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Well, first it was the Hanging Hill Publick House.”
    “Right,” said Zack. That was as far back as Judy’s theater history lesson had gone yesterday. She’d never made it all the way back to ye olde scaffold-and-noose days.
    “My mom’s heading back to the library today to learn more.”
    Zack thought about asking Meghan’s mom if she knew of any Pilgrims who had dangled from the gallows on Hangman’s Hill. Maybe they’d hanged juggling girls, too. Zack couldn’t figure out why anybody would do that. Mimes, maybe. But not jugglers.
    As they marched down the steps, the hard rubber heels of their running shoes thudded against the metal treads. The deep ringing sound reverberated off the stairwell walls.
    “Sounds like bells, hunh?” said Meghan.
    “Yeah,” said Zack. “Church bells.”
    “I think theaters are a lot like churches,” said Meghan.
    “Because of all the pageantry and costumes and stuff?”
    “That plus the big emotions trapped inside both buildings. In churches, you have the joy of weddings, the sadness of funerals.”
    “And in a theater,” said Zack, “you have comedies and tragedies.”
    “Exactly. The walls soak it all up. I figure that’s why so many churchyards and theaters are haunted.”
    Zack froze again. This time in midstep. “What?”
    “A lot of theaters attract ghosts, Zack. Every playhouse I’ve ever worked in had at least one.”
    “Really?”
    “Sure. There was this theater where the balcony seats kept folding down all by themselves because a bunch of ghosts wanted to see our show.”
    “Unh-hunh.”
    They started walking down the steps again.
    “There’s this theater in Ohio that’s haunted by a wealthy woman whose husband shot her when he found out she had, like, a major crush on the show’s leading man. You can still see her up in the balcony, waiting for her handsome hero to make his next entrance, which, of course, he never does, so she just sits there and sighs forlornly.”
    They clunked down to the second floor.
    “Meghan,” said Zack tentatively, “do you really believe in ghosts? Do you really see them?”
    “Well, duh. Don’t you?”
    “What about this theater? Is it haunted?”
    “Uh, I think so.” She pointed down the steps. “That girl down there? Come on. She has to be a ghost. Nobody would wear a dress like that unless they were dead.”
    Zack whipped around just in time to see the little girl disappear.
    This time she was juggling bowling pins.

28
    This was so cool!
    Meghan McKenna was a kindred spirit. A fellow Ghost Seer!
    “Not everyone can see them,” Zack said as they raced across the lobby and headed for the curving staircase leading down to the rehearsal room.
    “I know,” said Meghan. “Especially not adults!”
    “Yeah. Except at night. Just about everybody can see ghosts at night.”
    “Only if the ghosts want to be seen.”
    “Or if the living person really wants to see the ghost. Like at a séance, or something.”
    “True,” said Meghan. “And even when you can’t see ’em, you can usually hear ’em— if they want to be heard.”
    “Exactly!” said Zack.
    “You can sort of feel ’em, too,” said Meghan. “Wind, chills, goose bumps.”
    “I know! I felt the Pilgrim walk right through me!”
    “What Pilgrim?”
    “Oh, he’s this guy who hangs himself in the stairwell.”
    “Neat. Must’ve been one of the original stars here at the Hanging Hill. Guess he’s stuck here.”
    “Yeah. They keep him on a short leash.”
    Meghan laughed.
    “I think Juggler Girl is afraid of him.”
    “How come?”
    “She said some stuff that made me think she and the Pilgrim weren’t playing on the same team.”
    “Like what?”
    Zack did his best Juggler Girl impression: “Don’t listen to that one. He’s one of the others. Whooo-oooh!”
    “Wow! What did she mean? One of the others?”
    Zack shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    “Well… we need to find out.”
    “We do?”
    “Definitely. Aren’t you