Ann Martin - Stacey And The Haunted Masquerade

"I think it’s mean that he seems to blame everything on her," Mary Anne mused. "How could one girl be responsible for a stampede?" She bit into her sandwich thoughtfully.

"You never know," said Logan, who was sitting next to her. He had already gulped down a school lunch with double helpings of everything — tacos were on the menu that day — and now he was looking hungrily at Mary Anne's sandwich. She offered him a bite, and he took a big one. "But Stacey's right. No matter what, the first thing we have to do is find the girl."

"But how?" I asked. "We don't even know her name."

"And even if we did, she wouldn't be in the yearbook," said Kristy, "because she left school in the fall."

"Whoa!" Claudia said. "Hold on a second. Hey, Kristy, remember that really cute guy back in sixth grade? The one with the curly blond hair and the eyes?" She turned to me. "It was like he had these two laser beams," she explained. "When he looked at you with those blue eyes of his, you'd just feel like fainting."

"Claudia — " Kristy began.

"What was his name?" Claudia asked, dosing her eyes as she tried to think. "Robin? Robert? Roger! That's it. Roger. Roger Casey." She sighed. "He was so cute. I was devastated when he left school because his family moved to Kansas."

"That’s all very sad, Claudia," said Kristy sarcastically. "But what on earth does it have to do with what we're talking about?"

"Oh! Right," said Claud a little dreamily. I could tell she was still thinking about those laser-beam eyes.

"Claudia, tell us," I prodded her. I knew she was onto something, but so far I didn't have a due as to what it might be. "Why are you telling us about this guy?"

"Here's the thing," said Claudia. "I had such a crush on him, and I was so sad when

he moved. My only consolation was that when the yearbook came out I'd have a picture of him, to remember him by. But when the yearbook came out, he wasn't in it, because he had left school before pictures were taken."

"So?" asked Kristy. "That’s what I was just saying. This girl wouldn't be in the yearbook." She looked confused, and a little irritated.

"Aha!" said Claudia. "But here's the kicker. I'll never forget turning to the page where Roger's picture should have been. It wasn't there. Instead, three pages later, there was a little list of all the people 'not pictured.' "

"So what are you saying?" I asked. "That Roger wasn't the only, one?" Now I was confused.

"I see!" said Logan, jumping out of his chair. "She's saying that there was a list! Of

names."

"Names of people who left school before the year was out!" Mary Anne exclaimed.

"So all we have to do — " Abby began.

"Is check that year's yearbook!" I finished. "This girl's name will be on the 'not pictured' list! Claudia, you're a genius!"

Claudia smiled. "I am," she admitted. "And I owe it all to a diet based on chocolate and chips." She cracked up. "Come on, what are we waiting for? Let’s hit the library!"

We cleaned up our table and headed back

to the yearbooks. We grabbed the one from the year of the dance. Sure enough, there was a short list of names on the last page of the eighth-grade section. "Not pictured," it read, "are Julia Berkman, Elizabeth Connor, Herbert Franks, Susan Hsia, Steven Levy., and Mark Whipple."

"Three boys and three girls," said Mary Anne. "I wonder what happened to them?"

"The question is, which one is the girl we want to know about, and what happened to her?" I asked. I stared at the names, as if I could figure out everything if I looked at them hard enough.

"It could be any one of them," said Abby. "How are we going to find out which it is?"

"We'd need for find out why each of them isn't in the yearbook," said Kristy. "Like, did she move, or was she expelled, or what?"

"But how do we find that out?" I moaned. "This is just another dead end." I was bummed out. We had come so far, and now we were stuck.

"Um, no it’s not. Not exactly," said Logan, clearing his throat nervously. "I think I know how we can find the information."

"You do?" Kristy asked him. She narrowed her eyes. "How?"

"Well," said Logan, glancing around to see if anyone else was listening, "it’s like this."

He waved us closer, and we bent our heads to listen as he whispered. "One time, Alan Gray and I were poking around in the basement — "

"Logan!" Mary Anne hissed. "We're not supposed to go down there!"

"I know," he said. "That's why I'm whispering."

"Oh. Okay, go on."

"Anyway," he continued, after shooting Mary Anne a grin, "we found this dusty old storage room, packed with ancient records." He gave us a significant look, and we looked back blankly. I thought he was talking about old Bee Gees albums.

Logan sighed. "Like, student records," he explained, a little impatiently.

"Ohhhh," I said, finally understanding. "Wow! Really?"

"So you mean we might be able to check the records on each of these three girls?" Claudia asked.

"That's exactly what I mean," said Logan.

"But we're not allowed down there," Mary Anne reminded us. "Shouldn't we just ask somebody, like Mr. Kingbridge, or one of the teachers?"

"Are you kidding?" Logan said. "If we did that, we'd never find out any answers. Nobody wants to talk about what happened at

that dance. They'd never let us look through the records."

"I'm ready to go," said Abby, standing up. Her eyes were gleaming. "Lead the way, Logan."

He checked his watch. "We don't have time now," he said. "Lunch period's nearly over. How about if we meet here right after school?"

We all agreed that we would, even Mary Anne. And later that day, less than five minutes after the last bell, we were standing outside the library door, ready to do some detective work. I'd told Jessi and Mal to come, too, and they were as excited as the rest of us.

"I've never even been in the basement," said Mal.

"That’s because you're a sixth-grader," Logan joked. "You're too young to be initiated into the deepest mysteries of SMS."

"But we can come with you now, can't we?" asked Jessi.

"You bet," said Logan, grinning. He turned to face the rest of us. "Everybody ready?"

"Ready," I replied.

"Definitely ready," said Abby, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "I want to really get to know my new school!"

"Ready, I guess," said Mary Anne hesitantly.

"I'm better than ready, I'm prepared," said Claud, holding up a bag of M&Ms. "I brought provisions, in case we end up lost down there in the deepest mysteries of SMS."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Kristy. "Lead the way, Logan." She had a determined look in her eye, but I had the feeling that even Kristy might be the tiniest bit nervous about what we were going to do.

The fact was, we were all nervous. Even Logan. Even Abby. But we tried to hide it as we followed Logan down the stairs marked "No Entry." The stairwell was dimly lit, and our footsteps echoed as we descended into the ever-darker basement. Finally, at the bottom, Logan pushed open a heavy door and waved us through.

Then the door slammed shut behind us.

"Oh, my Lord!"

"Is it locked?"

"We're trapped!"

Everybody started to panic, but Logan raised his voice above the din. "Quiet, everybody," he said. "It's not locked. I made sure of that. Don't worry, we're fine."

By the time he'd finished talking, we had calmed down — a little. I looked around and saw that we were in a dark hallway with several doors opening off of it. All the doors looked the same, but Logan led us confidently

to the third one on the right. He looked uncertain as he tried the knob, but then a grin lit up his face and he pushed the door open. "Here we are," he said.

It was a little lighter inside the room, because two small basement windows, high up in the walls, let in some sun. But it wasn't exactly what you'd call bright. There was just enough light for us to see pile upon pile of cardboard file boxes, covered with layers of dust and festooned with cobwebs.