Ann Martin - Mallory And The Mystery Diary

"Where do you hold a seance?" asked Dawn.

"We should hold ours in the attic," replied Stacey promptly. "That's where we found the

trunk. And it seems like a good place for ghosts."

"A little too good/' said Mary Anne. "I'm not going up into your attic to try to contact dead people. I've got goose bumps just thinking about it."

"I don't think that would work anyway," I spoke up. "I've seen lots of seances on TV, and everyone is always sitting around a table holding hands. You don't have a big table in your attic, do you, Stace?"

"Nope," she replied. "Not even room for one. If we really need to use a table, it'll have to be the kitchen table or the dining room table. Probably the dining room table. It's bigger. Seven people would be squished around the kitchen table."

We were just heading into the dining room when the doorbell rang.

"That must be Kristy!" cried Stacey.

The six of us dashed to the McGills' front door.

When we opened it, we gasped.

On the doorstep stood a gypsy.

Well, it was Kristy, but she looked like a gypsy. She'd put on false eyelashes and bright red lipstick, and on her cheeks were big

blotches of rouge. Her clothes were amazing. She was wearing a baggy peasant blouse; a long, flowing skirt with gaudy flowers printed on it; and tons of jewelry — beads around her neck and bangles up each arm. On her head was a turban.

Kristy entered the front hall, her jewelry clanking as she walked.

"Oh, my lord," said Claud, her voice rising. "Where did you get all that stuff?"

"The makeup is Nannie's. The rest I found in our attic. Well, Karen did. She was looking for dress-up clothes, and boy, did she ever find them."

Stacey shook her head. Then she ushered the BSC members into her dining room. "Okay," she said. "Let's begin."

"Where's the food?" asked Kristy.

"Kristy!" I exclaimed. "The food is for afterward. A seance is serious. We can't be eating potato chips and trying to contact Sophie at the same time."

"Okay, okay," said Kristy. "And by the way, my name is Madame Kristin."

"Yes, Madame Kristin," said Claudia, bowing.

"All right, everybody. Gather around the

table. We have to hold hands, close our eyes, and concentrate really hard," I said.

"On what?" asked Claudia.

"On Sophie! What else? We have to think, Sophie, Sophie, join us in our world. And Kristy, I mean, Madame Kristin, you have to say that out loud — and do whatever else you do to contact spirits."

"What else is that?"

"You're the channeler. I thought you knew."

"You're the seance expert. I thought you knew."

"I'm not a seance expert. I've just seen some seances on TV."

"Hey, hey, you guys," said Mary Anne, who likes to avoid a fight if at all possible. "Kristy, why don't you just improvise?"

"Okay," agreed Kristy, rattling her bracelets. "And it's Madame Kristin."

The seven of us sat down at the dining room table. But right away, I jumped up again.

"What's wrong?" asked Jessi.

"Atmosphere," I replied. "We forgot atmosphere. We can't hold a seance with sunshine pouring through the windows."

I got up and pulled the curtains across the dining room windows. Then I closed the doors

to the dining room. We were in semidarkness.

"Stacey? Do you have any candles around?" I asked.

"Sure." Stacey found three fat, short candles in holders. She set them in the middle of the table and lit them with a long fireplace match. Candlelight danced on the walls.

"Ooh, spooky," said Jessi.

"Do we have enough atmosphere now?" asked Madame Kristin.

"I think so," I replied.

Stacey and I returned to our seats.

"Now, everybody hold hands," I instructed. "Think about Sophie or Jared. Call them to our world — silently. Except for you, Madame Kristin. You speak out loud."

"I know, I know," she said.

I was sitting between Jessi and Mary Anne. Jessi's hand was shaking. Mary Anne's was clammy. I hoped they would calm down.

Sophie, I said to myself, if you can hear my thoughts, come meet us in our world, in the world of the living. We need to talk to you.

"Sophie," Kristy was saying in an eerie voice, "come to me. Speak through me. You — you will not be harmed. We just want to ask you some ques — " Suddenly, Kristy's voice changed. It rose and became all wavery.

"I ... am . . . heeeere," she wailed. "I am Sophie and I am heeeere."

I gasped. Then I held my breath. I didn't want to frighten Sophie away.

"Speeeeak to meeee," said Sophie.

"Sophie," I said, "this is Mallory Pike."

"I knoooow."

"You do?"

"Yes. I know everythiiiing."

"Did — did you find the painting and clear your father's name?"

"Yeeees."

"Where was the painting?" asked Dawn.

"It had never disappeared. It was hanging where it always huuuung. But Grandfather Hickmaaaan, God rest his sooooul, lost his glasses and just thought it had disap-peeeeared."

"Really?" I asked.

Madame Kristin burst out laughing. "Of course not, you goon," she said in her regular Kristy voice. "I can't get Sophie to speak through me. Are you crazy? Now let's party. I'm starved!"

So that was the end of our seance. I wasn't too mad. I think I'd known all along that we wouldn't really be able to contact Sophie. Besides, I was hungry, too!

Chapter 12.

Stacey has said that when she left New York, she didn't just leave her dad, her apartment, and one of her best friends behind. She also left behind two of her favorite baby-sitting charges — Henry and Grace Walker. So she was especially glad that Charlotte was still in Stoneybrook. And as soon as she returned, she became one of Charlotte's most frequent sitters again. Everyone — Stacey, Charlotte, Dr. and Mr. Johanssen — were pleased with the turn of events.

On that Tuesday, Stacey arrived at Charlotte's house with her Kid-Kit. Charlotte has always been a big fan of the Kid-Kits, so Stacey usually brings hers when she sits at the Johanssens'.

Charlotte answered the doorbell, excited as always to see Stacey.

"Hi!" she said. "Come on in!"

Charlotte used to be this shy, withdrawn little girl, but Stacey helped to pull her out of her shell. It wasn't easy, but she did it. Then, when Jessi and her family moved to Stoneybrook, Jessi helped Charlotte and her younger sister, Becca, to become friends.

Now Charlotte, who is an only child, is bouncy and happy and hardly minds at all

when her mother, a doctor, goes off to work at the hospital.

"Hi, Stacey!" Dr. Johanssen called as Stacey entered the house.

"Hi!" Stacey replied. She and Dr. Johanssen get along really well.

"How are you feeling these days?"

"Great. I stick to my diet and give myself the shots and I haven't been sick in ages."

"That's wonderful," Dr. Johanssen replied warmly. Then she said, "Well, I better get going. You know where the emergency numbers are. Mr. Johanssen will be home before six o'clock. So just go ahead and have fun. Oh, and if Becca wants to come over, that's fine."

"Okay," Stacey said. But as it turned out, Charlotte never even thought about Becca. And she didn't open the Kid-Kit for quite some time.

That was because as soon as Dr. Johanssen left, Stacey said, "Guess what. My friends and I are trying to solve a mystery."

"Really?" asked Charlotte, wide-eyed.

Stacey could tell she loved the idea of a real mystery, like the ones she reads about in books. Charlotte is an extremely good reader. She reads anything from The Bobbsey Twins

to books by Roald Dahl to books for older kids, like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

"Yup," Stacey said. "See, right after we moved in, Claudia and Mallory were helping me put some stuff in our attic, and while we were up there, we found an old trunk, and in the trunk, Mallory found a diary that was written in eighteen ninety-four by Sophie, a twelve-year-old girl. And she lived in my house then. Or at least, we think she did. Anyway, her mother died, and right away this portrait of her mother disappeared."