?” he said.

  “Did you put any roses in the living room in the Roth house?” Violet asked.

  Mr. Farley snorted. “Of course not. I don’t grow roses, and I sure wouldn’t waste money buying flowers for an empty house.”

  “Well, someone did,” Jessie said. “Come look.”

  Mr. Farley followed the Aldens into the house and into the living room. He looked at the roses on the mantel. “Well, you’re right. They sure are roses.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Carter put them here,” Henry said.