The Cellar

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            Even though I hadn’t done anything but sit all day, I felt leaden when I started the walk home. As always, there was the heat with its damp oppressiveness, but I was also tired from figuring out where to go every period and from seeing so many unfamiliar faces everywhere. As exciting and distracting as it was to think about the ghost, the whole not-talking-to-anyone-all-day thing had definitely gotten to me.

            I pulled out my cell phone and called Sarah.

            “Hey, Julia!” She sounded out of breath. “Did you get my message?”

            “I did. Sorry I haven’t called before now. How are things? Did I miss anything good today?”

            “Not really. Kemper’s just as boring as always,” she said, referring to the headmaster at our school. “And for some reason they’re being super strict about the uniforms this year. I mean, how much difference does it really make to our education whether our shirts are tucked in or not? Anyway, what’s the school down there like? Is it awful?”

            “It’s not awful, but it’s not great. I mean, it’s so big. And they’re making me take P.E.”

            “No way. That’s ridiculous! Like you really need to wear tacky gym clothes and play volleyball with a bunch of girls who suck at it to be educated.” The disgust in her voice made me laugh, and I felt a sudden longing to climb through the phone to see her. I heard muffled voices in the background, and Sarah said, “Tim and Leila say hi.”

            “Tell them hi back.”

            “I will. Listen, I’ve gotta go. We’re heading down to the subway. Going to eat at Dahlia’s. I wish you could come with us.”

            “Me too.” We always went to Dahlia’s after school. I could picture my friends in their uniforms and the flow of noisy traffic and people around them. I could even smell the subway.

            “’kay, bye!”

            “Bye,” I said, but Sarah had already hung up. I slid the phone back in my pocket. I couldn’t expect them to stop going just because I wasn’t there. That would be silly. But it still felt like they were leaving me behind. Like another part of my life changing that I couldn’t stop.

            I pushed those thoughts away and focused instead on deciding whether I really wanted to meet up with a ghost in a dark cellar again. I thought of all those stupid characters in horror movies who, in spite of how obvious it is that they should not open that door! still did anyway and died some kind of bloody, horrible death. Apparently, I was one of those stupid characters, because I had to know what was down there. Although, there really wasn’t anything threatening about what I’d seen. It was a guy holding a lantern and wearing suspenders. Plus, when I’d spoken aloud, he’d looked as spooked as I’d felt. Maybe he didn’t even know he was a ghost.