Kay Kay was waiting by the trunk of the walnut tree when Ariel arrived for the party. She looked exactly the same: She wore the same midnight blue dress and dirty pinafore she’d worn every day before, one shoe was still missing and her hair was hopelessly mussed.
Ariel frowned. At home, she always dressed up for parties. Mama would clip on her best hair ribbons and let her wear her shiny black buckle shoes. Today, she was wearing her regular red Crocs because Mama hadn’t packed her party shoes, but still she’d dressed up. This morning she’d added two bows to her hair and put on the white ruffled pinafore while she was waiting by the clock.
“Don’t you want to look pretty for your party?”
Kay Kay tossed her head. Ariel thought for a moment. “Here. Put this on.”
She slid one of the bows out of her hair and handed the hair clip to Kay Kay. It was pink and red, one of her nicest, with a stripe of silver running down the center so it sparkled. Silver to match her eyes.
“Ooh!” said Kay Kay, stroking it. “So pretty! Is it from the manor?”
“It’s from my suitcase.”
Kay Kay clipped it by her left ear and twirled around, trying to catch a glimpse of the bow as she spun. Satisfied, she plopped on the ground next to Ariel.
“Did you bring my present?”
“Yes, but we have to have the party first,” said Ariel.
Kay Kay sniffed, then led the way past the walnut tree. She ducked under the tree’s damaged branch. Ariel followed. Kay Kay stopped not far away by a rock. She pointed to several round biscuits laid out on the rock’s surface. “Real scones,” said Kay Kay, with a grand wave of her hand.
Ariel stepped over a mound of dirt and came closer. They were scones all right, but funny-looking ones. She could see currants sticking out of them, untidy jam streaks, and specks of dirt trapped in congealed butter.
“Those are Aunt Effie’s!” she cried. “The dirty ones she dropped in the garden.”
Kay Kay sniffed again. “Doesn’t matter where I got them,” she said. “They’re still real.”
Suddenly, it occurred to Ariel that her new friend might be poor. Eating thrown-away scones for her birthday, wearing the same dirty dress, and always playing by herself. Her parents must be at work all day, working far away screwing lids on tubes of toothpaste, like Charlie Bucket’s family in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Or maybe they were sick and couldn’t get out of bed. Maybe they even forgot Kay Kay’s birthday. That was probably it. As the only guest she’d have to be extra nice.
“I love scones and jam,” Ariel said. “And look, the dirt comes off.”
Ariel made a big show of brushing off the dirt, then wiped the scone on her pinafore and took a bite. The crust was hard and took a lot of gnawing, but the buttery flavor still flooded her mouth and tasted good. She smiled at Kay Kay to show how much she liked the party food, then gagged on the next mouthful when a clod of dirt she hadn’t noticed hit her tongue. Her eyes watered, but she swallowed it down, dirt and all.
Kay Kay’s scone lay in her lap untouched. Her silver eyes followed Ariel’s hand as it traveled to her mouth and also lingered on the doll. Ariel obligingly kept eating. Kay Kay kept watching. After a little while, Kay Kay began to hum. It was a familiar tune, the one Kay Kay always hummed, and by now Ariel knew it well. Just a few notes repeated over and over. She joined in the humming, crumbs of scone stuck to her lower lip.
Kay Kay stood up abruptly and shook her dress. The uneaten scone fell to her feet. She ran lightly over to the garden wall and sprang up. Her jump looked so graceful. A soft leap, and there she was, perched on top of the stone wall, dangling her legs. Ariel stared at the spot where Kay Kay had jumped. Kay Kay was a funny girl. Now she seemed to be waiting.
Ariel stuffed the rest of her scone in her mouth and looked expectantly at her.
“What next, games?”
“Presents,” Kay Kay announced.
“All right.”
From her seat on the ground, Ariel started to unfasten the silver knob from the doll. Kay Kay’s silver eyes tracked her fingers as they moved. The metal circle slipped off, and Ariel wiped away a splodge of blackcurrant jam from the lion’s mane. It would be nice to keep the funny silver circle. It looked good on Gillian. But then she would have no real present. The hair clip didn’t count; it was a small, everyday thing. Kay Kay was expecting a special gift. Ariel had nothing else except the doll, and she certainly wasn’t going to give Gillian herself away. The very thought made Ariel give the doll a fierce hug. It would have to be the silver lion. She took a breath and launched into the birthday song before she changed her mind.
“What’s that song?” asked Kay Kay, still perched on the stone wall.
“ ‘Happy Birthday,’ of course,” said Ariel. “Don’t you know anything?”
She sang a little louder. Kay Kay was smiling as if she’d never heard the song before. Ariel stood up and held the silver circle outstretched. Kay Kay laughed and clapped her hands.
The ground under her feet was bumpy. Sort of like a garden where someone had been digging. Soft and turned up. Ariel stepped over a mound of dirt and a blown-down stick. Kay Kay beckoned to her with great wild arm motions. To her left, Ariel saw what looked like an old footpath, a faint line of trodden earth that still held its shape. Kay Kay flapped her hands in joyful anticipation. Ariel smiled and waved back.
Then she stepped on the old footpath with her red rubbery shoes and walked forward.
“It’s the manor ghost!” cried Will. “Ariel’s headed right for her!”
Meg stumbled as she ran. In her fear, she’d forgotten to be surprised that she could actually see the ghost. She wasn’t too old after all. The ghost’s body was as clear as Ariel’s: arms, legs, hair, and clothes. Why now? Why not before? She’d been jealous of Will, wishing she could see the ghost herself, but now she panicked. Her neck chilled, and she choked on her next breath. A real ghost.
“She’s singing to it,” said Will.
Will was right. Ariel was singing to the ghost and didn’t seem afraid at all. In fact, she was walking right toward it. Of course, thought Meg—she’s young; the view’s clearer. It probably looks like a real person to her.
“It’s smaller!” gasped Will. “It was bigger last night!”
Meg stared at the ghost figure as she ran. It was small, hardly bigger than Ariel. And there was no green velvet; it was dressed in blue. She was closer now, close enough to see a bright ribbon clipped in the ghost’s hair, one that looked exactly like her sister’s.
“It’s a girl,” said Meg, with sudden realization. “It’s not a woman. It’s a little girl!”
“What?”
“Two ghosts! The Griffinage is full of ghosts! Ariel! Arielll!”
Ariel did not turn. Was she bewitched? As Ariel and the ghost drew closer, the ghost radiated a fierce blue-white light. The ghost leapt off the stone wall and advanced to meet Ariel. Will picked up a rock and hurled it. It fell short. The ghost glanced up and glared but did not stop.
Meg had a stitch in her side, sharp, under her ribs. She ignored the pain. They were still five car lengths away. Three. They’d never get there in time. She tried to call Ariel’s name again, but her throat was parched from running. She could only croak. Meg willed Ariel to look. Stop! Oh, please stop and turn around. But Ariel walked steadily forward, singing. The ghost girl stood with both hands outstretched. Waiting.
Ariel took another step. Her red Croc tipped and dangled for a moment.
Then . . .
They couldn’t see her anymore.
Ariel had disappeared.