Haunted Tales by Terri Reid Page A

absently rubbing her
forehead. “Like walking into bookshelves.”
    “Exactly,” she said. “I had a ghost investigator from
Chicago tell me that I should just try to be aware of my surroundings.   Then, if I saw something out of the corner of
my eye, I should try to keep watching it that way and not quickly turn towards
it.”
    “Do ghosts want to be seen?” Clarissa asked.
    “Sometimes,” Mary said. “And sometimes
not. I think when they have a problem or need help, they want to be seen.   But sometimes they are just visiting some of
the places that were special to them when they were alive, so they are just on
a walk.”
    Clarissa giggled. “Hello, I’m just a ghost on a walk,” she
teased, lowering her voice. “Please don’t look at me.”
    Mary laughed. “Exactly,” she said, and then she lowered her
voice, too. “Hello, I’m a ghost on a walk. Can you tell me the way to the
nearest boo- tique ?”
    “Do you know where I can buy a halloweenie for lunch?” Clarissa added with a laugh.
    “Knock, knock,” Mary continued.
    “Who’s there?” Clarissa replied.
    “Boo.”
    “Boo who?” Clarissa answered, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
    “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you and make you cry,” Mary
finished.
    Bradley exhaled with relief when he heard the laughter
coming up the stairs to greet him. It was going to be a normal day in the Alden
household.   He stopped on the stairs and
checked that thought.   It was going to be
as normal as possible.
    “Good morning my beautiful ladies,” he said as he came into
the kitchen. “What’s up?”
    Clarissa hopped out of her chair, threw her arms around him
and gave him a kiss. “Hello, I’m a ghost on a walk, and I have to get ready for
school,” she announced, and then she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
    So much for normal, Bradley
thought.
    He turned to his wife. “Could you explain that?” he asked.
    “What?” she replied, looking completely befuddled.
    “Clarissa is a ghost on a walk, and she has to get ready for
school,” he repeated.
    She stopped in the process of filling a bowl of oatmeal for
Bradley and looked at the clock on the wall.   “She’s right,” she replied. “It is time for her to get ready. Good for
her.”
    Bradley took the offered bowl and shook his head. Okay, I’m going to try again.
    He sat down at the table and started pouring milk over his
oatmeal. “Mary,” he began. “I’m a little worried about Clarissa’s eyesight.
Last night she kept walking into things, but she said everything was fine.”
    Walking over to Bradley, Mary chuckled and bent over to kiss
his cheek. “She is just adorable, isn’t she?” she asked with a grin and walked
towards the stairs.
    “But, aren’t you worried?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “No,” she replied hurriedly. “I told her
no one died in this house, so it’s okay.”
    He watched her walk up the stairs, his face a study in
confusion.   Finally, he sighed, took a
deep breath and stuck his spoon in his oatmeal.   I give up.

Chapter Sixteen

 
    Mary sat back in her chair and stretched. Looking around her
desk, she could see the remains of the morning’s snacks: string cheese
wrappers, an empty yogurt carton, and, she wasn’t proud of it, a still
half-filled snack-sized bag of Oreos.   She’d been in the office for about an hour and a half, had finished her
correspondence, and was now going to start doing some research on Kristen
Banks. She typed her name into the search engine and paused. Nope. First I’m going to the bathroom, she decided, and then I’ll look for Miss
Banks .
    A few minutes later, as she returned from the bathroom
towards her desk, she was more than a little surprised to see Kristen Banks
peering into her computer screen on her desk. “Hello?” Mary asked softly. “Were
you looking for me?”
    Kristen turned, her face still
blood-stained and battered, her expression one of confusion and interest.
“What’s that?” she