The Howler (3 page)

I swallowed. Was I really seeing a ghost?

The old woman stared out at us with glassy eyes. She seemed to stare into the distance, as if watching for someone else.

She stood so still. Her faded blouse was tattered and stained. A faded brown hat covered her hair. Her hands were hidden in the ragged pleats of the long, old-fashioned skirt.

“I—I don’t believe it,” I murmured. I realized I was trembling.

Scott reached for the light switch. “Let’s leave her in peace,” he whispered.

“No, wait,” Vanessa said. She took a few steps forward.

“No—stop!” Scott grabbed her. “Don’t go any closer. She might be dangerous.”

Vanessa pulled away from him. She stepped closer to the ghost.

“Stop!” Scott cried.

Too late. Vanessa stepped up to the ghost—and pulled off her head.

“Huh?” I gasped. “It’s…it’s a dummy?”

Vanessa laughed. “It took you long enough, Spencer!” she declared. “I knew it was a dummy as soon as I saw it.”

Scott laughed. “I gotcha good, Spencer. You should have seen the look on your face!”

He took the wooden head from Vanessa and placed it back on top of the body. “Actually, it’s an old dress dummy my parents found up here when we moved in. Women used it for sewing dresses and stuff. Dad put the head on it a couple of Halloweens ago.”

He pointed at me and laughed loudly again. “Suck-er!”

I let out a sigh. I felt like a total jerk. What could be worse than being fooled by that idiot Scott?

The whole school would hear about it by tomorrow, I knew.

I angrily kicked a carton out of my way and started toward the steps. I stormed out of his house and ran across the driveway to my yard. My hands were balled into angry fists. I wanted to go back and punch Scott’s fat face until
he
was a ghost.

I
hated
feeling like such a jerk. But I knew it was because I needed to believe. I was so desperate to contact Ian, I’d even believe Scott!

Vanessa came running after me. She stopped me
halfway through my kitchen door. “Lighten up, Spencer,” she said. “You’ve just got to get over this ghost thing. Just forget about it.”

When I turned to her, I suddenly felt like crying. “I…I don’t think I can,” I whispered.

That night, I think I saw Ian’s ghost.

After dinner, I was fiddling with the specter detector, when Nick burst into my room. He shoved the end of a candy bar into his mouth and tossed the wrapper onto my floor.

“What’s that?” he asked, chewing noisily. Chocolate ran down over his chin.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered. I wasn’t in the mood to fight with him.

“It’s another ghost detector—isn’t it!” Nick said. He grinned at me. He had chocolate stuck to his teeth. “You know what you are, Spencer? You are one of those loonies. You’ve become a nutcase.”

“Takes one to know one,” I muttered.

“You’re out there. You’re really out there,” Nick said, still grinning. “You’re out there searching for ghosts and goblins, right? With all the other nutcases. Ooh—look out, Spencer. You’d better search for UFOs too. You might find a UFO, Spencer. Wouldn’t that be a thrill?”

“Give me a break,” I groaned. I really don’t—”

“Look out!” he shouted. “I see something. Oh, no!
Duck!
Here comes a UFF!”

And he slapped me in the back of the head—so hard, I went sailing off my chair.

“Hey—stop it!” I shouted.

“Didn’t you see it coming? You got hit by a UFF! Unidentified Flying Fist.” He laughed as if he’d just made the funniest joke in the world.

I rubbed the back of my head. “You’re a total creep,” I muttered.

“Don’t sit there. You could be in the path of another UFF,” Nick warned. “Go downstairs and make me a sandwich.”

“Huh? A sandwich? We just ate dinner an hour ago!” I said.

“Yeah. A whole hour ago,” he repeated. He raised his hand. “Better hurry. Here comes another UFF.”

I climbed unhappily to my feet. “What kind of sandwich?” I groaned.

“Don’t ever ask me what kind,” Nick snapped. “Just make sure it’s something good.”

He swung his hand, trying to slap me again as I passed by him. But I ducked, and the slap only brushed the top of my hair.

Out in the hall, I turned and yelled back to him. “I could use a little support, you know!”

He burped really loud in reply. Nice guy, huh?

But then, at least, he took the sandwich I made to
his room and didn’t pester me for the rest of the night.

I spent another hour or so discovering what I already knew—the specter detector was a piece of junk. I unplugged it and heaved it into the trash.

A little before eleven, I changed into pajamas. The winter wind rattled the panes in my bedroom window. I stepped over to the window and peered out.

From my window, I could see the tops of the snow-covered evergreen trees around the shore of Wellman Lake. And I could see a wide section of the frozen lake. The ice glowed dully under the light of a bright half-moon.

On moonless nights it was too dark to see the lake. On those nights, it looked like an enormous black pit stretching beyond the trees.

A deep, dark pit.

That’s what the lake was. A deep, dark pit that could hold a person forever.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and gazed out. My eyes swept over the snow-covered yards. The streets had been plowed earlier that afternoon. High banks of snow lined the curbs.

The wind shook the panes again. The dark trees outside seemed to shiver.

And then just beyond the trees, on the shimmering gray surface of the icy lake, something caught my eye. Something moving across the lake.

Something glowing, moving rapidly, steadily. The glow slid between the trees.

I raised my hands to the sides of my face and gazed harder.

And saw a boy gliding across the ice. Glistening, a soft blue light surrounding him. Such a cold light sweeping around him as he glided so smoothly over the frozen lake.

All by himself, a boy, glowing against the darkness. Skating so smoothly, so sweetly.

“Ian—is that you?” I said out loud. My heart pounding. My whole body trembling as I continued to stare out.

“Ian—it is you—isn’t it! Don’t move! Don’t leave! I’m coming!”

I whirled away from the window and hurried to get dressed.

I was still tugging on my coat as I raced outside. A burst of frozen air greeted me.

It had been snowing for two days. My boots sank into the powdery snow. The wind blew snow down from the trees as I started to run.

I glanced back at the house. I saw a light in my parents’ room. Did they hear me go out? Maybe I should have told them, I thought.

But they would ask why. And then I’d have to explain.

And then they would think I’m crazy.

They think my interest in ghosts is just a hobby. A stage I’m going through. Something I will grow out of.

They don’t know the real reason I want to believe in ghosts. They don’t know how desperate I am to find my cousin.

“Ian? Hey—Ian?” I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted his name as I ran through the
dark, snow-covered evergreen trees to the lakeshore.

Gusts of wind sent powdery snow blowing over the icy lake. The snow swirled up, forming weird shapes, like ghosts rising from the ice. Under the light of the half-moon, the trees cast long shadows stretching over the surface.

“Ian? Are you here?” My voice was muffled in the wind.

I searched the ice for the blue light. For the boy skating so smoothly inside the glow. But the silver-gray ice reflected only the dark, shifting shadows.

“Ian?”

I stopped. My throat tightened. I suddenly had trouble breathing.

I haven’t been here in a year, I thought.

I haven’t stood here since that horrible day.

A wave of fright swept over me. I felt paralyzed. I had the strange feeling that I could no longer move. That I would never move again.

But Ian was here. I
knew
he was. I had seen him.

Without even realizing it, I took a few steps onto the ice.

Only darkness now. And the howl of the wind. The creak of tree branches. Snow flying over the frozen lake.

I took a few more steps. The ice was hard and solid under my boots.

“Ian? Are you here?” I called. “It’s me—Spencer!”

The wind swept around me. A cold blast of air
blew down the collar of my coat, sending a chill along the back of my neck.

I shielded my eyes from the moonlight and squinted across the ice, searching for the blue glow. “Ian?”

I took a few more steps. And then my boot slid over something. A bump in the ice.

Before I could catch my balance, I had fallen to my knees. I gasped when I saw the slender tracks. Two lines cut into the fresh powder of snow.

Ice-skate tracks.

“Hey!” Bending low to see them clearly, I began to follow the tracks. They led me in a wide circle.

The tracks were fresh. Sharp and clean. They had to be made just minutes ago. The twin tracks curved in a broad circle. Then they turned and led straight out to the center of the lake.

Were these Ian’s tracks? The tracks of his ghost?

The thought started my shivers again, I pulled my coat tighter and forced my trembling legs to keep moving.

“Oh, wow.” I stopped and stared down, blinking at the ice. The tracks stopped.

They ended at a low drift of snow. Just ended.

I brushed the snow away with both hands. No skate marks on the ice beneath it. I stood up and walked in a wide circle, trying to find where the tracks began again.

But they didn’t. They just ended. As if the skater
suddenly floated off the lake, up to the sky.

Or sank below the ice.

Shuddering, my teeth chattering, I turned away. The evergreen trees suddenly appeared far away. I didn’t realize I had followed the tracks so far out onto the ice.

The gusting wind grew sharper, burning my cheeks. Snow blew around my boots, my legs.

I heard a creaking sound.

Was the ice too thin this far out? Was it starting to crack under my weight?

“No. Please,” I whispered.

Carefully, I started to make my way back toward shore.

I heard another
creak
. So close behind me.

I leaned forward into the wind and began to skate, sliding my boots over the snowy ice, taking long strides.

The trees still seemed so far in the distance. The wind blew harder, as if trying to keep me from the shore.

Another
creak
. A cracking sound. So loud, so close.

I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself forward.

One sliding step…another…another.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I let out a shriek of horror as a hand reached up from the cracking ice—and grabbed me by the ankle.

“AAAGGGH!” A scream of horror burst from my throat.

I kicked hard. And fell.

My hands hit the ice first, sending pain jolting down my arms.

I landed on my stomach. Struggled to my knees. Spun around, gasping, panting like an animal.

I screamed again when I saw the hand gripped around my ankle.

No. Wait…

Not a hand. Not a hand reaching up from the frozen depths of the lake.

My whole body shook wildly as I plucked it off my leg. A glove. A dark leather glove. Probably left on the ice by a skater.

I brought the glove close to my face and studied it. It sagged, limp in my fingers.

But…it had
gripped
me! A moment before, it was hard and firm. I had felt it tighten around my ankle.

But how could that be?

With a shuddering cry, I tossed it away. Tossed it across the ice.

Then I scrambled home.

I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. But I couldn’t stop shaking.

I can’t go back there, I told myself. I can’t. It’s too terrifying.

But I saw something. Those tracks in the ice. The blue glow. I saw something.

Ian—was it you?

I’ll keep trying to find you. I promise.

After school the next day, I met Vanessa in front of her locker. We had planned to walk into town. Vanessa wanted to buy some art supplies for a new painting she was working on.

She hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders and zipped up her bright red parka. “How’s it going?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t ask. Scott told everyone in school about how I freaked when I saw the dummy in his attic. Everywhere I go, I see kids laughing at me.”

Vanessa tsk-tsked. “Scott is such a jerk.”

I turned and saw him trotting down the hall toward us. “Come on—hurry!” I cried. I pulled Vanessa to the front doors. We burst outside and started to run.

The sky was gray, filled with thick black clouds
threatening more snow. A sharp wind forced me back a step. I lowered my head and kept running.

“Wait up!” I heard Scott calling from the steps in front of the school. “I just saw a ghost!” His laughter floated after us.

I picked up speed, turned, and ducked into the narrow alley that led away from the playground.

“Where are you going?” Vanessa cried breathlessly. Her breath rose up in white puffs in front of her.

“I don’t care,” I said. “I have to get away from Scott!”

The alley was narrow. It ran along the backyards of houses on either side. Trash cans stood outside low fences. Stacks of old newspapers, covered in snow, were piled beside them.

“Stop running,” Vanessa demanded, trotting beside me. “What are we doing in this alley? We never go this way. You can stop. Scott isn’t following us.”

“I want to keep running forever,” I said. “Everyone was laughing at me today. Everyone.”

“So what are you going to do?” Vanessa demanded, “Run away from home because Scott played a dumb trick on you, and now kids are teasing you about it?” She grabbed my coat sleeve and pulled me to a stop.

I kicked a clump of snow. “I don’t know. I hate being the joke of the school. But—”

I blinked. Snow from a tree overhead had fallen
onto my forehead. I brushed it away—and stared at the little store across the street.

“Where are we?” I asked. We had come out on a block I didn’t recognize.

“I think this is Oak. Or maybe it’s Chambers,” Vanessa said. “I never use that alley, so—”

The store caught her eye too. It looked more like a house than a store, with faded gray shingles and shutters painted black. I squinted at the sign above the door:
LITTLE HOUSE OF SPIRITS
.

“What is that store?” I asked. “Is it new?”

We crossed the street. I led the way onto the small front stoop. “Is it open?” Vanessa asked. “It doesn’t look as if it’s open.”

I peered into the window. There was no display. No hint of what the store sold. And then I spotted a small hand-lettered sign:
GHOST SUPPLIES
.

“Huh?” I let out a gasp. “Is this for real?”

Vanessa tugged my arm. “Let’s go, Spencer. You know it isn’t for real.”

I gazed at the little sign.
GHOST SUPPLIES…

“You know that stuff is a waste of money,” Vanessa insisted.

I grabbed the door handle. “Come on. Let’s just see what they have,” I said.