22 - Ghost Beach (4 page)

“Louisa!” Sam said sharply. “I really don’t think we should talk about this.”

“Why not?” Louisa shot back. “They have a right to know.”

“But they don’t even believe in ghosts,” Sam insisted.

“Well, maybe you can change my mind,” Terri replied. “Are you guys sure there’s a ghost? Have you really seen it?”

“We’ve seen the skeletons,” Louisa said solemnly.

Nat peeked his head out from behind Louisa’s leg. “The ghost comes out during
the full moon,” he announced.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Louisa corrected. “He’s been in the cave up
there forever. Some people say for three hundred years.”

“But if you haven’t seen him,” I said, “how do you
know
he’s in the
cave?”

“You can see a light flickering,” Sam replied.

“A light?” I hooted. “Give me a break! That could be anything. It could be a
guy in there with a flashlight.”

Louisa shook her head. “It’s not that kind of light,” she insisted. “It’s
different from that.”

“Well, a flickering light and a dog skeleton aren’t enough to convince me,” I
said. “I think you’re just trying to scare us again. This time, I’m not falling
for it.”

Sam scowled. “No problem,” he muttered. “You don’t have to believe it.
Really.”

“Well, I don’t,” I insisted.

Sam shrugged. “Have fun,” he said softly. He led his brother and sister back
toward the woods.

As soon as they were out of sight, Terri punched me in the side. “Jerry, why did you do that? I was just starting to weasel
some good stuff out of them.”

I shook my head. “Can’t you see they’re trying to scare us? There’s no ghost.
It’s another dumb joke.”

Terri stared hard at me. “I’m not so sure,” she murmured.

I gazed up at the enormous black hole of the cave. Despite the morning heat,
a chill ran down my back.

Was there an ancient ghost in there?

Did I really want to find out?

Agatha made a really great old-fashioned chicken pot pie for dinner. I ate all
of mine except for the peas and carrots. I’m not into vegetables.

Terri and I were helping Agatha with the dishes after dinner when she said,
“Jerry, I seem to be missing one of the beach towels. Didn’t you take two with
you this morning?”

“I guess we did,” I replied.

“Did we leave one at the beach?” Terri asked.

I tried to remember. “I don’t think so. I can go take a look.”

“Don’t bother,” Agatha said. “It’s getting dark out. You can look tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind,” I told her. I threw down my dish towel and bolted out the
back door before she could say anything else.

I was glad for an excuse to escape. That tiny kitchen was suffocating me.
There was hardly any room to turn around in there.

I walked along the path to the water’s edge, happy to be alone for a change.
Terri is okay, especially for a kid sister. We get along amazingly well. But
sometimes I like to be by myself.

I found the big rock where we’d left our towels that morning. No sign of the
missing towel. Maybe Sam took it, I thought. Maybe he planned to drape it over
his head and jump out at us.

I gazed up at the big cave, dark against the blue-black sky.

“Huh?”

I blinked—and took a step closer.

Was that a light flickering in the cave?

I took another step. It had to be the reflection of the moon, just rising
over the pine trees.

No. Not the moon, I realized.

I took another few steps. I couldn’t take my eyes off the flickering light,
so pale, so ghostly pale, in the black cave opening.

Sam! I told myself. Yes, it’s Sam. He’s up there right now, lighting matches.
Hoping I’ll fall for his trick.

Should I climb up there?

My sneakers sank into the sand as I took a few more steps toward the cave.

The light glimmered in the cave opening. It hovered so near the entrance.
Floating. Flickering. Dancing slowly.

Should I go up there? I asked myself.

Should I?

Yes. I had to climb up there.

The light glimmered brighter, as if calling to me.

I took a deep breath, then jumped across a tide pool and over some mossy
rocks. Then I started up.

The cave stood high above me, embedded in the boulders. I leaped and
scrambled over slippery, small rocks until I reached the next big boulder.

A halo of yellow moonlight shone down on the rocks, making it easy to see.
What was it Nat said about the moon? Something about the ghost coming out when
it was full?

I scaled the next rock, and kept climbing.

I could see the ghostly light floating above me in the cave entrance.

Up, up I climbed over the scraggly rocks, slippery from the evening dew.

“Oh!” I cried out as I felt my legs give way. A mini-landslide had started under my feet. Small rocks and sand tumbled down
the hill behind me.

Desperately, I grabbed at a fat root growing out between the rocks. I held on
long enough to get my footing.

Whew! I took a moment to catch my breath.

Then I pulled myself up onto a sturdy boulder and gazed up to the cave. Now
it was right above my head. Only another ten feet or so to go.

I stood up—and gasped.

Whoa! What was that noise behind me?

I stood frozen. Waiting. Listening.

Was someone else there?

Was the ghost there?

I didn’t have long to wonder. A cold, clammy hand grabbed my neck.

I uttered a choking sound and struggled to turn around.

The cold fingers relaxed their grip. “Ssssh,” Terri whispered. “It’s me.”

I let out an angry growl. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Never mind that,” she shot back. “What do you think
you’re
doing?”

“I—I’m looking for that beach towel,” I stammered.

Terri laughed. “You’re looking for a ghost, Jerry. Admit it.”

We both raised our eyes to the cave. “Do you see the light?” I whispered.

“Huh? What light?” Terri demanded.

“The light flickering in the cave,” I replied impatiently. “What’s wrong with
you? Do you need glasses?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t see any light,” Terri insisted. “It’s completely dark.”

I stared up at the cave opening. Stared up into total darkness.

She was right. The flickering light in the cave had vanished.

As I lay in bed later that night, I tried to use what Mr. Hendrickson, my
science teacher, calls my “critical thinking skills.” That’s when you have to
put together whatever facts you have and those you don’t, and then draw a
logical conclusion.

So I asked myself: What do I know?

I know I saw a light. Then the light went out.

So what was the explanation? An optical illusion? My imagination? Sam?

Outside the window, a dog began to bark.

That’s weird, I thought. I hadn’t seen any dogs around here before.

I stuffed my pillow over my ears.

The barking grew louder, more emotional. It sounded as if it were right
outside my window.

I sat up, listening.

And remembered what Nat had told us.
Dogs recognize ghosts.

Was that why the dog was barking so excitedly?

Had the dog spotted the ghost?

With a shiver, I climbed out of bed and crept to the window.

I peered down to the ground.

No dog.

I listened.

The barking had stopped.

Crickets chirped. The trees whispered.

“Here, doggy,” I called softly.

No reply. I shivered again.

Silence now.

What’s going on here? I wondered.

“Sssshhh. You’ll scare them,” Terri whispered.

The morning sun was still a red ball, low in the sky, as we approached the
seagull nest Terri had spotted the day before.

Bird-watching was Terri Sadler Hobby Number Three. Unlike gravestone rubbings
and wild-flower collecting, she could do this one back at home, right from our
apartment window.

We crouched down to watch. About fifteen feet away, the mother seagull was
trying to herd her three babies back into the nest. She squawked noisily and
chased them first in one direction, then another.

“Aren’t the babies cute?” whispered Terri. “They look like fuzzy gray stuffed
animals, don’t they?”

“Actually they remind me of rats,” I replied.

Terri poked me with her elbow. “Don’t be a creep.”

We watched them in silence for a few minutes. “So tell me again about the dog
barking last night,” Terri asked. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear it.”

“There’s nothing more to tell,” I replied edgily. “When I went to the window,
it stopped.”

Down the beach I saw the three Sadler kids, in shorts and sleeveless
T-shirts, walking barefoot along the shore. I jumped up and started jogging
toward them.

“What’s your hurry?” Terri called after me.

“I want to tell them about the flickering light,” I called back.

“Wait up!” Terri shouted, scrambling after me.

We stumbled along the rocky beach toward the three kids. I saw that Sam was
carrying a couple of old fishing poles, and Louisa had a bucket filled with
water.

“Hi,” Louisa said warmly, setting down the bucket.

“Catch anything?” I asked.

“Nope,” Nat replied. “We didn’t go fishing yet.”

“What’s in the bucket, then?” I asked.

Nat reached in and pulled out a small, silver fish. “Bunker. We use ’em for
bait.”

I leaned down and peered into the pail. Dozens of little silver-gray fish
swarmed around inside. “Wow.”

“Want to come?” Louisa asked.

Terri and I traded glances. Fishing sounded like fun. And maybe it would give
us a chance to ask casually about the light in the cave. “Sure,” I said. “Why
not?”

We followed them down the sandy path to a shady spot on the water. “We
usually have good luck here,” Sam announced.

He grabbed a bait fish out of the bucket, then steadied his fishing pole
against his leg. He expertly threaded the fish onto the hook, then handed me the
pole. The fish flipped back and forth on the hook.

“Want to try?” he asked. I wondered why he was suddenly acting so nice to me
now. Had Louisa gotten on his case? Or was he setting me up for another joke?

“Sure, I’ll try,” I told him. “What do I do?”

Sam showed me how to cast the line out. My first try wasn’t great. The line
landed about a foot from the shore.

Sam laughed and cast it for me again. “Don’t worry,” he said, handing the
pole back to me. “It takes a lot of practice to learn to cast.”

This Sam was certainly different from the Sam we had seen before. Maybe it
just takes him a while to get friendly, I told myself.

“Now what do I do?” I asked him.

“Keep casting out and reeling in,” he said. “And if you feel a tug, yell.”

Sam turned to Terri. “Do you want to try, too?” he asked.

“Of course!” she replied.

Sam started to grab a bunker for Terri from the bucket.

“That’s okay,” Terri said. “I can do it.”

Sam stepped back and let Terri do the honors. I think she must have been
showing off. I’d never seen her bait a live fish before. She always hated slimy
things.

Terri started to cast out her line without any help. I was about to accuse
her again of showing off. But then her fishing line got tangled in the tree
branches above us.

That got everyone laughing—especially when the bait fish squirmed off the
hook and dropped down into Terri’s hair. Terri shrieked, thrashed her arms, and
swatted the fish into the water.

Sam collapsed with laughter on the rock. The rest of us laughed, too. We were
all sprawled out on a big flat rock.

This seemed a good time to bring up the cave. “Guess what?” I started. “Last
night I came down to the beach, and I saw that flickering light you were talking
about in the cave.”

Sam’s smile faded instantly. “You did?”

Louisa’s eyes grew wide with concern. “You… you didn’t go in there, did
you? Please say no.”

“No, I didn’t go inside,” I told them.

“It’s really dangerous,” Louisa said. “You shouldn’t climb up there. Really.”

“Yeah. Really,” Sam quickly agreed. His eyes burned into mine.

I glanced at Terri. I could tell what she was thinking. These three kids
really were frightened. They didn’t want to admit it. They didn’t want to talk
about it.

But they were terrified of the cave.

Why?

I only knew one thing for sure: I had to find out.

At dinner, we sat at the round table in the living room off the kitchen. Brad
was tackling a piece of corn on the cob with his knife, trying to saw off all
the little niblets so he could eat them with a fork.

“Brad… uh… I was wondering about the cave,” I started, fiddling with my
silverware.

I felt Terri’s foot nudge mine under the table.

“What about it?” Brad asked.

“Well… uh… the strangest thing…” I hesitated.

Agatha’s head turned sharply. “You didn’t go into that cave, did you?”

“No,” I replied.

“You really shouldn’t go into the cave,” she warned. “It isn’t safe.”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about,” I continued. I saw that everyone
had stopped eating. “Last night when I went to look for the beach towel, there was a light
flickering inside the cave. Do you know what it was?”

Brad narrowed his eyes at me. “Just an optical illusion,” he said curtly.
Then he picked up his corn and began sawing again.

“I don’t understand,” I told him. “What do you mean?”

Brad patiently put down his corn. “Jerry, did you ever hear of the northern
lights? Aurora borealis?”

“Sure,” I said. “But…”

“That’s what that flickering light was,” he said, cutting me off. He picked
up his corn again.