Adelaide Confused (39 page)

Running low on fuel, I took
the long way to Stephen’s home, driving past Singh’s Dry Cleaning
on the way back from the gas station. “That’s where I held up those
guys from your grade with a hairbrush,” I pointed.

“
Yeah, I know the place.
It’s across from Wildwood Apartments.”

“
What do you know about
Wildwood?”

“
I used to live there when
I was little,” he said. “We moved after my dad left.”

My heart lurched to a stop.
I cleared my throat and tried to act normal, saying, “I’ve never
heard you talk about your dad. What was he like?”

Stephen shrugged, feeling
distant and sad. “I don’t remember much. Like I said, he left when
I was really little.”

“What was his name?” I pressed.

“
David,” he answered
quietly. “David Smith.”

It felt like being punched,
sudden, painful, and overwhelming. It all made sense. The things
Smith had been waiting for me to figure out suddenly went together
like clockwork. The name, so common I didn’t even think to make a
connection between Smith and Stephen Smith. But it was all
glaringly obvious now. Smith hadn’t been haunting Sterling’s, he’d
been haunting his son. I remembered it then, the first time I had
seen a ghost wasn’t even at Sterling’s, but in Stephen’s front
yard, though at the time I didn’t know enough to recognize it.
Stupid!

Stephen’s dad was dead and
they didn’t even know it, they thought he ran off and never came
back. It explained why his mother was so overly protective. Even
now as I pulled up to the curb I could see her pacing back and
forth in front of the door. I felt terribly sad for her, when in
the past I’d only been annoyed. She always waited up for her son,
secretly afraid that he’d leave one day and never return—just like
his father.

But I knew Smith, and I
knew he hadn’t abandoned them. I was sure of it, so I knew what I
had to do. I had to find proof.

Stephen moved to get out, but I grabbed his
arm, holding him in place. “How do you know he left?”

He was confused by the
question at first. I’d waited a long time to ask, but he answered
anyway. “He had a gold watch his father gave him, a family
heirloom. Mom said he loved the thing, put it under the bed for
safekeeping. When he disappeared she went looking for it, but it
was missing too. He’d never go anywhere without it, so she knew
that he wasn’t coming back.”

I wanted to reassure him
somehow, but there was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound crazy. So
I let him go. He ducked out of the car, running through the rain. I
watched him, not ready to move. Suddenly I wanted to get out of the
car too. I didn’t care if it was pouring, I needed air. I lurched
outside, thinking I’d pretend to look for an umbrella in the trunk
so Mrs. Smith wouldn’t think me strange.

My trunk didn’t lock, in
fact, it was held in place by bungee wire. I unhooked it, letting
the back pop open. I cursed loud and long at what I saw
inside—which was really the only proper response. There, lying
inside my three-tones-green round-top Chevy Chevette was a flat
book of brown leather, the cover bound shut by a delicate golden
string that wound around it. I hadn’t a doubt in my mind that I’d
just found Demidov’s demon diary.

* * *

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adventure in
Adelaide
Upset
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