Read Online The Elevator Ghost by Glen Huser - Free Book Online

wasn’t quite finished. A little later she rang old Mrs. Floss’s doorbell.
    â€œWe have three people for the séance,” Mrs. Floss said excitedly as she ushered Carolina Giddle into her apartment. “Mrs. Chan is hoping to get in touch with her grandmother, and Mr. Winkle is just here for support.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And for some of my dandelion wine.”
    The four joined hands at the card table Mrs. Floss had set up. Carolina Giddle closed her eyes. For a few minutes everything was silent except for the sounds of the old people breathing. Then Carolina Giddle nodded her head at Mrs. Floss.
    â€œYour husband says to tell you he misses you and he hopes you found someone to go square dancing with.”
    â€œOh, my.” In the dim candlelight, it was possible to see a twinkle in the old lady’s eyes. “We did love to go dancing.”
    Mrs. Chan’s grandmother only spoke very little English, so it was more difficult to pass on a message from her.
    But what surprised Carolina Giddle was a voice she hadn’t called up.
    â€œThat little house from long ago,” the voice crooned. “Where blackbirds sing and daisies grow,/Beyond the bend on the old bayou/Someone’s a waitin’ there for you.”
    Carolina Giddle had known only one person in her life who spoke in rhymes, and he had died thirty years ago. He was a dockworker with eyes the color of nutmeg. She remembered the rough feel of his hand when he held hers.
    Now she blushed as she sipped a glass of Mrs. Floss’s dandelion wine.



SIX
    Alien Ghosts
    â€œOn the top floor. It’s the closest we could get to outer space,” Benjamin Hooper breathlessly informed Carolina Giddle when she asked him where he lived. He and his sisters were coming out of the laundry room as Carolina Giddle was going in.
    â€œI’ve seen spaceships from my bedroom window. Always late at night, round about two in the morning. You know how people say they’re like saucers? They aren’t. They’re more like flying hotdogs but with rows of lights where the wiener goes. Hotdogs flying sideways. The power source is probably right in the middle which makes sense because it would be protected by the top and the bottom, and the extraterrestrials’ quarters would be there in the middle too in case there was any, like, you know, flying space debris that might…”
    Benjamin had finally run out of breath. His older sister, Lucy, set down the laundry basket she was carrying. She sighed and shook her head.
    â€œBenjamin is space crazy,” she said. “He can talk for hours about outer space…”
    â€œAnd exterterriswheels,” Emma, Benjamin’s younger sister, added.
    â€œThat’s me!” Benjamin grinned and zoomed a detergent container back and forth in his hands as if it were a planetary rover from a space shuttle. “Aliens are my primary interest. I don’t think I’ll be a regular astronaut when I grow up but more of a researcher-­detective tracking extraterrestrial incursions…”
    â€œYou must tell me more when I come up to babysit on Sunday evening.” Carolina Giddle flashed a smile at the three children.
    â€œWill you tell us a story?” Lucy asked. “We heard you always tell ghost stories.”
    â€œIf you’re sure you won’t be frightened.”
    â€œYay!” Emma did a pirouette and dropped her armload of towels.
    â€œPhooey.” Benjamin brought the soap bottle to a sudden halt. “I’d sooner hear a story about aliens.”
    Carolina Giddle hefted her laundry hamper to her other side. “We’ll have to see what settles into the storytelling air of the evening. My grandma always said you can feel a good story coming the same way you can feel a good ice cream coming when you first hear the tinkle of a Dickie Dee bell.”
    On Sunday evening, even as his parents were leaving phone