Lost No More (Ghost No More Series Book 2) Read online

  This time I didn’t look back.

  *****

  We’d been doing this more and more often. I didn’t mind going to Grandma’s house. She lived out in the woods in a little trailer. Behind the trailer was a dark shed. That’s where the magic happened. We’d crack open the door of the shed to see bottle after bottle of Grandpa’s homemade Dynamite root beer. If Grandpa was in a good mood he’d give us a bottle. That stuff was dynamite too. There were quite a few explosions that went off on warm days when the carbonation tore the bottle apart.

  On this occasion, we stayed there for a week.

  On the way back home to our house on the hill I wondered what Dad would say. He usually acted like nothing happened when we returned after a few days away.

  Mom pulled into the yard. Dad’s truck was already sitting there. Just as soon as she turned the car off, David and I yanked the doors open, and the three of us scattered. None of us wanted to be in the vicinity to hear the fighting begin.

  I sprinted, with my brothers behind, for the far back yard where we kept the pigs. Mom had got them for my brother this year for 4-H. Dad had rigged an electric fence around the pen, and it sure would jolt you if you accidentally touched it. David tried to talk Willie into urinating on it, but even at four, Willie was too savvy for that trick.

  The pigs ambled up to us making soft grunting noises. David reached through the fence with a long stick and gave the pig’s bristly back a scratch. There was food in the trough, so that meant Dad had taken care of them while we were away. That kind of made me feel steadier inside, to think Dad was back to normal.

  We headed into the shade of the deep woods. David ran over to the grove of vine maples and started shimmying up one, getting halfway to the top before his weight pulled the skinny tree down. From there he could reach the ground and jump, and have the tree spring him back up before bouncing him down again. Willie wanted to try so I had to find him a tiny maple. I didn’t want the tree to fling his body into kingdom-come. Then we’d really catch it from Mom.

  We bounced for a while then straddled the bent trees like horses.

  “Want to check out the haunted house?” I asked.

  “Yeah, why not,” David answered. Willie knew he was the youngest and didn’t even try to have a say.

  The people we’d bought the property from had built a two story house deep in the forest. For some reason, they’d decided to abandon the house and moved into a trailer on the other side of the woods.

  There was no real path to the house, but we knew where it was. Through the years, we’d explored every inch of the forest. I led the way around the vine maples, heading in the same direction that moss grows on trees. We saw some fresh deer droppings and looked about for a minute with interest, but when no deer materialized we continued forward.

  The house sat back in the gloom of old growth trees. There were blackberries that clung to the outside of it, even creeping into the house through broken windows, like determined intruders.

  I opened the door, and we all walked into the musty living room feeling as though we’d stepped back in time. The wallpaper was faded near white in places, with pictures hanging crooked and forgotten. We kept our eyes open for any pit-falls, because the floor had sunk in spots through the years. Walking across the floor reminded me of being in the fun house at the fair.

  David started up the stairs, so Willie and I followed after him. There were rat droppings scattered on the steps, and I heard scurrying in the wall behind the banister. I shivered, then tried to cover by pulling the front of my shirt straight.

  Upstairs, the vents had all been removed from the floor and thrown in a pile next to a battered bookcase. We previously had used the vent holes like spy look-outs. Willie stuck his head through now to peer down to the floor below.

  “Hey! Look at me!” He giggled, muffled by the floor.

  “What is that, a spider?” I asked David. Willie pulled his head out right quick, his hair sticking up and covered in dust bunnies. He looked from side to side for the spider, trying to appear casual.

  “Huh?” David asked.

  I grinned. “Never mind.”

  “Hey I know! Let’s play hide and seek,” David’s eyes darted to different corners, already searching for a place to hide.

  I felt a thrill at the thought. Rats made it even scarier.

  “I don’t want to,” Willie said. We didn’t want him to tattle, so we agreed.

  The house had settled a bit more since the last time we’d been in it, and the back wall looked different to me. I walked over to check it out, careful to step around a moldy photo album and some broken dishes.

  The wall had a dark crack that ran vertically up it, just wide enough for me to fit my finger in.

  “Hey Guys!” I yelled. “Come here quick!”

  Both of my brothers came running. On his way, Willie got tangled up in something rope-like on the floor. He let out a howl as he tripped, but leaped back up. A pair of pantyhose was wrapped around his shoe.

  David immediately saw what I was so excited about. “Wow,” he drawled out.

  Cautiously, I reached out and slid my fingers into the space, then pulled on the crack.

  The wall was on hinges. It opened with a creak to reveal a gloomy room. I couldn’t see the back, and the entrance was full of spider webs.

  “Oh my gosh! It’s a freaking secret room!” I was knocked almost breathless by the treasure.

  “Holy Cow!” David’s eyes were huge, and he started to laugh. “Right out of Scooby Doo!”

  “What do you think they made it for?” I wondered out loud.

  A spider lazily dropped down from the top of the wall frame where it had been disturbed.

  All three of us stared at it. It waggled its eight legs at us, then turned its bulbous body to crawl back up its silk.

  “I think that thing has hair.” I whispered.

  “I think he has a first name.” David said.

  Willie whispered “Charlotte.” We both snapped our eyes down at him.

  “Charlotte? I don’t think so.” I shook my head. “Maybe Bubba.”

  “Whatever.” David gave me a little push. “You going in there, or what?”

  From the back corner of the secret room came a squeak, then feet furiously moving.

  “Mom always says the first shall be last,” I retorted, still not taking my eyes off the spider.

  “Finders keepers… after you,” David countered.

  I swallowed. It was a secret room after all. “It’d be cool to stick up one of those pictures with the cut out eyeholes, and hide back here to spy,” I said, and warily stuck my head into the room.

  There was another squeak and a rattle of rodents fighting in one of the dark corners. It gave me the heebie-jeebies, and I shuddered. That creeped-out David, which set off Willie. Shivering, we all lurched away from the secret room, violently brushing our arms and hair. I gave the wall a kick shut on my way out.

  That finished the adventure for me, and I galloped down the stairs to the porch with my brothers right behind. David collapsed on a dusty wood box. Willie and I sat on the porch swing. We stayed until it was nearly dark outside, trying to stretch our time away. None of us wanted to admit we were avoiding going back home.

  The moon rose and shone through the alders, making shadows on the front of the house.

  “Well, I guess we should go. There’s school tomorrow,” I said.

  “Yep, and dinner too.” David nodded. We got up, and I grabbed a walking stick from the porch railing.

  “Maybe Mom made fried chicken?” Willie picked up a rock and threw it at a tree.

  “Remember that story of Dad?” David asked me.

  I nodded. “You mean when he was six.”

  Willie was walking in front of us and turned around. “Wait? What is it?”

  I chopped at the tall grass in front of me with my stick. “Dad was out in the rain playing in some holly field. He got cold and wet, and so he prayed, “Lord, when I get h
ome I just want a new pair of shoes and some fried chicken.”

  David cut in. “So when he got home, Grandma had chicken in the frying pan, and moccasins sitting on the table.”

  “I don’t like moccasins.” Willie frowned. “But I’ll take the chicken!”

  I laughed. “Don’t think you need to worry about that.”

  *****

  Mom had put the white tablecloth on the table and was just pulling a casserole out of the oven when we came inside. The tablecloth signified she wanted a “gentleman dinner,” which meant we’d better use our manners, or catch it.

  Dad nodded to me. “Come help me get haul in some wood.”

  I followed him outside to the wood pile.

  “So,” Dad stacked a few logs in my arms. “Did you have fun at your grandma’s?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good.” He smiled at me. “What’d you do? What’d you guys talk about?”

  I licked my lips and juggled the logs. He wasn’t asking me questions to see if I enjoyed my time there. He knew it wasn’t a vacation.

  “Root beer,” I answered, and brought the load of wood in.

  Chapter 8

  “You know Jim, you ain’t as smart as you think you are.”

  We were relaxing in the treehouse when Darrell, the kid from up the road, said this. I tipped back my can of soda and took three big gulps.

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  Darrell dragged his sleeve across his nose. “I’m just saying I know how to build hidey-holes too.”

  I laughed. I knew exactly the type of hidey-holes and camouflage Darrell made. It was the summer of my 11th year, and nearly every day we’d met out in the woods and pretended we were soldiers. We were supposed to hide from each other, but I always found him right away, a fern sticking out of his hair and a maple twig stuck in his pocket.

  He got up to stretch his legs.

  “Watch out for the trap door.” I warned.

  “I’m watching, I’m watching.” He leaned across David to grab a soda out of the paper grocery sack. “Where’s that cigarette?”

  We’d filched one earlier from Dad’s open pack on the buffet. We’d only done it a time or two before, and always did it as a group so none of us could tell. I patted my pocket to answer. Darrell reached over for it.

  Whoosh!

  He half disappeared through the hole in the floor.

  “Help! Help!” he squealed. His one good leg was bent at the knee clear up to his ear, while the other leg kicked up a storm below. He tried to push up with his palms, but was wedged in too tight to budge.

  I looked over at David. In the next second we were howling with laughter.

  “You guys! You buttheads! Help!” His face turned red from the effort of trying to get free.

  Tears ran down our faces.

  “You look like a squawking chicken!” David yelled.

  I wiped my eyes with the bottom of my t-shirt, then leaned over and gave him my hand. With my foot braced against the tree I hauled him back up. He was shaking as he stood next to me and gave me a shove on the shoulder.

  “Next time watch where you’re stepping.” I grinned.

  He muttered and went back to his soda can.

  “Maybe I should go home,” he said.

  “Maybe. I think I hear your mom calling!” David giggled.

  “Naw, you’re ok, just relax for a minute.” I took my own advice and settled back against the tree trunk.

  There was rustling below the trap door. We quieted down to listen. The ladder shook, and Dad’s head appeared. “What’s all that tee-heeing I hear up here?” His brown eyes sparkled clear. I breathed a sigh of relief and my stomach unclenched. Sober.

  Darrell still looked cross, but David and I answered, “Nothing!”

  Dad found a smashed cigarette butt under some old cans and held it up between his thumb and forefinger. “Well, ain’t this interesting?”

  I was suddenly absorbed in picking out a splinter stuck in my palm.

  Dad flicked it away. “Well, come on down. I got an idea.”

  David and I rushed down the ladder, knocking in to one another. Darrell came down a little more careful. He limped for a few moments until we left him behind, then jogged to catch up.

  We followed Dad to the side of the property, out where an old car had been abandoned years ago. The car had been there so long it had saplings that grew through the floorboards and stretched out the passenger window. I smacked the rusty hood as I passed, causing David and Darrell to imitate me. We climbed up the hill where Dad waited for us at the top. Laid out on the ground was a thick rope, a pulley, and a little metal cable car seat.

  I prodded the rope with my foot. David squatted down to pick up the pulley and gave the metal wheel a spin. He rolled it up and down his leg like a match box car.

  “So here’s what’s up, boys.” Dad arched his eyebrow and swung his arm to point. “I’m going to tie this rope to this tree here, string it all the way down the hill and attach it to that tree down there.” He rubbed his hands together. “I figure we can get a good cable car going.”

  I had a little tingle growing inside. The bobsled popped to mind.

  Dad looped the rope in a figure eight around the trunk and its branch. When he had it good and tight he started down the hill unwinding the rope as he went.

  We barreled after him, crashing into bushes on our way. One had stickers that tore a good size hole in my t-shirt. I stuck my finger through the hole. Cool!

  When he got to the bottom Dad went straight for the other tree. He examined it for a moment, his head tipped back. “Yup, this’ll work.” With a big jump, he caught a branch and pulled himself up, his work boots knocking off bits of bark. Then he leaned down, his hand wagging impatiently.

  “Pass me that rope!”

  I stretched on my toes to reach it to him. Once he had hold of it he pulled some slack and coiled it over his arm a few times, then started to climb higher.

  “I want to be just high enough so that your butts don’t hit the ground when the rope stretches.”

  From where we stood he sure looked plenty high. He straddled the crook of a thick branch and knotted the rope around the trunk.

  “There we go.” Grunting, he gave the rope an extra hard jerk in the final knot. “That’ll hold nice.”

  He climbed down with another shower of bark and dusted himself off. We all followed him back up the hill like a line of baby ducks after the mom.

  At the top, he tugged on the rope to feel how taut it was, and the corners of his mouth turned up with satisfaction. He grabbed the pulley from David and gave it a spin that made it sing, “whrrrrr.”

  Gently, he set the pulley on the rope, as though it were a crown being placed on the head of a king. “There we go. There it is,” he whispered.

  He looped the metal cable through the pulley, and yanked it down. With some quick movements, he attached it to the seat.

  “Wooo wee! We did it boys!” He vibrated with excitement, and his glance ping-ponged between us. ”So, who’s going to be the first for a ride?”

  I walked over and looked down the steep hill to the other end and then back to the seat positioned kind of precarious on the rope.

  I took a step back and kept my mouth shut tight.

  “What are you worried about?” Dad gave a crooked grin. “Haven’t I always told you that you don’t need to worry as long as you look up?”

  I gave the barest of nods.

  David jumped up. “I will, Dad!”

  “Okay, great! Now, you just sit your fanny right on there.” Dad held the seat by the harness while my brother clambered on. David’s legs jogged up and down as the seat bobbled under his weight. The pulley gave a sharp creak. David’s eyes shot up at it, and he swallowed.

  “Naw, it’s all good.” Dad said. “Just the rope stretching.” David’s knuckles whitened from his grip on the harness. “You ready? One, two, three!” On three, Dad gave the seat a mighty shove.

  We
watched, impressed, as the cable car shot off. It quickly increased speed. The squealing of the pulley carried right up the hill, sounding like a pig late for dinner. I wondered if it would spark and catch the rope on fire. David stoically faced the tree, his legs braced in front of him.

  “How’s he going to stop?” Darrell whispered to me. I couldn’t answer. Just at that moment the seat gave a little half-turn, and David spun to face us. His eyes were huge and his mouth even bigger.

  We all started yelling, “Spin back David!” “Quick!”

  There was no time to change directions. With a loud smack, David hit the tree. He tumbled off the cable car and landed in a heap in a pile of leaves.

  I watched him in a cold sweat. “Move. Get up! Be okay.”

  Dad called down, “You okay, David? Shake it off boy!” David turned over on his back and examined a scrape on one of his arms. Relief flooded through me, making me feel warm and weak.

  “That ain’t nothing, Son,” Dad called. “Rub some dirt on it.”

  David stood wobbly to his feet with his hands on his lower back. He leaned against the trunk for support and stretched from side to side. “I’m fine!” he shouted. Slowly, he staggered up the hill past us and went to the house.

  Dad watched him a second before grabbing on to the rope. “So,” he said, turning to the two of us, “whose next?”

  “Uh, sorry Sir.” Darrell rotated towards his house. “It’s chore time.” While Darrell was talking I edged away.

  “Homework, Dad!” I called over my shoulder, before running inside.

  *****

  In the kitchen, Mom was comforting David. “I wish your dad would get a job instead of making those stupid toys.” she muttered as she filled a dish towel with ice. “Everything he touches just turns to crap.” She kissed him on the top of his head. “Hold that there a minute.” Still clucking her tongue she hurried to hunt in the living room for her shoes. She only had a few minutes before she had to leave for the deli for her shift.

  I looked over at David.

  “You okay?”

  He smiled, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He gave me a thumbs-up. “Just knocked the air out of me. That was a cool ride until, you know, the end.” We started snickering.