The Smoky Corridor

61

Azalea was staring at the clock.

History class was almost over. They’d discussed Horace P. Pettimore’s grave marker to death and talked about doing a cemetery crawl in a couple of weeks. Everybody applauded when Ms. DuBois gave Azalea credit for coming up with the idea. That was neat.

Then a couple of kids read their family tree reports out loud.

It was Malik’s turn and it was cool to see how proud he was of the heroic ancestors he had discovered.

“And my great-grandfather from Alabama was one of the Tuskegee Airmen in World War II.…”

Finally, the bell rang.

Lunch was next, so everybody bolted for the door.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in the cafeteria,” Azalea said to Zack and Malik.

“Cool,” said Zack.

Azalea waited for Zack and Malik and everybody else to leave the room.

Then she closed the door. Ms. DuBois looked up from her attendance book.

“What’s wrong?”

Azalea took in a deep breath, because this was so not like her. She’d never had friends before. She’d never had to worry about them as much as she worried about her dad.

“Azalea?” Ms. DuBois prompted.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m worried about Zack.”

“Really? Whatever for?”

“Ms. DuBois.” Another deep breath. Then she just blurted it out. “This morning, Zack told me he can see dead people.”

“Really? Like that boy in the movie?”

“I guess. He called himself a ghost seer. Claims he sees spirits everywhere. He even swears he actually saw Bloody Mary yesterday when we were goofing around in front of a bathroom mirror. Nobody ever sees Bloody Mary. They just freak themselves out because it’s dark and I have a candle.”

“A ghost seer?”

“That’s what he called himself.”

“Oh, my. And he’s so young.…”

“Yeah. That was kind of my reaction, too.”

Ms. DuBois nodded. “All right. Two things. First, you are to be commended for looking out for your friends. We could all learn from your example.”

“Thanks, I guess. I sort of feel like I’m ratting him out.”

“Nonsense. You are right to be concerned. Second, that cemetery crawl you suggested …”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s do a trial run tomorrow, but with a small group. Say, you, me, Malik, and Zack. Perhaps being in the graveyard, Zack will open up more about these spirits he thinks he sees and I’ll be there to help him sort things out. They might just be figments of his imagination. His language arts instructor tells me Zack has a very vivid one.”

“Well, his stepmom writes books about talking cats who go on vacation to Paris and junk.”

“You see? Maybe he gets it from her. Anyway, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Will you tell Zack and Malik?”

Azalea nodded.

“Until then, don’t say a word about Zack’s ‘special problem’ to anyone else.” Ms. DuBois had a far-off look in her eye. “I might need to bring a colleague with me tomorrow.”

“A child psychologist or something?”

“No. Somebody else. Someone who’s quite familiar with psychics and mediums and that sort of thing.”

“Great.”

Now Azalea felt better. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I found out the coolest thing last night,” she said.

“What?”

“Well, I was working on my family tree, and my aunt Irene—that’s who we’re staying with—she tells me that she just found out from her mom that we’re all related to a woman named Mary Jane Hopkins, who’s like my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother or something. And guess what?”

“What?”

“This Mary Jane Hopkins—that’s her married name—was Horace P. Pettimore’s baby sister. So I’m related to the guy this whole school’s named after! Isn’t that awesome?”