The Haunted (6 page)

“Kristen Maxwell was…” I broke off, and then tried again. “She was a…”

Someone near the front shifted and distracted me, and I felt the urge to clench my fists. I tried to spot Ben but couldn’t. So instead I decided to try his trick. I looked out at the crowd, picturing everyone in ridiculous underwear.

It kind of helped.

“I could tell you… all the good things that Kristen Maxwell was,” I read hesitantly. “A good daughter. A good friend. A good student. A good person. But that’s what you’d expect to hear. Who ever talks about all the bad qualities someone had after they’ve died?” My voice wavered, but I continued on. “But what was really important about Kristen was that she loved life. She loved living, and smiling, and just enjoying everything that came her way.
That
was her best trait.”

I looked over at the bridge. “We used to come here before the construction started. We’d hang out underneath the bridge and look at the water. Just talking and laughing. Spending time together. She really liked it here.” I started to get choked up, and
I fought to hold it back. “Even though she’ll never get to enjoy the simple things in life again,
I’ve
decided to enjoy them for her. To live each day to its fullest, and to always try to find the happiness in small things. Like Kristen did.”

Several people were dabbing at the corners of their eyes, and then thunderous applause broke out. They kept clapping and clapping, and I looked up into the cloud-covered sky.
These people are clapping for you, Kris.

Mayor Archer returned to the podium and the applause died down. “I’d like to thank Abigail Browning for her touching words,” he said, “and all of you for coming out. This bridge is hereby declared the Washington Irving Bridge, and is dedicated to the memory of Kristen Maxwell.”

The mayor smiled out at the crowd, but already people were starting to shift. Ready to move on. They separated into two distinct groups: Those who were moving toward us, no doubt looking for conversation, and those who were moving toward the parking lot in a polite stampede. They worked against each other, and it looked like everyone was gridlocked.

Mom and I just stood there, waiting for the incoming tidal wave until finally Dad reached us. I was in a sort of haze, blindly shaking proffered hands and saying “Thank you” as people told me what a great job I did, or how I had their sympathies. As
soon as I could, I latched on to Dad and put my arm around him.

It felt nice to have something solid to hold on to and just that small gesture helped me immediately feel more grounded.

Dad shook hands too, and he was able to reach more of them faster than I could. Eventually people stopped coming, and I took a moment to scan who was left. I didn’t see the Maxwells or Ben, but I managed to catch Mom’s attention for a second. “Did the Maxwells come?”

She shook her head. “They must have decided they just couldn’t do it.” She put a hand on my arm. “You did a great job, Abbey.”

I smiled at her. “Thanks, Mom. And thanks for standing up there with me.”

We were the last ones by the bridge now, except for Mayor Archer, and I figured that Mom and Dad would want to talk to him before we left. “I’m going to wait by the car,” I told her. “Don’t be long, okay?”

“Of course, of course,” she said, but I knew her thoughts were already elsewhere.

The traffic cop was gone, and I had to wait for several cars to pass before I could cross the street to the Old Dutch Church. Entering the parking lot, I noticed that there were only a handful
of cars left, and no one seemed to be around. I moved to the side of the church that was hidden from the main road and hopped up onto a low masonry rock wall that jutted out from the stone foundation.

It was quiet back here, and I had a full view of the older gravestones that made up this part of the cemetery. They were ornately carved and beautifully decorated with flowing cursive script that stood out in sharp relief against the granite. Many of the stones were doubles—final resting places for a husband and wife—and those always made my heart ache just a little bit.

I leaned back. The sun was peeking out from the clouds, and the rocks were pleasantly warm. I stretched my hands out behind me, feeling the contrasting smooth stone and rough mortar edges. Tipping my face upward, I closed my eyes. I was finally alone and comfortable.

A mosquito buzzed near my ear, and I swatted it away. I turned my head, thinking that it was just that. Nothing more than a bug.

But then I saw
them
.

A weird, shivery feeling passed through me, as goose bumps suddenly covered my whole body. My fingers tightened reflexively on the rocks, and I forced myself to relax.
It’s just a couple of people. No big deal.

They were walking among the graves on the far side of the cemetery. Weaving in and out around them. As they came closer, I could see what they were wearing. It was…
odd
. Even in a town that has its fair share of Goths and vampire wannabes, they definitely stuck out.

The guy wore baggy black skater shorts with a wallet chain attached, several layered long-sleeved red and black shirts that looked way too hot for summer, and carefully smudged Johnny Depp guyliner. A black Mohawk was the crowning touch.

The girl had on a black-and-purple plaid miniskirt, torn fishnets, and biker boots laced with teal shoelaces that matched her mini tee. Her hair was shoulder length, neon purple, with the bottom a pale blond about six inches up.

I didn’t know either of them, so I stayed sitting, hoping that they would keep moving on.

But my gut told me they wouldn’t.

Pasting on the fake smile that had served me so well at the bridge ceremony, I waited for them. They got within arm’s length and then stopped.

Both of them were extremely pale. Their skin was almost translucent. And it had the strangest sheen to it. Like vellum paper.
And I thought I was sun deficient
. Their eyes were strange
too. Very wide, and clear. If they had any hint of color to them, it was only the faintest shade of gray. They had to be brother and sister.

“Do you know where the nearest gas station is?” the girl asked. “I’m dying for a Coke.”

Her voice was
incredible
. Absolutely crystalline. I had the strangest notion that she’d just sung her question to me, and I felt all shivery again. Then my head cleared, and I tried to hide my simultaneously awed and weirded-out feelings.

“It’s um… well, there’s um…” It was like all my sense of direction was gone. My brain felt hazy. I tried again. “There’s, um, a gas station a couple blocks up here on your right. Just keep following the sidewalk… I think.…”

The guy smiled at me, and the girl chirped her thanks. They both stared until I dropped my gaze.

“Do you live around here?” the songstress asked me.

“Yeah, I’m Abbey Browning.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She smiled, revealing a perfect row of dainty white teeth. “I’m Cacey, and this is Uri.”

I nodded, wondering if I should, like, shake their hands or something. They both watched me with their pale eyes, and it was incredibly unnerving.

“You don’t really want a Coke, do you?” I said, not even realizing why I was saying it.

Uri shot a glance over at Cacey, then said, “Maybe. Maybe not.” His voice was low pitched, with a beautiful timbre to it. Like warm chocolate sliding over rich velvet.

My entire scalp broke out in creepy crawlies. It felt like dozens of baby spiders were suddenly swarming across my head and tap dancing down my spine.

It was
not
a pleasant feeling.

“Well, it was nice to meet you guys.” I stood up. “But I have to go. My parents are waiting for me.”

“Okay,” Cacey said. It didn’t look like she was blinking at all. “We just have one more question for you.”

I should have walked away. I should have left them behind and gone to Mom and Dad and told them to drive me away from there as fast as they could.

But I didn’t. I stayed.

“Were you friends with Kristen Maxwell?” Uri asked. “The girl who drowned in the river here?”

I froze. This was beyond creepy now. Even though I’d just given a speech about Kristen’s death, this just felt
wrong
. Very, very wrong. Like they shouldn’t have
known
that. “Why do you want to know?” My voice was almost a whisper.

“We heard about what happened. That’s all,” he said.

Suddenly, a completely carefree, everything’s-fine-now feeling washed over me. I had the most insane urge to laugh everything off. But it almost felt… forced. I knew I
shouldn’t
be feeling all fine and dandy. What was going on here? All I could think to say was, “Okay. Well, I really do have to get going. See ya.”

My mouth felt funny, and I swallowed hard. Someone must have been burning leaves or something, because I could taste it on my tongue.

“Bye, Abbey,” Cacey trilled. “Catch you later.”

The spiders came back and did double time on my spine, and I walked away as fast as I could.

N
EW
P
LANS

From hence the low murmur of his pupils’ voices… might be heard in a drowsy summer’s day…

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

I wanted to visit the cemetery the next day, but I had to take a trip to Hollow High to return my junior-year textbooks.

When I’d left school in February to go stay with Aunt Marjorie, all of the teachers gave me schoolwork to take with me so I wouldn’t have to make everything up when I returned. But science had been an issue. I’d had a really tough time with my assignments, and I hadn’t gotten very good grades.

Mom and Dad had been pretty lenient, since I had extenuating circumstances and all, but now Mr. Knickerbocker and I were going to have to talk. I didn’t want to repeat chemistry my senior year.

It was weird being inside the school with no students. Emptiness hung in the halls. Rows of silver lockers stood barren and waiting for the next batch of teenagers that would call them home for nine months. Wooden floors squeaked under my feet, and I looked down, realizing they were freshly buffed and polished.

Hiking up my book bag, I walked to the administration office. It was a small room, painted in a warm vanilla shade, with lots of pictures on the wall. Mrs. Frantz sat behind the desk with a pencil tucked behind one ear and glasses falling off the tip of her nose. She looked up from her computer and gave me an easy smile.

“Hi, dear. What can I do for you?”

I unzipped my bag and pulled out a stack of books. “Just need to return these.” I piled them onto the desk, where they took up almost the entire surface.

She gave me a wry look and sighed. “I’ll take care of them.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait,” she said. “Let me get you a return slip.” She opened up a side drawer and dug through for a minute, then pulled out a sheet of paper. After cutting off one side of it, she scribbled her name and then handed it to me.

I tucked the paper into my back pocket. “Thanks. Do you know if Mr. Knickerbocker is still here?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She had already returned to her computer work. “Check the gymnasium. Sometimes he helps coach the track team. They have practice today.”

Leaving the administration office behind, I hurried to the gym to find him. As I got closer, I could hear sounds spilling out through the open doors. I poked my head in and saw a group of kids doing leg stretches in the corner. They each wore matching blue-and-gold warm-up suits with the logo of the Headless Horseman mascot emblazoned on the side.

But Mr. Knickerbocker wasn’t there.

I walked in anyway, figuring that I’d ask one of the runners if they knew where he was, and was surprised to see a girl I sort of recognized from English class. She was standing apart from the main group, bending over to touch her toes. Her long, dark brown hair was gathered in a ponytail, and her smooth skin glowed like she had a permanent tan. I waited for her to notice me.

It took about five seconds.

“Abbey?” She stood up and came over to me. “Are you joining the track team?”

“Me? No. I’m looking for Mr. Knickerbocker. Do you know where he is?”

She leaned into a side stretch. “Nope. Why?”

“I have to talk to him about something.” My brain spazzed as I tried to remember her name.
Beth.
That was it.

Beth turned and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Lewis! Yo! Come here.”

A tall boy with shaggy black hair and the biggest smile I had ever seen left the leg-stretching group and came to join us. “What’s up?” Then he turned to look at me. “Hey, I thought you transferred or something.”

I could feel my face turning red. “No. I was, um, sick. Mono.”

“Do you know where Mr. Knickerbocker is?” Beth asked him. “She’s looking for him.”

“He’s in his office,” Lewis replied. “Or he was, like ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll head there.”

“Hey, Abbey,” Beth said suddenly. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” I said. “See you guys in September.”

I found Mr. Knickerbocker in his office just like Lewis had said. He had two neatly stacked piles of paper in front of him and was methodically rearranging them.