Free The Ghost of Graylock by Dan Poblocki Page B

missing.
    “They were right here,” said Neil, totally confused.
    The screen went black. A gust of wind rustled the grass all the way down the hill. Neil clutched the camera tightly. He felt a hand against the small of his back. He turned to look at Wesley, who clearly was not touching him. Neil felt pressure between his shoulder blades. His sneakers dragged forward as the swing began to move. Neil turned his head to see who was pushing him.
    No one was there.
    Neil leapt off the seat and ran from the swing set. The swing beside Wesley moved back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. As if someone had taken his place. Then the swing suddenly stopped, the chains hung straight down. Neil almost fell backward, but caught himself just in time. “Someone pushed me,” he said. Wesley stared at the seat in astonishment.
    For some reason, Neil turned and glanced down the hill. In the middle of the street, a hundred yards away, a figure was watching him. She was dressed in white. He held his hand above his eyes to shield the sun, but he couldn’t make out her face.
    Fingers clutched his wrist, and Neil shrieked. It was Wesley. Wesley laughed and then asked, “What are you looking at?”
    “That woman …” Neil pointed. But the street was empty. His skin felt as if it had been replaced by sandpaper. He was itchy all over.
    “What woman?” Wesley stepped forward. “Neil? You’re acting weird.”
    “She was right there! Don’t tell me I was the only one who saw her.”
    “Sorry.”
    Neil didn’t want to hear anymore. He tossed the camera back into the satchel. “I’m not imagining things. Let’s go find her.”
     
    The boys explored every alley on the way back, but they found no woman wearing a white uniform.
    When they burst through the shop’s front doors, several customers looked up at them. Neil realized that his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide. He slipped into the booth near the front door, where he put his head in his hands, trying impossibly to hide. He couldn’t come in here acting like a total freak, but that’s exactly how he felt. Even Wesley “Green Man” Baptiste was looking at him funny.
    He’d hoped that seeing the ghost again would take him away from everything of which he was frightened. Now he was worried that he was seeing things: first the phantom photos in the camera and then the woman in the street. You’ve got to get us out of here , his dream mother had said. But, it seemed, Neil had only traveled farther into the padded room.
    Claire waved at the boys as the café’s phone rang. She picked it up. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed their dramatic entrance.
    “What do we do?” Wesley whispered.
    “We have to tell Bree,” said Neil.
    “Eric too,” said Wesley. “Maybe they’ll have an idea about those extra pictures. Try the camera again.”
    Neil pulled the device out from the bag, but the screen wouldn’t change from black no matter how many times he hit the power button. He shook his head, disappointed. Dead batteries — again! This had to mean the woman he’d seen in the street had been a spirit, didn’t it? He clicked open the camera’s small side panel, slid the batteries out, and handed them back to Wesley.
    “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” he asked.
    Before Wesley could answer, Claire approached and slid into the booth next to him. “So!” she said. “It turns out we’re having a party tonight. And guess what?”
    “What?” the boys asked at the same time.
    “You’re both invited.”

E VERY MONTH, THE AUNTS AND THEIR FRIENDS GOT TOGETHER to drink and eat and watch their favorite “Best Bad Movies.” With the arrival of their niece and nephew that week, Claire and Anna had forgotten that the movie night was upon them. And worse, it was their turn to host. A group of at least eight adults would be showing up around seven thirty that evening, expecting hors d’oeuvres.
    After a stop at the grocery store, Neil felt a chill as he walked