The Phantom Hour Page 3

  Minna looked intently at Clio’s face, then smiled in understanding. “Play, please,” she said. She turned back to her toys and picked up the apatosaurus. “My baby! Where is my baby?” she said in a high voice, lifting up the bedspread so the figurine could look under the bed.

  A slight chill went up Clio’s spine as she stood up and walked into the hallway. There hadn’t been a missing baby in the game before. As she reached the bottom of the stairs and passed the clock, it let out an earsplitting bong…! Clio jumped. The chimes sounded five more times to mark the hour.

  More of the moon’s face was visible on the clock now, and the fading light from the front window revealed the details on the wood carving. There was an owl on the top, and she noticed patterns along the sides of the cabinet, too. It looked almost like leaves intermingled with letters. Clio reached out one finger to lightly trace the design. As soon as her fingertip touched the dark wood, the clock stopped ticking. She pulled her finger away. Tick. Tock. The clock started again, just like last time. Clio hurried down the hall, casting a nervous glance behind her. No clock could be that sensitive.

  Wesley waited for her in the kitchen, standing sentry by his bowl. When he saw Clio, he nudged the bowl with his nose, banging it against the raised plastic stand. “Okay, I get the message!” Clio laughed. She petted him and scooped a cup of kibble into his bowl. Tail wagging, he dived into his dish and crunched away.

  Clio pulled the two covered plates out of the refrigerator and put the first one in the microwave. Her thoughts turned back to the clock as she put down two place mats and set the table, laying the cutlery and napkins neatly at each setting. Why does it stop whenever someone touches it? She turned the question over and over in her mind as she put the water glasses on the table and walked back to the microwave to heat the second plate.

  Wait. Something wasn’t right. Clio turned and checked the table again. The knives, forks, and spoons were all missing from the place mats. So were the napkins. Had she only thought she set them out? The kitchen was empty. Wesley had finished his meal and lay curled up on the TV-room sofa. I could have sworn I set the table. She stared at the bare table and felt a cool breeze flutter through the room, even though the windows were closed. A chill traced its way up the back of her neck. She shook her head. Nope. Not gonna go there. She hurriedly reset the table with new silverware and napkins before going upstairs to get Minna.

  A few minutes later, they entered the kitchen, and Minna slid into her seat at the table. Clio placed a warm plate in front of her, and the little girl giggled. “You’re silly!”

  “What do you mean?” Clio asked, sliding her own plate onto the table.

  “You gave me two forks!” Minna pointed to the forks sitting side by side at her place. “And two knives! And two spoons!” Clio looked down at her own place setting, shocked to see two sets of cutlery. Her stomach dropped. I checked that table before I went upstairs. I know I did.

  “How did you make this?” Minna asked. She opened her paper napkin and held it up. It was cut into a chain of little girls holding hands. “Will you teach me?”

  Clio unfolded her own napkin. A string of little girls stretched across her lap. “I didn’t make this. I guess your mom must have made them as a surprise for you.”

  Minna shook her head. “My mom doesn’t do art.”

  “Oh.” Clio smoothed the napkin in her lap. “I guess she must have bought them, then.” She stood up. “You go ahead and eat before your dinner gets cold. I’ll put these away.” Her hands shook as she gathered the extra silverware, and a fork clattered under the table. Clio bent to pick it up.

  The floor below the table was scattered with snips of paper napkin.

  * * *

  Clio barely touched her food, and when dinner was finished, she settled Minna in front of a movie in the TV room. The little girl nestled against Wesley and pulled the blanket over both of them. “I’ll come watch with you as soon as I finish cleaning up our dinner,” Clio said.

  Back in the kitchen, she pulled out her phone and called Tanya.

  “What’s up?” Tanya asked.

  “I’m freaking out, and I kind of need you to lay some science on me, because otherwise I might lose it over here,” Clio said. She told Tanya what had happened with the cutlery and napkins. “So what’s going on? There has to be a logical explanation, right? One that isn’t supernatural? Please say yes.”

  “Sure. Yes.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  Tanya paused. “Well, maybe when you unfolded the napkins, all the snipped parts fell out onto the floor, and you just didn’t notice them.”

  Clio cleared the plates from the table. “I feel like we probably would have seen them drop, but maybe, I guess.… But what about the silverware?”

  “Maybe you just got distracted and didn’t notice that you had already set the table, and you set it twice. Could the silverware have been, like, camouflaged against the place mat or something?”

  Clio rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “Um, no. I would have seen them. I’m telling you I set the table, they were gone, I set the table again, and then they were back. How would that happen? What’s the logical explanation for that?”

  Tanya paused. “I know there’s a logical explanation, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we know what it is,” she said slowly.

  “Seriously?! How is that helpful?” Clio swept the scattered napkin bits into a dustpan.

  “Hey, I’m doing my best! I’m not even there to see it! Can you take pictures and send them?”

  Clio looked at the napkin snips in the trash can. “It’s too late now. I cleaned everything up.”

  “Well, if it happens again, send photos, okay? In the meantime, just try to relax and have fun.”

  “Tanya”—Clio lowered her voice slightly—“what if it’s the Night Queen? What if she’s back?”

  “The portal only opens during the full moon, and we sealed that thing; don’t worry.” Tanya sighed. “And besides, do you really think the Night Queen would bother cutting paper dolls? I’m sure everything’s fine. Call me later.”

  Clio shoved the phone back in her pocket and joined Minna in the TV room. Soon the movie had her laughing, and when the credits rolled, Clio looked down to see Minna curled up against her, eyelids heavy. “Come on, Minna Mouse,” Clio whispered, helping the drowsy girl off the couch and half carrying her up the stairs.

  Soon Minna was tucked snugly in bed. Clio slipped out of the room with a smile, but the warm, cozy feeling dissipated as she headed back down the stairs. The ticking of the clock rattled her nerves, and something rustled behind the pantry door as she passed by. “It’s nothing,” she whispered to herself, gritting her teeth. “It’s just an old house.”

  Besides, even if it’s more than that, what am I gonna do? Clio thought. Grab Minna and run out of the house screaming? Tell her parents they have to move? No way. If there was something supernatural behind what had happened in the kitchen tonight, Clio was pretty sure she didn’t want to know. It was a few forks and some napkin pieces. Maybe if she didn’t think about it too much, she could just forget it ever happened.

  Careful not to look too closely around the room, Clio switched the TV to a music channel and slid her laptop out of her backpack. She pulled up the fellowship application website and logged in.

  She never once noticed the shriveled, misshapen face that watched her through the window.

  CHAPTER

  6

  THE CREATURE FEATURES costume shop was one of Clio’s favorite places in the world. Her aunt had rented the storefront on Coffin Street, with its tiny apartment in back, just over a month ago. Tucked between a dusty antique store and an empty vacuum-repair shop, the crumbling facade was utterly unlike the vibrant, welcoming space they had created inside.

  Rich fabrics and wild costumes hung side by side with feather boas and vintage evening gowns. The glass counter sported sparkling costume jewelry interspersed with plastic vampire fangs
and fake blood capsules. Shelves of hats, wigs, and masks lined one wall, and the carved wooden bookcases along the back were stuffed with old curios and leather-bound books. Clio spent almost every day there after school.

  The bell tinkled above the door. “We have a customer, Aunt Kawanna!” Clio looked up from the homework she had spread across the counter and waved to the pale boy who slouched in carrying a bent manila folder with wrinkled papers sticking out of it. His shaggy dark hair had a bright blue streak in the front that almost matched the blue eyes behind his dark-framed glasses. He wore an unzipped gray hoodie over a faded navy Rocket Cats concert T-shirt. She recognized him from the cafeteria, but she didn’t know his name.

  Kawanna sauntered through the doorway from her office at the back of the store. Gold bangles jingled merrily on her coppery brown wrist as she patted the bun of tightly coiled dreadlocks on the top of her head. “May I help you?”

  The boy laid his folder on the counter. “I’m not sure. I hope so, though.”

  Kawanna gestured to the racks of brightly colored clothes and the shelves. “Well, even if we don’t have exactly what you need, I’m sure we can put together something that might work.” She pointed to the Godzilla-print A-line skirt she was wearing. “And if you don’t need it today, I can also do custom designs.”

  The boy smiled. “My name’s Ethan. Ethan Underwood.” He turned to Clio. “I think I’ve seen you around school.”

  Clio introduced herself and her aunt. “So what can we do for you?”

  Ethan opened the folder. “Well, my great-grandma Moina used to have a business here in town, and we were thinking about opening it up again.”

  “A family business,” Clio said. “Cool. What’s your great-grandma going to do?”

  “Oh, she died before I was born.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s just going to be me running the business.”

  “Uh-huh.” Clio drifted back over to her homework. This kid was a little strange.

  “I was wondering if you might let me put up a flyer in your window. It would really help get the word out.” He slid a few wrinkled papers aside and pulled out a small, smooth poster with elaborate artwork.

  Curious, Clio put down her pencil and craned her neck across the counter. “Is that a picture of a ghost walking a dog?”

  Ethan blushed. “Why? Is that too weird?”

  Clio pulled the poster closer. “Well, it is weird, but it’s really good. Did you draw it?”

  Ethan’s cheeks grew pinker. “Yeah.”

  Kawanna held up the poster. “You have quite a talent, Ethan. The artwork is beautiful. Does this say Snout of This World at the top?”

  “That’s the name of my business. I’m kind of a one-stop shop. I’ve been doing dog walking and petsitting for my neighbors for a few years, and I also do animal communication.”

  Clio and her aunt looked at Ethan blankly. “I’m a pet psychic,” he explained. “I’m pretty good at it. The other day I was eating breakfast, and I could sense that my dog really wanted a bite. It was like a total mind meld!”

  Clio picked up her pencil and turned back to her homework. “Doesn’t every dog want a bite of your breakfast? Isn’t that kind of what dogs do?”

  “I don’t think so. This was different. It’s like I could see a little speech bubble over her head: Sausage … I want … sausage! So I gave it to her, and guess what, she loved it!”

  “Okay, well, good luck with that,” Clio said, opening her history book. She started to read a sentence, then closed the book again. “Wait a minute. You have a ghost in your drawing. What does that have to do with dog walking?”

  Ethan slapped his hand to his forehead. “Oh, right! That’s my newest line of services. I have Great-Grandma Moina to thank for that.”

  “The dead one,” Clio offered, raising one eyebrow.

  “Be nice!” Kawanna hissed, kicking her under the counter. She carried the poster over to a colorful bulletin board near the front of the store and tacked it to one corner.

  Ethan opened his folder and took out a tattered black-and-white photograph of a young woman. She was seated in a high-backed, ornately carved chair behind a cloth-covered table with three lit candles in the middle. A book, a bell, and a wooden mallet were arranged neatly on the table in front of her. The woman wore a long string of pearls over a velvet dress, and a black lace veil draped over her hair. Her heavy, dark eyebrows were stark against her pale skin, and her light eyes were rimmed with kohl. She looked like an actress in a silent movie. On the back of the photo a date was written in old-fashioned cursive: October 29, 1928.

  “Was that your great-grandmother?” Clio asked.

  “Yeah,” Ethan said. “Well, technically I think she’s my great-great-grandmother; I kind of lose track of the greats. Anyway, she was pretty famous back in her day. She traveled all over the world as a spiritualist.”

  Clio pulled the photo closer. “What’s a spiritualist? Is that like a religious thing?”

  “No, she held séances. She was a medium.”

  Kawanna laid the photo down and turned to the bookshelves behind the counter. She pulled out an old book with an orange linen cover and opened it up. “Spiritualism was all the rage back in the 1920s. Folks would hold séances and use Ouija boards, all in the hopes of communicating with the dead.”

  Clio dropped her pencil. “Wait, so your great-great-grandmother used to talk to ghosts?”

  Ethan nodded. “And I think I’ve inherited her power.”

  Clio stared at Ethan, her mind reeling with questions. But before she could ask any, a rowdy group of college students burst through the door, all talking and laughing. “We have an epic party to plan, and we need costumes!” one of them shouted. They swarmed across the shop, pawing everything in sight.

  Clio and Kawanna hurried over. “Sorry, Ethan. I’ll be back in a minute,” Clio called behind her.

  A tall, tan guy with a mane of shaggy blond hair tapped Clio on the shoulder. “Hey, do you have any scary werewolf costumes?” he asked.

  Clio grabbed something from a rack and handed it to him. “Changing rooms are in the back.” She pointed down the hall to two brightly painted doors just past Kawanna’s locked office.

  She glanced back to the counter where she had left Ethan, but he was gone. Clio heard the jingle of the bell and caught a glimpse of a gray hoodie slipping out the front door. She stared thoughtfully after him for a moment.

  Was Ethan serious? Could he really talk to ghosts?

  CHAPTER

  7

  THE SUN WAS just beginning to set behind the trees as the four girls walked along the path toward the clearing in the woods. It was the night of the full moon. Maggie and Rebecca chatted quietly up ahead, Rebecca’s sleek ponytail bouncing along as she walked. Tanya followed behind them, taking copious notes in her lab book. “On our way to test portal and make sure seal is secure,” she mumbled to herself, her pencil scratching across the page. She glanced around her. “No sign of change in general environment.” She consulted a thermometer on the key chain attached to the zipper of her army surplus jacket. “Temperature: twelve-point-eight degrees Celsius.” She logged the number into a neatly drawn table at the top of one page.

  Clio brought up the rear, her hands shoved into the pockets of her navy peacoat. Her eyes darted to follow every rustle in the undergrowth. “Guys, do you hear something?”

  Rebecca and Maggie stopped their conversation. “Sorry, what was that, Clio?” Rebecca asked.

  “Shh!” Clio held up her hand. “I think something might be following us.” The woods were still. The girls waited.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Maggie said.

  “Well, obviously not right this second. It must have stopped because it heard us listening.”

  “What stopped?” Maggie asked irritably.

  Clio peered into the darkening brush. “I don’t know. Whatever’s following us.”

  Tanya pulled her nose out of her lab book. “Wait
, there’s something following us?”

  “I don’t know,” Clio said. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “Maybe we should spread out and search for it,” Rebecca suggested.

  “Are you kidding?” Maggie asked. “Have you paid attention to any scary movie we’ve ever watched? Spreading out is like the kiss of death! If something’s following us, we need to stick together so it can’t pick us off one by one.” She grabbed Rebecca’s hand.

  “What’s going to pick us off one by one?” Tanya asked, looking around.

  “I don’t know!” Clio shouted, exasperated. “I just heard noises in the woods, like something might be following us!”

  “Oh,” Tanya said. “Then it’s probably just a squirrel.”

  Clio frowned. “It sounded bigger than a squirrel.”

  “How big?” Maggie asked. She huddled closer to Rebecca.

  “I don’t know. Bigger. I heard rustling noises. Branches moving. Stuff like that.”

  “Maybe your aunt Kawanna got tired of waiting for us in the car and decided to come help,” Rebecca said.

  Clio checked her phone. “She would call or text first, and I haven’t heard from her. Besides, I don’t think she could even find the clearing, anyway. Just like anything else supernatural in this town, it’s basically invisible to adults.”

  “Well, I still don’t hear anything,” Rebecca said, “so let’s just get to the clearing. The full moon’s going to rise soon, and we want to make sure the portal to the Nightmare Realm is closed once and for all so the Night Queen can’t get through again.”

  “Good idea,” Tanya said. “If we miss it, we’ll have to wait almost another month to check again.”

  The girls huddled closer together, arriving at the clearing as the last red rays of sunlight dipped behind the tree line. They pulled out their flashlights. Tanya reached into her backpack and removed a few camping lanterns, which she set up around the clearing.