TEN
I snap a picture of the man waiting in Johnson Square.
He’s a little older than my dad, wearing tweed pants and a short-sleeve button-down shirt, even though it’s mad hot.
He has long, graying brown hair tied in a low ponytail.
He paces back and forth in front of the water fountain, checking his watch and fidgeting with his messenger bag.
“Are you sure that’s the right guy?” Myah asks from our hiding spot on the corner, giving him a mean once-over. “He don’t look like nobody’s scientist.”
I tip up my glasses. “This is where he told us to meet him.”
Robby blows out some air. “I feel like we’re in the middle of one of those PSA videos that teach kids not to talk to strangers or they end up getting kidnapped.”
Myah shakes her head. “We’re in the middle of investigating one kidnapping already.”
I put my camera back in my bag. “He can’t kidnap all of us in broad daylight. We ready?”
Robby shrugs, and we look to Myah for the final decision.
“Hmph. All right. Hurry it up though, I don’t have much time before I have to get back to the shop.”
I cross the street, leading the way, with Robby and Myah trailing behind. Guess they don’t want to be the first kidnapped. I stop with a big smile right in front of the man.
“Hi! Are you Maverick?”
He frowns, gray eyebrows raised, all paranoid-like.
“Yeahhhh,” he says in a husky voice. “And you are?”
“We’re your noon tour.”
“What?”
“Yeah! Well, we’re really not here for a tour,” I add. “We have some questions we’re hoping you can help us with.”
He blinks, then scoffs. “Listen, kid, is this a joke? Did Harvey put you up to this? Do you know how much I charge for private tours? Four hundred bucks, up front.”
“Four hundred dollars!” Robby gasps, and I wave him away.
“Yeah,” Maverick says. “I’m not opening my mouth until I get paid.”
I sigh, digging into my bag and pulling out a wad of cash. “We have fifty-three dollars and twenty-five cents. How much time does that get us?”
Maverick eyes the crumpled bills and huffs. “You’re lucky it’s a slow week. This gets you fifteen minutes.”
He snatches the cash, counting it as he walks to a nearby bench.
“We’re here to learn how to hunt for ghosts,” I say, following Maverick.
“Like, for real,” Myah adds. “Not some kiddie stuff.”
Maverick laughs, sits on the bench, and leans back. “Who says ghosts are real?”
Robby grins at us. “I like him.”
“I bet,” I grumble.
“I thought you said this guy was a ghost scientist or whatever?” Myah snaps.
“That I am,” Maverick says. “But scientists always have to consider and test every possibility before reaching a conclusion on any theory.”
“So DO you believe in ghosts?” Robby asks him.
Maverick gives us a smug grin. “There’s a lot of reasons to believe in the unknown.”
Myah looks like her head’s about to explode. This guy is talking in riddles. Can’t believe I just wasted fifty dollars!
“Uhhh, yeah,” I say. “My bad. Sorry to waste your time. We’ll be taking back our money now and going.”
Maverick points two fingers at me. “Let me guess. You think you’ve seen a ghost or experienced something unexplainable before, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Okay. And what was going on in your life around that time?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, stumped by the question. I thought he’d ask for more details about what I saw.
Maverick smiles. “There was a study done once, finding that people are prone and susceptible to seeing ghosts typically right after a loved one dies. They’re called grief hallucinations.
Out of every ten people that say they’ve seen a ghost, seven of them had recently experienced grief of some sort.
A person’s mental state at the time of a paranormal occurrence could muddle the way that person interprets the occurrence.
Could make you think you’re seeing, hearing, or experiencing things that aren’t really there.
You hear someone whispering your name and it could be wind whistling through a cracked window.
Aftershocks from earthquakes miles away can cause vibrations, make things rattle, or cause old doors and cabinets to suddenly open on their own. ”
A lump the size of a baseball rolls up my throat, and I grip my stomach tight.
Could it have just been a tiny earthquake miles away that made our closet door open that day, and not Grandma?
Could I have been imagining this all, like Dad said?
Like everyone else has said? What if I’ve been wasting my time looking for proof of something that never really happened to begin with?
I gulp down the painful thought and fight the tears threatening to embarrass me in front of everyone.
I’m not going to cry. I’m not.
Myah’s eyes toggle from me to Maverick and back before she huffs.
“Well, I don’t know about her, but I sure seen spirits and I ain’t confuse them for some wind. We paying you to teach us how to hunt ghosts, not get a talking-to about if ghosts are real. We know they are. Everybody in this city knows it too. I thought you were legit?”
Maverick straightens. “I am.”
Myah clearly hit a nerve, questioning his street cred.
“Okay, then. Tell us what we need to know!”
I glance at Robby’s watch. We don’t have much time left. “If someone wanted to hunt ghosts on their own, where should they start?” I ask.
Maverick sighs. “First, I would interview the individual who saw the ghost. What were they doing, wearing, can they remember all the details? Also, are they suffering through grief, loss, depression? It’s important to know a person’s mental state for reasons I explained.”
Both Robby and Myah stare at me, and I gulp hard.
“Okay … then what?” I ask.
“Next, I would do thorough research of the site where the ghost was seen. Look at a blueprint of the place. What could potentially be seen as a haunting could very well be just old pipes, wind through cracks, or uneven floorboards. It’s important to study the environment.
What’s the weather like? What kind of people are around? ”
Myah nods. “Blueprints and weather. Got it. Next?”
“Then I would obtain the right equipment for a proper survey.”
Bingo! “What kind of equipment?” I ask.
“Hmmm.” Maverick reaches into his messenger bag. He begins pulling out items and laying them on the bench. Robby creeps up closer, his eyes wide.
“These are dowsing rods,” Maverick says, picking up two copper metal sticks that make an L shape with little balls at the end of each of them. “The rods will form an X when you’ve come across a spot where the spirit’s energy is strongest. You walk around with them and ask the spirit questions.”
He offers the rods to Myah. She grips them tight, grinning, as Maverick continues.
“This is a K2 EMF reader,” he says, holding a small black box in the shape of a remote control, with a dial measuring from green to yellow to red that reminds me of Dad’s audio equipment. “It responds to fluctuations and spikes in the atmosphere. The higher the read, the more likely a presence.”
Now Robby grins as he tests the reader. This type of stuff excites him.
“This is a thermal meter,” Maverick goes on, holding up another device.
“It detects temperature changes, which may signify a paranormal presence. The colder the spot, the more likely a presence is near. Of course, you have your phones to take pictures, video, and record sound. Lastly, and I have scientific data to back this up, is an Xbox Kinect.”
Maverick holds up a black device that looks like the head of WALL-E.
“Hey, I have Xbox, but I’ve never seen that before!” Robby says.
“Originally the Kinect used infrared light to create a map of a room and track movement, often represented by stick figures. But some people have claimed to see stick figures appearing on-screen when no one was there, suggesting it can detect an entity of the spiritual kind. It’s one of the reasons experts believe Xbox softly discontinued it. ”
“Whoa,” Robby mutters.
Myah sets down the rods. “Hmm. What about a Ouija board?”
“Don’t ever use that,” Maverick snaps, snatching the rods. “Ouija boards open portals you’re not ready for. Spirits can attach themselves to the board. You’ll end up taking one of them or all of them home with you. You can even end up dead.”
I reel back, terrified. Robby grips my arm. I wasn’t expecting Maverick to be so … scary?
Myah smirks at Maverick. “Sounds like you believe in ghosts, sir.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Robby huffs. “Okay, let’s settle this another way. If ghosts are real, then why don’t they come out during the day? Why are all the ghost tours only at night?”
Maverick’s eyes almost twinkle, and he nods to the fountain behind us.
“This is Johnson Square, the place of one of the most famous ghosts in all of Savannah—Little Gracie Watson. Gracie was the six-year-old daughter of a hotel manager. Gracie had free rein of the hotel that stood in this square, which has since been torn down. She was beloved and known for entertaining guests. She died tragically of pneumonia in 1889. Her distraught parents commissioned a lifelike marble statue of Gracie for her tombstone in Bonaventure Cemetery, where people leave gifts and tokens. But here, in Johnson Square, many report seeing a little blonde girl in a white dress walking up to people on benches and saying hi or running around the bushes, giggling. And she only comes out during the day or at twilight.”
A shiver runs down my back. The three of us slowly turn, scanning the square, seeing if we can spot Gracie hanging out. But the square is silent. Too silent.
“Ghosts do come out in the day,” Maverick says. “You probably walk beside them without knowing. But at night, it’s quieter, less noise pollution, and we as humans are more perceptive to our surroundings. So, if you want to hunt for ghosts, they’re more likely to be found in the night.”
Maverick collects the rest of the equipment and taps his watch.
“Time’s up. Happy hunting!”
I glance at his bag. “Hey, wait! Can we, uh, borrow this equipment from you?”
Maverick wiggles his eyebrows. “Sure. But it’ll cost you.”
I take a deep breath. “How much?”