Free The Blue Ghost by Marion Dane Bauer Page B

said to Liz. “I think I’ll take a nap.” And she went upstairs.
    Liz cleaned for a while longer. But the work was no fun without Gran. She wandered into her bedroom and looked around. Was there something in the trunk the blue woman had wanted her to see? She tried the lid.
    The trunk was locked. Liz didn’t know where to look for a key.
    Liz lay down on the narrow bed and put one hand against the wall. She chose the same spot where the blue woman had gone through. But nothing had changed. It was still as solid as … well, as solid as a wall.
    She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. She hated naps. Sleeping in the daytime just made her feel muzzy. When she woke, she usually felt worse than she had before she slept. But at least a nap would take up some time until Gran was ready to start working again.
    What had Gran meant by her being aguardian angel? Probably nothing, really.
    Grown-ups were funny that way They used words like
angel
, but they didn’t really mean them.
    Liz let herself sink a little deeper into the bed.
    And that was when she heard it. Laughter. It sounded like kids this time. A bunch of little kids messing around.
    The playing sounds grew louder. Calling, giggling. Someone was trying to quiet them. “Hush,” a female voice said. “Hush! The baby is sleeping. You mustn’t be so loud!”
    The voices quieted, but not entirely. Lizheld her breath, straining to hear. Was it the woman she had seen last night? Was she the one hushing the children?
    Then she heard it again. They were whispering now! And then more laughter. This time the other voice joined in the giggling. Whoever it was didn’t sound like a grown-up woman.
    Liz sat up slowly. She stared at the wall. She didn’t have to touch it again to know it was still solid. But somehow the sound came from there.
    She strained her ears. She half hoped to hear something more. But only half. The other half would be happy if what lay onthe other side of the wall stayed a dream.
    “Elizabeth! Come find me, Elizabeth!”
    Liz gasped. There it was again!
Elizabeth!
But this time it wasn’t the woman’s voice.
    She climbed off the bed. Tugging at the wooden frame, she pulled it away from the wall. When eight or ten inches had opened up, she walked around and stepped into the open space. She stood facing the wall.
    “Elizabeth!”
Liz heard once more. “Can you find me?”
    Liz’s heart pounded. Slowly she raised her hands. She pressed both palms against the wall’s smooth surface. Then she closed her eyes.

    “Elizabeth!”
    Somehow she had to answer that call! Liz took a deep breath, then she stepped forward. Her nose crunched against the wall.
    She stepped back, rubbing her nose. Her cheeks blazed. How could she be so silly?
    There was no sound now, nothing at all. Maybe there had never been any sound. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Maybe …
    But she didn’t know any other maybes. And she didn’t believe any of the ones she had thought of.
    “Elizabeth!” The voice came again. Itwas farther away this time. Faint and far away. “Elizabeth!”
    Liz pressed both palms against the wall and stood perfectly still. She listened. She waited.
    She wasn’t Elizabeth. She was only Liz. Why, then, did she feel so certain that the voice was calling her?
    And why did it feel as if she could pass through this very solid wall if she only tried?

When Gran woke from her nap, she said, “We’ve done enough work for one day. Do you want to go fishing?”
    Liz did.
    They walked down to the lake and stood on the rickety old dock with their poles. They caught only sunnies, but Liz liked sunnies. Gran cleaned them and dipped them in egg and cornmeal. Then she fried them in her cast-iron pan until they were crisp and golden brown.

    Liz went to bed that night before dark had even settled around the old house. The late-June sun didn’t set until after ten o’clock this far north, so Gran didn’t seem especially surprised when Liz said she was