Kindred Spirits (11 page)

He was panicking. Was this causing his asthma? “You have to relax.”

Mason dropped his head into his hands. “Back away,” he rasped.

I slid onto the ground and pulled my knees tightly to my chest, trying to take up the least amount of space possible. I was scared. What would happen if Mason didn't get his inhaler?

I have to get him out of here. He's not going to be okay without his inhaler.
Sweat trickled down my neck. It was too warm in here. My skin crackled with a strange current. I needed to get out too.

“Henry!” I bellowed. “I know it was you! Let us out! Henry!”

Buddy barked.

“Henry!” I screamed again.

Mason lifted his head. “Who's . . . Henry?” Every
breath he sucked in sounded painful, but I was glad he could still talk.

Keep him talking. Keep him calm.
I had no idea where the thoughts came from, but they were the only ideas I had.

“You're not going to believe it,” I said quietly, leaning my head back, trying to open as much space as I could. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Instead I just talked.

“Henry is a boy. A young boy. He's dead.” I barreled forward, not waiting for Mason to respond. “He died back in the 1920s, I think. It's his spirit that's still here. Spirits do that sometimes. Get trapped. Henry lives in this house. Actually, he lives in this closet.”

Mason said nothing, just wheezed. But his eyes were fixed on mine. He was listening.

“Henry was put in this closet because he's mischievous. He does pranks mostly. Makes messes and scares people. But before I came here, he found some matches and almost set the house on fire. Lady Azura couldn't control him, so she put him in the closet.”

Mason's breathing was so labored I could barely look at him. I didn't want him to see the panic on my
face. I stared at the brass doorknob. I kept talking. Calmly. Slowly. As if talking about ghosts was the most natural thing in the world.

“Henry went crazy for your dog when Lily brought him over last week,” I continued. Was his breathing slowing now? Sounding less ragged? I talked more. There was a lot to tell about Henry. How he'd almost flattened Jayden with a bookcase at my Mischief Night party last fall. How he loved to make a mess in my craft room. When I was done telling stories about Henry, I realized that Mason's breathing was almost normal again. “He thinks Buddy belongs to him. He got upset when Buddy was so attached to you just now. That's why he put us in here. So he can be with Buddy. At least, I think that's why.”

Mason nodded.

“I can see ghosts. Hear and talk to them too.” The history of my seeing ghosts and coming to live with Lady Azura tumbled out. My brain couldn't keep up with my mouth. I told Mason everything.

“There are spirits everywhere. Most don't bother me, but others want help moving on. They're stuck here, because of unfinished business.” I pointed to the
door. “Not Henry, though. He's just here because he's having fun.”

Mason didn't say anything. I realized I couldn't hear his breathing, which meant he was now breathing normally. And staring at me with the strangest look on his face.

“You must think I'm crazy,” I said softly.

“No crazier than bending a spoon with your mind or toppling a milk bottle.”

He'd seen that, too. How to begin to explain that? It was too new. Too confusing. We sat in silence for a very long time, listening to his wheezing.

“Do you believe me?” I asked.

“See that bottle of glue?” Mason pointed toward a white bottle on a shelf directly above our heads.

I nodded.

“Watch.”

Slowly the plastic bottle inched its way along the edge of the shelf. It glided along, moved by unseen forces.

I turned to Mason. He was staring at the bottle. Really staring at it. Intensely staring at it.

“It's you!” I cried.

Mason nodded. “I thought you knew. The way you act around me.”

“Me? You're the one who's been acting weird,” I said. “I didn't know it was you. Wow. So you can move whatever you want with your mind?”

He shrugged. “I guess. It's pretty crazy. Sometimes it just happens. I think my emotions trigger it. But if I focus on something, yeah, I can move it with my mind. ”

My mind was still reeling. “Are you sure you bent that spoon? I thought maybe it was me.”

“Really?” Mason scooted closer. “Try it. See if you can.”

I focused on the glue bottle. Focused harder than I'd ever focused.

Mason watched me.

I watched the bottle.

It didn't move. At all.

“Yeah, you bent the spoon,” I conceded. “Did you cause the skeletons to drop?”

“Yeah. I had to get out of there. The walls were closing in.” He took several large gulps of air.

“You're not the only one, you know.”

“Really?” He laughed. “Do you mean like the guy in the movie Lily was talking about? Would someone like us really want to have a movie made of our lives, showing off what we can do?”

Someone like us.

“No, I definitely wouldn't want to deal with all that attention . . . but the point is, there are other people out there like us. Lady Azura has powers too. You didn't know I could communicate with spirits, did you?”

“I knew something was up with you. That's why I tried to stay away.”

“Up how? I thought you hated me.”

Mason's checks flamed red. “I don't
hate
you. You just made me feel weird. Like there was this crazy electrical current zapping me every time you appeared.” His green eyes searched mine.

“Me too. I felt it too. The connection.”

He held my gaze for a long moment. Then we both squirmed uncomfortably.

“I need my inhaler.” Mason stood abruptly.

“Can you unblock the door with your mind? I think Henry pushed my computer chair against it.”

Mason's face took on that same faraway look I see in Lady Azura's eyes when she goes into a trance during a séance. He tried desperately to move the chair through the door. I stayed quiet and waited.

“It's not going to work,” he admitted, wheezing slightly. “I can't focus on it without seeing it. Buddy stopped barking. Why's that?”

I pushed my ear against the door. I heard Buddy panting and then the repetitive thump of his wagging tail hitting the floor.

“Henry!” I shouted. “I know you're there with Buddy. Let us out!”

“You can still play with the dog,” Mason called.

I smiled at him. “You just talked to a ghost.”

“Yep. I figured you need all the help you can get.”

“That's it!” I leaned against the door. “Eleanor! Dwight! Can you hear me?”

I continued to call their names. I knew they were close by. After a while, Dwight's limping shuffle brushed across the crafts room floor. Through the door, I instructed him to move the chair away. Unlike Henry, Dwight listened.

We burst out of the closet. Buddy bounded across the room and pounced on Mason. He covered his face with slobbery licks.

I glared at Henry as the little boy pouted.

Mason's eyes flicked about, searching for the dead people only I could see. “They're here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Mason stood. “I got to get my inhaler. We could leave Buddy up here for a little while if you want.”

I followed Mason, Dwight, and Eleanor out, closing the crafts room door tightly. Henry would get a little more time with Buddy. I would deal with reprimanding him later.

Eleanor and Dwight dropped into chairs at the kitchen table. For once, they seemed tired from all their searching. Dwight still grasped that old flight bag.

I stood awkwardly by the refrigerator, watching Mason suck in air from his inhaler.

Had I really just told him everything? Everything I hadn't even told my best friend? It felt unreal. And embarrassing.

I watched him replace the inhaler in his backpack. I barely knew him. Up until a little while ago, I wasn't even sure I liked him. Could I trust him? Would he keep my secret?

Or had I just made a huge mistake?

Mason jiggled his leg and eyed me nervously. “I'm not going back to the party.” He pulled out his phone. “I'm going to text my mom to come get me.”

“Is your asthma still bad?”

“No. It's okay.” He titled his head. “Thanks for mellowing me out up there. It helped.”

“No problem. Why are you going home?”

“Not really in a party mood. Lots to process, you know?”

I did. “I probably missed the ice-cream part. I might as well text Lily and just meet up at her house for the sleepover.”

“All-night party.” His leg jiggled even faster. “What do you girls talk about for all those hours? Guys? Secrets?”

“Silly stuff.” Then suddenly I knew why he was worried. “I won't say anything. About what happened. About what you can do. I promise. I'll never tell anyone.”

He swept his hand through his spiky hair. “Same here. Just you and me. Our secret.”

The warm tingle crept along my skin again. Our connection.

It felt good to have told someone.

The rock in my stomach had grown lighter.

“I was not expecting you home.” Lady Azura entered the kitchen. Her arched brows raised when she saw Mason. “I certainly was not expecting you.”

I explained about forgetting Lily's gift. Mason stiffened as Lady Azura looked him over. Could she sense his powers? I wasn't sure. She was definitely looking at him closely. But then again, it wasn't that often that she walked out into our kitchen and saw me sitting there with a boy. Well, I wasn't going to tell her. I'd made a promise.

“Got to fly. My mom's out front.” Mason went to lift his backpack. Eleanor's pudgy hands were playing with the pins. She grabbed on. Panic seized her shimmery body. I felt her panic.

“Bob?” she whispered.

Mason didn't hear her, didn't feel her pull. He yanked the bag up onto his shoulder and left through the back door.

Lady Azura headed to the pantry to make her nightly hot chocolate. I'd been the only one to hear Eleanor. My mind sorted through all the bits and pieces. The flight bag. Avery's shirt. The pins.

“Is there someone in Eleanor and Dwight's life who's a pilot?” I asked suddenly. “Someone important?”

“Yes. They had a son who was a pilot.”

“Was?”

Lady Azura turned. “He died.”

“How?”

“I do not know.”

“Can you find out?” I asked.

“Yes. I'll ask Mrs. Merberg tomorrow. She mentioned him once. His name was—”

“Bob,” I finished. “His name was Bob.”

Lady Azura leaned toward me. “How did you know that?”

“I figured out
who
Eleanor and Dwight are searching for. They're searching for Bob.”

Even though it was late, Lady Azura went to call Mrs. Merberg.

“Bob was a pilot for the army,” she reported when she returned. “Mrs. Merberg said that Bob—he was her cousin—was on a training flight out over the Pacific Ocean when his plane went down. The army never recovered his body.”

“So he's dead? Buried at sea?” I asked.

“Most likely. But his parents always held out hope that he had swum to safety.”

“Is that possible?”

“Doubtful. The military officially declared him dead.” Lady Azura sat beside me at the table. Eleanor and Dwight had long since wandered off to some other corner of the house.

“Then what happened?”

“Eleanor and Dwight refused to have a funeral or a memorial for him. The idea upset them so much that they wouldn't speak of him or have anyone else speak of him. No one has mentioned Bob for over twenty years. It was as if he never existed.”

“And now, to them, he never did. They forgot about him.”

“Not completely. They're still searching for him. I suspect they fear crossing over and leaving their son behind, though they don't realize it. His unknown fate is what binds them here.” Lady Azura folded her hands. “They need to reconnect with him, so they can all move on together.”

“How does that happen?”

“I will perform a séance to bring Bob's spirit back. In death, he can reunite with his parents. Then they can all go on together to the same place.” Lady Azura exhaled. “It will take a lot of work. A great deal of psychic energy.”

“Mrs. Merberg will be happy you solved her problem. She'll write about you in her book.”

“It was you who solved it, Sara. You.” Lady Azura clasped my hands tightly between hers. “We will finish
this together, if you'd like. Perform the séance together. Bring Eleanor and Dwight their relief together.”

“Really?” I smiled. “I'd like that.”

“Good.” She leaned back. “I have been working too hard. It is not good for me, and it is not good for you.”

“I'm fine—”

“Rubbish. You have not been happy. I closed my eyes to what was in front of me to look beyond. I was focused on the tops of the trees and ignored the roots. You moved here for my help, and I have been helping others instead.”

“Lots of people need you,” I said. I was proud of her. She was much more patient than I could ever be. I'd have sent Eleanor and Dwight packing and never would have discovered how to help them.

“I am taking a vacation. I am closing the business for a month. How does that sound?”

“It sounds great.”

“Hot chocolate?” she asked. “With lots of marshmallows?” She held up the package.

“I can't miss any more of Lily's party,” I said. As it was, I had a lot of explaining to do.

“I'll hold these then. A special treat.” She replaced
the marshmallow package in the pantry and waved me away. “Go celebrate. Dwight, Eleanor, and I will see you tomorrow. And tomorrow we will talk more about that boy.”