Backstage with a Ghost by Joan Lowery Nixon

Author:Joan Lowery Nixon [Nixon, Joan Lowery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-8275-5
Publisher: Open Road
Published: 2012-09-20T23:24:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

THE NEXT MORNING, WHEN he arrived at school, Sean met Debbie Jean. He grinned and said, “I never saw anybody run as fast as you did yesterday.”

“Yeah?” she said. “Well, don’t forget you were running right behind me!”

“You should have stuck around. We got cookies and lemonade.”

“Oh, sure,” she scoffed. “From the ghost, I suppose.”

“No, from Miss Beezly,” Sean said. “She invited us to her apartment, and she told us about Tyrone Peabody, who’s a caretaker at the theater. He’s going to meet us there after school today.”

Debbie Jean gasped. “Are you kidding?” she said. “You’re going back to the theater? Even after that awful ghost thing came after us yesterday?”

“It may not have been a real ghost, just somebody pretending to be a ghost. Investigators have to check out everything, including ghosts,” Sean bragged. “Anyhow, I don’t think he was coming after all of us. He was headed toward you. Your singing probably drove him crazy.”

Debbie Jean frowned as she thought. “That might not have been a ghost? Well, if you’re going to the theater, then I am, too,” she said.

Sean gave up and grumbled, “If you insist on coming, then bring back my flashlight.”

“I will. And I’ll bring my dad’s superspotlight, too. Whoever that was—ghost or not—we have to get rid of it. Someday I may want to star in a play at the Culbertson Theater!”

Sean imagined Debbie Jean acting on the Culbertson stage. People would be glad to pay not to come. “If you do, I’ll be in charge of the box office,” he offered, and almost doubled over laughing.

“You’re weird,” Debbie Jean said.

“Thanks.”

That afternoon, when Brian and Sam arrived at the theater, they joined Sean, Debbie Jean, and Miss Beezly. They were talking to a tall, thin white-haired man whose unhappy expression made it obvious that he didn’t like them being there.

Unconcerned, Miss Beezly smiled at Brian and Sam from under a straw hat swathed in clouds of pink veiling and introduced them to “my dear Tyrone Peabody.”

“I think we’ve met before, Mr. Peabody,” Brian said, “but I don’t remember where.”

Mr. Peabody looked startled. “I’m sure we haven’t,” he said. “You’re too young to have seen me onstage.”

“Miss Beezly tells me you’re the caretaker for the theater,” Brian said. “By any chance were you in the theater when the sandbag fell and hit Mr. Marconi’s inspector?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Mr. Peabody said. “If I’d been on hand, I would have hurried to help him. I know first aid.” He turned his attention to the others in the group. “Against my better judgment I accepted Miss Beezly’s invitation to give you a backstage tour, so let’s get started.”

“I remembered to bring my camera,” Sean whispered to Brian. “Who knows? I may get a picture of the ghost.”

“Come, come, let’s start the tour,” said Mr. Peabody as he led them into the lobby.

Inside the theater Miss Beezly sank into one of the aisle seats in the back row. “I know the backstage of the Culbertson as well as I know my own name,” she said, “so there’s no point in my taking the tour.

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