Paulie rolled his eyes when he opened the door. I could see by his face we had awakened him.
“What?” I said. Behind him the dead lingered, wandered, stared off into space.
“Not you again. And without your aunt or an appointment. This is too early for no appointment.”
“Lookit,” I said. Buddy stood so close, he kept bumping into me. “If you can tell the future, you shoulda known I was coming.”
Paulie blocked the door. “I don’t tell the future. That’s William down the road a piece.”
I pushed my way past Paulie, wishing for Aunt Odie but knowing I had to do this on my own. “ ’Scuse me,” I said to several spirits, who parted and let me come in the front room.
“I’m Buddy,” Buddy said, and he reached to shake hands with Paulie.
Paulie raised his fingertips like he had gotten his nails done.
“Can’t touch anyone until the right time,” he said. His voice was almost an apology.
Buddy glanced at me. “O-kay,” he said.
Paulie closed the door behind us. The house went dark, dark, dark.
“You need a reading?” he said. But not with much oomph. He gestured toward the table.
“I need answers,” I said.
Paulie drew himself up tall. There was a nervous look around his eyes. “What makes you think I have answers?”
I glanced at the room. The curtains pulled open at the front windows were purple paint color. The same shade of purple as in Paulie’s billowy housecoat.
We stood there.
Toe to tippy-toe.
Me glaring up.
Him gawking down at me.
When I checked on Buddy, I saw that not one ghost was interested in him. He sat at the edge of the sofa, and all today’s visitors (or were they here always, waiting, hoping for someone to drop in and ask about them?) had moved away and crowded closer to me and Paulie. Like they listened to us.
“You know something.” I whispered the words.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even seem to breathe.
“You knew on my birthday.”
Still nothing.
“I heard you. I heard Aunt Odie. There’s something going on, and I need to know what it is.”
Paulie came to life then. Swept one hand at Buddy, pointing his way to the sofa (and dark-cherry-colored divan), then toward a door where I read the words NO ADMITTANCE.