the Jameson sisters’ messages in Adam’s
house. “But dead girls do.”
Mr. Thomas squints at me.
“Has anybody ever told you you’re a very strange little white girl?”
I smile. “All the time.”
Chapter Nine
“I can’t believe how much
fun this is.” Abigail is sitting cross-legged on top of the dresser in my room
playing a game on Adam’s Gameboy. “Honestly, Adam, you don’t know how lucky you
are to have such wonderful things to play with. When I was alive people’s idea
of a fun toy was a hoop and a stick.”
Adam is staring in
Abigail’s direction, his mouth hanging open. To his eyes, it must look like his
Gameboy is floating in a cloud of gray mist, playing itself. “Next time I come
I’ll bring my laptop. You can play games on it, and it’s got a DVD player if
you’d like to watch a movie.”
Abigail looks up, her
eyes wide with excitement. “A movie! Oh, Miranda, I like your friend. It’s ever
so much more entertaining with him around.”
I laugh. “You only like
him because he’s got better toys than I do.”
“Well,” Abigail looks up
from her game. “He could hardly have worse ones.” The Gameboy plays a mournful
song, and she looks back down at it. “Oh, no. I died. The story of my life.”
I
nudge Adam. “You can see why it didn’t make any sense to me the first time I
heard the expression ‘silent as the dead.’”
Abigail loads another
cartridge into the Gameboy. “People who think the dead are silent are very poor
listeners.”
“Hey,” Adam says suddenly.
“That just made me think of something. Abigail, since you live in the world of
the dead, why can’t you just find Charlie T and ask him who killed the Jameson
sisters?”
“It’s not that simple,” I
mutter, knowing exactly what Abigail is about to say.
“You living,” Abigail
starts, like I knew she would, “ you always think that the world of the dead is
about the same size as Wilder...that it’s the easiest thing in the world to
just look somebody up. But the world of the dead is much, much bigger than the world
of the living. Think about all the generations of people who lived out their
lives, all the centuries that passed before the current generation of the
living was even born. All those people who came before are now in the world of
the dead. Our world has a much larger populationthanyours.
Plus,we’reallspiritstherewithnoreal bodies or addresses. We’re very hard to
look up.”
“There is no Yellow Pages
of the dead,” I add. “For years I pestered Abigail to find my dad, but she
never could. I think our only hope of figuring out who the killer was is to do
regular old research. We need to find out who was on the City Council when the
murder happened. Then we need to find out which of the city councilmen had
sons.”
“But what if Mr. Thomas
is right?” Adam says. “What if everybody who was involved turns out to be
dead?”
“Then,” I sigh, “I guess
we’ll never know, and your house will keep right on being haunted.”
Adam’s
hands flutter in frustration. “But what about that ESP thing you have? Can’t
you figure out who did it that way?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I
can look at people and see things about them sometimes, but except for seeing
Abigail, I don’t have any special powers when it comes to seeing dead people.”
“But,” Abigail says,
setting down the Gameboy suddenly. “If the man who did it is still alive, when
you see him, you’ll know.”
“What will I know?”
“You’ll know he is the
murderer,” Abigail says. “You’ll feel it in your blood.”
“Abigail,” Adam says,
“how do you know she’ll know?”
“Because I understand the
Sight,” Abigail says. “When I was alive, I had it, too.”
“I don’t know why I bother to watch horror movies
anymore,” Adam says. “I’m living in one.”
After Adam begged her and
promised to do a lot of chores around the house, Mrs. So agreed to drive us to
the public library in
house. “But dead girls do.”
Mr. Thomas squints at me.
“Has anybody ever told you you’re a very strange little white girl?”
I smile. “All the time.”
Chapter Nine
“I can’t believe how much
fun this is.” Abigail is sitting cross-legged on top of the dresser in my room
playing a game on Adam’s Gameboy. “Honestly, Adam, you don’t know how lucky you
are to have such wonderful things to play with. When I was alive people’s idea
of a fun toy was a hoop and a stick.”
Adam is staring in
Abigail’s direction, his mouth hanging open. To his eyes, it must look like his
Gameboy is floating in a cloud of gray mist, playing itself. “Next time I come
I’ll bring my laptop. You can play games on it, and it’s got a DVD player if
you’d like to watch a movie.”
Abigail looks up, her
eyes wide with excitement. “A movie! Oh, Miranda, I like your friend. It’s ever
so much more entertaining with him around.”
I laugh. “You only like
him because he’s got better toys than I do.”
“Well,” Abigail looks up
from her game. “He could hardly have worse ones.” The Gameboy plays a mournful
song, and she looks back down at it. “Oh, no. I died. The story of my life.”
I
nudge Adam. “You can see why it didn’t make any sense to me the first time I
heard the expression ‘silent as the dead.’”
Abigail loads another
cartridge into the Gameboy. “People who think the dead are silent are very poor
listeners.”
“Hey,” Adam says suddenly.
“That just made me think of something. Abigail, since you live in the world of
the dead, why can’t you just find Charlie T and ask him who killed the Jameson
sisters?”
“It’s not that simple,” I
mutter, knowing exactly what Abigail is about to say.
“You living,” Abigail
starts, like I knew she would, “ you always think that the world of the dead is
about the same size as Wilder...that it’s the easiest thing in the world to
just look somebody up. But the world of the dead is much, much bigger than the world
of the living. Think about all the generations of people who lived out their
lives, all the centuries that passed before the current generation of the
living was even born. All those people who came before are now in the world of
the dead. Our world has a much larger populationthanyours.
Plus,we’reallspiritstherewithnoreal bodies or addresses. We’re very hard to
look up.”
“There is no Yellow Pages
of the dead,” I add. “For years I pestered Abigail to find my dad, but she
never could. I think our only hope of figuring out who the killer was is to do
regular old research. We need to find out who was on the City Council when the
murder happened. Then we need to find out which of the city councilmen had
sons.”
“But what if Mr. Thomas
is right?” Adam says. “What if everybody who was involved turns out to be
dead?”
“Then,” I sigh, “I guess
we’ll never know, and your house will keep right on being haunted.”
Adam’s
hands flutter in frustration. “But what about that ESP thing you have? Can’t
you figure out who did it that way?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I
can look at people and see things about them sometimes, but except for seeing
Abigail, I don’t have any special powers when it comes to seeing dead people.”
“But,” Abigail says,
setting down the Gameboy suddenly. “If the man who did it is still alive, when
you see him, you’ll know.”
“What will I know?”
“You’ll know he is the
murderer,” Abigail says. “You’ll feel it in your blood.”
“Abigail,” Adam says,
“how do you know she’ll know?”
“Because I understand the
Sight,” Abigail says. “When I was alive, I had it, too.”
“I don’t know why I bother to watch horror movies
anymore,” Adam says. “I’m living in one.”
After Adam begged her and
promised to do a lot of chores around the house, Mrs. So agreed to drive us to
the public library in
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