It was our last day in Montreal, and the schedule was packed. Mrs. Redd was making sure we got every penny’s worth before starting on the four-hour trip back home late that afternoon.
Jac and I got off to a late start, mostly because she had turned the television back on in the morning and discovered the Stargate marathon still going strong. I had waited with her for an episode to end, then we rushed downstairs, dragging our suitcases, just as Sid was starting to head through the lobby to look for us.
“Okay, guys, I thought we were gonna have to leave without you,” Sid admonished. “Leave your bags there, and go ahead and get on the bus. Everybody else is already on.”
“No breakfast?” muttered Jac darkly.
I was about to remind her that it was her fault we had missed breakfast, when she produced a bar-shaped item from her bag.
“You’re having a candy bar for breakfast?” I asked her.
Jac looked aghast.
“Please! No. It’s a protein bar, Kat.”
I took a closer took at it.
“It says Chocolate Caramel Chaos on the wrapper.”
Jac pointed at the back.
“Protein. Bar. This is health food. Want one?”
I held out my hand and Jac slapped the bar into it, fishing a second one out of her bag. If our bus slid into a ditch and we were trapped there for several days before being discovered, I had no doubt we could all live very well off the snack collection Jac carried around with her.
I glanced over at Mrs. Gray as I climbed onto the bus. Given what I now knew, it seemed that what I’d taken to be uptightness in her expression was perhaps more worry than anything else.
“Good morning, Mrs. Gray,” I said brightly.
She looked up at me, seeming surprised that anyone was speaking to her.
“Oh—hello, Kat.”
“Last day,” I said. Then I smiled at her, but I cut it short. If I started getting too talky and friendly with Mrs. Gray, she might figure out what Jac had told me.
I waved at my mother and took my regular seat. Jac got on the bus last, barreling down the aisle without a word or look at either of our mothers. This wasn’t the first time I thought Jac went a bit hard on her mom. It wouldn’t kill her to be polite—and unlike the cello drama of last year, this situation certainly couldn’t be blamed on Mrs. Gray. But Jac ignored her and plopped down next to me.
The bus ride was short and miserable. Short because we were going to a part of Montreal that was just ten minutes away. And miserable because when Jac and I got on the bus, I saw that Brooklyn Bigelow was giving it another shot and had sat with Ben Greenblott. With my Ben Greenblott. The other half of my We.
It was a crime and an outrage, and Ben didn’t look too thrilled about it, nor did Lady Velma, who was wedged in between the two of them, partially transparent and providing a glimpse of Brooklyn’s hipper-than-thou fitted leather jacket. Brooklyn was violating just about every makeup and conduct code Lady Velma had, and she sat blissfully unaware of the lecture she was receiving in one ear, as she blathered on to Ben, flipping her hair and blinking her eyes like a confused monkey.
I couldn’t look, and I told Jac I didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t stupid—it was pretty obvious Ben wasn’t into Brooklyn. But that didn’t make the fact that she was sitting there batting her eyelashes at him any easier. I slumped glumly in my seat until we reached our destination. I was the first one off the bus. I shot down the aisle so fast my mom was still in her seat zipping her coat up. She raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head a little and brushed past.
It was just starting to rain as I stepped onto the pavement. According to our schedule, our first stop was the City Hall, and an ancient remnant of the wall from the original fortified city. Unwilling to be standing around when Brooklyn descended with her stupid triumphant stares, I headed toward the public square next to the old building. I was wearing a bright green slicker over my fleece and the City Hall was close. Sid would be able to see me, and if there was any doubt, my mother could pick me out from a mile away, if necessary.
I kept my head down as I walked. The square was mostly deserted. I passed a young couple laughing, completely oblivious to the bad weather. As I approached the square, I saw a man with dark, wild hair and a beaky nose who gave me a bad vibe. I looked away, and put some distance between us as I tried to walk past him. His gaze on me was so intense as I neared him that I couldn’t help glancing over. He looked astounded, and enraged. He quickly stepped into my path. As a reflex, though I immediately knew he was a ghost, I stopped.
“Qui êtes-vous? Qu’est-ce que vous regardez?”
The energy coming off him was dark and angry. I did not have the time, energy, or experience to tangle with him. I turned and began walking in a different direction.
But he was in front of me again, and I could not bring myself to walk straight through him.
“Qu’est-ce que vous regardez?”
I spun around 180 degrees and backtracked. I didn’t get more than three or four steps away when he blocked me again.
“Arrêtez et répondez-moi.”
That one I understood. Stop and answer me. And something else he’d said—I knew more or less what it meant. What did you see? He was asking me what I had seen.
“Back off,” I said loudly, because this was no time to worry what I looked like to anyone watching. “Get. Away.”
He only glared at me, and stepped closer. A force seemed to roll off him—something cold and sharp like the blade of a new knife.
I was afraid of him.
Someone grabbed my arm and I screamed.
“Kat, Kat, it’s me.”
Ben was standing behind me, his hand still on my arm. He was staring at the man like he couldn’t believe his eyes. I wanted to say something, to explain, but I couldn’t, and Ben seemed to have figured out the crucial parts, anyway.
Dead guy. Bad.
The guy lunged forward suddenly, and Ben pulled me back and away. There was a set of steps leading down toward the old wall, and we ran down them. We stopped at the bottom, both of us out of breath, and Ben let go of my arm.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded, and Ben looked back up the staircase.
“I couldn’t see him until I grabbed your arm. But I could tell something was wrong.”
“He’s… different. Really bad energy. I was scared.”
“So was I.”
For the first time it hit me that I was standing there with Ben, who’d just pulled me out of the way of a raging ghost, and we were standing around discussing it. When just two days ago the idea of even talking to him seemed hopeless. Life could be strange. And wonderful.
“Can they… can they hurt people?”
“I didn’t used to think so,” I told Ben. “Unless they scare you into hurting yourself, like falling down a flight of stairs. But this guy… it really felt like he could—”
I felt a blast of cold behind me before I saw him. I whirled around, not wanting to have my back to this ghost for a second.
“Vous ne pouvez pas échapper,” he hissed.
I racked my brain for anything that my mother or Orin had told me about dealing with angry or menacing ghosts. There had been a spirit of an old man in an abandoned house next to mine who had a similar raging energy. But I hadn’t dealt with him at all—I was unable to get over my fear. I had run away, or tried to, and Orin had saved me.
“He’s back, isn’t he?” Ben whispered.
I felt his hand slip into mine. I couldn’t process any of the normal boy-girl hysteria this should have brought. I only felt relieved that I wasn’t alone in facing this now. Ben could see him too.
“Va-t’en,” I said loudly, using the French familiar form that you’d use with a child, or someone you knew very well. Go away.
Several things happened at once, then. The ghost literally reached for my throat. As he did, Ben stepped forward and threw a punch that would have coldcocked any living person. But the blow passed right through the ghost. The man’s hand, however, stayed in place with his fingers at my neck. And suddenly I felt as if he had taken an icicle and plunged it into my throat. I felt a shudder go through my body.
“Vous allez mourir. Vous allez mourir,” he hissed.
You will die.
My legs were getting weak. The pain in my throat felt very real, and was excruciating. I could almost see, from a distance, my frozen body with the ghost’s hand at my throat, and I knew that in a moment my knees would buckle.
“Laissez les vivants touts seules!”
It was my mother’s voice. I had never been happier to hear it.
The grip on my throat relaxed, and I took several wild, off-balance steps back and sat down hard on the pavement. Ben was still hanging on to my hand, and he came down next to me.
My mother and the dead man were face to face. She looked so unthreatening to me—tall but thin as a reed, in jeans and an oversized windbreaker, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. He eyed her like a wild animal might size up something it was about to eat. When he lunged at her the way he had at me, I shrieked.
But my mother did not budge. She stood like a statue, her eyes fixed on his, her lips moving though I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
He went at her again, but she was rooted to the spot, and her expression determined but unafraid. It was as if a force field had sprung up around her. This time he began to falter. Now he was the one stepping back.
My mother said one final thing to him, and he turned abruptly and took several steps away. Then he simply blinked out, like a television signal that had suddenly been switched off.
“Whoa,” said Ben very quietly.
We were both still sitting on the pavement.
My mother came over cautiously, giving me the chance to speak first.
But I was speechless. I’d never seen her do anything like that. I’d never seen a ghost do anything like that. I had so, so much to learn.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
I nodded. Ben did too. She knelt down next to us.
“I’m sorry I busted in like that, but I saw him following you, and I could tell right away he had the potential to be a nasty problem.”
“Do not apologize.” I said firmly. “That man… that ghost wanted to kill me. And I felt like maybe he could. Could he?”
“He could have hurt you. Maybe worse. He had elements of having been human once, but there was something more, too…”
She glanced over at Ben, and looked pained. The look she gave me was downright empathetic.
She did know. Not just about the spirit stuff, but how I felt about Ben. She’d probably known from the very beginning, maybe even before Jac had. She’d just chosen to leave the topic alone. And now she looked like she was about to say she was sorry for embarrassing me in front of him. I didn’t want my mother to feel like she embarrassed me. Not ever. She was my mother and I loved her, supernatural baggage and all.
“Ben’s clairaudient,” I said. “If he’s nearby, I can hear what he’s hearing. And if he… touches my arm or something, he can see what I see.”
It only occurred to me after I said it that maybe Ben would have preferred to keep this information private.
“I have a lot of questions,” Ben said. “Maybe at some point, like after we get back home…”
My mother smiled.
“Anytime, Ben. Come for a dinner if you want. I don’t have all the answers, but I probably have a few. You’re not allergic to dogs, are you? Max doesn’t shed much, but he’s a big boy.”
“I love dogs. Dinner would be really great,” Ben said. He shot me a sideways glance, and I turned beet red. How long was it going to take to get used to this? It was tiring changing colors all the time.
I heard voices chattering and laughing on the square.
Shoshanna was pointing up at the old City Hall, surrounded by her girls. The Random Boys were attempting to scale a statue like they were in a climbing gym. Mikuru and Phil were comparing iPods, while Yoshi hovered nearby looking uncertain. Indira and Alice were bent double laughing about something while Mrs. Redd waved her little hands at the Random Boys in an attempt to get them down.
“Okay, guys, get off of there now,” Sid called, and two seconds later, his word had been obeyed.
Brooklyn stood off to one side, watching Ben, my mother, and me through narrowed eyes. I pretended not to see her. Let her wonder what was going on—there was nowhere for her to spread her gossip at the moment. When we got back I’d worry about what that would mean for me later.
Mrs. Gray was walking with Jac. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. They were talking about something. Jac seemed unaware of anything else going on around her. She kept looking away, and she was scowling. But they were talking. At least they were talking. It was a start.
“Well, we have an opportunity here,” my mother said. “Should we take advantage of it?”
“An opportunity?” I asked.
“The bus is empty. Tim went off to get a sandwich. Maybe we should go do a little spirit housecleaning?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, definitely,” I said. “Are you in, Ben? If you want to learn, this is the best way to do it.”
I got to my feet. Ben was still sitting on the pavement looking a little stunned.
“I think I already have,” Ben said. “Learned a thing or two, that is.”
He was even more of a newbie at all this than me. He had just looked to me for answers that I didn’t have. My mother had to rescue us, for pity’s sake.
But there was something about Ben that made me feel safe, and comfortable. Like being home.
“And yes,” Ben added. “I’m in.”