Haunted: The Ghost on the Stairs by Chris Eboch

Haunted: The Ghost on the Stairs by Chris Eboch

Author:Chris Eboch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2009-07-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER

16

Over breakfast, Mom asked us what we wanted to do that day. “We could just stay around here,” I suggested. “Watch the filming.” I figured that was the best way to keep up our ghost research without attracting attention.

“Oh no,” Mom said. “If they see me, they’ll expect me to work. Let’s walk through the town. I hear it’s adorable.”

Tania and I looked at each other and shrugged. At least it was a small town. Maybe Mom would get bored soon.

We walked down the same way we had gone with Maggie. I thought about suggesting ice cream again, but figured Mom would say it was too early in the day. She’s funny that way.

“Look!” The excitement in Tania’s voice made me jump. I thought she must have seen another ghost.

I looked where she was pointing, but all I saw was another building with an old-fashioned sign. The sign read HISTORICAL SOCIETY MUSEUM.

“Let’s go in!” Tania said.

I groaned. “We’re on vacation and you want to go to a museum? Don’t you get enough history in school?”

Tania rolled her eyes. As Mom peered at the sign, Tania whispered to me, “They might know something about the ghost!”

Oh, right. She scurried to the door and I followed her.

We entered a small, dimly lit room. A woman with short, fluffy gray hair sat behind the counter on our left. A rack of brochures slumped on the right. Old photos hung on the walls.

The woman said, “Welcome. May I help you?”

Tania stepped forward and placed a hand on the counter. Old ladies always like her, and I waited to see how she’d get the info she wanted from this one.

“Hi! We’re with the TV crew at the hotel. You know, the ones doing the ghost show?”

I almost choked. I had been expecting something more subtle.

The lady just smiled. “Oh, how nice. But you look a little young. Are you actors?”

“No, our mom is a producer.” Mom introduced herself, and they chatted for a few minutes.

I pulled Tania aside. “How are we going to do this?”

“We can be interested in the ghost’s story, right? It just makes sense.” She joined Mom and the lady. “I suppose you’ve heard about the Ghost Bride. Can you tell us anything about her?”

“People have different theories about who she was, but nobody knows for sure. She’s supposed to be from the late 1800s, but even that isn’t definite.”

“What about her wedding dress?” Tania asked. “Wouldn’t that help tell when she’s from?”

The lady chuckled. “Only if you could actually see the ghost, and see what her dress looked like. People don’t always agree on what they’ve seen. They talk about ‘a lady in white,’ but actually white wasn’t a common color for wedding dresses back then. I suspect those people hear about a Ghost Bride, assume a white dress, and then see what they want to see. In any case, style can only tell you so much. This isn’t New York City. It might have taken a few years for styles to make their way west.



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