Diary of a Part Time Ghost (Ghosts & Shadows Book 1) Read online

  “Please, enough,” she stated, her eyes still closed as if in meditation. “The Mess Box is sealed for the week.” She returned to her newspaper, glancing at the headlines before flipping the page.

  Well, that was that. I was doomed. Might as well just pack my bags and … oh, forget it. Trying to ignore the shadow, I grabbed a couple pieces of toast and mechanically wiped globs of peanut butter on them. I ate with large bites but I didn’t actually taste the sandwich. I plodded upstairs, past Anjali and Gita, who seemed determined to take the rest of the day to resolve their dispute, and flopped down at my computer.

  A week. How was I going to survive a week of stalking shadows? They seemed to be getting stronger, too. Were they going to attack me? And how could I wait an entire week before seeing Sara and Samuel? What would they think if I just left them for that long? And what were John’s intentions? If his shadow was anything to go by, there was trouble brewing in that village.

  My dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. Without waiting for an answer, my sisters just marched right on in and perched themselves on various surfaces: Gita and Anjali on my desk, and Shanti at the foot of my bed.

  “So your book is in the Mess Box,” Shanti began. My two younger sisters made clucking sounds and shook their heads in pretend sympathy. Amazing how their fight was completely forgotten. I guess the unfolding drama taking place in my room was much more entertaining. But creepy: their shadows watched me, as if waiting for the opportunity to pounce. But not Shanti’s; that shadow didn’t move. I knew this was probably important, but that would have to wait until I actually had some mental space to think about it.

  I frowned and looked outside the window. “I’m really not in the mood …”

  “You’re not in the mood to get your book back?” Shanti asked in a needling voice, smiling knowingly.

  Although I was a bit suspicious, I also had to take her seriously. Just between you and me (but I wouldn’t say this to her face): Shanti is smart, possibly smarter than all of us. You can see why I wasn’t planning on telling that to her, right? She’d be even more impossible to live with. Anyway, ever since I could remember, she was always able to figure her way around difficulties. So it was possible that she was actually being serious and not just trying to tease me. Possibly.

  “Yes. I want my book back,” I finally stated, careful not to reveal my desperation, but she saw it, and smiled even more. Even the other two picked up on it and grinned. Man, it was like being surrounded by hyenas. Hungry hyenas. Hungry hyenas who smell a dying antelope. Okay, you get my point.

  “Why do you want your book anyway?” Anjali demanded, swinging her legs in sync with Gita’s. Her shadow seemed to lean toward me, gloating at me. It was really disturbing.

  “I have some work to do,” I replied in a neutral tone, trying not to stare back at the faceless forms that were laughing silently now.

  Shanti scoffed. “What kind of work? I don’t know any school book that has a leather cover. So, why don’t you tell us what you really want it for, and maybe I can help.”

  “Yeah, you have to tell us,” Anjali said in a sing-song voice.

  “Is it a book for making witch’s potions?” Gita suddenly asked excitedly.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, Gita, there’s no such thing.”

  “Then?” Shanti wheedled.

  Sighing, I sat up straight. What could I possibly tell them? Even if I explained about Sara and the shadows, they wouldn’t believe me. Finally, I cautiously offered, “Bibi gave it to me, and it means a lot to me.”

  Shanti’s eyebrows arched upward, reminding me yet again of a younger version of our mom. The similarity was unnerving. “Gee, it means so much to you that you can’t survive a week without it. How touching.” Yeah, that was said with a bit of sarcasm. Just a bit. “Well, I guess I should be heading off now.” She gave an exaggerated yawn, tossed her long, thick braid of hair behind her, and started to slide off the bed.

  “Wait!” I pleaded, and Shanti glanced up, eyes twinkling victoriously. “I need it because …” I hesitated, and then plunged on, “because it protects me.”

  All three girls stared at me. It was almost as creepy as the shadows watching me. Gita chewed on a clump of hair, Anjali scratched her neck, and Shanti leaned against the bed post, arms crossed. I took a deep breath and continued, “Bibi gave me the book so …” I paused and then realized I knew why. I knew how I could explain it so that I only sounded like a partial lunatic as opposed to a complete lunatic. “She gave it to me so I would get off the fence and learn what I need to protect myself from the darkness and to help others, others who … who need help.” It sounded pathetic and unbelievable, even to me, but it was the truth. As I was learning, truth was its own power.

  “Who?” Shanti demanded. Gita and Anjali parroted her breathlessly while leaning forward.

  I gulped painfully and wondered what Mir or Bibi would say about this situation. Unfortunately, neither one of them were there to advise me, as usual. “Well, anyone really. I mean, we should, you know, help others, not just ourselves, right?” I replied, my voice rising slightly at the end.

  There was silence, and then Anjali started laughing, followed by Gita. “And you need a book to do that? Let’s go,” Anjali finally said in between fits of giggles, and the two ran out of the room. Shanti, however, studied me. I shifted uncomfortably under her penetrating stare. Man, she was really staring.

  “Well,” she finally said, “I’m not sure I know what that means, but you seem to believe it, so here’s what I’m going to do for you.” She then continued more briskly, her tone all business. “I’ll help you retrieve this book, and you have to type up my history essay.”

  I started to protest and then thought better of it. Shanti’s expression was pretty firm, just like our mom’s. That alone convinced me that there would be no negotiation. “Fine,” I responded.

  Shanti eyed me and stated in a warning tone, “It has to be done by the end of this week.”

  “Yeah, okay, this week. I promise,” I nodded. Anything to get that book back. I didn’t pause to think about my own mounting load of untouched homework. Basic survival first, math equations and history essays later.

  “All right. Stay here. Do not try to follow me. The location of the Mess Box is Mom’s closely guarded secret that only I know, and I will not betray that secret,” she explained with a touch of pride in her voice and a little dramatic flair. “I will be back momentarily.”

  Shanti sauntered out of the room and headed for the stairs. Meanwhile, I waited impatiently, resisting the urge to chew my nails in nervous anticipation. I wondered what Sara and Samuel were doing, if they were okay, what their hosts thought about my disappearance, what John was planning. I wondered where the closely guarded location of the Mess Box could possibly be. I had always assumed it was in the house, but what if it wasn’t? Could the shadows stop Shanti from reaching it? What was taking her so long? It had been a whole—I glanced at my watch—thirty seconds, and she still wasn’t back. Okay, maybe she would need a little longer than half a minute, but I still found myself muttering for her to hurry up.

  Just then the front doorbell rang; as the chimes echoed through the house, Shanti shouted, “I’ll get it!”

  Don’t answer the door.

  I jumped up, my heart pounding. Was I still dreaming? Without thinking, I hurtled out of my room and reached the top of the stairs just as my sister started to twist the doorknob.

  “Shanti, no!” I shouted with such alarm that Anjali and Gita rushed out of their room and joined me on the landing. We all stared down the flight of stairs to the front entranceway. Shanti’s head jerked up, and she stared at me with a confused expression, just as her arm slowly pulled back. The door quietly crept open. Mom came to the entrance to talk to whoever it was, and Shanti took the opportunity to sneak away.

  “You want to check the electrical connections?” my mom’s voice drifted up the stairs and into my frozen brain.

&nbs
p; Don’t let him in.

  Before I could react, before I could scream something incomprehensible and totally illogical, she was already gesturing to whoever was on the other side of the door. A man cautiously stepped across the threshold, his tall form bent over slightly, his face obscured by a baseball hat. But that’s not why my lungs momentarily forgot to work. Immediately above the visitor, a monstrously misshapen shadow with countless squirming tentacles slithered over the top of the doorframe and up the wall. As if a cloud had crossed over the sun, the inside of the house darkened.

  “What is it and what does it want?” I whispered, horrified, as the shadow crawled across the ceiling.

  “It’s some guy from the electricity company,” Anjali commented.

  “And I’m guessing he wants to check the electricity,” Gita quipped, and the two sisters ran back to their room, giggling at their own sublime humor. Their movement caused the shadow to pause and shift toward the stairs. Before it could see me, I quickly pulled back and crouched behind the low wall bordering one side of the landing (you know, the wall that makes sure you use the stairs rather than gravity to get down to the entranceway).

  “Please don’t see me, please don’t see me,” I whispered as I wiped my wet palms against my pants. I glanced up and froze, not daring to even twitch my eyelids, as a thick tentacle crept above the stairs and onto the ceiling above the landing. Another tentacle followed closely behind, probing the area. Gita and Anjali suddenly reappeared on the landing, screaming delightedly, and ran down the stairs; the pair of tentacles shot after them.

  So this was when I valiantly raced after my sisters and risked my life to save them from the danger that they didn’t know they were in. Actually … no. This was when I ran back into my room and leaned against the door, thus shutting out any sign or sound of whatever was happening below. This was when I just about had an attack of nerves of the highest order. This was when I listened carefully and heard my sisters laughing madly, and so I figured the shadow hadn’t harmed them and probably wasn’t going to. After all, it wasn’t hunting for them.

  “They’re ok,” I whispered and pushed my hands through my hair, which reminded me I really had to wash my hair.

  An agonizing minute later, Shanti trotted up the stairs. “Just coming, Mom!” she shouted over her shoulder, and then dashed into my room (after almost flattening me with the door that she opened with full force). “Here,” she said as she tossed a plastic bag onto the bed. It landed heavily. “It was harder than I thought. Mom and that weird man were in the area I needed to go through.”

  I looked up sharply. I only knew of one weird man. “How weird?”

  “Weird as in weird in big capitals with neon lights flashing. He keeps hiding his face, but I got a look at him. He’s got these super bright, super fake yellow contacts in his eyes. Maybe he’s going to a Halloween party a whole season too early, but it’s just not cool. Remember, by the end of the week!” She wagged a finger at me.

  “Yeah, no problem. Thanks so much!” I said in a constricted voice to the closing door as Shanti skipped out. I actually hugged the plastic bag, I was that relieved. I heard Mom’s voice again. She had returned to the entrance with the electricity guy. I crept out of my room and, hiding behind the low wall, cautiously peered down the stairs.

  “And you’re sure no one else lives with you?” the man asked in a low voice that sounded frighteningly familiar to me.

  Mom stared at the man with one of those “are you nuts?” expressions. “Yes, I’m sure. I think I know who lives here and who doesn’t. What was this about again?”

  “Just a survey, ma’am,” the man replied while backing out of the door, his grotesque shadow following him from above. Then he was gone.

  Surely, it wasn’t possible. Kali was still in the past. How could he have come here without the book? This wasn’t be good. Up until this point, I had thought (or hoped) that most of the weird stuff was on the other side of the veil, not here, not in my real world. We had electricity and indoor plumbing, for heaven’s sake! Living shadows and yellow-eyed crazy men did not exist in this world. Well, I obviously had to reassess this assumption, because apparently they did exist. I was going to add this to the growing list of “things I don’t want to deal with or think about right now.”

  With trembling hands, I reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the familiar stained leather book. Resisting the urge to kiss it, I hung up my “Please do not disturb” sign, and closed the door firmly. Settling myself at my chair, I opened the book to a page with a colorful painting of the Mohawk village.

  “I’m coming,” I whispered, completely needlessly, as I placed my hand down. The sucking sensation pulled me in. The veil was empty, so I continued straight through, landing close to the longhouse where my friends had slept the night before. I remained invisible until a group of chatting girls had passed, and after a quick glance about, I solidified.

  “Ash!” I almost jumped at the voice so close by, and was relieved to see Sara exit the longhouse, followed by Samuel. “You came back! That’s great. We’re waiting for John to come. He promised to take us to the great village, I mean Boston,” Sara rattled on.

  “Well, that’s great,” I responded when Sara stopped to breathe, sensing that something about all this was not so great.

  “Yes, it is. It’s just that …” She hesitated, and then whispered, “something doesn’t feel right.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered under my breath, and then thought that obviously she did have some idea. She just didn’t have all the details of how things were so not right. I glanced up to see John approaching, followed by East Wind. John nodded civilly at us, neither hostile nor friendly, but East Wind’s gaze held nothing but malice. “So, you have returned,” East Wind spoke, glaring at me. Talk about attitude. What is this guy’s problem?

  I just shrugged in response, not daring to say anything. John glanced at me, curiosity evident in his eyes for a brief moment, before they returned to their inscrutable darkness. He may not have been hissing angrily at me, but I was even more worried about John than about Mr. Attitude. “Eagle Song has asked that we escort you to the great village,” John said.

  Not waiting for a response, John walked past us, toward the forest, and then paused. A heartbeat later, I heard the staccato of horses galloping through the forest toward us. John glanced meaningfully at East Wind with raised eyebrows. East Wind shook his head slightly and wordlessly grabbed Sara and Samuel by the arms and pushed me ahead with a knee, back into the entrance of the long house. Sara tried to protest but stopped with an audible gulp when she saw the look on East Wind’s face. Once inside the entrance, the man pulled us all down so that we were crouching behind a stack of firewood. Just then, six horses burst out of the trees and clattered into the clearing in front of the longhouse, where John stood patiently.

  “British soldiers!” Sara whispered with evident relief. She tried to stand, but East Wind firmly pulled her down.

  The soldiers remained on horseback, glancing around the compound and evidently searching for something or someone. Meanwhile, the one who seemed to be in charge turned his gaze to John. Peering through the firewood, I could clearly see the soldiers’ expressions, but the person who most attracted my attention was a tall man who wasn’t wearing a uniform. Sunlight reflected off his pale, stony face, and his cold, yellow eyes were studying the area intently.

  “No,” I breathed out sharply. How was it possible? Okay, I knew I had already asked that, but I just couldn’t seem to get away from this creep. I stared wide-eyed at the hunter who seemed to be everywhere, and then I remembered Bibi’s words, could hear her voice whispering beside me: He can be anywhere. She hadn’t been kidding! Automatically I looked for signs of a renegade shadow, but it seemed Kali didn’t have any shadow at all.

  “Hey, he looks familiar. Wasn’t he on our ship?” Sara whispered before being elbowed by East Wind.

  “Yeah, and everywhere else,” I whispered back, and recei
ved an elbowing as well. But compared to Kali, East Wind was sweetness and light, so I decided to put up with the elbow and the dirty look. Yeah, like I had a choice.

  “Good morning, Captain Coalman,” John called out politely to the soldier closest to Kali.

  Captain Coalman nodded slightly in acknowledgement, before stating, “We’re searching for the Sons of Liberty and their supporters. We hear they may be planning some trouble for the tea merchants.”

  “Captain,” John responded with a slight bow, “you know the Kanien'keháka hold no allegiance to this renegade group.”

  The captain didn’t seem impressed by this answer. Neither was I, as I didn’t even understand half of it. “I hear that some do. You’re aware of what happens to those who harbor our enemies.”

  With another tiny bow, John replied, “Of course, Captain.”

  Kali stared down at John, as if studying him in miniscule detail, and then smiled as if he was pleased with what he saw. He didn’t pay attention to the nervous stomping of his horse’s hooves. “Of course, you know there is a reward for anyone who helps us capture these criminals,” he said in a soft and dangerous voice that seemed to carry a threat even as it offered a promise. “In particular, I’m looking for Mr. Connel or anyone associated with him. He has … something … of value that is not his.”

  John shrugged noncommittally. “If I learn of anything, I shall inform the captain.”

  After a few more verbal exchanges that made no sense to me, the captain veered his horse back toward the forest path he had come from and kicked the animal into a run. The other soldiers fell in line behind him, and in a clatter of hooves, they were gone. Kali lingered behind for a moment, still staring at John, and then followed. Then, there was silence. No one moved or spoke for a moment, not even the birds.