Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House (10 page)

“And?” Even Liam was caught up in it, and he was
sixteen.

“There was a face in the window,” Bill said, voice quiet so they all had to lean in to hear. “A boy's face. It was staring. Right. At. Us.” As he spoke, he pointed at each of the kids, punctuating his words. Little Grace cuddled to Rebecca who sat down again.

“What did you do?” the twins asked together, eyes huge.

“We ran, of course,” Bill said, sitting up, voice back to normal. “Ran screaming like rabbits. Scared the bejesus out of me.”

Chloe tried to fake amazement while Mary sliced a big chocolate cake.

“Cool,” she said. “I'll be sure to watch for him.”

Bill looked at her, clearly shocked. Mary, however,
laughed and handed Chloe a very large piece of cake. Then Bill laughed, too, and winked at her.

“Any idea who he might be?” Chloe asked.

Bill shook his head. “It's just a story, Chloe,” he told her.

She exchanged a look with Marsh. Maybe over the years his dad had managed to convince himself it was “just a story,” but they knew the story was true.

Marsh cornered Chloe in the yard.

“I swear I didn't say anything to him,” he told her in a whisper, breathless with the effort to get the words out.

“I know,” Chloe said. “Funny, though, isn't it? I wonder how many other people saw him but won't believe it.”

“Did you see him again?” Marsh asked.

“Last night,” Chloe said. She was about to tell him about the diary when she hesitated. She wanted to keep it to herself. The feeling went away, however. Chloe told him everything that had happened.

Marsh was jumping up and down with excitement by the time she finished. “He didn't say anything?”

“No. But I'm reading the journal. It's kind of hard,
though. It's damaged and I don't want to wreck it.”

“This is the best summer ever!” He hugged her before she knew he was going to, bumping her nose against his collarbone so hard it stung for a moment. “I'm so glad you're here! I was sure this was going to be just
another boring break, but this is awesome!” His face
fell as he realized what he was saying. “I didn't mean… sorry, Chloe.”

She was used to him by now and didn't hold it against him. “It's okay. I know what you meant.”

In typical Marsh fashion, he forgot all about it.

“Can I see it?” He started pulling on her arm. “Let's
go!”

Chloe held back, that same odd surge of desire to keep
it private making her resist. She didn't really have a
reason for it. But the boy wanted her to have it. He hadn't shown up for Marsh, after all, only her. But she knew Marsh might be able to help her figure out how to get more pages apart, so she went with him.

She waved at Aunt Larry in passing. “See you at home,” her aunt called after her. Marsh was already on his way to the field. Chloe found the path and followed.

She felt her excitement rising as they pounded their
way through the house and to her room. She slipped
the book out from under her pillow and held it up so Marsh could see. As she did, her parents' photo slid from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. Chloe felt her face turning red as Marsh bent and picked it up. She wanted more than anything to snatch it back from him, but held herself still as he looked at it.

“They seem nice,” he said, handing it to her after a
moment.

“Thanks,” she said. She tucked it back under her pillow, embarrassed that Marsh now knew part of her secret, but when she looked into his eyes he was smiling, which made her feel much better.

“Let's have a look,” he said.

Chloe deposited the book in his eager hands. She was about to caution him to be careful of it, now fully aware of Marsh's gung-ho nature, but didn't have to. He used the tip of his finger to open the cover by one corner. He squinted at the picture and the handwriting.

“J. Who is J?” He flipped another page and winced as the paper crumbled. “It's really old, huh?”

“1941,” Chloe said, pointing at the date.

“Maybe there's more stuff where you found it!” He
handed the book back to her.

The thought had crossed her mind but she hadn't had a chance to check. She returned the journal to its hiding place under her pillow before following Marsh to the other end of the house.

He was taller than her so he was able to reach farther into the cubbyhole above the old stairs. Aside from the stub of a pencil, however, it was empty. Chloe slipped the pencil in her pocket with plans to keep it with the book. Marsh, excited by the find, did another thorough search of the room but came up empty. By the time they had finished, they were both disappointed.

“I'll keep at it,” Chloe told him. “Find out who he was and what happened. Maybe the journal will have more clues.”

“He wanted you to have it for a reason,” Marsh agreed. “But one thing is sure. He lived here and that narrows down the possibilities.” His eyes lit up. “I know where we might be able to find him, too!”

“Where?” Chloe asked.

“The family graveyard!” He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Why didn't I think of it before?”

Chloe didn't like the sound of it. She had bad memories of the last graveyard she had been in. “Where is it?”

Marsh shuddered with a mix of fear and excitement. “That's the only problem,” he said. “It's on the other side of the fence, behind Joseph's cottage.”

Chloe hesitated. She did not want to have another confrontation with that mean old man. The memory of him yelling at her was still fresh. But, the ghost boy needed her, didn't he?

“A lot of families had their own plots in the old days,” Marsh told her. “They're all over the Island. I'm not sure when they stopped using them, but maybe he's there. If not, we could always check the church down the road. That's where Gramps is buried.”

“Should we check there first?” She was nervous about risking it.

“The other one is closer,” he said. “Don't worry. Joseph is pretty harmless. And we'll go at night, after dark so he doesn't see us. He won't even know we were there. I know how to get to the house without being seen.”

“How?” Chloe asked.

He blushed, the red filling in his freckles. “Liam and the twins and I… we sometimes go over there at Halloween and, you know… trick.”

“No wonder he's so cranky,” Chloe said. “You guys are mean.”

“No way!” Marsh defended himself. “He's been that
way forever, honest! Even my dad says so.”

They both jumped at the sound of the front door
banging shut. Chloe heard Aunt Larry calling her name. They scrambled down the stairs and into the main part of the house before she could catch them upstairs.

“I'll see you at eleven o'clock,” he whispered to her before dashing with a wave past Aunt Larry and out
the door.

Chloe was so nervous that night she couldn't eat dinner.
Aunt Larry, it turned out, wasn't hungry either, blaming it on the huge lunch they'd had, so Chloe was off the hook. She said an early good night to her aunt and retreated to her room and the book.

Chloe set the pencil on her vanity and went to work on the pages of the journal. She was about to give up when the last bit of resistance let go and all the sheets were free.

Eager to find out more, Chloe started to read.

December 27, 1941

M only wants to talk about Angus Morrison all the time. She keeps telling Momma she is in love with him and will
die if he goes off to France with the other boys. I think she is being selfish. Those boys are fighting for our country against the evil Nazis. Everyone knows that. Even the Americans are
getting in on it, now. I wish I was old enough to go too. I
would kill more Nazis than anyone else.

December 29, 1941

J is mad at me again. It snowed so much the last few days that everything is covered in white. Poppa had a hard time getting the front door open after the storm. J didn't want to help even though we had to get a way cleared so we could feed the cows. When I told him so, he told me
to shut up and Momma got mad at him. Now he is being
punished and he says it is my fault. My teacher, Miss T, told me that twins are supposed to be really close and the very best of friends. Why aren't J and I?

Chloe continued to read. As time passed, J wrote
less
often, but there was at least one entry every week. She was fascinated by his life, living on the
farm, helping
his parents. They didn't have electricity yet, being so
far from the road.

March 17, 1941

Momma was complaining today to Poppa about how he still hasn't completed the finishing work on the new part of the house. It is an old argument. Poppa's insisted on finishing the widow cottage for Grammy first before he does anything else for Momma. That makes her blood boil since she thinks Poppa put his own mother ahead of all of us. And now that the war is on, it's harder to get some things. Poppa told me this morning he is going to show me how to make nails out of old horseshoes.

I still like the old part of the house better. I like to write
up here. It makes me feel like Gramps is still alive and
remember that Poppa used to be young, like me.

Chloe had been feeling a connection between herself and J; it became stronger with every entry she read. By the time May rolled around in the diary, she felt like he was an old friend.

May 11, 1941

I had to stay home from school today and help Poppa with
the fields. I didn't want to but we all have to help out.
Miss T says I am her best student and wants me to keep studying over the summer break. I would love to. She even thinks that I should go to university someday and maybe be
a teacher or a doctor or something. It makes me happy to
think that I could. I know Poppa would be disappointed if I didn't farm like him but I love school!

Chloe found herself smiling. She liked school a lot,
too. They had so much in common! For a time, read
ing his journal, she forgot that he was not only a
ghost, but that he had lived seventy years ago, long before she was born.

May 12, 1941

J found this and showed it to Poppa. I am so angry! He didn't have the right! Poppa said it was okay and punished
J for taking my journal but now I feel terrible that he
knows I don't want to be a farmer. I have a new hiding place for it that J will never find. I wish he would just leave me alone!

Chloe did, too. How dare he? She read on through
the diary. It soon became apparent that the mean J (as
she had begun to think of him) did his best to make her J look or feel bad. Chloe found herself hating the other twin and commiserating with her friend over
the bullying.

At last, Chloe came to July 14, 1941.

J tried to accuse me of stealing his yo-yo. Like I care about his stupid toy! He yelled at me and pushed me down in the yard. Poppa caught him, but J wouldn't stop. He told Poppa I stole it but I didn't. Poppa was mad at me! He thinks I'm lying when it's J that's lying! It's not fair! If I do find his stupid yo-yo, I'll throw it in the ocean and he'll never see it again, ever!

There were several round watermarks on the page that had nothing to do with the other damage. Chloe
realized they were left behind by his tears. She touched each of them with her fingertips before turning the page. There was nothing to see. The remaining pages, what few were left, were empty.

Chloe sat back, disappointed. She wanted more! And there was no clue here as to what had happened to J. She knew he must have died right after. With a start she looked at her calendar. It was July 12, two days before the entry. She shivered. She was reading his journal seventy years almost to the day of his death.

Frustrated, Chloe closed the book. As she did, she
noticed the red numbers on her clock turn over to 10:30.
Determined now to see it through, she put the book
away and got ready to meet Marsh.