Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House (7 page)

Chloe hesitated. She liked Rebecca, but the girl was
older than her, and Chloe didn't feel like babysitting the two restless kid sisters she had with her.

“I guess I'll go home,” Chloe told her.

Rebecca waved. “Nice meeting you, Chloe.” Gracie
offered her own enthusiastic, bouncing goodbye while Olivia ignored them all, absorbed in the dandelions.

Chloe made it to the edge of the property and
headed into the long grass again. She had every inten
tion of going back to the house but the laughter she
heard ringing from the old grey barn made her pause. Curiosity getting the better of her, she decided to check it out after all.

MacKenzie Barn was a large, hulking building, the front
doors two flat panels hooked together by a piece of
wood that swiveled on a nail. One of them hung open.
Chloe peeked inside. It was gloomy but not dark, the air full of dust and the smell of old dirt and autumn.
Chloe stepped inside and almost leapt out of her skin as Marsh yelled, “Cannonball!”

He flew through the air, landing with a hiss in a giant
pile of yellow grain, half-burying himself in the stuff
before slithering down the side of the pile, shaking the bits from his hair. Chloe sneezed as the dust he raised reached her.

“You got to try this!” He grinned at her, pulling her toward a row of boards nailed to the far wall. They were as worn as the outside of the place, thick with
old cobwebs that glowed white in the dim sunlight that filtered through the filthy windows. Chloe hesitated but found herself being boosted up onto the first board and felt she had no alternative.

She made it up three steps of the makeshift ladder
before glancing down. Her world wobbled as she swayed there, terrified but unable to retreat. Marsh was right behind her. Chloe was forced to continue on up into the
dark of the attic. She reached the last board and felt hands reach for her, pulling her up through the hole and onto the rattling, splintered floor of the loft. She
shivered despite the heat in the huge, domed area, afraid to look over the edge of the hole to the ground below. She backed up a few steps and hugged herself, watching Marsh scramble up by himself to stand beside her.

His eyes shone in the low light, teeth flashing. “It's
way fun,” he said with great enthusiasm. “A little scary the first time, but you'll get the hang of it. Come on, it's your turn!”

Chloe held back, however, watching as first Liam, then the twins, made fantastic leaps into the air, plummeting out of sight. She knew they were all right from the encouraging comments but wasn't ready to try it herself.

“Geronimo!” Marsh spun past her, a huge grin on his face, dropping fast into the soft pile, sending up a cloud of dust. He coughed on it but he was laughing, so she knew he was okay.

She could hear the soft cooing of pigeons far above
and looked way up to the peak of the hip roof, curving into the darkness. The loft was very quiet with all four brothers below.

“Chloe!” Marsh called. “Come on!”

She eased her way to the edge of the hole and looked
down. The lower part of the barn seemed bright in
comparison, the top of the grain pile very far away. She drew a shaking breath as the brothers all shouted their encouragement.

“You can do it!” “Just jump!” “Don't think about it!”
“It's fun, honest!”

Chloe glanced over at the top of the board ladder and considered climbing down. But to get to it she would have to sit on the edge of the hole and stretch her legs to reach the ladder on the other side. She was afraid she would fall. Besides, she didn't want her new friends to think she was chicken.

Telling herself it couldn't be so bad if the boys managed it, Chloe drew a shaking breath and slid her sneakers to the edge of the hole. She planned to
close her eyes and drop, not willing to attempt any of the crazy jumps the MacKenzies had, but as she decided to let herself go, she heard someone gasp.

Chloe spun and saw the ghost boy standing behind her. His face was full of fear, hands reaching for her. She started and moved away from him, then felt her
feet slip on the edge of the hole. She twisted and fell in slow motion, eyes locked on the boy as she plummeted to the ground.

Chloe panted for the breath that had left her after she hit the grain pile. She was surrounded by red heads and freckles as the boys hovered, looking anxious.

“Chloe,” Liam said, “are you okay?”

She tried to find the ghost, but he had vanished. Her lungs began to work and she choked and coughed on the dust. Liam and Marsh helped her sit up, Marsh pounding her on the back.

“I'm okay,” she wheezed at last. “I slipped.”

“You scared us,” Liam said, laughing.

“I scared myself,” she admitted.

They all heard the rumble of tires on dirt as Aunt
Larry's car drove by, headed for the house. The twins were up and running, not even saying goodbye as they dashed out the door and disappeared.

Liam scowled after them, then helped Chloe to her
feet. She patted at her clothes, full of chaff, feeling the kernels grind around in her sneakers and socks.

“We need to get out of here before we get in trouble,” Marsh said.

Chloe followed the brothers to the door and paused
behind them, waiting until they slid outside to do so
as well. Liam closed the door, spun the wooden block
sideways to barricade the entry, then waved and left
for home.

Marsh was sitting on the grass, dumping grain from his shoes. Chloe followed suit. She discovered while she slid off her second sock that her silver bracelet was gone.

“It can't be!” She got to her feet and looked at the barn. “It has to be in the grain!”

Marsh looked instantly distressed. “What did you lose?”

“My bracelet.” She found herself crying. The scare and the ghost sighting paired with the loss of her last connection with her mom and dad made everything well up again.

“We'll find it,” Marsh said, patting her shoulder to make her feel better.

They snuck back inside and spent the next hour sifting through the grain. At last, Chloe gave up, unable to see much through her tears and sneezes.

Dejected, she dragged herself home, leaving Marsh
behind without even a goodbye.

Aunt Larry took one look and sent her right to the
shower. Chloe was grateful that her aunt didn't ask too many questions. She went to bed after making herself eat something. Her appetite was gone with the bracelet and not even the memory of the boy in the loft could shake her loose from her grief.

She spotted her parents' picture and dragged it to her.

“Why did you have to die?” she asked them. “Why did you have to leave me? It's all your fault!” Chloe threw the picture away but went scrambling after it, retrieving it almost before it settled on the light pink rug beneath her bed. She smoothed it with her fingers before kissing both of her parents' faces.

She spent the next few hours feeling sorry for herself. Rather than suffer alone, she picked up the copy of Anne of Green Gables again. In between reading came bouts
of more crying. The further she read, the more con
nected she felt to Anne. Life seemed very unfair to the fictional redhead, much as it did to Chloe. By the time it got dark, she had cried so much her eyes were sore and her throat ached like she had a cold, and she had a slight headache from focusing on reading through all those tears. She was tired, but couldn't sleep. A warm breeze was blowing in from her oceanside window. Chloe sat
in front of it and breathed in the salt air. As she did,
she felt a powerful compulsion to go outside. She took her parents' picture and her flashlight and crept down the stairs and out the back door without meeting Aunt Larry. She ran through the garden in her bare feet and all the way to the cliff where she sat on the edge, legs dangling over.

Chloe held up the picture and pointed it at the water. “See?” she said to her parents. “That's the Northumberland Strait. And the beach. See the cliffs, Dad?” It was so dark, she could only see the tops of the waves as they rolled, white and frothy, against the rocks beneath her. “This is where I live now. This is where I live.” She was so sure she had no more tears, and yet there were more, and more after those. She was sobbing again, hurting so much but not able to find a way to feel better.

Aunt Larry sat down next to Chloe and tried to put
her arm around her. Chloe jerked away, not wanting to be comforted.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped.

“I want to help you,” Aunt Larry said. “Please, Chloe, let me help.”

“You can't help!” Chloe got to her feet. “They're dead! How can you help dead?”

Aunt Larry didn't move. She looked very sad but Chloe didn't care. “I can't,” she said. “But you're still here, honey.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, putting all her hurt and embarrassment and anger into her words to her aunt, all the while knowing she didn't deserve it. “I am. I just want my mom and dad and to go home, but I'm stuck here with you!”

Aunt Larry flinched. Chloe immediately felt horrible but didn't know how to fix it. She didn't think saying she was sorry was enough. Sophie would have been furious with her.

Lost and feeling very much alone, Chloe ran back to the house and to her room. She crawled into bed, trying not to hear the sounds of Aunt Larry closing up the house for the night. It wasn't until she heard her aunt's bedroom
door close through the floor beneath her that Chloe
thought of the ghost boy. Her heart tried to race but she was so tired. She peeked out once. He was nowhere in sight. Chloe fell into a restless sleep before she could check again.

Chloe hesitated at the kitchen door the next morning.
Aunt Larry was making breakfast. Chloe had been able to smell the salty bacon all the way from her attic room.

Aunt Larry greeted her with a smile and a full plate of food. Chloe said a quiet thank you and sat down to eat, grateful her aunt wasn't angry, but still feeling bad about the way she had treated her. She was so intent
on her meal she was startled by a low rumble in the
distance.

“Storm coming,” Aunt Larry said. “Weather network says lots of rain. Check your windows after breakfast, okay, Chloe?”

When they were finished eating, Chloe helped Aunt
Larry secure the house. It consisted of her following
her aunt around from room to room while Aunt Larry closed the windows, but Chloe felt like she was helping somehow so it made her feel better.

“I'm working this morning,” Aunt Larry told her. “I'll be in my office if you need me.”

Chloe's heart fell. Aunt Larry was mad at her after all.
Her aunt must have sensed what Chloe was thinking
because she smiled.

“You can help me with my files if you want,” she said.

Chloe hugged her hard as an apology. She spent the next hour filing away the slim yellow folders that Aunt Larry handed her out of a big cardboard box.

“I've been meaning to do this for a while,” her aunt said. “These are my case files from my last trip to Mozambique.” She let Chloe open one. She admired the beautiful tribal boy with his tattoos and unusual dress in the picture attached to the medical sheet. “I keep meaning to sort these and write a paper, but…” Aunt Larry trailed off with a laugh. “Maybe I'll have time, now.”

Filing done, there wasn't much for Chloe to do. She
left Aunt Larry to her work and drifted into the main part of the house, closing the office door behind her.

She jumped when she heard the first drops of rain hit the windows. They were huge, fat drops that made heavy splat sounds, a few at first, then more and more as the sky got very dark and opened up. Chloe was breathless. The whole house vibrated with the rain, it seemed, the sound of it drowning out everything. Chloe stood frozen until banging on the kitchen door shook her out of it. She ran to open it and found Marsh standing there, soaked through, rain dripping from his ears and the tip of his nose, his red curls plastered to his face. He held up a bunch of wildflowers in one hand, several of which were bent to the side, stems broken.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Chloe took pity on him. “It's okay,” she answered. “Come
on in.”

Two towels later and he was pretty much dry. Chloe was putting the poor flowers in a glass of water when Aunt Larry poked her head out long enough to smile at them before going back to work.

“Some rain, huh?” Marsh was back to his old grinning self.

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“So what do you want to do?” He perched himself on
one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, bare feet swinging. “TV will be kind of messed up because of the thunder and lightning.” In answer, more thunder
rumbled overhead. This time it was dark enough from
the sullen cloud cover that Chloe caught the flash of
lightning that preceded it. “Same for dial-up Internet. Got any games?”

Chloe wasn't sure. Aunt Larry would know, but she
didn't want to disturb her again.

“Ever play rummy?” Marsh fished a beat-up old deck of cards from his pocket. Chloe hadn't and, intrigued, let him teach her. It became apparent to her that she was a sore loser. She tried not to complain too much but when she lost she thought the game was dumb. However, the more she huffed, the more she won. When she figured out Marsh was letting her win, she laughed.

She had a good hand and was about to put herself out when she heard a noise like a sigh from behind her. Chloe jumped so much she knocked over her glass of water and had to run for a tea towel to clean up the mess. She looked over her shoulder a few times, nervous again. It was dark enough from the storm clouds that the ghost boy could make an appearance.

“What's up?” Marsh asked.

Chloe almost didn't tell him. But she needed to share it with someone and he was her only option.

“You can't think I'm crazy,” she whispered to him. Marsh perked up.

“Promise,” he whispered back.

Chloe shivered. “I've been hearing, you know,… noises.”

“Yeah?” Marsh was all ears.

“And feeling like, I don't know, someone is… watching me.”

His eyes were huge. “Yeah?”

“And the other night… I was going to sleep… ” There was no way she was telling him she talked to her parents every night so she glossed over that part. “I heard this sigh, you know? And felt someone sit down on the bed.”

“Beside you?” Marsh's voice squeaked.

Chloe nodded. “Right beside me. So I looked.”

“And?” He swallowed hard.

“There was… ” She hesitated. She had him. It would be easy to pretend she was pulling a joke on him. She was sure his brothers did it to him all the time. But he believed her so far and she needed someone to. So, she took the plunge.

“There was a boy sitting on my bed.”

Marsh let out his breath in a whoosh of air. “No way! What did he look like?”

Chloe was so grateful he believed her without hesi
tation that she told him everything. “He was kind of
glowing, you know? I think he was our age.” She frowned to herself, trying to remember details. She had gotten a better look at him in the loft than the night before in her room. But she had been so afraid she didn't remember much.

“What was he wearing?” Marsh asked.

“Um… dark pants, white shirt. It had a collar, I think. And suspenders. He had… dark hair. I don't know,” she admitted. “I was so scared I don't remember a whole lot else. Except, he looked really sad.” He had, she remembered that clear as day. Like he had been crying, too.

“Cool,” Marsh said. “So cool. You know what?”

“What?” Chloe asked.

“I've seen him, too,” Marsh said.

Chloe was shocked. “Really? When?”

“Two summers ago,” he told her, leaning closer, glancing at the door to Aunt Larry's office. “Larry was in Africa or something and we were looking after the house, just checking on it, you know? I was here with my Dad,” he added, “so I wasn't snooping. Anyway, I went around the back to check the door and I felt like someone was watching me.” He shivered like Chloe had but he was grinning. “It was freaky! I looked up at the little window, you know, the one above the deck? There was this boy up there looking down at me.”

Chloe realized she was holding her breath. “And?”

Marsh leaned back and shrugged. “I freaked. Went running for Dad. I was a kid, you know, only eight.
Thought the bogeyman was coming to get me.” He was laughing and Chloe joined in, even though it didn't feel
funny to her. It was so much easier to be brave with
Marsh there with her.

“Anyway, Dad came with me and had a look, but the boy was gone. Never saw him again. Of course, it doesn't keep Liam and the twins from torturing me.” Marsh made his funny face. “Dad told them all at dinner and they started calling me the ghost hunter.” He was blushing, ducking his head as if he expected her to laugh at him.

“Well, he's real,” Chloe said. “So I believe you.”

Marsh's smile lit up the room.

“I have a great idea,” he said. Chloe was sure she
wouldn't agree, but let him talk. “I say we go up to that room where the window is and see if we can find him.”

Chloe did not want to go up there. In fact, everything in her wished she had kept her mouth shut. But Marsh was smiling at her, so eager and excited that she found herself saying words she couldn't believe were coming from her mouth.

“I'll get the flashlight.”