gently elbowing him away from the microphone. âThat was a fine tribute to your friend. We all know how hard it is to talk about our deepest emotions.â
Jeff looked around helplessly. There was no way he could explain what had almost happened, or how he actually felt. He stumbled to his chair, grateful for the chance to escape. Of course, now his classmates were going to be more sure than ever that Ernie had been his best friend, but he couldnât help that. The lie just kept getting bigger.
Mr. Morgensen announced that the memorial service was over, and, since this was the last day of school, he wished everyone a pleasant summer and suggested they read a book a week during vacation. Jeff listened numbly. On the last afternoon of school you were supposed to feel great, but he didnât feel anything. Ernieâs ghost was ruining his life.
The numbness lasted through the final hour in Mrs. Vogelâs homeroom. His classmates told him heâd given a good speech, but he knew they thought it was weird the way heâd stopped so suddenly. He didnât care. He didnât even wince when Mrs. Vogel walked to the classroom door with him and said she hoped heâd feel better soon.
When he reached his locker, the halls were almost empty. He opened the locker and took out his notebooks and his jacket. There was something else he ought to take home with him, but what was it? Something heâd brought to school this morning. Something important.⦠Then he knew what it was heâd forgotten. He didnât have his speech. Heâd left it, with the clipping about Margo Muggin, on the auditorium stage.
Jeff leaned against his locker. He didnât want to go back to the empty auditorium, but heâd have to do it. Ernieâs ghost had whisked the clippings from the Keppelsâ fruit cellar to the folder containing Jeffâs speech, and Jeff had carried the folder to school. Now the clipping was lying around for anyone to read. That might please Ernieâs ghost, but it wouldnât please Margo Muggin one bit. Jeff shuddered at the thought of what she might do to him if she found out. Which was worse, he wondered, an angry ghost or an angry witch?
The auditorium was at the far end of the building. Jeff skidded to a stop in front of the big curtained doors in the lobby and looked around. There was no one to see him. He opened one of the doors a few inches and slipped in sideways.
It was like stepping into a cave. All at once, the brightly lit hallway seemed miles away. He slid his hand along the wall, looking for a light switch, and almost panicked before he found one. Tiny lights flicked on above the doors and around the walls. They only made the rest of the auditorium seem darker. He could barely see the stage.
Walking down the long center aisle was just about the hardest thing Jeff had ever done. He tried to picture the auditorium the way it had been less than an hour ago, filled with people and conversation, but that only made the emptiness more scary. When heâd gone halfway, he realized that the stage curtains had been closed. If he wanted to find his speech, heâd have to go behind them to look for the podium.
No way , he thought. I canât do it . But he kept on walking. This was the only chance heâd have to find the clipping. After today, the school would be locked up for the summer. Heâd have weeks and months to worry about what might have happened to Ernieâs âevidence.â
He reached the front of the auditorium and tiptoed up the little flight of stairs on the left of the stage. The velvet curtains swayed as he made his way toward the center. Something rustled on the other side, and Jeff froze.
Itâs just a mouse , he told himself. A big mouse .
He tugged at the folds of the curtain, searching for the opening. It had to be just aboutâhere! He held the heavy folds back with one hand and leaned into the shadows to look for the
Jeff looked around helplessly. There was no way he could explain what had almost happened, or how he actually felt. He stumbled to his chair, grateful for the chance to escape. Of course, now his classmates were going to be more sure than ever that Ernie had been his best friend, but he couldnât help that. The lie just kept getting bigger.
Mr. Morgensen announced that the memorial service was over, and, since this was the last day of school, he wished everyone a pleasant summer and suggested they read a book a week during vacation. Jeff listened numbly. On the last afternoon of school you were supposed to feel great, but he didnât feel anything. Ernieâs ghost was ruining his life.
The numbness lasted through the final hour in Mrs. Vogelâs homeroom. His classmates told him heâd given a good speech, but he knew they thought it was weird the way heâd stopped so suddenly. He didnât care. He didnât even wince when Mrs. Vogel walked to the classroom door with him and said she hoped heâd feel better soon.
When he reached his locker, the halls were almost empty. He opened the locker and took out his notebooks and his jacket. There was something else he ought to take home with him, but what was it? Something heâd brought to school this morning. Something important.⦠Then he knew what it was heâd forgotten. He didnât have his speech. Heâd left it, with the clipping about Margo Muggin, on the auditorium stage.
Jeff leaned against his locker. He didnât want to go back to the empty auditorium, but heâd have to do it. Ernieâs ghost had whisked the clippings from the Keppelsâ fruit cellar to the folder containing Jeffâs speech, and Jeff had carried the folder to school. Now the clipping was lying around for anyone to read. That might please Ernieâs ghost, but it wouldnât please Margo Muggin one bit. Jeff shuddered at the thought of what she might do to him if she found out. Which was worse, he wondered, an angry ghost or an angry witch?
The auditorium was at the far end of the building. Jeff skidded to a stop in front of the big curtained doors in the lobby and looked around. There was no one to see him. He opened one of the doors a few inches and slipped in sideways.
It was like stepping into a cave. All at once, the brightly lit hallway seemed miles away. He slid his hand along the wall, looking for a light switch, and almost panicked before he found one. Tiny lights flicked on above the doors and around the walls. They only made the rest of the auditorium seem darker. He could barely see the stage.
Walking down the long center aisle was just about the hardest thing Jeff had ever done. He tried to picture the auditorium the way it had been less than an hour ago, filled with people and conversation, but that only made the emptiness more scary. When heâd gone halfway, he realized that the stage curtains had been closed. If he wanted to find his speech, heâd have to go behind them to look for the podium.
No way , he thought. I canât do it . But he kept on walking. This was the only chance heâd have to find the clipping. After today, the school would be locked up for the summer. Heâd have weeks and months to worry about what might have happened to Ernieâs âevidence.â
He reached the front of the auditorium and tiptoed up the little flight of stairs on the left of the stage. The velvet curtains swayed as he made his way toward the center. Something rustled on the other side, and Jeff froze.
Itâs just a mouse , he told himself. A big mouse .
He tugged at the folds of the curtain, searching for the opening. It had to be just aboutâhere! He held the heavy folds back with one hand and leaned into the shadows to look for the
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