Karen's Ghost

  For Paula

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Witches and Ghosts

  2 Big and Little

  3 Halloween

  4 Old Ben Brewer

  5 Scary Stories

  6 Not-So-Scary Stories

  7 Help From Kristy

  8 The Mystery Grows

  9 In Ben Brewer’s Room

  10 Ben’s Birthday

  11 “Haunted Birthday to You”

  12 The Wizard of Oz

  13 Ruby Slippers

  14 Story Time

  15 The Ghost in My House

  16 “Trick or Treat!”

  17 Night Fright

  18 The Ghost’s Birthday

  19 Ben Brewer’s Clock

  20 “Is There or Isn’t There?”

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Witches and Ghosts

  “Kristy, do I really have to go to sleep now?” I asked my big sister.

  “Yes, you do. It’s already past your bedtime.”

  I sighed. Kristy is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. But she is thirteen. And when she says to do something, you have to do it. Besides, Kristy was my baby-sitter that night. And you have to listen to baby-sitters, just like you have to listen to teachers and mommies and daddies and grandparents and policemen.

  “One more story?” I begged.

  Kristy shook her head. “You already had one more story. And before that you had three stories.”

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling. “And all of them were about Halloween.”

  “Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?” Kristy asked me.

  “Sure,” I replied. “Witches and ghosts don’t scare me.” (That was easy to say when the light was on and Kristy was sitting next to me.)

  “All right,” said Kristy. She sounded a little uncertain. “Under the covers, then. I hope you have good dreams tonight.”

  Kristy stood up, and I slid under my covers. I scrunched up my pillow.

  “Don’t forget to turn on my night-light,” I said.

  Kristy switched on my special light from Disney World. Then she kissed me good night, turned off my lamp, and headed for the door.

  “Leave the door open a crack!” I called.

  “Okay.” Kristy left my room.

  I was alone.

  I looked around. I was glad the night-light was on and the door was open.

  Halloween was coming. That was why I wanted to hear all the Halloween stories. I just love Halloween. I love ghosts and witches, too. But I will tell you something. They do scare me a little bit. But that is only because a real witch lives next door. And a ghost lives upstairs and haunts his room on the third floor of our house. He haunts the attic, too.

  The witch is named Morbidda Destiny. Well, that’s what I call her. It’s her witch name. Most people call her Mrs. Porter, but they don’t know anything. Morbidda Destiny holds witch meetings at her house. At night, she flies around on a broomstick. (Adults do not believe this.)

  I sat up and looked out my window. Morbidda Destiny’s broomstick was leaning next to her front door. I could see it by the porch light. I guessed she wasn’t going to go out haunting that night.

  I lay down again. I listened.

  CREEEEAK. What was that? Was it Ben Brewer?

  I felt gigundo scared. Ben Brewer is the ghost in my house. I am not sure if he ever drifts below the third floor. What if he does? What if he was in my room right then … watching me?

  “Go away, Ben Brewer,” I whispered. “You can’t scare me.”

  CREEEEAK.

  “Honest,” I said. “You can’t scare me.” But my voice was shaking.

  I sat up and checked out the window again. Morbidda Destiny’s porch light was off! Was her broom still there? Was she out haunting?

  I almost called for Kristy. Then I remembered that I had told her that witches and ghosts don’t scare me.

  I tried to think about other things. First I thought about Kristy. She is not really my sister. She is my stepsister. That’s because my daddy married her mommy. See, I have two families….

  Big and Little

  I think I am lucky to have two families. Most people have just one. Some people do not have any at all. That is so, so sad.

  I am Karen Brewer. I just turned seven years old. I have blonde hair and blue eyes and some freckles. I wear glasses. I even have two pairs. One pair is for reading and the other pair is for the rest of the time. (Well, I do not have to wear glasses in bed at night. But I have to put them on when I get up in the morning.)

  I have a little brother. His name is Andrew. He is almost five. Most of the time, Andrew and I live with Mommy and Seth. Seth is our stepfather. Mommy and Seth live in a little house. Seth has a dog named Midgie and a cat named Rocky. I have a rat named Emily Junior. Seth is a very nice stepfather.

  But Andrew and I have another house and another family. That is the big house (a mansion) where Daddy lives. See, a long time ago, when I was still in preschool, Mommy and Daddy got divorced. Later, they each got married again. Mommy married Seth, and Daddy married Elizabeth. Elizabeth is my stepmother. It is a good thing Daddy has such a big house because Elizabeth has four children. They are Charlie and Sam, who are in high school; David Michael, who is seven like me; and Kristy. Sam, Charlie, and David Michael are my stepbrothers. Kristy is my stepsister.

  Guess what. I also have an adopted sister. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her. She came all the way from a country called Vietnam. She is just two years old. We named her Emily Michelle. And I named my rat after her.

  Another person lives at the big house. That is Nannie, Elizabeth’s mother. She takes care of Emily Michelle while Daddy and Elizabeth are at work and everyone else is at school. Doesn’t Daddy have a big family? It’s even bigger when Andrew and I come to stay. We live at Daddy’s every other weekend and for two weeks during the summer.

  Oh, there are also two pets at the big house. One is Shannon, David Michael’s puppy. The other is Boo-Boo, Daddy’s fat old cat. I have never liked Boo-Boo very much. He scratches if you are not careful.

  The big house is the one with the witch next door and the ghost upstairs. It is a scary place around Halloween. Even so, I am glad I have two houses and two families. It is fun. Andrew and I have two of almost everything. We each have two bicycles, one at the little house and one at the big house. I have two stuffed cats, one at each house. I even have a piece of Tickly, my special blanket, at each house. Plus, Andrew and I have clothes and toys and almost everything at each house. That way, we hardly have to pack when we go back and forth between Mommy’s and Daddy’s.

  Since we have two of so many things, I call myself Karen Two-Two and I call my brother Andrew Two-Two. Those names came from a book that Ms. Colman read to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang. (Ms. Colman is my second-grade teacher at Stoneybrook Academy.)

  Oh. I almost forgot. I even have two best friends. Hannie Papadakis is my big-house best friend. She lives across the street from Daddy and one house down. Nancy Dawes is my little-house best friend. She lives next door to Mommy. Hannie and Nancy and I call ourselves the Three Musketeers. We are all in Ms. Colman’s class.

  Being a two-two is pretty okay, I thought, as my eyes started to close.

  I forgot about witches and ghosts, and fell asleep.

  Halloween

  By the next morning I had forgotten about Morbidda Destiny and Ben Brewer. Sort of. What I was thinking about was Halloween.

  As soon as breakfast was over, I said to David Michael and Andrew, “Let’s plan our Halloween costumes.”

  “Okay,” said the boys.

  We went to the playroom, where
we have lots of dress-up clothes.

  Emily Michelle followed us.

  “Go away, Emily,” said David Michael. “Halloween is for big kids. You’re too little.”

  I could tell that Emily had not understood him.

  “Play,” she said. Only it sounded more like “pway” or “pray.”

  “She just wants to play with the toys,” I told my brothers. “Let her stay.”

  “Okay,” said David Michael. But he looked like he thought it was a bad idea.

  My brothers and I began to pull things out of the dress-up box. We found some pretty neat stuff. Daddy buys us costumes sometimes. He knows we like to pretend. We found hats and a wand and a tiara and a cowboy suit and fireman’s boots and more.

  “I’m going to be a cowboy,” said Andrew, after he had looked at everything.

  “I don’t think the cowboy suit fits you,” I told him. “It’s too big.”

  Andrew tried the pants on and they slid right off.

  “Maybe next year,” I said. “Next year you can be a cowboy.”

  “Yeah,” replied Andrew sadly.

  “Hey, I know! I’m going to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle!” cried David Michael. “Just like on TV.”

  “We don’t have a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe Mom will help me make one,” said David Michael. “What about you, Karen? What do you want to be?”

  I looked at all the stuff we had tossed on the floor. “Usually I dress up as a witch,” I said. “Maybe I should be something different this year. Maybe a beauty queen or a princess. Or Raggedy Ann. That might be fun.”

  “Me! Yook!” cried Emily suddenly.

  My brothers and I had not been paying attention to Emily. When we looked at her, we saw that she had put on high heels, a big straw hat, a feather boa, and a tutu. We could not help laughing a little.

  Then Emily laughed, too. “Funny!” she said.

  “You know, she does look pretty cute,” said David Michael.

  “Yeah,” agreed Andrew and I.

  “Maybe,” said David Michael slowly, “if we get a costume for her and bring her along with us when we trick-or-treat, people will give us more candy.”

  “Yeah!” exclaimed Andrew and I.

  But then I stopped and thought about something. “You know,” I said at last, “Emily is only two. Well, two and a half. She doesn’t understand about Halloween. She is too little. Just like you said, David Michael.”

  “Oh, forget that. That was before I saw Emily dressed up. Now, what should her costume be?” he wondered.

  “Maybe she could be a witch this year,” I suggested.

  “Nah. She has to be cute,” said David Michael.

  “A princess?” suggested Andrew.

  David Michael nodded slowly. “Yes…. I think a princess would be perfect. Now, what about us?”

  We just couldn’t decide. And we still hadn’t decided by the time Hannie Papadakis called up and invited me over to her house.

  Old Ben Brewer

  I went over to Hannie’s after lunch. I am always careful when I cross the street. I look both ways and make sure no cars are coming. I do that before I even step off the curb. Then I run to Hannie’s.

  When I rang the Papadakises’ bell, Linny answered the door. He is Hannie’s big brother. He and David Michael are friends.

  “Hannie!” he yelled. “Your Musketeer is here!”

  Ever since Linny found out that Hannie and Nancy and I are the Three Musketeers, that is all he calls us. He is a pain.

  “Karen!” Hannie called. “Come on upstairs.”

  I ignored Linny. I ran to Hannie’s room.

  “Let’s talk about Halloween costumes,” I said, as soon as I got there.

  “I already know what I’m going to be,” said Hannie. “I am going to be a bride. I am going to wear my bridal dress from when I married Scott Hsu.”

  (Hannie is the only second-grader I know who is married. She had a wedding not long ago. She wore her mother’s wedding dress and she married Scott, this boy down the street. I was the bridesmaid.)

  “I don’t know what my costume will be,” I said. “I don’t think I will dress up as a witch again.”

  “How about a cat?” suggested Hannie.

  I shook my head.

  “A rat? You could be Emily Junior.”

  I shook my head.

  Then we both thought for awhile.

  “I know!” I cried. “I will dress up as Old Ben Brewer. As his ghost.”

  “But then you’d just wear a regular old ghost costume,” said Hannie. “That isn’t special.”

  “It will be to me. I will know that I am Ben Brewer.”

  “Tell me about Ben Brewer again,” said Hannie. “Put all your stories together into one big story.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “I’ll tell you as much as I know.”

  I drew in a deep breath. “Old Ben Brewer was as crazy as anything,” I began. “He ate fried dandelions—”

  “And he never left the house,” added Hannie.

  “Right,” I said. “Well, that was when he was old. When he was young, he was just like everybody else. He got married, and he and his wife had a son, Jeremy. Jeremy was my grandfather, only I never knew him. He died before I was born.

  “Anyway, when Ben became an old man and he was living alone in our big house, a ghost began to haunt him. He would come to Ben’s bedroom at midnight. Ben did everything he could to keep the ghost away, but the ghost always got in. You know how ghosts are. The ghost would come down the chimney or even walk right through a wall or the door. There was no way to escape that ghost.” (I had heard bits and pieces of the rest of this story from Daddy and other people.)

  “Why did the ghost haunt Ben?” asked Hannie.

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “And how did Ben Brewer become a ghost himself?”

  “I don’t know that, either.”

  Hannie looked disappointed. We began talking about our Halloween costumes again.

  Scary Stories

  Ms. Colman is the best teacher I have ever had. For one thing, she hardly ever yells. She never makes you feel stupid. She always listens to you. And she is patient with me. See, I am the youngest kid in my class because I skipped. So sometimes I forget to use my indoor voice or to wear my glasses. Ms. Colman reminds me nicely.

  Another thing I like about Ms. Colman is that she is always making Surprising Announcements. For instance, on the Monday after my weekend at the big house, she said, “Class, I have an announcement.”

  Ms. Colman was smiling, so I knew it would be a good announcement. I looked at Ricky Torres, who was sitting next to me. Ricky and I and another girl (Natalie Springer) all wear glasses. So we all sit in the front row. Ricky and I grinned at each other. Then I turned around and glanced at the back row, where Nancy Dawes and Hannie were sitting. The three of us grinned, too. (I used to sit with Hannie and Nancy. That was before I got my glasses.)

  As I turned to face the front again, I caught Pamela’s eye. Pamela Harding is a new girl. I do not like her and she does not like me.

  I almost stuck my tongue out at Pamela, but I remembered that I should act like other second-graders.

  Anyway, Ms. Colman began to make her Surprising Announcement.

  “Class,” she said, “as you know, Halloween is on a Saturday this year. So we will have a class Halloween party on the Friday afternoon before Halloween.”

  “Yea!” shouted the kids in my class.

  Ms. Colman smiled. Then she went on. “We will have refreshments and you can wear your costumes, of course. We’ll play some games, but then we will …” Ms. Colman paused.

  I drew in my breath. We will what? I wondered.

  “We will turn off the overhead light and sit in a circle and tell scary stories. Anyone who wants to may tell a story.”

  Oh, boy! All around me, kids were saying things like, “Cool!” and, “I can’t wait!” and, “I kno
w the best story!”

  Ricky said to me, “I am going to tell the story about the man whose eyeballs fell out and walked around by themselves.”

  “That is so gross,” I replied.

  Ricky just laughed. “Hey!” he called to one of his friends. “I am going to tell the story about the walking eyeballs!”

  Well, I knew what scary story I was going to tell. I was going to tell the Ben Brewer story, of course. It would be the best of all the scary stories. Ms. Colman had not said we were going to have a storytelling contest, but I wanted to tell the best story anyway.

  “Hey, Karen,” called a voice.

  I turned around. It was Pamela Harding. Gigundo yuck.

  “What?” I replied.

  “What story are you going to tell?” she asked.

  “Secret,” I said.

  “I bet you don’t have a story at all.”

  “I do too. What story are you going to tell?”

  “Secret.” Pamela smiled smugly.

  “Then I bet you don’t have a story.”

  Pamela’s face turned red. “I do, too. And it will be the very best one.”

  Ha. We would see about that.

  Not-So-Scary Stories

  After school that day, Nancy came over to my house. We went to my room and took Emily Junior out of her cage. We let her run around in the special rat playground that Andrew and Seth made for my seventh birthday.

  “Let’s try out scary stories,” Nancy said to me. “What’s the scariest thing that ever happened to you?”

  “Getting lost at Disney World,” I replied. “But that’s not the story I am going to tell. The story I am going to tell is a ghost story. It is much scarier than telling about getting lost at Disney World.”

  “Are you going to tell about Ben Brewer?” asked Nancy, wide-eyed.

  I nodded. Nancy had heard several Ben Brewer stories. They always scared her out of her wits.

  “What story are you going to tell?” I asked Nancy.

  Nancy frowned.

  “You are going to tell a story, aren’t you?”

  “Well, of course,” replied Nancy.