Case of the School Ghost (5 page)

Why were the letters sent to Connor, Michael, and Jillian? Why did Agatha choose them for some special jobs?

Did anyone else get a letter?

Why did Connor, Michael, and Jillian do what these letters told them to do when they don’t even know who sent the letters? Especially when some of these things could get them in trouble?

What does Connor’s other letter say?

“Did you do what the letter said?” Michael asks Connor. “Did you get a piece of paper and a jar? And did you write the alphabet on the paper?”

“Yes. It’s over there.” Connor points to the piano.

Michael goes over and grabs the paper and jar. “Maybe we should do what Connor’s letter says.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I think we should find out who sent the letters. We don’t want any more trouble.”

But of course, no one pays attention to the dog.

“All right,” Jillian says. “Let’s see if we can talk to a ghost.”

Michael lays the paper on the floor. Connor starts to set the jar down, but then pulls it back. “The letter didn’t say where to put the jar,” he says.

“It doesn’t matter. Put it anywhere,” Michael says.

Connor sets it on some letters in the middle of the page.

Connor, Michael, and Jillian lay
their flashlights in their lap. Then they all scoot in closer and place their fingers on the jar.

“What do we do now?” Michael asks.

“We tell Agatha we’re ready,” Connor says.

“Okay,” Jillian says. “How do we do that?”

Connor shrugs. “I think we just call her name or something.” He clears his throat, then says, “Agatha? Oh, Agatha! We’re here. Are you here, too?” He looks around the dark room.

The jar on the paper starts to move.

Michael’s eyes grow wide. “Are you guys doing that?”

“No,” Jillian says. “I’m barely touching it. See?” She takes her fingers off the jar.

Connor lifts his fingers, too. “Same here.”

I inch a little closer so I can sniff the jar. I smell paint … and soap … and mayo. No ghosts.

“Off the paper, Buddy,” Connor says, shoving me with his elbow.

“I’m just trying to help,” I say. But I back up, lay down, and rest my head on my paws.

The jar stops over a letter. “I,” Jillian says.

Then the jar slides to another letter. “M,” Jillian says.

Connor and Michael say the next letters with Jillian. “H … E … R … E.” “Without the apostrophe that spells out ‘I’m here.’” Michael says.

Jillian pulls her fingers away like the jar is on fire. “Is that really Agatha?” she whispers.

“Put your fingers back on,” Connor says. “It’s moving again.”

Jillian returns her fingers to the jar and the jar sails across more letters. This time Connor says the words as they appear. “Yes … it’s … really … me.”

“I think one of you is moving the jar,” Jillian says.

“I’m not! I swear,” Michael insists.

He smells like he’s telling the truth.

“I’m not, either,” Connor says.

I sit back up. I think I smell a lie on Connor.

“Somebody ask Connor another question,” I say. “Or ask him the same question. Ask him if he’s moving the jar.” My boy doesn’t lie very often. Maybe I’m smelling something else on Connor. Something that smells like a lie, but really isn’t.

“Stop barking, Buddy,” Connor says.

“Maybe he’s barking because he sees Agatha,” Michael says. “Everyone knows dogs can see things that we can’t.”

“No, I don’t see Agatha,” I say. “I—”

“Shh, Buddy!” Connor says again.

I lay back down. I don’t like it when Connor shushes me. And I really don’t like it when I smell a lie on him.

“Okay, Agatha,” Connor says, staring at the jar. “Do you have a message for us?”

“Y … E … S,” Connor reads.

“What’s the message?” Michael asks.

Connor, Michael and Jillian peer over the jar as it starts to move again. “G … O … T … O … T … H … E … F … U … R—”

“Wait. Got … what?” Jillian says. “The jar is moving too fast.”

“The first word isn’t ‘got,’ ” Connor says. “It’s ‘go.’ Go to the … something.”

“Are you sure?” Michael asks. “I thought it was ‘got,’ too. ‘Got other’ something.”

The jar stops.

I have no idea what words the jar is spelling.

“Maybe one of us should write down the letters the jar stops on,” Jillian suggests.

“Would that work?” Michael asks. “The directions say we all have to put two fingers on the jar.”

“Let’s ask Agatha,” Connor says. He turns to the jar. “Agatha, is it okay if only two of us have our fingers on the jar? That way one of us can write down the message.”

The kids place their fingers back on the rim of the jar. “Y … E … S.”

Jillian shines the flashlight around the room. “Hey, there’s a chalkboard,” she says, hopping to her feet. She goes over to the chalkboard. “You guys read the letters to me and I’ll write them down,” Jillian says, holding her flashlight in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other.

“Okay,” Connor and Michael say at the same time.

Michael turns to the jar.

“We’re ready, Agatha,” he says. “Tell us your message.” The jar glides across the paper. Whenever it stops for a few seconds, Michael and Connor call out a letter and Jillian writes it down:

“G … O … T … O … T … H … E … F … U … R … N … A … C … E … R … O … O … M.”

“I think that’s it,” Connor says.

The jar remains still.

Jillian shines her flashlight across the message. She draws lines between some of the letters. “Go to the furnace room,” she reads. She turns to the boys. “Why do we have to go to the furnace room?”

Furnace room? I know about the furnace room. That’s where Maya hid Blue Tongue and his friends twenty or four days ago.

“The jar’s moving again,” Connor says. Michael reads: “Y … O … U … W … I … L … L … F … I … N … D … O … U … T … W … H … E … N … Y … O … U … G … E … T … T … H … E … R … E.”

Jillian draws more lines, then puts it all together. “You will find out when you get there.”

“Do you have any other messages for us?” Connor asks the jar.

“N … O.”

“I don’t even know where the furnace room is,” Michael says. “Do you guys?”

“I think it’s in the basement,” Connor says.

CRACK! BOOM! Connor, Michael, Jillian and I all just about jump out of our skins.

That was one of the brightest lightning flashes I’ve ever seen and one of the loudest thunder crashes I’ve ever heard. It shook the whole school.

“I—I … wonder if we should go back to the library,” Connor says in a shaky voice.

“We can’t go back yet,” Michael says. “We have to do what Agatha says. We have to go to the furnace room.”

But the furnace room is in the basement. And Cat with No Name told me that Agatha wants me to keep everyone out of the basement. He said Agatha doesn’t like people hanging around her school at night, and I’d be sorry if anyone went down there tonight.

“We’ve been gone a long time,” Connor says. “What if people start to wonder where we are?”

“Everyone’s watching a movie,” Michael says. “It’s fine.”

“I agree,” Jillian says. “We’ve come this far. We have to keep going. We have to find out what Agatha wants with us.”

The kids grab their flashlights and head for the door.

“Wait,” I say. “Let’s think about this.”

I don’t think Agatha was really talking to us tonight. I think Connor was moving the jar. I think he was pretending to be Agatha.

What I don’t know is why. Who told him to move the jar? Who told him to spell out GO TO THE FURNACE ROOM?

Here’s another thing I don’t know:

Did the message I got from Cat with No Name really come from Agatha or did he just make it up?

It’s interesting that the message I got from Cat was the same message Jillian was told to record on her tape recorder. Stay out of the basement. But we don’t know who told Jillian to record that message, either.

Maybe the kids are right. If we want to find out what’s going on around here, we may have to go to the furnace room. We may have to go to the basement.

There’s another loud thunder crash when we get out into the hall. Lights in the far hallway flicker.

“I think the stairs over here lead to the furnace room,” Michael says. He points to the end of the dark hallway ahead of us.