Ghosts Don't Wear Glasses by E.S. Farber

Author:E.S. Farber [E. S. Farber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chronicle Books LLC
Published: 2015-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

“T. J., how many times do I have to tell you? There are no such things as ghosts or entities or orbs or streaks or whatever. We have to find the harpoon.”

“Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.” Roger pointed from the closed door to the open door. “Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go—”

“Come on, Rog,” I said. “We’ll be here all night.”

There was no logical reason to be nervous, but my heart started beating fast as I moved toward the closed door. I wasn’t afraid of the ghost, but I had this creepy feeling we were being watched. I remembered what Venus had said about the ghost hanging around because it was unhappy.

I turned the knob and walked into the room. There was a fireplace at one end and a bunch of furniture covered with old sheets. Dust lined the floor, thick as a carpet. Over the fireplace hung a big gold-framed painting of a whaling ship chasing a whale that had been harpooned.

“Wow!” I said, moving closer and pushing the cobwebs away. “Look at that ship!”

“Look at all that blood,” said Roger. “That whale’s a goner.”

“Please don’t talk about blood,” said T. J., looking green in the light of our flashlights.

“Hey, check out this ship in a bottle,” said Roger, shining his flashlight on a small table in the middle of the room. “Cool.”

“Look at this,” said T. J., moving over to a glass-fronted cabinet filled with scrimshaw, carvings on whalebone sailors made when they were bored at sea.

BEEP! BEEP!

It was 8:15 already. We had to hurry.

“Bingo!” said Roger, standing in front of a closet. “I think it’s our lucky day—I mean night.”

“You found a harpoon?”

Roger pulled something long, skinny, and pointy out of the closet.

“TA-DA!”

“That’s a curtain rod, Sherlock,” I said.

“There’s lots more stuff in here,” said Roger, walking deeper into the closet. “A croquet set, a trunk, a vacuum cleaner, something longish and skinnyish made of metal. Could it be a har—”

“Nope,” said T. J., coming up behind him “It’s got a reel, which means it’s a fishing pole.”

“Hey, there’s a rusty anchor,” said Roger. “And a typewriter and one of those old phones you dial and tons more stuff.”

Admiral Royce sure wasn’t a very good housekeeper. It would take a while to dig through everything.

I noticed another door in the wall opposite the fireplace. I hadn’t seen it at first because it was flush with the paneling and it had a very small knob. I turned the knob, figuring the door led to another closet. It didn’t.

I walked through it, and with a soft PHOOMPH! the door shut behind me. I shined my light around. This room was longer and L-shaped. I walked in farther. The door at the opposite end that led out to the hall was open. So I was in the room next door. For a brief second I wondered if I should tell Roger and T. J. where I was, but then my flashlight found bookcases on three walls and a fireplace on the fourth wall.

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