Wouldn't it Be Ghoulish
October 5
Trixie flopped back on her bed, arms outstretched, and stared up at her ceiling. She had an enormous amount of homework to finish, including several assignments that were already late. School policy was a deduction of ten points off each day past the original due date. If she didn’t finish at least some of the work, she was looking at zeroes in more than one class.
But she found it was next to impossible to concentrate. The words in her textbooks seem to swim upon the page as her attention wandered. So far, Mart had found nothing of note that might lead them to a solution to their predicament, though he'd gone to town to spend the afternoon at the library. His last text message update was less than promising.
Was it really possible that this was her life now? Was she really looking at a future that consisted of helping unhappy haunts find their way to their just rewards? She grimaced as she considered it. It didn’t seem like an occupation that would actually provide an income, and she highly doubted there was a reputable college anywhere in the country that offered a BA in Dealing with Difficult Spirits.
Another thought had occurred to her, though, as she’d made a failed attempt to focus on her algebra assignment. Did she really want to be released from this spell? As bad as it was to have such a steady stream of spooks clamoring for her attention, what would happen if her ability to see and communicate with them was lost? Would she then lapse into paranoia, knowing that ghosts were real and wondering if one was near her, watching her? The very idea was enough to give her chills.
“Yowww.”
She turned and watched as Clyde made the somewhat awkward leap from her old streamer trunk up onto her bed. “Hey, Clyde,” she said, lifting a hand to scratch his head. “How are you, kitty cat?”
Clyde turned in a circle and snuggled up at her side, purring loudly. For several minutes, Trixie absently pet the animal as she tried to sort through her morose thoughts. The chirping of her cell phone alerted her to a text message, and she rolled to her side to snatch the device from her nightstand.
Beautiful day. Let’s go riding.
Honey’s invitation was highly appealing. If she wasn’t accomplishing anything in her room anyway, perhaps a few hours of sunshine and fresh air would clear her mind. There was always the worry that they might encounter a wandering ghost somewhere in the preserve, and certainly Honey would think it strange if Trixie started a conversation with someone who “wasn’t there,” since there would be no reason for her to carry out the “act” with only her friend as an audience, but she decided the risk was worth it. She quickly tapped out a reply.
meet in stable in 15 min
“I’ll be back in awhile, Clyde. Hold down the fort.”
“Yow.”
She stopped only long enough to grab her Bob-White jacket and let her mother know where she was going before letting herself out through the kitchen door.
When she reached the Wheeler stable, Honey was already there and saddling Strawberry. “Regan asked if you wouldn’t mind taking out Lady today,” she said with quick smile. “Miss Trask already exercised Susie this morning and he’s out with Jupiter now.”
“Sure. No prob.”
As they set off, Honey assumed the lead. She chose a path that would take them to the northern end of the Wheeler property, away from the lake and winding Glen Road. They rode single file, making conversation difficult, but Trixie was content to simply enjoy the ride. It wasn’t until they’d come to a sunny clearing and Honey suggested they stop and rest that Trixie realized her friend wanted to talk.
They sat in the shade of a towering Hemlock. Trixie plucked a few blades of grass from the dirt and tore them to small pieces before letting them drop to the ground again, waiting for the other girl to speak.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Honey said quietly. “A lot. And Trix? You aren’t that good of an actress.”
“Uh, huh?” Trixie looked away, focusing her gaze on a small grey squirrel foraging about in the underbrush. She wasn’t sure where Honey was going with this, and she wasn’t sure at all how to respond.
“I’ve tried and tried to think of any reasons to explain… everything, but nothing makes sense outside of the one thing that seems impossible.” Honey paused to draw in a deep breath. “And that’s that as crazy as it sounds, you’re really seeing ghosts.”
Trixie hesitated before finally bobbing her head in a nod. “We are. We really are. Dan and Mart and me. And it doesn’t just sound crazy. It is crazy. You have no idea how crazy the past several days have been for us.”
“How… I mean, what happened? Start at the beginning, Trix, and tell me everything.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What is it?” Honey asked, studying her friend closely as they stepped out of the stable.
Trixie looked up from her phone. “I’m not entirely sure. Dan just texted me a 911 and said to get over to Crimper’s as soon as possible. Uh… is there any chance you could give me a ride into town?”
“Sure. Of course. Let me go get my keys and purse. I’ll be right back.” As Honey hurried off, Trixie tapped out a reply message.
whats going on?
Just get here. Fast.
She blew out a breath and shoved her phone into her pocket. Perfect. What now?
There were several parking spaces available in front of Sleepyside’s oldest department store. Time – and shopping malls – had marched on, while the Crimper family held fast to their quaint downtown store. As Trixie clambered from Honey’s car, she yanked out her phone again.
I’m here where RU
Tearoom
Trixie blinked. Tearoom? She pulled open one of the glass doors and rushed inside, heading straight for the escalator that would take her to the second floor, Honey on her heels.
The tearoom was even more deserted than the rest of the store. Trixie barely spared a glance for the two older women sitting at a table near the large windows that ran the length of one wall, chatting quietly as they shared a small meal.
Instead, her attention was fully on Dan and his... companion. “Oh, my...”
“Is - is he alone?” Honey whispered from behind her.
“Nope.” Trixie grinned as she approached his table. Dan’s eyes met hers and she could see the desperate plea in his gaze, along with the puzzled glance thrown in Honey’s direction.
“So, then I said to Mabel, did I tell you Mabel is my dearest friend? I said to Mabel, ‘Can you believe the nerve of that man? To suggest that I didn’t know my own mind in picking out fabric for my drapes? Why he was nothing but a ridiculous little popinjay! As if he had any opinion on my living room!’ Sit up, boy! Didn’t I already tell you not to slump like that? And hold your cup like a proper gentleman. Goodness! What is the world coming to, that a young man doesn’t even understand the simplest behaviors of polite society?”
Dan straightened and slowly lifted his teacup, pinky finger held at an angle. “We – I’m on my third pot,” he said to Trixie through clenched teeth. “I’d really like to go to the men’s room, now.”
“I’m sure you would,” Trixie told him, almost shaking with silent laughter, knowing he was worried, probably legitimately, that the plump, regal-looking woman at his side would simply follow him there.
Dan again cast an uncertain look Honey’s way.
“It’s okay. She knows. And she believes us.”
Dan’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yes,” Honey answered soberly. She glanced at the empty chairs at his table. “Is it… should we sit down?”
“Humph. You girls may join us. I don’t expect much, though. Boy! Show some respect! You should always rise when a lady joins your company! Oh, this appalling trend of young women to go out in public in dungarees… you should both be ashamed! I’m sure your table manners are even more wretched than Mr. Mangan’s. If you were my daughters, you wouldn’t be let out of the house! Why, you look like farmhands!”
Trixie refused to be cowed by the woman’s narrow-eyed glare. She lifted her chin and pulled out a chair before Dan could do so, then pointed to the remaining vacant seat for Honey’s benefit. “Considering I live on a farm,” she said cheerfully, “you’ll have to try harder to come up with an insult that’s actually going to stick. But now, Honey here? She’s a Wheeler, of the New York Wheelers. She should have no problem with satisfying your etiquette obsession.”
“Excuse me," Dan muttered, waving one hand over his shoulder toward the store's public restrooms.
“Go,” Trixie told him. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. At least with Honey next to you, you won’t look like a complete lunatic talking to yourself. I think the waitress was getting close to calling for security.”
“New York Wheelers? Never heard of them!” The woman snapped imperiously as surveyed Honey doubtfully.
Trixie did laugh at this. “Really? Hmm. Well, her mother was a Hart before she married one of the richest men on the East Coast.”
“And your own connections, young lady? Did you say you actually live on a farm?”
“Yep. Crabapple Farm. Been in the Belden family since… ever.”
“I see.”
Her disapproval was highly evident, and somehow this amused Trixie all the more. “And just so you know, Honey can’t see or hear you, so you’re stuck with me. But where did you leave off in your fascinating story about your drapes, again? Something about a man who had no opinion?”
Five minutes later, Trixie texted Dan to let him know Mrs. Julius Winston Price was gone.
That fast? I’m impressed Freckles.
Can u meet us downstairs by main entrance?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked outside into the early evening, and Trixie shivered from the sudden cold. The temperature had dropped with the setting sun, and she wondered if she should have worn a long-sleeve shirt under her jacket. She glanced at her watch. “The library should have closed almost half an hour ago,” she said. “I’m going to call Mart and find out where he is now.”
Dan turned his attention to Honey. “You really believe us? I mean, you understand this isn’t all some nutty plan to make our Halloween bash the ‘coolest party ever’?”
Honey slowly nodded. “Yeah. I mean, for your part anyway.” She turned and pointed to a hand-written sign posted in the window of a small jewelry store. Friendly spooks and spirits welcome here! “I’m pretty sure Mr. Donald isn’t actually taking the business of the dead. I can’t believe how quickly this escalated!”
“I know, right? What does it say about our town that everyone embraced the idea and it spread so quickly?”
“I don’t know. And honestly, as interesting as the subject is on a psychological or sociological level, it’s the ‘ghosts are real’ thing that’s really got my head spinning. I’m not sure how well I’ll sleep tonight.”
Dan slipped an arm around her shoulders in a gentle hug. “I know. And I’m sorry, Honey.”
“Would you – would you be willing to, I don’t know… check out my bedroom and make sure it’s… empty? And if it's not, get rid of anyone there?”
“Yeah. Of course. I can do that.”
“Mart's gonna meet us near town hall,” Trixie said as she ended her call with her brother. “Apparently, there’s something we should see. Honey, I told him that you’re with us and that you know what’s going on.”
They crossed Main Street and turned right, toward the town square. Lights were flicking out one-by-one in the local shops and businesses as they closed down for the night, and the traffic on the street had thinned to only a handful of vehicles.
“So, how’d you do it?” Dan asked Trixie curiously. “Get rid of the old bat so quickly? She wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to get a word in edgewise. After almost two hours, I still had no idea what her unfinished business was.”
Trixie cracked a crooked grin. “I told her that it was a well-known fact that ghosts who linger are considered of much lower social standing than those who are able to move on immediately after death, since the implication was that they’d been denied entrance to the Great Beyond of Heaven. Like there was something wrong with them. And then for good measure, I added that the longer someone remained here, the worse it was, and if you waited too long? Your own loved ones would disown you in the afterlife and refuse to even acknowledge your 'connection.'"
Dan’s loud bark of laughter was enough to attract the attention of several passers-by. He took a moment to control his mirth, shooting Trixie an appreciative glance. “I wish I’d thought of that before I’d had to order another pot of Earl Grey. Have I ever told you how much I don’t like tea?”
“I’m not a huge fan, either, really,” Honey said with a rueful grimace. “Despite Mother’s best efforts to civilize me.”
“Hey, do you guys know what’s going on at the pavilion? I don’t remember seeing anything advertised for tonight.” Trixie increased her pace slightly as she stepped around a young mother walking with her children. “Maybe this is what Mart wants us to see?”
There was a small but growing crowd gathered in front of the old wooden structure, and as they approached, they could see a flamboyantly dressed man standing on the top step, arms held wide. He had a bright purple turban on his head and a black velvet cloak slung over his shoulders.
“Friends!” he cried in a booming voice. “Gather ‘round! The spirits are here among us! They bring us messages from beyond!”
“Wow. Mart’s right,” Trixie murmured, chuckling softly. “Sleepyside is bordering on hysteria.”
Dan’s brows drew down as he gazed up at the man. “Who is he? Should I recognize him?”
“That’s Philip Macy. You know. He owns that shop over on Hawthorne. The one that sells crystals and other new age-y stuff. I think he also does palm readings.”
“I always thought he was a big fraud,” Honey admitted. “Preying on desperate and unhappy people. It never occurred to me that he could actually communicate with the dead.”
Trixie’s lips turned up in a decided smirk. “Uh, I’m pretty sure he is a fraud, Hon.”
“Why? How can you tell? Maybe he can see the ghosts just like you guys can.”
“Well,” Dan drawled, “considering there’s one bouncing up and down directly in front of him, laughing and making rude hand gestures, and another right behind him making bunny ears? I’d say that it’s a safe bet he can’t see them.”
“Not to mention the two over there in the middle of a shouting match,” Trixie added, pointing to an open space on the lawn. “Which? I think they’re arguing over whose wife makes the best cherry pie?”
They found Mart near the front of the audience. He rolled his eyes and nodded toward Philip Macy, as if to say, can you believe this guy? before beckoning them to follow him. “We need to talk,” he said simply.
“Excuse me, good folks! Might I have a moment of your time?”
Trixie stopped and sighed. “That depends. How long is a ‘moment’ to you? Because we’re a little busy right now.”
“Someone’s here?” Honey asked, unable to completely disguise the nervousness in her tone.
“Yeah,” Trixie replied resignedly. “I think he wants to sell us something.”
“Sell you something? No, no, my dear! Not at all. I’m just out here to introduce myself. The name is Walter Hancock and I’m running for mayor this year. This good town needs a change! It’s time we moved forward into the new century!”
Trixie’s brows quirked. Judging by his clothing, she could only suppose Walter was speaking of a century that was now long past. She briefly wondered why some spirits seemed quite well aware of the passage of time, and others seemed locked into a certain period. “Uh, huh. Well, good on you,” she said, not unkindly. “But, you should probably know, I don’t think dead people can legally assume political offices. Though, on reflection, I’m not sure anyone ever thought to write a law that explicitly spelled that out… Also, we’re not actually in an election year.”
Walter put his fists to his hips, his expression arrested. “Well, don’t that just beat all!” he exclaimed. “What a kick in the pants!” With that, he vanished.
Trixie huffed out a breath and looked over at Dan. “I think I really am getting better at this, but I’m still liking this office hours idea more and more.”
“Tell me about it.”
Honey pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and checked the time. “I know you want to talk, Mart,” she said, “but it’s really getting late. Could we maybe meet before school in the morning?”
“Yeah. That’s fine,” he agreed. “What I learned this afternoon isn’t going to be changing anything for us immediately. But in any case, I’m glad you’re on board with us, Honey. Pretending we’re faking all the needy spirit sightings is nearly as exhausting as dealing with the spirits themselves.”
“Dan? Where’d you park? My car is still in front of Crimpers.”
“I’m at the library. I dropped Mart off there before I went over to the historical society building to see if I could learn more about Sarah Sligo.” He cocked his head in the direction of Main Street. “We’ll walk you girls back to your car first.”
“I’ll do it!” a voice shouted at them from above as they passed town hall. “I’ll jump! I swear it!”
“Oh, go ahead!” Mart hollered back, to Dan and Trixie’s surprise. “Jump!”
“Bro?”
“He’s been at it all day. Yeah, it’s kinda disconcerting the first few times you see him leap and fall, but once he hits the ground, he just pops right back up there and starts making his threats all over again. I tried to help him. I did. But he won’t listen to me, and I finally gave up. Who knows? Maybe he’s been doing this for years.”
Even as Mart spoke, they watched the man let go of his hold on the side of the building and execute a rather elegant swan dive. He plummeted to the earth, only to reappear back on the cupola seconds later.
“Good grief,” Trixie muttered. “This sure puts a whole new spin on saying ‘hello’ to Hoppy. And I think this guy may be even more disturbing than Vernon and his severed head.”
“I’ll jump! I will!”
“At some point, we really should come back and deal with him,” Dan said, frowning as the man leapt once more.
“I know. Just… not tonight,” Trixie responded. “Tonight? I’m done.”
Trixie flopped back on her bed, arms outstretched, and stared up at her ceiling. She had an enormous amount of homework to finish, including several assignments that were already late. School policy was a deduction of ten points off each day past the original due date. If she didn’t finish at least some of the work, she was looking at zeroes in more than one class.
But she found it was next to impossible to concentrate. The words in her textbooks seem to swim upon the page as her attention wandered. So far, Mart had found nothing of note that might lead them to a solution to their predicament, though he'd gone to town to spend the afternoon at the library. His last text message update was less than promising.
Was it really possible that this was her life now? Was she really looking at a future that consisted of helping unhappy haunts find their way to their just rewards? She grimaced as she considered it. It didn’t seem like an occupation that would actually provide an income, and she highly doubted there was a reputable college anywhere in the country that offered a BA in Dealing with Difficult Spirits.
Another thought had occurred to her, though, as she’d made a failed attempt to focus on her algebra assignment. Did she really want to be released from this spell? As bad as it was to have such a steady stream of spooks clamoring for her attention, what would happen if her ability to see and communicate with them was lost? Would she then lapse into paranoia, knowing that ghosts were real and wondering if one was near her, watching her? The very idea was enough to give her chills.
“Yowww.”
She turned and watched as Clyde made the somewhat awkward leap from her old streamer trunk up onto her bed. “Hey, Clyde,” she said, lifting a hand to scratch his head. “How are you, kitty cat?”
Clyde turned in a circle and snuggled up at her side, purring loudly. For several minutes, Trixie absently pet the animal as she tried to sort through her morose thoughts. The chirping of her cell phone alerted her to a text message, and she rolled to her side to snatch the device from her nightstand.
Beautiful day. Let’s go riding.
Honey’s invitation was highly appealing. If she wasn’t accomplishing anything in her room anyway, perhaps a few hours of sunshine and fresh air would clear her mind. There was always the worry that they might encounter a wandering ghost somewhere in the preserve, and certainly Honey would think it strange if Trixie started a conversation with someone who “wasn’t there,” since there would be no reason for her to carry out the “act” with only her friend as an audience, but she decided the risk was worth it. She quickly tapped out a reply.
meet in stable in 15 min
“I’ll be back in awhile, Clyde. Hold down the fort.”
“Yow.”
She stopped only long enough to grab her Bob-White jacket and let her mother know where she was going before letting herself out through the kitchen door.
When she reached the Wheeler stable, Honey was already there and saddling Strawberry. “Regan asked if you wouldn’t mind taking out Lady today,” she said with quick smile. “Miss Trask already exercised Susie this morning and he’s out with Jupiter now.”
“Sure. No prob.”
As they set off, Honey assumed the lead. She chose a path that would take them to the northern end of the Wheeler property, away from the lake and winding Glen Road. They rode single file, making conversation difficult, but Trixie was content to simply enjoy the ride. It wasn’t until they’d come to a sunny clearing and Honey suggested they stop and rest that Trixie realized her friend wanted to talk.
They sat in the shade of a towering Hemlock. Trixie plucked a few blades of grass from the dirt and tore them to small pieces before letting them drop to the ground again, waiting for the other girl to speak.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Honey said quietly. “A lot. And Trix? You aren’t that good of an actress.”
“Uh, huh?” Trixie looked away, focusing her gaze on a small grey squirrel foraging about in the underbrush. She wasn’t sure where Honey was going with this, and she wasn’t sure at all how to respond.
“I’ve tried and tried to think of any reasons to explain… everything, but nothing makes sense outside of the one thing that seems impossible.” Honey paused to draw in a deep breath. “And that’s that as crazy as it sounds, you’re really seeing ghosts.”
Trixie hesitated before finally bobbing her head in a nod. “We are. We really are. Dan and Mart and me. And it doesn’t just sound crazy. It is crazy. You have no idea how crazy the past several days have been for us.”
“How… I mean, what happened? Start at the beginning, Trix, and tell me everything.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What is it?” Honey asked, studying her friend closely as they stepped out of the stable.
Trixie looked up from her phone. “I’m not entirely sure. Dan just texted me a 911 and said to get over to Crimper’s as soon as possible. Uh… is there any chance you could give me a ride into town?”
“Sure. Of course. Let me go get my keys and purse. I’ll be right back.” As Honey hurried off, Trixie tapped out a reply message.
whats going on?
Just get here. Fast.
She blew out a breath and shoved her phone into her pocket. Perfect. What now?
There were several parking spaces available in front of Sleepyside’s oldest department store. Time – and shopping malls – had marched on, while the Crimper family held fast to their quaint downtown store. As Trixie clambered from Honey’s car, she yanked out her phone again.
I’m here where RU
Tearoom
Trixie blinked. Tearoom? She pulled open one of the glass doors and rushed inside, heading straight for the escalator that would take her to the second floor, Honey on her heels.
The tearoom was even more deserted than the rest of the store. Trixie barely spared a glance for the two older women sitting at a table near the large windows that ran the length of one wall, chatting quietly as they shared a small meal.
Instead, her attention was fully on Dan and his... companion. “Oh, my...”
“Is - is he alone?” Honey whispered from behind her.
“Nope.” Trixie grinned as she approached his table. Dan’s eyes met hers and she could see the desperate plea in his gaze, along with the puzzled glance thrown in Honey’s direction.
“So, then I said to Mabel, did I tell you Mabel is my dearest friend? I said to Mabel, ‘Can you believe the nerve of that man? To suggest that I didn’t know my own mind in picking out fabric for my drapes? Why he was nothing but a ridiculous little popinjay! As if he had any opinion on my living room!’ Sit up, boy! Didn’t I already tell you not to slump like that? And hold your cup like a proper gentleman. Goodness! What is the world coming to, that a young man doesn’t even understand the simplest behaviors of polite society?”
Dan straightened and slowly lifted his teacup, pinky finger held at an angle. “We – I’m on my third pot,” he said to Trixie through clenched teeth. “I’d really like to go to the men’s room, now.”
“I’m sure you would,” Trixie told him, almost shaking with silent laughter, knowing he was worried, probably legitimately, that the plump, regal-looking woman at his side would simply follow him there.
Dan again cast an uncertain look Honey’s way.
“It’s okay. She knows. And she believes us.”
Dan’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yes,” Honey answered soberly. She glanced at the empty chairs at his table. “Is it… should we sit down?”
“Humph. You girls may join us. I don’t expect much, though. Boy! Show some respect! You should always rise when a lady joins your company! Oh, this appalling trend of young women to go out in public in dungarees… you should both be ashamed! I’m sure your table manners are even more wretched than Mr. Mangan’s. If you were my daughters, you wouldn’t be let out of the house! Why, you look like farmhands!”
Trixie refused to be cowed by the woman’s narrow-eyed glare. She lifted her chin and pulled out a chair before Dan could do so, then pointed to the remaining vacant seat for Honey’s benefit. “Considering I live on a farm,” she said cheerfully, “you’ll have to try harder to come up with an insult that’s actually going to stick. But now, Honey here? She’s a Wheeler, of the New York Wheelers. She should have no problem with satisfying your etiquette obsession.”
“Excuse me," Dan muttered, waving one hand over his shoulder toward the store's public restrooms.
“Go,” Trixie told him. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. At least with Honey next to you, you won’t look like a complete lunatic talking to yourself. I think the waitress was getting close to calling for security.”
“New York Wheelers? Never heard of them!” The woman snapped imperiously as surveyed Honey doubtfully.
Trixie did laugh at this. “Really? Hmm. Well, her mother was a Hart before she married one of the richest men on the East Coast.”
“And your own connections, young lady? Did you say you actually live on a farm?”
“Yep. Crabapple Farm. Been in the Belden family since… ever.”
“I see.”
Her disapproval was highly evident, and somehow this amused Trixie all the more. “And just so you know, Honey can’t see or hear you, so you’re stuck with me. But where did you leave off in your fascinating story about your drapes, again? Something about a man who had no opinion?”
Five minutes later, Trixie texted Dan to let him know Mrs. Julius Winston Price was gone.
That fast? I’m impressed Freckles.
Can u meet us downstairs by main entrance?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked outside into the early evening, and Trixie shivered from the sudden cold. The temperature had dropped with the setting sun, and she wondered if she should have worn a long-sleeve shirt under her jacket. She glanced at her watch. “The library should have closed almost half an hour ago,” she said. “I’m going to call Mart and find out where he is now.”
Dan turned his attention to Honey. “You really believe us? I mean, you understand this isn’t all some nutty plan to make our Halloween bash the ‘coolest party ever’?”
Honey slowly nodded. “Yeah. I mean, for your part anyway.” She turned and pointed to a hand-written sign posted in the window of a small jewelry store. Friendly spooks and spirits welcome here! “I’m pretty sure Mr. Donald isn’t actually taking the business of the dead. I can’t believe how quickly this escalated!”
“I know, right? What does it say about our town that everyone embraced the idea and it spread so quickly?”
“I don’t know. And honestly, as interesting as the subject is on a psychological or sociological level, it’s the ‘ghosts are real’ thing that’s really got my head spinning. I’m not sure how well I’ll sleep tonight.”
Dan slipped an arm around her shoulders in a gentle hug. “I know. And I’m sorry, Honey.”
“Would you – would you be willing to, I don’t know… check out my bedroom and make sure it’s… empty? And if it's not, get rid of anyone there?”
“Yeah. Of course. I can do that.”
“Mart's gonna meet us near town hall,” Trixie said as she ended her call with her brother. “Apparently, there’s something we should see. Honey, I told him that you’re with us and that you know what’s going on.”
They crossed Main Street and turned right, toward the town square. Lights were flicking out one-by-one in the local shops and businesses as they closed down for the night, and the traffic on the street had thinned to only a handful of vehicles.
“So, how’d you do it?” Dan asked Trixie curiously. “Get rid of the old bat so quickly? She wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to get a word in edgewise. After almost two hours, I still had no idea what her unfinished business was.”
Trixie cracked a crooked grin. “I told her that it was a well-known fact that ghosts who linger are considered of much lower social standing than those who are able to move on immediately after death, since the implication was that they’d been denied entrance to the Great Beyond of Heaven. Like there was something wrong with them. And then for good measure, I added that the longer someone remained here, the worse it was, and if you waited too long? Your own loved ones would disown you in the afterlife and refuse to even acknowledge your 'connection.'"
Dan’s loud bark of laughter was enough to attract the attention of several passers-by. He took a moment to control his mirth, shooting Trixie an appreciative glance. “I wish I’d thought of that before I’d had to order another pot of Earl Grey. Have I ever told you how much I don’t like tea?”
“I’m not a huge fan, either, really,” Honey said with a rueful grimace. “Despite Mother’s best efforts to civilize me.”
“Hey, do you guys know what’s going on at the pavilion? I don’t remember seeing anything advertised for tonight.” Trixie increased her pace slightly as she stepped around a young mother walking with her children. “Maybe this is what Mart wants us to see?”
There was a small but growing crowd gathered in front of the old wooden structure, and as they approached, they could see a flamboyantly dressed man standing on the top step, arms held wide. He had a bright purple turban on his head and a black velvet cloak slung over his shoulders.
“Friends!” he cried in a booming voice. “Gather ‘round! The spirits are here among us! They bring us messages from beyond!”
“Wow. Mart’s right,” Trixie murmured, chuckling softly. “Sleepyside is bordering on hysteria.”
Dan’s brows drew down as he gazed up at the man. “Who is he? Should I recognize him?”
“That’s Philip Macy. You know. He owns that shop over on Hawthorne. The one that sells crystals and other new age-y stuff. I think he also does palm readings.”
“I always thought he was a big fraud,” Honey admitted. “Preying on desperate and unhappy people. It never occurred to me that he could actually communicate with the dead.”
Trixie’s lips turned up in a decided smirk. “Uh, I’m pretty sure he is a fraud, Hon.”
“Why? How can you tell? Maybe he can see the ghosts just like you guys can.”
“Well,” Dan drawled, “considering there’s one bouncing up and down directly in front of him, laughing and making rude hand gestures, and another right behind him making bunny ears? I’d say that it’s a safe bet he can’t see them.”
“Not to mention the two over there in the middle of a shouting match,” Trixie added, pointing to an open space on the lawn. “Which? I think they’re arguing over whose wife makes the best cherry pie?”
They found Mart near the front of the audience. He rolled his eyes and nodded toward Philip Macy, as if to say, can you believe this guy? before beckoning them to follow him. “We need to talk,” he said simply.
“Excuse me, good folks! Might I have a moment of your time?”
Trixie stopped and sighed. “That depends. How long is a ‘moment’ to you? Because we’re a little busy right now.”
“Someone’s here?” Honey asked, unable to completely disguise the nervousness in her tone.
“Yeah,” Trixie replied resignedly. “I think he wants to sell us something.”
“Sell you something? No, no, my dear! Not at all. I’m just out here to introduce myself. The name is Walter Hancock and I’m running for mayor this year. This good town needs a change! It’s time we moved forward into the new century!”
Trixie’s brows quirked. Judging by his clothing, she could only suppose Walter was speaking of a century that was now long past. She briefly wondered why some spirits seemed quite well aware of the passage of time, and others seemed locked into a certain period. “Uh, huh. Well, good on you,” she said, not unkindly. “But, you should probably know, I don’t think dead people can legally assume political offices. Though, on reflection, I’m not sure anyone ever thought to write a law that explicitly spelled that out… Also, we’re not actually in an election year.”
Walter put his fists to his hips, his expression arrested. “Well, don’t that just beat all!” he exclaimed. “What a kick in the pants!” With that, he vanished.
Trixie huffed out a breath and looked over at Dan. “I think I really am getting better at this, but I’m still liking this office hours idea more and more.”
“Tell me about it.”
Honey pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and checked the time. “I know you want to talk, Mart,” she said, “but it’s really getting late. Could we maybe meet before school in the morning?”
“Yeah. That’s fine,” he agreed. “What I learned this afternoon isn’t going to be changing anything for us immediately. But in any case, I’m glad you’re on board with us, Honey. Pretending we’re faking all the needy spirit sightings is nearly as exhausting as dealing with the spirits themselves.”
“Dan? Where’d you park? My car is still in front of Crimpers.”
“I’m at the library. I dropped Mart off there before I went over to the historical society building to see if I could learn more about Sarah Sligo.” He cocked his head in the direction of Main Street. “We’ll walk you girls back to your car first.”
“I’ll do it!” a voice shouted at them from above as they passed town hall. “I’ll jump! I swear it!”
“Oh, go ahead!” Mart hollered back, to Dan and Trixie’s surprise. “Jump!”
“Bro?”
“He’s been at it all day. Yeah, it’s kinda disconcerting the first few times you see him leap and fall, but once he hits the ground, he just pops right back up there and starts making his threats all over again. I tried to help him. I did. But he won’t listen to me, and I finally gave up. Who knows? Maybe he’s been doing this for years.”
Even as Mart spoke, they watched the man let go of his hold on the side of the building and execute a rather elegant swan dive. He plummeted to the earth, only to reappear back on the cupola seconds later.
“Good grief,” Trixie muttered. “This sure puts a whole new spin on saying ‘hello’ to Hoppy. And I think this guy may be even more disturbing than Vernon and his severed head.”
“I’ll jump! I will!”
“At some point, we really should come back and deal with him,” Dan said, frowning as the man leapt once more.
“I know. Just… not tonight,” Trixie responded. “Tonight? I’m done.”
