The Ghost in the First Row Read online

  The actress caught Jessie’s look. “I’m afraid I have a nervous stomach,” she said. “I can’t stop thinking about all the strange things that have been happening at the theater.”

  Aunt Jane looked up in surprise. “What’s been happening?”

  Fern leaned forward and whispered, “The ghosts have been acting up.”

  “This isn’t the time or the place—” Ray began.

  Fern waved that away. “They’ve been using it for years, you know. It gives me goose bumps just to think about it!”

  “What do you mean?” Benny’s big eyes were round.

  “I’m talking about the ghosts.” Fern replied. “They’ve been using the theater to perform their plays.”

  The Aldens looked at one another. They were too stunned to speak.

  “The ghosts aren’t happy about the theater opening up again,” Fern went on. “They don’t want to share it with the public.”

  “You don’t really believe that,” said Henry. “Do you, Fern?”

  “Take a look at the facts,” Fern said.

  Jessie stared at the actress. “What facts?”

  “Well, for starters, things keep disappearing.” Fern looked slowly around the table. “Then they show up in the oddest places.”

  “That’s weird,” said Benny. He was so interested in the conversation that he still hadn’t taken a bite of his hamburger.

  “Remember Lady Chadwick’s hat?” Fern turned to look at Ray. “The one with the yellow marigolds on it?”

  “I remember,” said Ray. “We found it hanging from the chandelier in the lobby.”

  “What’s a chandelier?” Benny wanted to know.

  “It’s a fancy ceiling light,” Henry explained.

  Violet giggled. She couldn’t help it—it seemed so funny. “Well, if it’s a ghost,” she said, “it’s a ghost with a sense of humor.”

  Everyone laughed—except Fern. “This isn’t a laughing matter,” she said with a frown. “The ghosts aren’t happy.”

  “Now, Fern—” Ray started to say.

  “It’s no use shaking your head, Ray. You know it’s true. And now Alice Duncan has joined the ghostly audience.”

  “What?” Aunt Jane almost choked on her lemonade.

  “What makes you say that?” Jessie asked.

  Fern leaned forward again. “One morning, we found a ball of yarn and some knitting needles on a seat in the first row.”

  Ray added, “We even found some popcorn on the floor.”

  “And as everybody knows,” Fern said, “Alice always brought her knitting and a bag of popcorn to the theater with her. It was mentioned in all the newspaper articles after she died.”

  “But Alice wanted the theater opened up to the public again,” Jessie pointed out. “Didn’t she?”

  Violet nodded. “That’s why she left her money to the town.”

  “I guess she changed her mind.” Fern suddenly pushed her plate away. “My stomach is too upset to eat. I’d better go home and lie down.”

  “Why don’t you take the morning off tomorrow, Fern,” Ray suggested. “We’ll postpone the rehearsal until after lunch.”

  “I just might take you up on that,” Fern said. “I need my beauty sleep.” With that, she said good-bye and left.

  Ray apologized for Fern’s behavior. “She can be a handful sometimes. But she really is a wonderful actress.”

  “I can understand why Fern would be upset with so many strange things happening at the theater,” said Aunt Jane. “I wonder who’s responsible for all those pranks.”

  Jessie asked, “Did you notice anyone hanging around, Ray?”

  “Only the actors and the stagehands.” The director shook his head. “Nobody else.”

  “Are you sure?” Henry looked uncertain.

  “Quite sure, Henry,” said Ray. “We don’t want anyone to see the theater until opening night.”

  Jessie had a thought. “What if somebody got in after everybody went home?”

  Ray shook his head again. “I’m the only one with a key, Jessie.”

  “Maybe they didn’t use a key,” Benny suggested.

  “I checked it out, Benny,” Ray said. “It doesn’t look like anyone broke in.”

  “Fern’s right about one thing,” said Violet. “If it’s a joke, it’s not a very funny one.”

  “No, it’s not,” Ray agreed. “It’s making everyone in the cast and crew very nervous. Nobody wants to stay late anymore. They’re all afraid of ghosts.”

  “You’ve sure got your work cut out for you, Ray,” said Aunt Jane.

  “You can say that again.” Ray nodded. “I hired some high school kids to help with the posters, but they were a no-show. I have a hunch they were scared away by the rumors of ghosts.”

  “Maybe we could lend a hand,” volunteered Henry.

  “Of course,” agreed Jessie, while Violet and Benny nodded.

  “Really?” Ray looked surprised—and pleased.

  “We’d like to help,” Violet said shyly.

  Ray looked at the Aldens’ eager faces.” Putting up posters around town is hard work,” he warned them.

  Aunt Jane laughed. “Oh, you don’t know these children, Ray. There’s nothing they like better than hard work.”

  “Well, I’d be very grateful for your help,” Ray told them. “We need all the advertising we can get. I’ve been trying to get someone from the local paper to do a write-up. But … they’re not interested unless it’ll grab the readers’ attention.”

  “Well, we’ll help for sure,” promised Benny. “When do we start?”

  Ray was all smiles. “How does first thing in the morning sound?”

  The Aldens thought it sounded just fine. After dinner, they walked over to the shed with Ray. Stepping inside, they found it overflowing with tables, chairs, trunks, and wooden boxes.

  “Alice sure had lots of stuff,” Benny said, looking around.

  “She sure did,” said Ray. “And we plan to make good use of it on stage.”

  Violet was taking a close look at an old typewriter. “Grandfather has one just like this in the attic.”

  “The keys stick and it won’t print w at all,” Ray told her. “But Alice used that old typewriter for years and years.”

  “She never used a computer?” Henry asked.

  “Never. Not even when her fingers got weaker as she got older,” said Ray. “She couldn’t peck away at the typewriter keys anymore, but she still refused to use a computer. Instead, she recorded her plays on tape and hired a college student to type them up for her.” Ray lifted the lid of a wooden box. “See? Alice’s tapes are right here.”

  “The box is almost full,” Benny noted.

  Just then, Ray spotted a book on the windowsill. Reaching for it, he began to flip through the pages. “Looks like Alice’s appointment book,” he said. “Your aunt Jane’s mentioned in here quite a bit.”

  “They were good friends,” Jessie said.

  “Alice’s last entry seems to be about shoes.” Ray read the words aloud: Shoe won’t fit. Tell P.J. to make change.

  “I guess Alice bought a pair of shoes that were too small,” Henry figured.

  “I think your aunt Jane might like this book,” said Ray. “It would be a nice keepsake.”

  “We’ll make sure she gets it,” Jessie promised.

  Ray glanced around. “Now, there’s something I can use!” He reached a bag down from a shelf. The label read: Plaster of Paris.

  “What will you use it for?” Benny wanted to know.

  “A prop for the play,” Ray said, as he poured half of the white powder into an empty container. “We need a plaster cast of a footprint.” Then he added, “That’s how Lady Chadwick proves the butler did it.”

  “You make the cast with powder?” asked Benny.

  Ray nodded. “You mix plaster of Paris with water to form a paste,” he said. “The paste hardens as it dries.”

  After helping Ray load up his pick-up truck, the Aldens
said good-bye, then headed back to the house.

  “I wish we could figure out what’s going on with the ghosts,” said Violet.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Benny said. “Right, Henry?”

  “I hope so,” said Henry. “I’m just not sure how.”

  CHAPTER 4

  In the Spotlight

  It was after midnight when Benny awoke to the sound of thunder. He slid out of bed and tiptoed across the room to shut the window. As he peered out into the rainy night, something caught his eye. Was that the beam of a flashlight sweeping back and forth across the backyard?

  Henry stirred. “Benny?” he asked sleepily. “What’s going on?”

  “Somebody’s out there,” Benny answered in a hushed voice.

  Henry came up behind him. “Your eyes must be sharper than mine,” he said. “I can’t see anybody.”

  Benny looked at his brother. “Someone just went into the shed.”

  “I doubt there’s anyone out there, Benny.”

  “But I saw something moving, Henry.”

  Henry put an arm around his brother. “It’s easy to imagine all kinds of things on a dark and stormy night.”

  Benny shivered in his pajamas. “Don’t you think—”

  “I think we should get back into our warm beds,” said Henry.

  Benny nodded. But he knew he had seen someone.

  “Ray says putting up posters is hard work,” Benny said the next morning. He was cracking eggs into a bowl. “We’ll need a big breakfast.”

  “Well, you do have a big appetite, Benny,” teased Henry, who was keeping an eye on the bacon sizzling on the stove.

  “Something sure smells good,” Aunt Jane said, as she came into the kitchen.

  “We’re making breakfast.” Jessie placed a platter of toast on the table. “We wanted to surprise you, Aunt Jane.”

  “Speaking of surprises,” said Henry, “we forgot all about Alice’s appointment book.”

  “Alice’s what?” asked Aunt Jane.

  “Ray came across Alice’s appointment book in the shed,” Jessie explained as Henry raced outside. “He thought you should have it as a keepsake.”

  Henry was back in a flash, waving the appointment book in the air. While he was removing his muddy shoes, Violet noticed something slip from the pages and flutter to the floor. She hurried to pick it up.

  “Looks like an ad torn from a newspaper,” she said.

  “Oh?” Aunt Jane raised an eyebrow. “What does it say, Violet?”

  Violet read the ad aloud: Typist available. Reasonable rates. Ask for Patty at 894-8884.

  Aunt Jane nodded. “Patty must be the college student Alice hired.”

  “To type the plays she recorded, right?” said Benny.

  “Exactly!” said Aunt Jane, surprised that Benny knew this.

  “You’re mentioned in here a lot,” Henry told his aunt, handing her the appointment book. “At least, that’s what Ray says.”

  “Alice and I often got together for a cup of tea.” Aunt Jane smiled a little. “She always had a pot of yellow marigolds on the table. Alice loved yellow marigolds, you know. She was always putting them in her plays.”

  “Lady Chadwick loves marigolds, too,” said Benny.

  “What do you mean?” Aunt Jane asked.

  “Remember the hat they found hanging from the chandelier?” said Benny. “Lady Chadwick’s hat, I mean. Fern said it had yellow marigolds on it.”

  “Hmm.” Aunt Jane was only half-listening. She was busy leafing through the appointment book.

  “Know what else, Aunt Jane?” Benny went on, as he swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “Alice got a new pair of shoes, but they didn’t fit. She wanted P.J. to take them back. Whoever that is.”

  “I thought I knew all of Alice’s friends.” Aunt Jane frowned. “I don’t recall anyone with those initials.” Putting the appointment book aside, she looked around at the children. “I guess you’ve got a busy day planned,” she added, changing the subject.

  Jessie nodded. “I can’t wait to see the inside of the theater.”

  “The whole town’s curious to see it,” Aunt Jane said. “All the seats have sold out.”

  “That’s great!” said Violet. “I knew everything would work out.”

  “The play runs all summer, Violet,” Aunt Jane reminded her. “We can’t be sure tickets will keep selling.”

  “One thing I don’t understand,” said Henry. “Even if they don’t sell a lot of tickets, why would they close the theater down? It doesn’t make sense when they just fixed it up.”

  “It costs a lot of money to produce plays,” Aunt Jane explained. “The town can’t afford to keep the theater going if tickets don’t sell.”

  Benny, who was spreading honey on his toast, looked up. “Well, tickets won’t sell if Fern quits.”

  Aunt Jane agreed. “Fern’s a wonderful actress,” she said. “It would be a disaster if she walks out on the play.”

  Violet frowned. “You don’t think that’s possible, do you, Aunt Jane?”

  “There’s no telling what Fern might do,” Aunt Jane replied. “Especially if she thinks the theater’s haunted.”

  “I wish we could do something to help,” said Violet.

  Aunt Jane smiled. “Putting posters up around town is a big help.”

  The children quickly finished breakfast, then set off for town on the bikes that Aunt Jane kept for them. When they reached the theater, Jessie noticed something different.

  “Looks like Fern got her wish,” she said, pointing to the billboard.

  The others looked up at the sign. Fern’s name now appeared above the title of the play.

  “Wow,” said Benny. “I guess Ray really wants to keep her happy.”

  After leaving their bikes behind the theater, the Aldens made their way around to the front.

  “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Ray called out, as he hurried towards them. “I was having breakfast at the diner—with a reporter from the local paper.”

  “No problem,” Henry said, as the director unlocked the theater door. “We just got here ourselves.”

  As they stepped inside, the children glanced admiringly at the fancy lobby with its red carpeting. Huge mirrors in gold frames covered the walls and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling.

  “Oooh!” cried Violet. “How beautiful!”

  “Is that where you found Lady Chadwick’s hat?” Benny pointed up at the light.

  Ray nodded. “It still baffles me how it got up there.”

  “It sure is weird,” said Jessie, as they followed the director to the far end of the lobby.

  As Ray opened the oak doors that led into the auditorium, he suddenly took a step back in surprise. “What in the world?” he cried. “Somebody’s been tampering with the lights.”

  Sure enough, a large standing spotlight was shining directly onto a seat in the first row of the theater! The Aldens could hardly believe their eyes.

  Ray clicked his tongue. “Wait here, kids. I’ll only be a minute.”

  As the director hurried backstage, Jessie said, “I wonder why the spotlight’s pointed at the first row?”

  “Let’s check it out,” Henry suggested. He headed down the aisle, the others close behind.

  At the front of the theater, Benny’s eyes widened. The others followed his gaze to where the circle of yellow light was shining on a seat in the front row—a seat that was littered with popcorn!

  “Oh!” Violet’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Alice has been here again,” Benny said in a hushed voice.

  Henry put a comforting arm around his little brother. “Anyone could’ve done this, Benny.”

  “Whoever it was,” said Jessie, “they wanted everybody to notice.”

  Violet nodded. “They shone the spotlight right on to the seat.”

  “Let’s clean this up before anybody else sees it,” Jessie suggested.

  Henry agreed. “Fern’s nervous enough already
.”

  With that, the Aldens set to work. They found a broom, swept up the popcorn, and threw it into a trash can. They were just finishing when they noticed someone standing close by. An attractive young woman with sandy-colored hair was watching them through narrowed eyes.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “And how’d you get in here?”

  The children were so surprised by the woman’s harsh tone, they were speechless. Finally, Henry recovered his voice. “We’re the Aldens,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m Henry. This is my brother, Benny and my sisters, Violet and Jessie.”

  “We’re putting posters up around town,” Jessie added.

  The young woman frowned. “The theater’s off-limits to anyone but the cast and crew.”

  “But we’re here to help,” protested Benny.

  “The last thing we need is a bunch of kids running around,” the woman said. “This isn’t a playground.”

  “That’s true,” said Jessie, who refused to be rude. “And we’ll try not to bother you.”

  “Tricia!” Ray walked over, the rolled-up posters tucked under his arm. “What are you doing here so early? Rehearsal isn’t for a few hours.”

  “I know,” said Tricia. “But I was driving by and noticed the billboard out front. What’s going on, Ray?”

  Ray shifted uncomfortably. “Listen, Tricia—”

  “No, you listen, Ray!” she cut in. “It’s bad enough my name’s not even up there, but now Fern’s name is above the title of my play?”

  “Try to understand, Tricia,” said Ray. “I’m just trying to keep Fern happy so she won’t walk out.”

  “Who cares if she walks out?” demanded Tricia. “The understudy can play the part of Lady Chadwick, can’t she?”

  Benny whispered to Henry, “What’s an—” But Henry knew the question before he asked it. “An understudy is somebody who goes on stage if an actor gets sick.”

  “Or quits,” added Jessie.

  “Fern wouldn’t even have a role if it wasn’t for me,” Tricia was saying to Ray, her hands on her hips. “First she gets a bigger dressing room, then—”

  Ray cut in. “That’s enough, Tricia.” His mouth was set in a thin, hard line. “I won’t have you questioning my decisions.”