The Haunted (10 page)

A chill washed over her, a feeling she had not experienced since … since …

She took a deep breath.

“Miles?” she said softly.

“Do you
feel
anything at our house?”

“Not this again.”

Claire and her sister were standing in their parents’ backyard, looking toward the mountains. Behind them, their father was weeding the garden. Their mother was in the house, preparing lunch. Claire had come over because she knew Diane would be here—it was her weekend to check in with the folks—and she hadn’t wanted to remain home by herself. She’d left a note for Julian telling him where she was, and her cell phone was on, but so far he hadn’t called.

“I was alone in the house this morning,” Claire told her sister, keeping her voice low so their father couldn’t hear. “And I found the laundry basket in the middle of the hall. It wasn’t there ten minutes before. I was the only one in the house.”

“Maybe—”

“No!” Claire insisted. She lowered her voice. “It’s not the first time it’s happened.” She explained how she’d come home last week after they’d gone to lunch and found the laundry basket in the middle of the kitchen.
Then she described how Julian’s record had played itself, though no one was upstairs and Julian was out of the house.

“Every time you move, you do this. Look, your new house isn’t haunted, your old house wasn’t haunted, and I’m beginning to think there wasn’t anything at your place in California.” She shot Claire a quick apologetic look. “Sorry.”

Claire sighed, shook her head. “That’s okay.”

“You do this all the time.”

“Maybe you’re right. It’s just—”

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t even say it.”

The two of them were silent, remembering. Behind them, they heard their father’s trowel digging into the dirt.

“Hey,” Diane said, changing the subject, “did you hear about Mr. Otano at the library? He’s being laid off. Budget cuts.”

“He’s been there since
we
were little.”

“They’re only going to be open Monday, Wednesday and Friday, with one part-time librarian and the rest volunteers.”

“Jesus.”

“Remember when I was thinking of being a librarian?” Diane shook her head. “I’m glad I didn’t go into
that
field.”

“I always thought it suited you better, though.”

Diane shrugged. “People don’t read anymore. But the demand for electricity only goes up.”

“Depressing but true.”

The two of them walked back into the house to help their mother set the table for lunch. She’d told them she’d be making BLT sandwiches, but when they entered the kitchen, she was heating up barley soup on the stove. A flicker of worry crossed Claire’s mind. Both she
and Diane were concerned that their mother had started to forget things lately, and she hoped this was just a result of not having the right ingredients for her original meal rather than a symptom of memory loss. She shot Diane a look, received and acknowledged, and, clearing her throat, said, “I thought we were having sandwiches, Mom.”

Their mother looked up, startled to see them. “Oh!” She smiled. “You’re right. We were. But I found out that we were out of bacon. And tomatoes.”

Relieved, Claire went over to the sink to wash her hands, and she and her sister started setting the table, Diane getting out the bowls and cups, Claire taking care of the silverware and napkins. Ten minutes later, their father was called in, and all four of them sat down.

They discussed family matters as they ate, in-laws and grandkids, gossip, until her dad, sipping his soup, frowned at Claire. “You know,” he said, “I had a dream about your house the other night.”

She lowered her spoon, the skin prickling on her arms, and glanced quickly over at her sister.

“What happened?” Diane asked.

He frowned, shaking his head. “I can’t remember exactly. But it was some kind of nightmare, because your mother said I was thrashing around and calling out in my sleep. She had to wake me up.”

“I did!”

Claire’s heart was pounding.

Her dad spoke slowly, and she wasn’t sure whether the import that gave his words was intentional or not. “The only thing I remember,” he said, and Claire felt cold, because she knew what was coming next, “is that it had something to do with your basement.”

Finally,
her
friends were going to be able to stay over, and Megan planned for the slumber party by writing down lists of food, drinks, games, movies, everything they would need. She didn’t want to leave anything to chance, and as each item was found or purchased, each task completed, she made a check next to the entry on the appropriate list. Her parents had even arranged for James to spend the night at Robbie’s house, so she and her friends would have the place to themselves, and that alone was worth the wait.

James’s friend might have stayed over first, but she was going to have a
party
. And it was going to be good.

The day of, everything went smoothly.

Until it didn’t.

After lunch, her dad took James over to his friend’s house, while Megan and her mom baked brownies and mixed together the dip for potato chips. When her dad returned, he took her over to Safeway, where she rented two
Twilight
DVDs from the Redbox. There were three girls coming over, and originally she’d planned for all of them to camp out in the living room, but her dad had put the brakes on that idea (“I’m not giving up my entire evening for your friends,” was what he’d said, and she’d been tempted to respond, “Why don’t you find something to
do besides watch TV all night?” but she sensed that this was not the time to push back). She’d then thought about having two of her friends spend the night in James’s room (that would drive her brother crazy!), but since it was her party, she knew that whoever didn’t get to sleep in
her
room would feel slighted. And she didn’t want to make enemies of any of her friends.

So she’d decided to rearrange her own room so there’d be enough space for everyone. It was harder than she’d thought, not just because she needed to create an area big enough for two sleeping bags and the feather mattress (she was still going to sleep in her bed), but because she needed to put away things that weren’t cool and replace them with things that were. The last thing she needed was to get a reputation as a geek or a nerd.

She was removing a World Wildlife Federation poster of a herd of running horses from the wall at the head of her bed when her iPhone beeped. Putting the tacks down on top of her dresser, Megan picked up the phone and looked at the message on-screen.

Take off your pants.

She erased it, her heart thumping crazily.

The message popped up again.

Take off your pants.

A bolt of fear shot through her.

“Mom!” she yelled. “Mom!”

Her mother came hurrying up the stairs and into her room. “What is it?” Megan immediately handed over the phone. A shadow crossed over her mom’s face as she read the text. “Who sent this?”

“I don’t know!” Megan was almost crying.

“Have you ever gotten anything like this before?”

There was a second’s pause, too short to be noticed. “No.” Her mind was whirring. She was scared, and she was glad that she’d shown this to her mom—

Take off your pants.

—because it was too serious to keep to herself. Her parents needed to know about it. But if her mom found out about the other weird messages Megan had received, she would definitely take her phone away—and probably restrict her Internet access. She might do that anyway, but Megan wasn’t going to
help
her.

“Who do you
think
would send you something like this? Is there a boy from one of your classes … ?”

“I don’t
know
!” Megan insisted. And she didn’t.

Only …

Only she didn’t think it was anyone familiar, did she? No. For whatever reason, she thought it was a man, an adult, someone she didn’t know but who somehow knew her. She had no idea where she’d gotten this impression or why she believed it to be true, but she did.

“Well, I’m keeping your phone until we get everything sorted out. I don’t like this at all, and your father won’t, either. This is scary stuff. There are all sorts of predators out there, and until we find out who’s doing this, I don’t want you calling, texting, tweeting, IM-ing or anything like that. Do you understand?”

Megan nodded. In a way, she was relieved. She needed to get hold of her friends and tell them not to send any texts or leave any embarrassing messages, but at least she didn’t have to worry about some psycho pervert harassing her. She could just get on with her life and concentrate on her slumber party.

Maybe it was someone who found out about the party but wasn’t invited. …

No. It was a man. Besides, she didn’t have the kind of social standing that would make anyone jealous of not being invited. Her friends were probably the only ones who would
want
to sleep over.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, and smiled gratefully.

“If anything else like this comes up—”

“I’ll tell you.”

Her mother smiled back, and Megan returned to rearranging her room, although she could not help peeking out the window at the street outside as she took the horse poster off her wall.

Zoe arrived early, shortly after three. Her mother said that she’d been antsy all day, and she’d finally given in and brought her over. While the moms talked downstairs, Megan led Zoe up to her room and let her pick out a sleeping spot. “First come, first served.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“My bed.”

“I’ll sleep next to the bed, on the feather mattress.”

Megan grinned. “Then I guess Julie and Kate get the floor.”

Zoe went downstairs, said good-bye to her mom, and brought up her luggage, placing it next to the spot where she’d be sleeping. “I brought a Ouija board,” she said, pulling the Parker Brothers box out of her suitcase.

Megan said nothing, although the idea made her uncomfortable. It was just a game, she told herself. A mass-produced product stamped out by a factory and sold in toy stores. But it still made her feel uneasy, and she changed the subject, explaining that she’d rented
two
movies for tonight, and that they were going to have not only pizza for dinner but ice cream and brownies for dessert.

Megan was glad Zoe had come early. Zoe was her best friend, and the two of them had time to talk a little, gossip and plan, before the other two girls came over.

Julie and Kate arrived together shortly after five, driven by Kate’s mom. It was so nice not having James around, and the four of them ate pizza, watched one of the
Twilight
movies, ate dessert, watched the other
movie, and then went upstairs, ostensibly to bed. But the moment the door was closed, Zoe got out her Ouija board.

“I don’t—” Megan began.

“Cool!” Julie took the box from Zoe, opening one end and tipping it. An instruction book fell out, and she handed the box back to Zoe, picking up the instructions.

Zoe took out the board itself, putting it on her lap.

“What’s a planchette?” Julie asked, reading.

“It’s this pointer.” Taking it out of the box, Zoe placed it on the board, a heart-shaped piece of plastic with short felt-tipped legs.

Julie continued to read the directions. “So, we …”

Kate pulled the booklet out of her hands. “Come on. Everyone knows how to use a Ouija board. It’s not brain surgery.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay, then,” Megan said. “You’re responsible for writing things down.” She handed Julie a pen and a Hello Kitty notepad before sitting down on the floor next to Zoe and Kate, the three of them forming a triangle. They each placed a portion of the board on their laps, adjusting it until it was as flat as possible, then placing their curved fingers atop the planchette in the center of the board.

“So it’s going to spell things out, and I just write them down?” Julie asked uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Zoe told her. “Now everyone be quiet. And concentrate.” She took a deep breath. “Is there anyone there?” she asked in a solemn voice.

Nothing happened. They waited a few moments; then Zoe spoke again. “Is someone there?”

The planchette started to slide slowly across the board

“You’re pushing it!” Kate accused Zoe.

“No, I’m not!”

“
I’m
not moving it,” Megan said.

“No one’s moving it,” Zoe told them. “It’s working. Now just shut up and concentrate.” The pointer had stopped sliding, but they all quieted down, and in a moment it started up again, moving over the board in an ever-widening circle. When it came close to the edge, the pattern changed, and it began sliding slowly to the left and right before finally stopping, its tip pointing to a letter on the top row of the alphabet.

“I!”
Zoe announced.

Julie wrote it down.

The pointer moved again.

“C!”

It slid over to the opposite side of the board.

“U!”

I C U Megan

Megan lifted her hands before the device could move any farther.

“Hey!”

“What are you doing?”

“Megan!”

Her friends cried out in surprise and disappointment, but she didn’t want to know where this was going, didn’t want the next letter to be
M
. She still wasn’t sure she believed that the Ouija board actually worked, but she was starting to, and she was afraid to see where the pointer would land.

What if it spelled out,
Take off your pants
?

“I’m not playing anymore,” Megan said.

“Are you scared?” Zoe teased.

“Yes,” she stated matter-of-factly, and that shut them up. Suddenly, all of them seemed a little nervous, and Megan helped Zoe put the pieces of the game back in the box. Julie handed back the instructions.

For a moment, none of them were sure of what to do.

“I know,” Julie said brightly. “Let’s play Truth or Dare.”

“Yeah!” They all thought that was a good idea, but before they played the game, they decided to change into their pajamas, each of them taking turns in the bathroom. Megan was last, and her friends were giggling when she came back into the bedroom. She was afraid she’d missed something, but Zoe, sensing her concern, said, “We were just laughing at Kate’s pj’s.”