Chapter 17

We Plan a Field Trip

Oliver speaks first. “Are you two all right?”

My hand trembles as I smooth my hair back and feel drops of moisture; Daniel’s tears. Or are they Wyatt’s?

“I’m freezing.” I stand up and look down, into Wyatt’s disoriented eyes.

Jackson pulls his sweater off and tugs it over my head before I can protest. It feels warm from having been worn by an actual living person who isn’t as cold as a corpse. Plus it’s huge on me and really cozy. “Thanks so much. This feels really soft.”

“It should. It’s cashmere. Nice shirt by the way, Annabelle. I hate to cover it up.”

I crack a weak smile because now I’m thinking about how silly I must’ve looked, with Wyatt’s name painted on my chest during the whole dramatic scene of the séance.

“Don’t knock it. I love that shirt.” Wyatt speaks aloud with his own voice for the first time since we dimmed the lights and began.

Jackson grins. “Is that what you were doing out in the driveway earlier, showing Annabelle how much you like her shirt?”

Oliver changes the subject. “Everyone must be starving. Jackson, there’s a plate of sandwiches in the fridge. We should put on water for tea, too. We all need something warm.” Then he adds, “I’m going to run upstairs and get Wyatt a sweatshirt. I can see the gooseflesh on his arms from here and he’s shivering. I’ll be back down in a second. So we can make some plans.”

We’re now sitting in a much different circle around the kitchen table, sipping hot tea and eating cheddar cheese and alfalfa sprout sandwiches on whole grain bread. Even after a close encounter with the undead, Wyatt’s uncle insists on healthy and organic food. Nathaniel makes a bunch of wisecracks about needing a cheeseburger and fries and Oliver good-naturedly shrugs them off, as usual. Wyatt’s half way through his third sandwich before he finally joins in the conversation.

“So what’s the plan?”

We all know he’s referring to our field trip to the psychiatric hospital. Oliver suggests, “How about next Saturday?”

I say, “I have a race, in Boston, in the morning, but it’ll be over by noon.”

“I’m skipping practice to go to Annabelle’s race. After that I’m free.”

Nathaniel announces, “I’m in. I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Besides, you’ll need me even though I’ll have to wait by the van. I’m the paranormal expert.”

Jackson adds, “I wouldn’t miss it either. I can help Oliver look through those files. Besides, I’m a psychologist and Wild Wood was a psychiatric facility. My background might come in handy.”

I’m the only one who’s been to the hospital and seen everything first hand. “It’s as if everyone fled in the middle of the night. The bedding is still on the beds. There are curtains on the windows, and yes, file cabinets that might have files still in them. Everything has been sitting there for over twenty years.”

“Just waiting for us to come along and investigate.” Oliver smiles.

“My uncle’s feeling a historian’s enthusiasm for firsthand exploration and discovery. He loves the story part of history,” Wyatt says.

“Wyatt’s right. This has really piqued my interest. Let’s meet here at three in the afternoon on Saturday. We’ll take Jackson’s SUV and Nathaniel’s van. Bring flashlights in case we end up staying until after dusk. The days are getting shorter and we don’t want to be fumbling around in the dark. I’ll bring a camera. Don’t be late.”

“C’mon, Annabelle. It looks like you’ll be needing a ride home.” Nathaniel points his thumb in Wyatt’s direction. He’s sprawled across the table with his head resting on one outstretched arm, his face beside his empty plate. He starts to snore. Jackson and Oliver rise at the same time, so they can wake Wyatt up and help him climb the stairs.

When we get to my house, Nathaniel doesn’t come inside. It’s late and we’re both exhausted. I kiss him on the cheek and Jeff on the top of his head and run up the driveway and into the house. The kitchen’s dim, silent and empty. Standing at the window, I watch Nathaniel drive away before I turn off the outside light.

My parents are already in bed, so I don’t wake them. Mom will be up before me tomorrow, like always. She’ll pack me some snacks and Gatorade for practice and we’ll talk for a few minutes before I leave, running late as usual.

Thinking these reassuring thoughts I head up to my room, which is a mess. There’s a small TV with a built-in DVD player in my room. I like to watch movies sometimes before I fall asleep. The last ten movies I watched are stacked on my dresser and their cases are all over the floor.

As I kick aside a bunch of empty DVD cases, my foot gets caught in the strap of a sports bra. I disentangle myself and flop onto the bed, still in my clothes. Peeling off my jeans, I keel over onto the bed. I’m so snug and warm inside Jackson’s sweater that I decide to sleep in it. Pulling the soft garment down as far as it will go, I tuck my bare legs under the quilt, and conk right out.

During the blackest part of the night something wakes me up out of a dead sleep. The sound of plastic clicking against plastic. Someone’s shuffling through all those empty DVD cases. The fine hairs on the back of my neck perk up and I shiver, even though I’m still bundled up in Jackson’s sweater and covered with a soft, thick quilt. The glowing numbers on the clock tell me it’s midnight.

“Mom?” I ask, even though I know it isn’t my mother tiptoeing across my mess, toward the bed. I know I’m the only living human in the room.

“Daniel,” I beg. “Please, you’re scaring me. Let me sleep. I have to get up early. I promise I’ll see you next Saturday.”

He stirs the curtains hanging on either side of the closed window. Then silence and cold fill the room. With Jackson’s sweater pulled down over my butt and the quilt up around my ears, I fall back to sleep.