Free I So Don't Do Spooky by Barrie Summy

plastic handle on top. A rubber hose with a metal end snakes out from the back. Totally reminds me of my old Fisher-Price cassette player + microphone.
    â€œThis is a Geiger counter. It scientifically measures electromagnetic radiation,” Zane says. “So I can tell if there’s ghost activity in a particular setting.” He holds it like it’s real gold. “I made it myself.”
    Amber’s hanging on his every word. Dana looks less convinced.
    Junie’s up close at the table, examining the equipment. “This is the gaussmeter?” She points to a black box about the size of a calculator, but thicker.
    Zane carefully lays down the Geiger counter, coiling the hose around its base. He lovingly picks up the gaussmeter. “It is.”
    â€œIs it the same thing as a magnetometer?”
    Zane’s eyes open wide in surprise. He’s not used to dealing with people like Junie who’re chock-full of engineering genes. “It is.”
    â€œCan I see what it looks like on?”
    â€œSure. It’s charged.” He prods the switch to On and the skinny needle on the screen wiggles like a hula dancer, then settles in at zero.
    Ack. Eek. Ike. I smell coffee. It’s my mother. Apparently she found the note I left her about the psychic fair. I stuck it under a pile of espresso beans in our usual meeting place, the pear tree in our backyard.
    The gaussmeter needle starts hopping.
    â€œI don’t believe it!” Zane says. “We’re showing activity.” He starts striding around the room, the meter cradled in his palm.
    On the table, a couple of metal rods clang against each other.
    â€œGrab the Geiger counter!” Zane says to Junie, his voice quivering with excitement.
    She picks it up and turns it on. The rubber hose bounces in the air. She grabs it.
    â€œWhat can I do? What can I do?” Amber’s pogoing up and down, minus the pogo stick.
    â€œCamera!” Zane’s gone bug-eyed. “I haven’t seen activity this strong in a while. Watch for ectoplasmic mist, Amber.” He’s walking toward me.
    â€œHi, Sherry,” Mom says. “What’s going on?”
    I whiz to the corner of the tent, figuring she’ll follow me. I turn my back on everyone. “The equipment’s sensing you, Mom. You gotta get outta here.”
    â€œDana,” Zane says, “close the flap. Beginner ghosts have trouble with thresholds. Let’s see if we can trap this one in here.”
    â€œWhat makes you think this is a beginner ghost?” I call over my shoulder, doing my best to not sound defensive.
    â€œComing here, with all this equipment.” Zane doesn’t even look up from the meter. “A seasoned ghost would know better.”
    â€œI can’t get out.” Mom’s panicking.
    â€œJunie.” I wave her over to me.
    As she gets closer, the Geiger counter clicketyclicks like it’s having seizures. Junie’s fighting with the hose, which surges and sways around her face.
    â€œIt’s my mom!” I whisper.
    She goes still. All it takes is a millisecond. A millisecond of not paying attention to the excited rubber hose.
    Whap
. It smacks her ear.
    â€œOw!” Junie yells. She drops the Geiger counter.
    I scoop it up before it hits the floor. I turn it off and set it down.
    Then I cover my mouth with my hand and, doubled over, race across the room. “Gonna barf. Gonna barf.”
    I throw open the tent flap.
    Mom whooshes out with a breathy “Catch you later.”
    I sink down to the grass; my head flops against my knees. I’m sweating buckets.
    Finally, Junie comes out and sits next to me. “You okay, Sherry?”
    â€œThat call was too crazy close, Junie. He knew my mom was there. He wanted to trap her. Who knows what he would’ve done to her. Yikes.”
    â€œYour mother needs to stay way far away from Zane and his equipment.” Junie rubs my back.