“She and her husband went off early this morning,” Mr. Farley said, “and they haven’t come home yet.”
The Aldens were silent.
“I told you there were funny things going on in this house. Now maybe you’ll believe me,” Mr. Farley said. “Celia used to love roses. I remember that. She grew them in her garden.” Then he turned and went back to his house.
“Mr. Farley is right. There are strange things going on,” Violet said.
“Violet, there are good explanations for everything,” Jessie said, but she didn’t sound too sure.
“I know what we should do,” Henry said. “We’ll go to the library in the morning and see what we can find out about the Roths from old newspapers.”
“Great idea,” Jessie said.
“I think we should tell Grandfather what’s going on,” Benny said.
“Benny is right,” Violet said.
Jessie hesitated. “We don’t want him to think we’re just foolish kids.”
Henry shook his head. “Grandfather would never think that. He knows we aren’t.”
At the table that night, they all ate Mrs. McGregor’s delicious meal of lamb chops, baked potatoes, and string beans. Then she brought in a big bowl of cut-up fresh fruit and a plate of spice cookies. She put the bowl in front of Henry to serve. As he dished out the fruit for his family, he said, “Grandfather, there’s something we want to talk to you about.”
Grandfather looked concerned. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
“It’s about the Roth house,” Benny said. “It’s a funny house.”
“Funny?” Grandfather asked.
“Well,” Violet began. “Benny is right. There are funny things in the house and funny people outside the house.”
Jessie said, “The things in the house can all be explained, I’m sure. Like a window shade suddenly fell on the floor. And we heard a girl singing upstairs. And roses appeared in the living room. The shade was probably blown off the window by the wind. Henry thinks the singing came from outside the house. I guess someone put the roses in the house, but who?”
Grandfather smiled. “Probably Mrs. Thaler did, to make the house look pretty.”
“I never thought of her,” Violet said. “But what about the funny people?”
“How are they funny?” Mr. Alden asked.
Benny said, “Well, Mr. Farley, the next-door neighbor, is always saying the house is haunted.”
Violet added, “And the other neighbor, Mr. Carter, doesn’t want to have neighbors.”
Henry said, “And there’s this man, an artist named Thomas Yeats, who is upset because the house will be fixed up. He’s painting a picture and doesn’t want the house changed.”
“And there’s Terry Evans. She’s writing a book. She thinks the house should be a landmark,” Jessie said.
“These people don’t sound so odd to me, except maybe Mr. Farley,” Grandfather said. “But he probably just has a big imagination. I think you children do, too. I suggest you forget about Mr. Farley’s ghost and have fun fixing up the house. Joe and Alice will be so pleased.”
“You’re right, Grandfather,” Jessie said. “That’s just what we’ll do. We all do have big imaginations.”
But in the morning, the Aldens went to the library anyway. Ms. Gary, the librarian, smiled at them. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Jessie smiled back at her. “We wonder if you have any old Greenfield newspapers that go back to 1917?”
“We have some on microfilm. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” Ms. Gary asked.
“Well, we’d like to read about when Celia Roth disappeared. Our cousins are buying the old Roth house,” Violet said.
“That was a long time ago,” Ms. Gary said.
“It was August,” Benny said. “Mr. Farley told us that.”
“Well, that’s a help,” Ms. Gary said as she left the room. “I’ll be right back.”
She returned soon with two rolls of microfilm. “This is the Greenfield paper from August 1917. Do you know how to use the microfilm machine?” she asked. “It’s upstairs.”
“I know how. We learned in school,” Jessie said.
“Ours is an old machine,” Ms. Gary said. “Not like the newest ones.”
“So is the one in school,” Jessie replied. The Aldens ran up the stairs, and Jessie put the film into the machine and started moving the film through. “I’ll yell when I get to something,” she said, looking at the screen.
The other children were silent while Jessie looked. After a while she shouted, “Here! Here’s something.”
“Let me see,” Violet said. “The date is August 4th. It says, Celia Roth is missing.”
“What else does it say?” Benny asked excitedly.
Violet read. “Seventeen-year-old Celia Roth has vanished from her father’s house. Mr. Robert Roth has refused to discuss the disappearance with reporters. The Greenfield police have questioned Mr. Roth and they also refuse to be interviewed.”
“Let me look, too,” Henry said. He took Violet’s place at the machine. “Here’s more. On August thirty-first it says, The Greenfield police are no longer investigating the case of Celia Roth.”
“That’s funny,” Jessie said. “Keep looking.”
Henry looked for another five minutes. “There’s nothing else,” he said.
The Aldens went downstairs, returned the film to Ms. Gary, and left the library.
Benny said, “Well, we don’t know anything more than we did before.”
They all got on their bikes. “Let’s go to the house and do some more work,” Jessie said. “Before we know it, Joe and Alice will be here.”
When they got to the house, Thomas Yeats was across the street. His easel was set up and he was busy working on his painting of the Roth house.
Benny waved and called out, “Hi, Mr. Yeats. Can I look at your painting?”
Mr. Yeats looked across the street at Benny. “No, you can’t,” he replied gruffly.
“It’s probably a rotten painting anyway,” Benny grumbled.
“He sure is an unfriendly man,” Jessie said.
“Let’s just ignore him,” Violet said. “I know what needs cleaning very badly … the big bathroom in the master bedroom.”
“Ugh,” Benny said. “I don’t want to clean a bathroom.”
“Okay, Benny,” Henry said, “you can clean the inside of the big bedroom’s windows. I’ll help Jessie and Violet with the bathroom.”
The Aldens carted cleanser, soap, a bucket, and rags up to the bathroom. Jessie and Violet scrubbed the sink and the tub while Henry washed down the tiles. Little by little the bathroom began to look white instead of gray.
In the bedroom, Benny sprayed window cleaner on the panes of glass and carefully wiped them with a soft rag. The sun sparkled on the panes and Benny cried out, “You should see what a good job I’m doing!”
“I’m sure you are,” Violet called back to Benny. “We’ll come and look.”
The Aldens gathered around Benny and admired his hard work. Then Jessie pointed to a closet door. “We never looked in there.”
Henry walked over and pulled open the heavy wooden door. He peered into the closet. “There are a few boxes in here.”
The other children came over to him and looked into the closet, too. Violet said, “There are books in those boxes. Lots of books.”
“We’ll have to go through them some time,” Jessie said. “That should be fun.”
“Like when we cleaned up that old library,” Benny said.
“Maybe there are boxes of things in the other closets,” Violet said. “I’ll go look in the next bedroom.”
In a few minutes the children heard her cry out, “Come here! Look what’s on the bed.”
Benny, Henry, and Jessie ran into the next room. Violet pointed to the single bed that was against a wall and stretching into the room. What they saw surprised them even more than the roses had. There was a dress on the bed. A
pale pink, long dress. The hem, neckline, and wrists were trimmed with a delicate lace. It was a beautiful dress, and the children could tell that it was very old.
“That dress wasn’t here yesterday,” Violet said.
“It wasn’t here any day we were in this room,” Henry added.
“Where do you suppose it came from?” Jessie asked.
“I’ll bet it was once Celia’s dress,” Benny said.
“It looks like it might have been. And I’ll bet this was her room,” Violet said.
The Aldens were silent, each thinking about how the dress could have gotten into the room.
“I’m going to call Grandfather,” Violet said. “I want him to come here and see what we see. Then he won’t think we just have big imaginations.”
“There’s no phone in this house,” Benny said. “How are you going to call him?”
“I’ll go next door and ask the Carters if I can use their phone. I know they’re home because I saw their car in the driveway,” Violet said firmly.
“I don’t know if we should bother Grandfather at work with this,” Jessie said thoughtfully.
“Grandfather won’t mind,” Benny said. “He always tells us we should call him anytime if we need him.”
Henry said, “That’s true, but do we really need him to come to look at an old dress?”
“It isn’t just an old dress, Henry,” Violet said. “You know that. It’s a very old dress that just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I want Grandfather to see it.”
“Okay,” Jessie said. “Let’s go and call him.”
The Aldens hurried next door to the Carters’ house and knocked at the door. Soon Mrs. Carter appeared. She smiled when she saw the children. “Hi. Can I do something for you?”
“We’d like to use your phone, if we could,” Violet said. “I want to call my grandfather.”
“I hope nothing is wrong,” Mrs. Carter said, looking very curious.
“Well, I’m not sure,” Violet replied. “Something very strange just happened to us.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Mrs. Carter asked.
“First I want to call Grandfather,” Violet said.
Mrs. Carter led the Aldens into the house. “There’s a phone in the kitchen that you can use,” she said, pointing to a room to her right.
Violet took the receiver off the kitchen wall and dialed a number. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Alden, please,” she said. “This is his granddaughter Violet.”
Soon Mr. Alden’s voice boomed over the phone. “Violet! Are you all right? Is something wrong?”
“We’re fine, Grandfather,” she said. “Don’t be upset. But something just happened at the Roth house, and I’d like you to come over. A dress appeared, an old dress, out of nowhere.”
Grandfather hesitated. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, dear. But you do sound upset. I’ll be with you as soon as I can drive over there.”
Violet hung up. Mrs. Carter was leaning against the sink, looking very interested in Violet’s conversation. The other Aldens were standing near the doorway.
“How about if I give you children some milk and cookies while you’re waiting for your grandfather?” Mrs. Carter said.
“I think that’s a very good idea,” Benny said.
“Are you sure it isn’t any trouble?” Jessie asked.
“It will be a pleasure,” Mrs. Carter answered.
Just then Mr. Carter came into the kitchen. “I thought I heard a lot of strange voices,” he said.
Mrs. Carter looked at him with a funny expression on her face. “It’s just the Alden children. They’re going to have milk and cookies while they wait for their grandfather.”
“Why is he coming?” Mr. Carter asked. “Aren’t there enough people here?”
Mrs. Carter laughed nervously. “Don’t mind my husband, children. He really isn’t as grumpy as he sounds.”
She opened the refrigerator door and took out a large carton of milk. She filled four glasses and set them on the kitchen table. “Sit down. I’ll put out some cookies, too.”
The Aldens sat around the table, and Mr. Carter left the room. Mrs. Carter filled a plate with chocolate chip cookies and placed it in the center of the table. “They aren’t homemade but they are still good,” she said, smiling.
The Aldens drank and ate in silence. Then Benny slowly said, “Did you know Celia Roth?”
Mrs. Carter laughed. “No. She lived here way before I did. But I’ve certainly heard a lot about her from Mr. Farley.”
“Do you believe in ghosts, Mrs. Carter?” Benny asked.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Henry said quickly.
CHAPTER 6
The Diary
Soon the Aldens heard a car stop in front of the Roth house. They ran to the front door and saw Mr. Alden getting out of the car.
“There’s our grandfather,” Jessie said to Mrs. Carter. “We have to go. Thanks for the phone and the snack.”
“Any time,” Mrs. Carter replied.
The children ran to their grandfather, and Violet said, “Come upstairs and see the dress I was telling you about.”
They all went into the house and upstairs to the small bedroom. They looked at the bed. It was empty.
“The dress was here just a little while ago,” Violet cried out. “Everyone saw it. We all did.”
“She’s right, Grandfather,” Henry said. “It was here.”
“We all saw it,” Jessie added.
“It was right here on the bed?” Grandfather asked.
“Yes!” Violet said. “I can’t believe it’s gone.”
“That is very odd,” Mr. Alden said. He looked around the room thoughtfully. “There must be a good explanation. Meanwhile, I hope you children aren’t nervous here.”
“Of course not, Grandfather,” Jessie said. “It is funny that the dress is gone. But there must be a real good reason.”
“Something else happened,” Henry said. “We found a couple of boxes of old books in a closet.”
“That sounds interesting,” Mr. Alden said. “Let me see them.”
They walked into the master bedroom and showed Grandfather the books in the closet. He started looking through one box. “It’s much too dark in this closet to see anything. I think we should take the boxes home and see what’s in them. There might be something valuable.”
“I’ll help you carry the boxes downstairs,” Henry said.
Together Henry and Mr. Alden carried the two boxes down and put them in Mr. Alden’s car. “I think you children have had enough for one day. Why don’t you bike home now,” he said.
“I like that idea,” Benny replied.
“Before we go, Grandfather. Look at the man across the street. He’s the artist we told you about,” Violet said.
Mr. Alden gazed at Thomas Yeats. “He seems ordinary enough to me, Violet. Just an artist painting a picture of a house.”
“Not a very nice artist,” Violet said. “A grumpy one, just like Mr. Carter.”
Grandfather laughed. “Well, unfortunately, everyone isn’t pleasant all the time.”
It took much longer for the children to bike home than for Mr. Alden to drive there. So by the time they had arrived at their house, Grandfather already had the boxes of books in the den. He also had some good news for them.
He said, “Aunt Jane called. Uncle Andy is away on business, so she’s going to come and spend a few days visiting us.”
Benny asked, “When will she get here? I can’t wait.”
Grandfather laughed. “Well, you won’t have to wait too long. She’ll be here in the morning. She said she would leave Elmford very early.”
Violet was already busy pulling books out of the two cartons. The other children joined her and they all sat on the floor, examining them. Grandfather sat in his favorite chair reading the newspaper. He enjoyed their laughter as they found books that seemed very old and outdated.
Jessie pulled out a magazine that featured wom
en’s styles. “Look at these dresses,” she cried out. “They’re so funny.”
“And the hats,” Violet added. “Can you imagine wearing something like that now?”
Henry looked at the pictures, too. “You know, some of these dresses look just like the one that was on the bed in the Roth house.”
Jessie closed the magazine and looked at the date on the cover. “This is from February 1917.”
“So the dress we saw could have been Celia’s,” Violet said softly.
“Violet!” Jessie said. “Even if it was Celia’s dress a long time ago, there’s no such thing as ghosts. The dress got on the bed in some logical way.”
Mrs. McGregor came to the door of the den and said, “Dinner will be ready in five minutes. You children all go upstairs and wash your hands very well. You’re all dirty from those dusty old books.”
In a few minutes they all sat down to a wonderful chicken dinner. The children were impatient, however, to get back to the books, which interested them all. Even Benny had found something special — a few old children’s books. And Watch liked sniffing at the old books. So they ate faster than usual and decided to save their dessert until later.
They ran back into the den and continued going through the two boxes. The evening was filled with one or another of the children calling out, “Look at this one” or “Have you ever seen anything like this?” or “Look at what a car looked like then!”
Suddenly Violet called out, “I’ve found something wonderful!”
She held in her hands a cracked blue leather book. Printed on the cover in gold letters was My Diary. On the first page was written in a delicate, perfect handwriting, This book belongs to Celia Roth.
The Aldens all crowded around Violet and looked at the diary. “I’m not sure it’s right to read it,” Jessie said.
“Jessie, the diary is years and years old. Celia Roth is probably dead now. What harm is there in reading it?” Violet asked.
Jessie said firmly, “I wouldn’t want anyone reading my diary — even seventy-five years later.”
Violet turned to Mr. Alden, who was listening to the conversation. “What do you think, Grandfather?”
Mr. Alden said, “Well, I don’t really see anything wrong in reading the diary of someone who wrote it so long ago.”
The Boxcar Children Halloween Special Page 3
