The Ghost of Gruesome High (14 page)

As far as I was concerned, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that that’s where the body and the stolen coins were buried! But I wanted to be sure.

I wanted Mr. Bell to point to the planter and say “Yes, that’s where I found the gold coin that night I scared off the ghost.”

But things didn’t work out exactly the way I planned. First off, Mr. Bell was having a hard time orienting himself; the last time he was here the school wasn’t complete. And (let’s be brutally honest!) he had been drinking.

He stood near the center of the quad and slowly spun himself around, standing stiffly on one leg. He took a long time looking at the road which led up to the school and finally he began walking toward the edge of the quad, toward the back of the administration wing of buildings. Between the cement of the quad and the back wall of what I judged to be the Principal’s Office was a thin strip of grass and then a flower bed. There was a slight “curb” separating the cement pad of the quad from the grass. Mr. Bell pointed at that curb, hesitated, then suddenly blurted: “There! That’s the spot. Things look a lot different now, but I’m sure that’s where I found it.”

“Not in the middle of the quad by the Campus Elm?” I asked, disappointed that I was wrong.

He shook his head and pointed an aluminum-foil-covered hand at the curb behind the Principal’s office. “No. It was right there. I’m sure of it.” Suddenly he looked up at the full moon, which was sitting about half way up the sky. “What time is it?” he said, suddenly looking worried. “I have to put on my spare dish and prepare myself to receive a very important message from beyond the stars!” he concluded with a flourish, pointing his hand at the star-filled sky above.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Bell,” I said taking one of his arms and motioning for Jennifer to take the other. “We’re going back now. We’ll have you home in plenty of time, I promise.” I gave one last glance back at the spot Mr. Bell had pointed to, and then Jennifer and I led Mr. Bell back to Wesley’s car.

Chapter 22

Do I have to do any of the digging?

It took a lot less time to get Mr. Bell loaded into Wesley’s car the second time and to drive back to his house than it had to get to the school in the first place. The only excitement we had on our way home was driving past Larry & Joe’s Pizza stand and having to listen to all the laughter and cat calls from the school jocks who hung out there every Friday night.

Mr. Bell was great. He held his hand up and waved demurely just like the Pope does when he rides around in his Pope-mobile.

It wasn’t until we got all the way back to Mr. Bell’s and the guys had done their bit to unload him from the car that I asked my next huge favor of him.

“Mr. Bell,” I said as Jennifer and I led him back into his house, “I need one more favor from you, and I’m afraid this is a really big favor.”

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear, but I have to get ready for my contact tonight. They told me it would be a particularly important one. I think they might be ready to destroy the Earth, and I really should try to talk them out of it, don’t you think?”

My mouth had dropped open while he was talking. It took me a full second or so before I was able to close it and organize my thoughts. “Yes, definitely,” I said. “We’d all appreciate it if you could talk them out of destroying the Earth. But in the meantime, could I possibly borrow the coin you found at the school. You know, the gold coin? I know it’s a lot to ask, and I promise I’ll be extra careful with it. In fact, I’ll . . . .”

Mr. Bell held up an aluminum-foil-covered hand to stop me from talking any further. “Say no more,” he said brightly. “If you say it is important, then it is important. End of story.”

With that he walked stiff-legged into the bedroom and returned a minute later with the gold coin in his hand. He walked over to me and held it out. “Do whatever you feel you have to do, young lady. I’m just happy that I could be of some small service to you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I could feel my eyes tearing up and a huge lump was forming in my throat. I didn’t want to cry. I slowly reached out and took the coin. It felt smooth, almost soft in a way, and very heavy. I could see why people treasured gold; it had an almost magical feel to it, like nothing else I had ever felt before in my life.

“Thank you,” I finally said. I quickly raised up on tip toe and gave Mr. Bell a kiss on his cheek. “This will be a big help.”

With that I turned around and walked out the door. It took the others several seconds to follow. Jason had to run to catch up with me.

“I can’t believe you,” he said. “What is going on in that little mind of yours, anyway?”

I looked at Jason and smiled. “Jason, whether you understand what’s going on or whether you don’t understand is no concern of mine. If you want to be part of this, that’s fine by me. And if you don’t—that’s O.K., too. You make the decision—but I call the shots. O.K.?”

With that I turned my back on Jason and walked to the car. The others followed in total silence. I got in the back seat; after a moment of silent haggling, Jennifer slipped in next to me and then Alan squeezed in next to her. Jason sat in the front passenger seat.

“Where to now?” Wesley said as he started the engine.
 

Everyone looked at me. “Well,” I said with some hesitation, “we’ve got a lot to do this weekend, but most of it needs to wait until Sunday night. That’s when we have to dig the hole. At midnight. At the school.”

“Dig a hole? A hole?? At midnight? At the school?” Jason finally said, without turning around. “What’s next, a seance?”

“I told you you don’t have to come,” I said. “You’re more than welcome to come along and help, but you don’t have to. Frankly, I think we could all do with a break from your rapier-like wit.”

I knew that was a little mean. I knew I’d just gone a tad overboard. But right then I didn’t care. We drove in silence for another couple of minutes. Finally Wesley said: “I hate to mention it, it’s probably a petty thing, but I don’t have a clue where I’m supposed to be driving right now. Can anyone help me out?”

“You can take me home,” Jason said, his face pressed up against the passenger window. “I’m through with this.”

“Actually I think it’s time for me to call it a night as well,” I said. I had a few things I had to do on Saturday by myself to get the trap set. “Wesley, are you up for another run to the school on Sunday night? Pick everyone up around eleven thirty? We’ll start digging at exactly midnight. I want the ghost to see us.”

“Your wish is my command,” Wesley said dryly.

We drove in total silence for ten minutes. Jason had his arms folded across his chest and never once turned to look at me or said a word. The atmosphere in the car was so thick you could slice it into bite-sized chunks. Finally Alan said, with false lightness in his voice: “So—we’re going to do some digging at the school, are we? That’s sounds like fun. Are we looking for anything special?”

“We’re not really looking for anything,” I said, fingering the gold coin Mr. Bell had given me. “We’re just digging a hole so someone will think we were looking for something.”

“Ah,” Alan said as if that answered everything. “I’m glad you cleared that up. Now I understand everything perfectly.”

“Well I don’t!” Jennifer said, exasperated. “I don’t understand anything that’s going on. What are we doing?”

“We’re trying to make someone think we’ve found the place where the stolen coins were buried. And we want them to think that the whole area is going to be dug up for a time capsule.”

“A time capsule?” Alan said. “Why would we want to bury a time capsule? And what are we gonna put in it?”

I let out a breath, exasperated. I knew it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t understand. After all, I hadn’t explained things to them yet. But it was still exasperating. Everything was so crystal clear to me I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just grasp it all in one big gulp like I did.

“We’re not really going to bury a time capsule. We just want people to think we are.”

“Oh,” Alan said. “Once again you’ve made everything as clear as glass.”

“Not to me!” Jennifer said, her voice totally exasperated. “I don’t get it at all! Just let me ask one question. Do I have to do any of the digging? I just got my nails done, you know.”

“No,” I laughed. “You can stand guard and watch for the ghost.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said quietly. “I guess that’s O.K.”

Chapter 23

Details, details

I felt a little bad about the way I had treated Jason, but not bad enough to lose any sleep over it. I was up at seven and feeling great. I showered and got dressed and came downstairs for breakfast.

My Dad’s a mailman, and every third Saturday he has to be at the post office early. This was one of his early Saturdays, so it was just Mom and me for breakfast.

Mom and I get along all right, but I’ve noticed that we don’t have as much to talk about any more as we used to. I’m not interested in hearing about her bridge club and how many cents she saved on laundry detergent by using double coupons—and she’s not all that interested in the stuff my friends and I do, so breakfast is usually pretty quiet. Not a bad quiet—a good quiet.

But today was going to be different.

“Mornin’, darling,” Mom said. She was dressed in her warm-ups, which meant she was about to go for one of her infrequent jogs. She used to jog every morning. Then it was three mornings a week. Then one. Now it’s just whenever she feels like it. “There’s scrambled eggs in the pan. Make yourself some toast. There’s milk and cereal if you want it. I hope you like the cereal. I got it on double coupon.”

“I’m not all that hungry,” I said perfunctorily. “Eggs’ll be fine. I’ll get some juice. You go ahead and jog. I’ve got things to do today.”

“Things, darling? What things?”

What things? Mom never asked me questions like that. I knew instantly that something was up. I answered slowly and carefully, looking for the trap. “Oh, you know, kid things. Did you say there was cereal?” I didn’t really want any cereal, I just wanted to change the subject. Unfortunately that strategy didn’t always work.

“One of your teachers stopped by last night.” She said it very matter-of-factly, as if it were a throw-away line. But I wasn’t fooled. Not for a second.
 

I sat down at the table, pushed my plate away, and folded my arms. I refused to rise to her bait; I just sat there with a frown on my face, waiting. Mom was good at this. She stretched the silence out just long enough, then said: “It was Mr. Greenwald. Your science teacher.”

My stomach was suddenly tied up in a small ball, and my whole body went ice cold for two or three seconds. I did my best not to show any emotion and not to let any come through in my voice. “Oh? What’d he say?”

My Mom finally turned and looked at me. She had a worn look on her face, as if she was also getting tired of these little games we played. “He says you’re investigating the ghost that’s supposed to haunt your school.”

“Oh, that.” I said it as if I had already dismissed it. “I’m helping Wesley do some research for his history project. He’s writing a paper on the ghost.” Technically that was true. At least if I could make him write the stupid paper I wanted him to write it would be true. I pulled the plate of eggs back in front of me and quickly downed two large bites.

“Mr. Greenwald seems to think there’s more to it than that. He said there are certain people in town who don’t want the ghost investigated and that you could be in some danger.” She sat down across from me and reached her hands across the table. She waited until I stuck my hands out so she could hold them. I don’t know where she got this ritual, but I really thought it was dumb. “I don’t want you doing anything that could get you hurt,” she said. She said it with deep feeling and she looked me in the eye as she said it. “Now I want you to promise me you won’t do anything dangerous.”

I did my best to smile at her. “Of course I won’t do anything dangerous. You know me. Chicken Patsy. Cluck, cluck,” I said, hoping to keep things light. The truth was, I was a bit of a chicken most of the time. It was just that some times I didn’t know the things I was doing were dangerous. That’s not my fault, is it?

Mom smiled, let go my hands, stood up and began doing some stretching exercises. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?”

“I thought I’d ride my bike down town. I’ve got some things to check out. Then I thought I’d go to Wesley’s and help him with his ghost report.” I took two more quick bites of egg so I wouldn’t have to say any more.

Mom stopped her stretching exercises and looked at me. “You will be careful?” she asked.

“I promise,” I said around a mouthful of eggs.

She looked at me as if deciding whether or not to believe me, and then turned and jogged to the back door. “Don’t be too late!” she said as the door closed behind her.

I quickly washed my dishes, then went out the back door myself. I don’t ride my bike all that much any more. Usually I walk or get a ride from someone. But today I needed to do a lot of stuff and the bike was my best means of transportation.

My first stop was Mr. Greenwald’s house. I left my bike on his front lawn and knocked on the door. You know, it’s always a little strange seeing a teacher away from school. There’s something about being in a classroom that makes a teacher seem—I don’t know—different from other people. Then, when you see them in a grocery store or something, walking around like everyone else, plopping milk and eggs and bread into a shopping cart and then waiting at the check out just like an ordinary person, it’s just kinda weird.