The first thing Eddie saw when he woke up Monday morning was the Grischer’s feet. Again, he had missed her arrival. And now as he roused himself, there they were, right in his face—two long, narrow feet wearing pointy suede boots the color of a fawn.
It was not a good start to the day.
A moment later, the Library door opened. KA-BANG!
“Can we come in, Ms. Grisch?”
Eddie perked up. It was Hazel! Other children giggled in the background.
“We just want to peek,” said Hazel.
“Peek?” said the Grischer. “Peek at what?”
“At the bookshelves,” said Hazel. “We want to see if there are any new stickies.”
“I’ve already checked,” said the Grischer, “and—wait a minute! What’s that you’re wearing on your shirt?”
Hazel stepped forward while her friends scattered to the shelves. Eddie watched their feet rush past.
“Do you mean this?” said Hazel. “It’s a button. See? The kind you pin on. My mom has a machine to make them. For her store in the mall. It’s called Whoopsidoodle, and it has—”
“Never mind what it has. Show me the button.”
“Sure,” said Hazel. “See? It says ‘please save the library.’ Just like the stickies!” Her voice bubbled with excitement. “We made twenty-five on Saturday. Yellow like the stickies.”
There was a silence. The Grischer’s long legs twisted slowly around one another. “Are other students wearing these buttons, too?”
“Yeah, lots,” said Hazel. “But we haven’t given them all away yet. Would you like one?”
“No!” said the Grischer abruptly. “But—”
“It’s okay,” said Hazel. “We can make more.”
At that moment, a pair of red shoes came bounding into view—one of Hazel’s friends. “No new stickies this morning!” reported Marigold from Room 19.
“We looked all over,” added Lucy, right behind.
“That’s okay,” said Hazel. “We can’t expect a new sticky every day. Bye, Ms. Grisch. See you later!”
As the girls left, they passed two more children coming in. Boys, from the look of their shoes—brown sandals and black-and-white high-tops. They were pulling a grown-up Squisher—men’s loafers.
“Just came to take a look at the rocking chair,” said the Squisher. “I remember the old days when Miss Cavendish used to visit. My boys are all excited that I knew her. Hey, yeah, there it is. The chair! Wow! Look at it.”
“Yes,” said the Grischer sourly. “Look at it.”
“Want to see my new button, Ms. Grisch?” said one of the boys. “It looks just like the yellow stickies.”
“Mine, too,” said the other. “See?”
“Great idea, these buttons,” said the big Squisher. “I’ve been trying to get my boys to read more. Maybe you have some suggestions?”
The Grischer was obliged to follow them to the bookshelves.
Watching from under the desk, Eddie was dumbfounded. He had listened—to Hazel, to the boys and their father—with growing astonishment. Buttons? His stickies had been turned into buttons? And the children were wearing them at school? How amazing was that?
Not as amazing, it turned out, as what happened next . . .
THUMP went the floor behind Eddie.
“YOW!” said a familiar voice.
Eddie turned. “Alfie?”
Alfie lay flipped on his back on the linoleum floor, his legs waving wildly. After an awkward roll, he clambered to his feet.
“Alfie!” whispered Eddie, rushing over. “How did you get here?”
“I FELL!” said Alfie. “It really HURT, Eddie!”
“Shh!” Eddie listened for the Grischer’s voice. It was faint now, in the distance. “Okay, tell me, quick—how did you get out of the drawer?”
“There’s a little GAP at the back.” Alfie danced in excited circles. “Between the DRAWER and the TOP of the DESK. I FOUND it, Eddie, all by MYSELF! Auntie Min didn’t even know it was there. YOU didn’t know about it, either.”
“Wow, Alfie, that’s great! We can get Aunt Min out, too.”
Alfie stopped dancing. “Uh, no. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I had to FALL, Eddie. There’s nothing to hold ONTO. I just FELL!”
Eddie sighed. Alfie was right. Min couldn’t handle a long drop onto a hard floor.
“Anyway, she’s too BIG,” said Alfie. “It’s a WEENSY gap. I had to SQUISH to get through.”
“Oh, Alfie, don’t say squish.”
“I know,” said Alfie. “Auntie Min didn’t like it, either. But I only squished MYSELF, Eddie. I HAD to. And I’m OKAY, see?” He did another prance.
“Keep your voice down, Alfie, I mean it.” Quickly, Eddie explained about the Grischer—her exceptional hearing, her stealthy prowling, her speed and skill with a magazine.
“Yeah, I KNOW all that. Auntie Min TOLD me.”
“Is Aunt Min okay?”
Alfie shuffled his feet. “Not really. She hardly moves, and she won’t eat. But she was glad I found that GAP, Eddie. She TOLD me to go. It was HER idea.”
Eddie nodded, not surprised.
Alfie looked around.
“WOW!” he said. “Look at all this SPACE!” He ran in a big circle under the desk. Then dashed right into the open.
“HEY!” yelled Eddie. “Get back here!”
Alfie took far too much time to obey. On his way back, he spotted the shriveled remains of the blueberry behind a cord. He beetled over and poked them with his foot. “Can we EAT this?”
Without waiting for an answer, he raced to the pad of stickies and crawled on top. “Is this where you SLEEP? What’re we going to do NOW? PLAY? I’ve been ALL COOPED UP, Eddie. Let’s DO something!”
It was time, Eddie decided, to set his little brother straight.
“Alfie,” he said in a quiet voice that he hoped would be an example, “there are three important rules here. Rule number one—keep quiet. Rule number two—keep quiet. Rule number three—”
“KEEP QUIET?”
“Right. And I know you’re not good at rules. . . .” He thought for a moment. Alfie was terrible at rules. “What did Aunt Min say to keep you quiet?”
“Oh.” Alfie looked uncomfortable. “She said . . . well, she said that if I didn’t shut up, she’d EAT ME. I think she MEANT it, Eddie.”
“Oh,” said Eddie. “Well then . . . that goes double for me, Alfie. If you don’t keep quiet, I will . . . er . . . eat you!”
He gave Alfie his fiercest, hungriest stare, hoping the threat would work. It seemed unlikely. Who’d want to eat Alfie?
He was surprised to see his brother twitch nervously. “Okay. I’ll be quiet.”
“Good,” said Eddie. “Excellent.”
What Eddie didn’t say was how glad he was to have company again—even if it was just Alfie. There’s nothing like being alone for a few days, with no one to talk to and nothing to look at except shoes, to make you appreciate your little brother, however annoying he might be.
And so the brothers spent the day together, listening as the children came and went.
One thing they discovered quickly—Hazel’s buttons were a great success. In each visiting class, there were children proudly wearing “please save the library” buttons, and many more children who wanted one.
There was chatter about the Library Ghost, too. The Grischer tried to stop it, but she couldn’t be everywhere at once. So over the course of the day, listening to the children, Eddie and Alfie managed to piece together an interesting story.
They found out that some of Ferny Creek’s students, including Hazel, had had a busy weekend. The mysterious yellow stickies that had appeared in the Library the week before had aroused the children’s curiosity, especially about the Library Ghost. They had become so curious about Miss Cavendish, in fact, that they’d searched for people who had known her. There were plenty of those around—parents, grandparents, neighbors. The children had asked lots of questions.
And on Monday in the Library, those same children told Eddie and Alfie—without meaning to, of course, and without even knowing the bugs were there—what they had learned about Miss Cavendish.
Like the fact that she was famous for her cookies. She called them Cavendish Cookies and always arrived with a jar full, asking the children to help her out because “I made too many.” She liked birthdays, too—anybody’s, everybody’s—and thought books were the best gift of all. Also, she really did have a dog—a golden retriever named Charlotte Brontë who loved, more than anything, to be read to. Dogs were not allowed in Ferny Creek Elementary, but an exception was made for Charlotte Brontë because so many children had learned to read by having her as their audience.
And then there was the whoopee cushion. Miss Cavendish’s nephew gave it to her for her birthday, and she liked to bring it to school and hide it on the comfy couch or the story-time chair. After it made its noise, she would put it away again till everyone forgot about it. She brought it out only once or twice a year, but there were plenty of adults in Ferndale who still remembered Whoopee Cushion Day.
“What’s a WHOOPEE CUSHION?” asked Alfie.
“Shh,” said Eddie.
The bugs also learned that occasionally Miss Cavendish would read to herself in some corner of the Library and entirely forget where she was. Children would give a gentle poke to rouse her. She called it her “reading trance.”
Eddie grinned when he heard this. That was exactly what happened to him—a reading trance. He just hadn’t known what to call it.
Eddie loved the stories about the Library Ghost, but the whole time he was listening, all he could think about was Aunt Min.
Could she hear the stories? Eddie hoped so.
And when the stranger came into the Library at the end of the day, Eddie hoped that Aunt Min could hear her too.
The stranger was a complete surprise.
Her name was Adelaide Glossup, and she knew more about the Library Ghost than anyone else in Ferndale.