The Ghost of Poplar Point Page 9

  “Reptilian?” Dub suggested. “Viperous? Odious? Despicable?”

  The other kids laughed, but Pam looked so forlorn that Allie hastened to reassure her. “But, Pam, you didn’t crack! That’s great!”

  All the kids gave Pam a little cheer, and she smiled weakly.

  “But Karen could turn into a real problem,” Dub murmured.

  “There’s no way she’s stopping us!” declared Brad.

  “Yeah, no way!” Joey shouted.

  “We just have to make sure she doesn’t find out anything more,” Julie added.

  Everyone nodded, but Allie wondered if they all shared the same misgivings she was feeling. She couldn’t dismiss Karen quite so easily. If Karen wanted to make trouble, she could. And being Karen, she would.

  Later that afternoon, Allie and Dub were at the library, looking at pictures of General John Sullivan and George Washington for Joey and Brad to model themselves after.

  “We didn’t think to ask Uncle Hal for a white wig for Brad,” said Dub. “My mom has an old blond one she never wears. I bet she’d let us have it. It’s long enough to pull back in a ponytail like George’s.”

  “We could put baby powder on it to make it white,” suggested Allie.

  They were poring over an encyclopedia as they talked. Allie sensed movement and looked up to see Karen standing before them. Allie tried not to show her dismay. “How long have you been there?” she demanded.

  “Long enough,” Karen said mysteriously. “Call me crazy, but I don’t remember George Washington being in the script I saw …” She walked away, glancing back to say, “I told you I’d be watching you.”

  When she was gone, Allie put her head down on the library table and groaned. “I can’t believe it! We are so stupid!”

  “Now, wait a second,” Dub said. “She can’t have been there very long before you saw her. What were we saying, exactly?”

  As they tried to reconstruct their conversation, they decided that, besides knowing that George Washington was part of the plan, she couldn’t have learned very much. Still, the way things were going, the pageant couldn’t come soon enough to suit Allie.

  Nineteen

  The following afternoon, the kids held their rehearsal in Dub’s basement family room to make sure Karen couldn’t spy on them. Afterward, Allie and Dub headed for Mrs. Nichols’s store on their bikes. Mr. Nichols and Michael were going to come by at closing time so they could all go out for pizza, and then to an early movie. It was only a little after three o’clock, so Allie and Dub were in no particular hurry as they rode their bikes slowly through town.

  “Want to stop at Polar Freeze?” Dub asked.

  “Sure,” said Allie, “if you’ll treat. I don’t have any money.”

  “Okay,” said Dub.

  They were sitting on the bench outside the store licking their cones when Mr. Kavanaugh came walking down the sidewalk toward them.

  “Don’t look now,” Dub began.

  “I see him,” said Allie. “I guess it’s too late to go inside.”

  “Why should we go inside? It would look like we’re scared of him.”

  Which we are, thought Allie. “Anyway, he sees us now,” she said.

  Mr. Kavanaugh saw them, all right. He headed directly for their bench and stopped in front of them, his expression tight. He didn’t speak, just glared from Allie to Dub and back again.

  “Hello, Mr. Kavanaugh,” Allie said nervously.

  Mr. Kavanaugh didn’t return the greeting, but said abruptly, “Didn’t I make myself clear when I caught you out at Poplar Point?”

  Allie remained silent. Dub said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I’ve had a phone call from someone who said that you two are still trying to meddle in affairs that are none of your concern, namely my pageant. I had hoped you were smarter than that.”

  Allie asked indignantly, “Who is this person?”

  “Someone who wants to do what’s best for this town,” Mr. Kavanaugh said. “Which is a concept you two are having trouble grasping. So let me spell it out for you one more time. The pageant and the hotel project will go on as planned. And two kids, both of whose parents depend upon me for their businesses, would be wise to drop any silly ideas they have about interfering. Now do we understand each other?”

  Neither Allie nor Dub answered. Mr. Kavanaugh nodded and said, “Good.”

  Allie and Dub watched as he strode casually up the street and disappeared into the bank. Allie shivered, and it wasn’t from the mint chip ice cream she’d eaten.

  “Is it my imagination,” Dub said, “or were we just given a warning?”

  Twenty

  Stunned by Mr. Kavanaugh’s comments, Allie and Dub remained on the bench outside Polar Freeze, trying to decide what to do. There had been a real threat beneath the surface of Mr. Kavanaugh’s words; they’d both felt it.

  “Do you think it was Karen who called him?” Allie asked Dub.

  “It would take a lot of nerve, but she’s got plenty of that.”

  “She doesn’t know what we’re planning to do,” Allie said, “so how could she tell him?”

  “She probably made some vague remarks about how we were up to something with his play,” Dub said darkly. “Typical Karen. Who needs the facts to stir up trouble?” He snorted. “And he believes she’s doing it because she cares about what’s ‘best for the town.’ That’s a laugh.”

  “If he knew for sure what we were doing, he’d have said so, right?” Allie asked. “So he’s warning us not to do anything that might mess up his plans.”

  “I guess so,” said Dub.

  “But he made it sound like if we do something he doesn’t like, we’ll hurt our parents’ businesses,” Allie said in a small voice. “I’d feel awful if my mom had to close her store, or if your parents went out of business or something, all because of us.”

  “He can’t really do that,” Dub said scornfully. “Uncle Hal called him a big windbag. He’s just shooting his mouth off, thinking he can scare us because we’re kids.”

  Allie had a momentary image of Skayendady’s tearstained face. After several relatively carefree days, the burden of being a ghost magnet was beginning to feel heavy again.

  “We could come up with another plan,” she said, though she couldn’t imagine what that might be.

  Dub looked at her. “Yeah, right. Like what? The pageant’s just four days away.”

  They talked until it was time to meet Allie’s family at the store, and decided that they weren’t going to let Darryl Kavanaugh intimidate them into abandoning their plan.

  When they were settled in a booth at Papa Gino’s pizza parlor along with Michael and Allie’s parents, Allie tried to hold on to the bravado she and Dub had managed to muster. After the waitress had taken their orders and brought them bread and drinks, Michael told about his day with Fritzi. Listening to Michael and watching his bright, animated face, Allie had a sudden idea. It was sure to make their surprise ending to the pageant even more effective.

  “Hey, Mike!” she said excitedly when he’d finished his story. “How would you like to be in the pageant with Dub and me? In a battle scene?”

  Dub looked at her, a curious expression on his face.

  “I thought the play was for kids your age,” Mrs. Nichols interjected.

  “Well, yeah, it is,” Allie answered. “But there’s a four-year-old boy in the final scene. I was just thinking how much more realistic it would be to have a real four-year-old onstage to play my brother.”

  “Yeah!” Michael exclaimed loudly. “’Cause I’m four. And I am your brother! Can I, Mom?”

  Mrs. Nichols said, “Have you discussed this with the director, Allie?”

  “Not yet,” Allie admitted.

  “If she says it’s okay, it’s all right with me. But you need to talk to her.”

  “Okay,” said Allie.

  Dub looked worried, and Allie knew he was wondering how she could ask Miss Lunsford about Michael w
hen the director didn’t even know about the final scene they were planning. Allie didn’t know herself. She only knew that Michael’s presence on the stage would make their surprise ending much, much stronger.

  “I should probably warn you guys,” Allie said to her parents. “The four-year-old boy dies at the end.”

  “Goodness!” Mrs. Nichols said. “I don’t think I’m going to like watching that.”

  “I die, too, Mom,” Allie informed her.

  “Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Nichols, looking distressed.

  “Mom,” said Michael, “it’s not real, just pretend.”

  “Oh, well then,” Mrs. Nichols said. “I guess that’s okay.”

  Dub turned to Michael and said quietly, “Don’t get your hopes up too much, Mike. First we have to find out if it’s okay with the lady who runs the show.”

  “We’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Allie promised.

  Dub gave her a look that said, How do you think you’re going to pull this off?

  Allie wished she knew.

  Twenty-one

  The next morning, Allie and Dub met early to plan how they might approach Miss Lunsford at rehearsal.

  “I wish you’d worked this out with her before you mentioned it to Michael,” Dub said.

  “I know,” Allie said with a sigh. “I guess I got carried away.”

  “Well,” Dub said halfheartedly, “Miss Lunsford is always talking about improvising.”

  “Dub, Mr. Kavanaugh bullied Miss Lunsford into giving Janelle my part,” Allie said. “He basically threatened her, just the way he did us yesterday. I bet she doesn’t like him any more than we do.”

  “Probably not,” Dub replied. “But she doesn’t want to lose her job, either.”

  “She was mad, though,” Allie said. “I could tell. And she told me the reason she went along with it was so Mr. Kavanaugh didn’t cancel the whole pageant. She didn’t want people to be disappointed.” Allie grinned slyly at Dub. “Maybe she wouldn’t mind if Mr. Kavanaugh is ‘disappointed’ in front of everybody in town.”

  Dub shrugged. “I guess all we can do is ask and see what she says.”

  But to their dismay, when they arrived at the opera house Karen Laver was already marching in through the front door, her chin raised high in determination.

  “Oh, no,” Allie moaned.

  “She must have decided Miss Lunsford needed to hear about her concern for the good of the town,” Dub said grimly.

  “She’s going to ruin our chance,” Allie said. “Come on. Let’s see if we can listen.”

  “We’re getting as bad as Karen, eavesdropping all the time,” Dub said.

  “We’re just fighting fire with fire,” Allie replied with a shrug. “Come on.”

  They quickly stashed their bikes and crept into the lobby, stopping at one of the two arched entrances to the auditorium. Peeking around the corner, they saw Karen standing before Miss Lunsford, a smug smile on her face. Her cheeks were pink with excitement as she said eagerly, “Miss Lunsford, there’s something I really think you should know about the pageant.”

  Miss Lunsford said, “Oh? And what’s that, Karen?”

  “Well,” Karen began, “I just happened to overhear some of your cast members talking and—”

  Allie elbowed Dub and whispered in outrage, “‘Just happened to overhear’! What a liar!”

  Karen dropped her voice then and continued talking in conspiratorial tones. Allie and Dub caught their own names from time to time, but not much else. Miss Lunsford’s face remained impassive, and it was impossible to see how she was reacting to the news.

  When Karen had finished, Miss Lunsford said calmly, “Is that everything you wanted to tell me?”

  Karen nodded.

  “Very well,” said Miss Lunsford. “Thank you, Karen. I’ll take care of it.”

  Karen asked eagerly, “Are they in trouble?”

  “I don’t think you need to involve yourself with that,” Miss Lunsford replied. “And I think it would be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone else,” Miss Lunsford said.

  “What are you going to do?” Karen asked, obviously reluctant to leave without knowing the details.

  But Miss Lunsford wasn’t playing. “Thank you for coming, Karen. Now, if that’s all, you may be on your way. You did tell me how busy you are this summer, didn’t you? And the cast will be arriving any moment.”

  Karen walked back up the aisle to the lobby, a look of discontent on her face. Allie and Dub quickly hid in the shadows behind the popcorn machine. When she was gone, Dub said, “The jig’s up. We might as well go face the music.”

  “Yeah,” said Allie, her voice glum. “Let’s get it over with.”

  Without a word they trudged to the front of the theater, where Miss Lunsford was sitting in the first row. She appeared lost in thought, and didn’t notice them right away. When she looked up, her eyes widened with surprise.

  There was an awkward silence. “Uh, Miss Lunsford,” Allie began. “There’s something we have to tell you. See, we found out what really happened at Pop—”

  But, to her surprise, Miss Lunsford interrupted to say, “And there’s something I’d like to tell you. It’s my feeling that the pageant is coming together quite nicely, except for the ending, which I think needs a little work, don’t you?”

  Dumbly, Allie and Dub nodded.

  “So I’m delighted to hear that you have embraced the idea of improvising,” she went on. “You know my position on that. It keeps things fresh. And even directors enjoy surprises.” She looked at them pointedly, a funny, crooked smile playing about the corners of her mouth.

  Allie blinked, too taken aback for the moment to respond. Then she gathered her wits and asked, “One of our, um, improvisations might possibly involve having a real four-year-old boy play Skayendady’s little brother. I was just wondering if that would be okay.”

  “Interesting idea,” said Miss Lunsford, nodding with approval. Then she held up both hands, palms out. “Don’t tell me any more. Surprise me.”

  Allie smiled. “Okay.”

  Some of the other cast members arrived, and Miss Lunsford stood up. In a low voice she said, “For now, I think it’s best if I know nothing more about this. But if there’s anything I can do to help out the night of the production, you let me know.” She waved to the kids who were coming down the aisle, and moved to speak to them.

  Allie and Dub looked at each other in wonder. “I can’t believe it!” Allie said after a moment.

  “Me neither,” said Dub. Then he added slowly, “You know, I think Karen may have actually done us a favor by telling on us.”

  “It would kill her to know that,” Allie said dryly.

  Dub grinned. “Then I may just have to tell her.”

  Twenty-two

  With only two more days before the festival on Saturday, Allie and the rest of the cast were becoming excited—and nervous. At the Whitwells’ house that Thursday afternoon, Michael joined Allie, Dub, Brad, Joey, Julie, and Pam to run through the new ending from start to finish, just as if it were the real thing.

  While they waited for Uncle Hal to show up with the promised costumes and props, they admired Brad in his outfit. Wearing Dub’s mother’s blond wig dusted with baby powder, with the ends tied back in a little ponytail, he looked a lot like Washington. The rest of his costume consisted of a white shirt, to which Allie had added frilly lace at the neck, and a satin vest. Mrs. Nichols had provided a pair of kneehigh boots for him to tuck his pants into.

  In their research at the library, Allie and Dub had found letters and speeches given by Cornplanter, George Washington, and General Sullivan. Dub, Brad, and Joey were going to use portions of their characters’ actual words. Allie was a little worried, not about Dub and Brad so much, but about Joey, who hadn’t realized when he took the part that memorization was going to be required. He was complaining, “Man, this is too much like school,” when the doorbell rang. They opened the door to Uncle Hal.

 
He pointed to the driveway, where the van was parked, the rear doors flung open. “Come check out my wares,” he said.

  They all ran out to the driveway, where Uncle Hal pulled out piles of old-fashioned-looking military jackets and pants in shades of blue and gray and brown, some with epaulets and shiny buttons. He held up a brass trumpet, which Joey immediately seized.

  “Cool! I can use this to lead the charge!” he cried, and blew a series of piercing blasts.

  Uncle Hal had brought military hats of all sorts, too, and in short order the soldiers were dressed. At first Michael was disappointed not to be able to wear a uniform, but he forgot all about clothing when Uncle Hal brought out the “guns.” Allie thought her little brother’s eyes would bug out of his head as Uncle Hal demonstrated how to use the starter pistols. To Allie they sounded real.

  “Okay, now,” Uncle Hal said, “you said you needed smoke bombs.”

  “Yeah,” Dub said eagerly. “Did you bring some?”

  The kids all crowded closer to look.

  “After careful consideration, I decided to bring the grenade-style units,” Uncle Hal said, holding up a little canister.

  “Grenade style!” Joey repeated happily. “Cool!”

  “See, you just pull the pin here,” Uncle Hal explained. “You don’t have to mess with a match. You’re not going to believe how much smoke these babies give off.”

  He held the grenade out and said to Michael, “You want to pull the pin, little buddy?”

  Michael nodded eagerly.

  “Wait, Uncle Hal, are you sure it’s safe?” Allie asked.

  “This here’s a nonexplosive, nontoxic model. See the label? Says they’re for use in ‘theatrical productions,’ which is what you’ve got here, plus in magic shows, police drills, and what have you,” said Uncle Hal. “They’re perfectly safe. No way I’d endanger my little buddy here,” he added with a wink at Michael. “Go ahead. Just tug on that pin right there and toss it onto the grass.”