The Ghost in the Tree House Read online

  FOR THE REAL

  MARGARET AND HENRY

  —DHB

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Penguin Young Readers Group

  An Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

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  Text copyright © 2016 by Dori Hillestad Butler. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Aurore Damant. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN 978-0-448-48940-7 (pbk)

  ISBN 978-0-448-48941-4 (hc)

  ISBN 978-0-399-53955-8 (ePub)

  Version_1

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Glossary

  SECRET CLUB

  SURPRISE!

  TO THE TREE HOUSE

  A DANGEROUS IDEA

  EXP-A-A-A-ND

  .... .., -- --- --!

  TRADING STORIES

  DON’T SCARE MARGARET

  A GOOD PLACE TO HIDE

  CAUGHT!

  expand

  When ghosts make themselves larger

  glow

  What ghosts do so humans can see them

  haunt

  Where ghosts live

  pass through

  When ghosts travel through walls, doors, and other solid objects

  shrink

  When ghosts make themselves smaller

  skizzy

  When ghosts feel sick to their stomachs

  solids

  What ghosts call humans

  spew

  Ghostly vomit

  swim

  When ghosts move freely through the air

  Transformation

  When a ghost takes a solid object and turns it into a ghostly object

  wail

  What ghosts do so humans can hear them

  Who left the TV on in here again?” Mr. Kendall grumbled as he wandered into the living room. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

  “Hey!” Little John cried as he hovered above the couch. “We were watching that!”

  “He can’t hear you,” Kaz reminded his brother.

  “Oh yeah,” Little John said.

  Kaz and Little John were ghosts. They used to live in an old abandoned schoolhouse with the rest of their ghost family. But when the schoolhouse was torn down, the family got separated. Now Kaz and Little John lived in the library with their solid friend Claire and her family.

  Claire could see ghosts when they weren’t glowing, and she could hear ghosts when they weren’t wailing. Her dad, Mr. Kendall, could not.

  Little John swam over. His whole body glowed. “We . . . were . . . watching . . . that,” he wailed loudly in Mr. Kendall’s face.

  Claire’s dad jumped. He could see and hear Little John now. “Sorry,” he said, backing away. “I . . . uh . . . forgot we were sharing our home with a bunch of ghosts.”

  “Not . . . a . . . bunch . . . of . . . ghosts,” Little John wailed. “Just . . . three.”

  Beckett was the third ghost. He wasn’t related to Kaz and Little John, but he’d been at the library way longer than they had. Beckett preferred books to TV, so he was probably downstairs reading.

  Claire’s dad turned the TV back on and started to leave.

  “You . . . can . . . watch . . . TV . . . with . . . us . . . if . . . you . . . want,” Kaz wailed. He had only learned to wail a couple of weeks ago. He still couldn’t glow.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Claire’s dad said. He couldn’t see Kaz, so he talked to the air a few feet to the right of Kaz.

  “Awww . . . come . . . on! . . . Stay . . . and . . . watch . . . with . . . us,” Little John wailed. “It’s . . . a . . . good . . . show.”

  “No. No, thank you,” Claire’s dad said as he checked his watch. “Claire will be home soon. She may even be home now. Maybe she’ll watch TV with you.” He hurried away.

  Little John’s glow went out. “Why doesn’t Claire’s dad like us?” he asked Kaz.

  “I don’t think he dislikes us,” Kaz replied.

  “He doesn’t like to be around us,” Little John said. “He always leaves whenever he knows we’re in the room.”

  Kaz had noticed that, too. “I think he feels weird around us.”

  “Why?” Little John asked.

  “Because we’re ghosts. And he’s a solid,” Kaz said.

  “So?” Little John shrugged.

  “So, we can see him, but he can’t see us. That must feel weird. Remember, he didn’t even know ghosts existed until Claire and her mom and her grandma told him about us,” Kaz said.

  When Claire’s mom and Grandma Karen were Claire’s age, they could see and hear ghosts, too—just like Claire. But they couldn’t do it anymore.

  Claire and her mom and Grandma Karen had told Claire’s dad about their unusual abilities a couple of weeks ago. It was hard for him to understand.

  “Is he scared of us?” Little John asked.

  Claire walked into the room. “Is who scared of you?” she asked, her green detective bag swinging back and forth at her side.

  “Claire! You’re home.” Kaz swam over to greet her.

  “Yup,” Claire said. She turned to Little John. “Is who scared of you?” she asked again.

  “Your dad,” Little John said. “He always leaves when he knows we’re around. I don’t think he likes us.”

  “He likes you. He . . . just isn’t used to ghosts,” Claire said. “But don’t worry, he’ll get used to you . . . eventually. In the meantime, guess what, Kaz. We’ve got a new case!”

  “We do?” Kaz said. “Tell me!”

  He and Claire had formed a detective agency a few months ago. They called themselves C & K Ghost Detectives because they solved ghostly mysteries. So far, none of those cases had involved any real ghosts. There was always another explanation for whatever was going on. But Kaz kept hoping one of these cases would lead to the rest of his missing family.

  “Well,” Claire began, “there are these girls at my school—Margaret, Kenya, and Olivia. They’re fourth-graders, too. They have a club that meets in a tree house in the woods behind their houses, but they think the tree house is haunted.”

  “Why do they think that?” Kaz asked.

  “Because some strange things have been happening,” Claire said. “Yesterday, the door slammed shut all by itself. And they heard a ghostly voice warning them to ‘Go awaaaaay!’” Claire tried to make her voice sound like a ghostly wail, but Kaz and Little John didn’t think she sounded much like a ghost.

  “Then last night,” Claire went on, “right before Margaret went to bed, she looked out her bedroom window and she saw a ghost moving around inside the tree house. She said it was sort of bluish—”

  “Like it was glowing?” Little John asked.

  “If it was a ghost, it would have to be glowing for Margaret to see it,” Kaz pointed out.

  “Not if she’s like
Claire and can see ghosts,” Little John said.

  “I don’t think she can,” Claire said. “I told the girls I had to go home and get the rest of my ghost-hunting equipment, but then I would come back and check out the tree house. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Sure,” Kaz said.

  “Me too! Me too!” Little John cried.

  Claire pulled her water bottle out of her bag, and the ghosts shrank down . . . down . . . down . . . and swam inside.

  “Mom? Dad? Grandma?” Claire called as she looped the strap of the water bottle over her shoulder and headed for the stairs. “Kaz and I have a case. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  Mom poked her head out of her office. “Okay, honey,” she said. “Have fun.”

  There were lots of kids playing outside on Margaret’s street. Claire, Kaz, and Little John passed two girls on bikes, a boy and a girl tossing a Frisbee, and a group of boys and girls playing basketball. Up ahead they saw three girls sitting in a circle on the grass in front of a brown house.

  “Those are our clients,” Claire said in a low voice. She raised her bottle so Kaz and Little John could see the girls better. “The girl with the jacket is Margaret. The girl with the curly hair is Kenya. And the girl with the braids is Olivia.”

  Kaz thought he remembered Kenya from the play Claire had been in a couple of months ago. But he didn’t think he’d ever seen Margaret or Olivia before.

  “Hi, Claire!” All three girls hopped to their feet as Claire walked over.

  Kaz saw a group of boys sitting hunched over a phone next door. A younger boy stood nearby, straining to see what they were doing.

  “Do you have your ghost-hunting stuff?” Margaret asked Claire.

  Claire held up her bag. “In here.”

  Kenya folded her arms across her chest. “I still don’t think there’s a ghost in the tree house,” she said. “It’s got to be something else.”

  “Like what?” Claire asked. She pulled a notebook and pencil out of her jacket pocket.

  “Like maybe those boys over there.” Kenya nodded toward the boys. “They’ve got a club, too. Maybe they’re trying to scare us so they can have the tree house for their club.”

  “Maybe. But I saw the ghost!” Margaret said. She turned to Claire. “It was all floaty, and it sort of bobbed up and down in front of the tree house window.”

  “What do you think, Olivia?” Claire asked the third girl as she wrote down what Margaret said. “Do you think there’s a ghost in the tree house?”

  Olivia shrugged.

  “Go away, Henry!” one of the big boys next door shouted suddenly at the younger boy.

  “Yeah, quit spying on us. You’re too little to be in our club!” said one of the other boys.

  Henry came running over to the girls. “They won’t let me join their club,” he said.

  Margaret glared at the boys. “Oh, you don’t want to be in their club, anyway,” she said, putting an arm around the younger boy. “They probably don’t do anything fun.”

  “Yes, they do.” Henry sniffed. “They hunt for treasure. They’re letting Sam be in their club if he finds the treasure. But they won’t let me. Sam is only a year older than I am.”

  “That isn’t very nice,” Margaret said, glaring at the neighbor boys.

  “Maybe I could be in your club instead,” Henry said.

  “Well . . . ,” Margaret said, glancing at the other girls.

  “Sorry,” Kenya spoke up. “We’re a girls’ club. And you’re a boy.”

  “Then you aren’t nice, either,” Henry said. He ran toward the brown house.

  Margaret sighed. “Great. Now he’ll probably tell on us.” She barely got the sentence out before the front door opened at the brown house.

  A lady with dark curly hair stepped out onto the porch. “Girls!” she called sternly. “Come here. I want to talk to you.”

  Margaret sighed. “I knew it,” she said.

  Margaret!” the lady on the porch called again. “Now!”

  “We’ll see you later, Margaret,” Kenya said as she and Olivia started to walk away.

  “No, girls. I’d like to talk to all of you,” the lady said, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Uh-oh. Is Claire in trouble?” Little John asked from inside the water bottle.

  “I don’t know,” Kaz said.

  Claire shifted the water bottle on her shoulder and followed the other girls into the brown house.

  The lady glanced curiously at Claire. “What’s your name?” she asked as she closed the front door behind them. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

  “That’s Claire, Mom,” Margaret said. “She’s here to help us catch the ghost in the tree house.”

  “I see,” Margaret’s mom said with a funny smile.

  “Why is that lady smiling?” Little John asked.

  “She probably doesn’t believe in ghosts,” Kaz told his brother. Lots of grown-up solids didn’t. It was weird.

  “We can show her ghosts are real!” Little John said. He passed through the bottle and expanded in front of Margaret’s mom.

  “No!” Kaz shouted. Before Little John could start to glow, Kaz charged through the bottle, grabbed his little brother around the waist, and swam with him behind the couch.

  “We don’t need to let them know we’re here. Or that we’re real,” Kaz said. “Let’s just listen for now.”

  “Okaaaay,” Little John said.

  The ghosts floated behind the couch.

  “You girls know how I feel about secret clubs,” Margaret’s mom said.

  Henry leaned against the doorjamb and chewed on his thumb.

  “It’s not a secret club,” Margaret told her mom. “It’s just a club.”

  “For girls,” Kenya added.

  Margaret’s mom shook her head. “We’re all friends in this neighborhood. Girls and boys can be in clubs together.”

  “Fine,” Margaret said, slumping back against the wall. “Henry, do you want to join our club?”

  Kenya’s eyebrows shot up. Olivia’s mouth dropped open.

  “No.” Henry shook his head. “I just don’t want you to say I can’t join it.” He ran across the room and charged up the stairs. He was happy now.

  The girls looked relieved.

  “Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Margaret’s mom said. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll make you girls a snack.”

  “What about the tree house?” Little John asked. “When do we get to see the ghost in the tree house?”

  “Probably after they eat their snack,” Kaz said as they followed Claire and the other girls.

  Little John groaned. “Solids are always eating. I bet they can’t even go one whole day without eating something.”

  “Little John?” came a voice from behind them. It was a man’s voice. “Kaz? Is that you?”

  Kaz, Little John, and even Claire whirled around.

  “POPS!” Kaz and Little John cried out when they saw the ghost man. They all flew into one another’s arms.

  “I thought I heard voices I recognized,” Pops said as he hugged his boys.

  “Where have you been?” Little John asked Pops.

  “Where have you been?” Pops asked. The smile disappeared from his face as he looked beyond Kaz and Little John. “Why is that solid girl standing there with her mouth open? She’s staring right at us.”

  “That’s because she can see us,” Kaz said. He swam over to Claire and floated beside her. Margaret, Kenya, and Olivia were already in the kitchen. “Pops, this is my friend Claire.”

  “Hi, Kaz’s dad,” Claire said softly. She gave a little wave.

  “Your friend?” Pops snorted. “This solid girl is your friend? And what do you mean she can see us? We’re not glowing.”

  “I
know. But she can still see us,” Kaz said.

  “She’s nice, Pops,” Little John said, joining Kaz and Claire across the room.

  Pops looked doubtful.

  Margaret came back into the living room then. “Claire?” she said. She looked where Claire was looking, but all she saw was an empty wall. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh, nothing,” Claire said. “I just . . . spaced out for a second.”

  “Well, come have a snack with us.” Margaret grabbed Claire’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a solid who could see ghosts when they weren’t glowing,” Pops muttered.

  “Claire is special,” Kaz said.

  Pops scowled. “I don’t like that you boys are making friends with solids. Your mother wouldn’t like it, either.”

  “Is Mom here?” Little John asked, looking all around.

  “Not in this house,” Pops said. “But she’s close.”

  “She is? How do you know?” Kaz asked.

  Pops reached into his pocket and pulled out three round ghostly beads.

  “Those are from Mom’s necklace!” Little John exclaimed.

  “I know,” Pops said. “I found two of them in other houses on this street. And I found the third one right here in this house. I think I’ve been following your mother from house to house. I sure wish she’d stay in one place a little longer.”

  “We’ve been following her, too,” Kaz said. He and Little John reached into their own pockets and pulled out the beads they’d found.

  Pops’s eyeballs expanded inside his head. “Where did you find those?”

  “I found mine in a purple house,” Little John said. “There were other ghosts there.”

  “Other ghosts?” Pops said.

  “Yes,” Little John replied. “They said Mom had been there, but she wasn’t there anymore. They thought maybe she went to the library, so I tried to go there, too. But it was hard because the wind kept blowing me past the library. Eventually I got in by hiding inside a library book. Mom wasn’t there. But Kaz and Cosmo were!”