The Ghost of Gruesome High (16 page)

“I’ve been better,” he said dryly.

“Jason . . . .” I didn’t know how else to say it: “You saved my life.”

He frowned and looked confused. “I did? How?”

“Don’t you remember? Just before the car hit us, you pushed me out of the way. You saved my life!”

Jason smiled one of his goofy smiles. “I did? Well then, I guess you owe me.” He was really smiling now. It was weird. Here he was in the back of an ambulance on his way to the hospital and he looked happier than I’d seen him in weeks, months even!

I smiled back, but I put a tone in my voice when I said: “Jason!”

“Don’t worry,” he laughed. I’m just kidding. By the way, did you see who hit me?”

“No. Not really. It all happened so fast.”

“Tell me about it!” He started to laugh then winced in pain. “Ow!”

“Jason,” I said, squeezing his hand gently, “I didn’t actually see the driver’s face, but . . .” I hesitated. I felt guilty about what I was about to say. Jason just looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression. “But it was a newer red car and-and Ben Thompson drives a newer red Camaro.”

Jason looked at me as if he expected me to say something more. “So?” he prodded. “Why would Ben Thompson want to hurt me?”

“He probably wasn’t trying to hit you,” I said slowly. “He was probably trying to hurt me and you just happened to be there.”
 

Jason pulled his hand out of mine and tried to sit up higher in the bed. I could see him wince in pain with the effort. Finally he looked me in the eye and said: “So why would Ben Thompson want to run you over?”

I took a deep breath. The ambulance was almost at the hospital and the paramedics were looking at me as if they wanted me to move aside so they could get Jason ready. “I guess I should have told you sooner, but Ben threatened me a couple of times. Once he even shoved me down.”

Jason tried to sit up even higher. I could see he was starting to breathe faster and he was beginning to look angry. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Ben threatened to hurt me—and you—if I didn’t drop the ghost thing. So you see,” I said earnestly, sitting forward and taking his hand again, “I couldn’t drop it. Not after Ben said that. If I did—”

Jason smiled and squeezed my hand. “I understand,” he said. “We can’t let the Bad Guys win!”

I smiled at Jason, relieved that he finally understood something I was doing. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Maybe there was even hope for us yet. Maybe.

The ambulance pulled up to the hospital emergency entrance and the Paramedics gently but firmly shoved me aside as they quickly jostled Jason out of the ambulance, put him on a gurney a nurse had brought out of the hospital, and then raced him into emergency.

I stepped through the automatic doors of the emergency entrance and the sights and sounds and smells of the hospital struck me full in the face! This was real!

Jason could have died!

I could have died!

For the first time I let those two thoughts out of the tiny cage I’d made for them way back in the darkest recesses of my mind.
 

Jason and I could have actually been KILLED! The thought was suddenly screaming through my mind, echoing down all the corridors of my brain.

Killed.

Dead.

Forever!

I’d heard adults say that kids have no concept of their own mortality, that is, it was impossible for kids to understand that they could die. I’d never really understood what they were talking about until right this very minute.

Dead!

I could be dead, forever and the world would continue just fine without me. As far as the world was concerned I meant absolutely nothing.

I shook my head. I couldn’t keep thinking about this. It was too big, too cosmic.

I had to hold onto something a little smaller, something a lot more concrete and easier to understand. Like the fact that someone thought I was such a threat that they were willing to kill me!
 

That must mean I was doing something right!
 

Now nothing could stop me!
 

Now, it was personal!

Chapter 25

The trap is baited!

The rest of that day and most of Sunday was spent at the hospital, visiting Jason. Fortunately there weren’t any permanent injuries. Other than a broken leg he was fine. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying all the attention he was getting!

His father spent almost as much time with him as my friends and I. In some ways I think the whole experience was good for both of them. Mr. Benson was shaved and dressed nicely when he came on Sunday, and his eyes looked more alert than I had seen them since Jason’s mother died. He even knew who I was and said ‘hi’.
 

But there was one visitor I hadn’t counted on.

It was lunch-time on Sunday. Jennifer, Wesley, Alan and I had spent most of the morning with Jason and were taking a break in the hospital cafeteria when Mr. Greenwald suddenly slipped in line behind us.
 

“Mr. Greenwald! How’d you know—”

“There was a write-up of the accident in the newspaper this morning. How’s Jason doing?”

“He’s O.K. He’s got a broken leg, but everything else is O.K. What are you doing here?”

Mr. Greenwald frowned, then pulled me out of line and toward an empty table. I looked at Jennifer, who immediately followed us. Alan hesitated a moment, looked at Wesley, and then he, too, followed us. Wesley had been complaining all morning about how hungry he was; he took one last look at all the food laid out behind the long counter, set his tray down, sighed, and followed us to the table as well.

Mr. Greenwald didn’t wait for the others to settle before he took my arm and looked me right in the eye. “Look, Miss Hoyle, I really want you to drop this investigation of yours. Someone has gotten hurt. He could have been killed. According to my friends at the police station, you could have been killed, too! Don’t you see, this is exactly what I’ve been worried about from the beginning!”

I looked at Mr. Greenwald’s worried face, then I looked around the table at the faces of all my friends. They looked worried, too. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Greenwald, but I can’t drop it. Not now. Especially not now!”

Mr. Greenwald let go my arm, sighed deeply, and sat back in his chair. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m impressed by your integrity, but I really wish you’d take a reality check. At least tell me what your plans are. Maybe I can help. I’ve still got connections on the police force because of my dad. Let me help.”

So I finally told everyone my plan for capturing the ghost.

When it came time to actually put my plan into words, it came out sounding really simple. Even I thought to myself: is that all there is? That can’t be a real plan, can it? But I didn’t say that part out loud. I just sat there, looking at my friends, but most of all waiting for Mr. Greenwald to say something.

He sat there for several seconds. I could tell he was seriously considering everything I’d said. Finally he looked at me, then looked at my friends. We were all sitting on the edges of out seats (literally!) waiting for his decision.
 

“I can’t recommend that you carry through with this plan,” he finally said. He didn’t look at me when he said it. He looked down at the table instead, as if he were studying some tiny detail of his hands. “The people you are dealing with are just too dangerous.”

I thought I’d be crushed if he didn’t like my plan, but I wasn’t. Not in the least. I had already made up my mind to catch the ghost; I didn’t need his or anyone else’s approval. “But what do you think about the plan itself? Do you think it would work?”

He hesitated, then finally looked me in the eye. “I think it’s a good plan. It’s simple. It’s direct. There’s nothing tricky or fancy about it, and that’s good. I have to commend you. Excellent work.”

I felt on top of the world! I looked at my friends and they were all smiling as big as I was! I felt like leaping in the air and shouting for joy!

Mr. Greenwald held up a hand. “It’s a good plan, but it’s still too dangerous. One of your friends is already in the hospital.” Mr. Greenwald stopped talking and looked at me, waiting until what he said had really sunk in. “And the people we think are involved in this could easily try to kill you again.”

Now it was my turn. I stood up, pursed my lips, and let my gaze sweep over everyone, one by one. “Mr. Greenwald is right,” I finally said. “Solving this mystery is going to be very dangerous. If anyone wants to drop out, I’ll understand. Really. I mean it.”

Wesley stood up. “Count me in. I want to see these creeps caught. I’ll do whatever you want, Patsy. But right now, I hear a hero sandwich over there that’s calling to me.” With that, Wesley crossed back to the buffet.
 

Alan stood up and pushed his glasses up with his finger. “You can count on me, too. Friends stick together. No matter what. But if you’ll excuse me, I hear an avocado and bean sprout sandwich calling my name.” With that, he gave me a quick smile, then hurried to join Wesley in the food line.

I looked at Jennifer. She looked at her perfect red nails and blew on one, as if blowing off a speck of dust. Then she looked at me. “Count me in. I, like, really believe in justice and I want to help catch these guys and put them in, like, jail, O.K.?” Then she leaned a little closer to me and whispered: “But can we eat somewhere else? Cafeteria food gives me the willies!” Her whole body shuddered for a second.

I smiled and looked at Mr. Greenwald. He smiled back at me and shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone with quite as much determination as you; or someone with braver or more loyal friends. You’re quite a young lady. And as for my part in your plan count me in. I’ll be there. Congratulations.” He made a small bow to me.

I can’t tell you how good all this made me feel. I felt ten feet tall. No, I felt a hundred feet tall!
 

I just prayed that my plan would work and no one else would get hurt!

* * *

Each of us sneaked out of our house that night. No one wanted to risk asking for permission and being told ‘no’. I know it was the wrong thing to do, I know it was dumb and dangerous—but we all did it anyway. If we had to do it all over again—we’d all sneak out again!

So far everything was right on schedule. The only thing I hadn’t been able to do was double-check on Mr. Greenwald, but I crossed my fingers and just hoped that he was in position.

This time we didn’t park at the bottom of the hill and hike to the top. This time Wesley drove us right to the student parking lot. There was a chain across the entrance to the lot, but Alan and I got out of the car and lifted the chain for Wesley to drive under.
 

We were all nervous and tense. This was it. We were really going through with it. And it was all my plan. Fortunately it was a simple plan.

The student lot was empty, just as I thought it would be. I looked at my watch. “Come on,” I whispered. “It’s five minutes till midnight. Let’s get into position!” I felt like a General in some war movie.

There was a lot more clanking and banging than I wanted as we got the shovels out of Wesley’s bug, but I guess it couldn’t be helped. The only way we’d been able to fit three long-handled shovels in the car in the first place was to open the sun roof and let them stick out the top. Things would have been easier if Jason had been with us; he was taller than the other guys and he could have reached up and gotten the shovels with a lot less ruckus.

But we got everything unloaded in good time. I looked at my watch once again. It was two minutes past midnight. The plan called for us to begin digging at twelve o-five. “All right, let’s get going,” I said in a loud whisper. I wasn’t sure why I was whispering, it just seemed like the right thing to do.
 

I grabbed a shovel and slung it over my shoulder as if it were a rifle and I were a soldier. Wesley and Alan followed my lead, also carrying shovels over their shoulders. Jennifer brought up the rear; I had promised her she didn’t have to do any digging if she’d keep an eye open for the ghost.

We must have looked quite a sight, all marching off as if to war. In a way, we were headed into battle. One casualty was already laid up in the hospital. If my plan worked, no one else would get hurt.

If it worked!

It took us just two or three minutes to reach the spot behind the principal’s office where Mr. Bell said he’d found the gold coin. The area was pretty dark, but our eyes were used to the dark by now and we had no trouble finding the spot. We all stood there, looking at the grass and the flower bed for a few seconds. Finally Wesley said: “It’s your plan, Patsy, you can have the honor.”

I nodded once, then put the tip of the shovel into the damp grass, put my foot on top of the shovel blade, and put all my weight on it. The shovel sank into the ground five or six inches. I stepped off the shovel and picked it up. A nice clod of dirt and grass was on the blade. I tossed it aside with a smile. “O.K., everyone, let’s find us some treasure!”

Then all three of us began to dig. Our shovels clanked into each other at first, until we developed a good rhythm. The work was actually going pretty well. In about ten minutes we had a rough hole about three feet deep and maybe four feet in diameter. Not great, but not bad. Certainly good enough for our purposes.