NINE
From around the corner, we watch Myah’s dad leave for lunch at noon. As soon as he’s out of sight, Robby and I run into the print shop.
“Right on time,” Myah says, sipping a soda.
“Hey … why do you work here again?” Robby asks, poking at the dust on the windowsill.
“Other than it being my dad’s store?” Myah laughs. “I, uh, kinda got in a little trouble this year. Okay, a lot of trouble.”
“What did you do?” I ask.
“I … well, it’s a long story. I’m working off my debt this summer, and I canNOT mess up or I’ll never get my phone back.”
“Heard.” Whatever she did, it must have been really bad. I haven’t seen her with a cell once.
“Anyway, we got bigger problems.” Myah grabs a newspaper off the counter. “That guy Asher was right. The city council did vote to tear the house down. And it’s happening the end of this week!”
“What?” I say, grabbing the paper out of her hand.
CITY COUNCIL APPROVES DEMOLITION
PLANS FOR CALHOUN SQUARE HOME
The article isn’t much but to sum it up: We have until Friday to prove to everyone that the Myers House is haunted. The job feels almost impossible.
“What do we do now?” Myah asks.
“Maybe we go there every night?” I suggest. “Take photos until Tim Truman’s ghost shows up again?”
“Girl, be for real,” Myah snorts. “My daddy ain’t gonna let me stalk some house in Calhoun Square every night! Plus, didn’t you say we needed more evidence? Something ghost hunters would be into?”
She’s right. We need good evidence, enough to make the city stop the demolition. I pace around the store thinking hard about all the ghost tours I’ve been on and shows I’ve watched. Most of the ghost hunters had equipment, like cameras with night vision and—Wait! That’s it!
“Sound! We need sound! Didn’t you say you heard screaming?” I ask Myah. “We go into the house and bring some sort of recording equipment. If we get a recording of ghostly screaming, that’d be enough proof.”
“You don’t mean go INTO the house, right?” Robby asks. “You mean, stand outside like you did last time.”
“Ghost hunters don’t just stand outside and gather evidence. We have to go in. It’s the only way.”
“No way,” Robby says with a scoff.
“Listen,” Myah says. “The longer we wait to find Tim Truman’s ghost, the longer it’ll take to get answers about his murder. Then the longer it will take to find Jabari.”
Robby shakes his head. “No one is gonna just let us go up into that house. What if someone spots us and calls our parents? I don’t know about y’all, but my mama can fly across town in under a minute.”
“Okay, he might have a point,” Myah concedes. “I can’t get in any more trouble. We need a distraction,” she adds. “Something to keep the attention off us and keep the adults busy.”
It’d have to be a pretty big distraction, I think. I glance around the store, my eyes landing on a wedding invitation sample pinned to a bulletin board.
“Hey, Robby, when is your mom’s gala for the historical society again?”
Robby’s back straightens. “Thursday.”
I clap my hands. “That’s perfect! Both your mom and my dad will be there.”
“You right,” Myah agrees happily. “My daddy prints the programs and stuff for it. All them rich people downtown will probably be there too. Means no one will be around to snitch.”
“We could sneak in that back door right when it’s dark,” I suggest. “One visit to the house would do it.”
Robby raises his hand. “I have something to say.”
“Oh boy,” Myah mumbles.
“Okay, Robby,” I sigh. “Let’s hear it.”
He takes a deep breath and yells, “Ghosts aren’t REAL! This is crazy!”
“What are you talking about?” Myah snaps. “Of course, ghosts are for real! And that ghost is Tim Truman.”
“Or … it’s the ghost of Elizabeth Myers,” I offer. Even though Asher seemed kinda sketchy about that. But the night of the tour, he said almost every house in Savannah has a ghost in it. It could be anybody.
“I know what I see in that photo,” Myah says.
Robby pinches the bridge of his nose like we’re giving him a headache. “And what if it’s NOT a ghost? You’re really going to risk sneaking into that house to find out?”
“I’d rather try and be sure than not try at all,” Myah shoots back.
Robby searches my face and shakes his head, mumbling, “This is nuts.”
“You said you would help,” I remind him. “So help. We need equipment. The real official kind that real ghost hunters use. Got any ideas?”
Robby huffs, then he rubs his chin, thinking. “Maybe we can borrow some from Asher.”
Myah raises an eyebrow at me. I didn’t tell Robby what Asher said last night. That would only add fuel to his “there’s no such thing as ghosts” fire.
“Nah. Let’s find someone else.”
“Someone like who?” Robby asks.
“Another ghost expert. I mean, this city should be full of them!”
“Maybe we should talk to my grandmama,” Myah says. “She knows all about them haints. She taught me everything I know.”
“Haints?” That’s what Asher called them. “Is she Gullah?”
Myah nods. “It’s what us Gullah people call ghosts and spirits.”
“I … got somebody,” Robby suggests.
We whip around to him. “You do?”
Hesitantly he pulls a printout from his pocket. “I’ve been doing some research ’cause, unlike you two, I believe in science. There’s this guy that lives right in the city. A parapsychologist.”
“A what?” Myah snaps.
“He’s a professor who studies the paranormal. I think you should talk to him.”
I read the page and smile. “Actually. That’s not a bad idea.”
I find Dad on Lena’s porch, putting together two brand-new rocking chairs.
“There’s my daughter! Been wondering where you ran off to. And stole the boy too.”
“We met up with Myah,” I say. “Her dad’s shop is right by that City Market place.”
“Ah, that’s where all the cool kids hang out. Glad you taking Robby along. He needs to get up from under his mother sometime. They don’t have a lot of family.”
Dad finishes the chair, standing up to look at his handiwork.
I push one of the chairs back to test it, and Dad grips it tight.
“Whoa, whoa! It’s bad luck to rock an empty rocking chair! Your grandma would go off if she saw you doing that. Plus, I’m not sure if I put in all the screws right.”
“Sorry,” I laugh. “Since when did you become Mr. Fix-it?”
“I know my way around a drill. At least I think this is a drill.” He chuckles. “Lena asked me to help out around the house.”
Ah. Of course. Anything for Lena.
I push the thought away and clear my throat. “Hey, Dad, can I get an advance on my allowance?”
He looks up at me with a frown. “An advance? For?”
“For … another ghost tour.”
“Harmony, you’ve already done one in Savannah. Isn’t there something else you want to do? I mean, this city is amazing and you’ve barely scratched the surface.”
“Yeah, but this tour takes you to Bonaventure Cemetery and other sights. Please! I really wanna go.”
Dad rubs the back of his head.
“I don’t know, Mony love. I’m not sure if all this spooky stuff is good for you.”
He’s never had a problem when I did my own thing in other cities. Either Lena’s gotten to him or he might actually be worried. I rest a hand on his arm and smile.
“You’re right. But I swear, it’s a wrap after this. Please? It’s my last summer of fun before we head back for school. Then you’ll never have to worry about me going on these tours again.”
Dad winces a smile. “All right. But just … keep this between us. Okay?”