A Ghost in the Attic Read online

  Moose stopped halfway through the group of kids and tightened his lips as he looked over those who came to watch my extinction like they were finally getting an answer to how the dinosaurs disappeared. He adjusted his cap and looked as if he’d take on the entire group of kids if he had to. “Is there a problem?” Every eye looked away. “That’s what I thought.” He paused for a moment, purposely planning his next words. “Now MOVE!” His voice thundered, sending the crowd scrambling in every direction like when a drop of water falls on ants busy at work. Out of pure reaction, and let’s be honest, there was fear involved, I started to move away too. Moose’s hands found my shoulder again. “Not you, Samson,” he said with a half-smile.

  As I walked side by side with this kid who made everyone around him, me included, feel nervous and afraid, an unsettling feeling set into the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t happy about it, but if this leads me to finding out about the old Henderson house, then I’d just have to deal with it.

  Chapter Six

  The Bus Ride Home

  Moose and I hadn’t said another word to each other the rest of the school day. The kids I ate lunch with; Billy, Nick, and the others didn’t say too much to me either. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but they kept their distance from me. It looked as if by receiving a pardon from my death sentence, the others issued a sentence of their own. I sure hoped they didn’t perceive me as the same kind of person as Moose; a bully.

  I had encountered a bully before. Stan Hanson. Moose dwarfed him by a good five inches, and like Moose, people avoided Stan. Like Moose, Stan instilled fear through a simple look. Like Moose, he could pummel just about anyone he wanted to. And, like Moose, Stan had no friends. At least Stan had the lackeys that hung around him like little minions. Moose? Moose flew solo.

  I remember my mother telling me that Stan could have been the way he was because maybe he had some problems at home. Being a bully was his way to channel his anger and sadness. She said that some families have so many problems that kids get neglected or even abused. Every family was different.

  I know that my home life wasn’t always peachy. While my father was sick, my mother poured so much into trying to keep things normal. She tried to do everything she could to make sure I didn’t miss school or flag football practice. For Dad, she cared for him nearly twenty-four hours a day, every single day. After he died, everything changed for a while. My mother went into a pretty deep depression. There were days were I barely ever saw her. She’d remain holed away in her room. I spent a lot of time with friends and family, passed around like some kind of dinner plate. I was angry with her for a while. Hadn’t she known that I lost someone too? I was mad because I still needed someone to explain things to me. I was only 7 years old. Too young to try to make sense of what was happening on my own. We had spent the greater part of six months visiting hospitals, sleeping at hospitals, and eating hospital food. It was like I lost both parents. Obviously, my mother found herself again, and we went to counseling to come to terms with my dad’s death, but also to repair our relationship.

  My point of telling this is that I do remember being mad all the time and wanting to be alone during that ordeal. So, if Moose and Stan were kids who did have problems at home, I could certainly understand what they were feeling. But, I had never had the urge outright pick on or beat up someone. I never channeled my anger in that way. I guess each person is different.

  So, what problems did Moose have at home to cause him to be the way he is? Finding the answer to that certainly could explain things. I had seen something today that was different than what 99% of the school probably saw. Moose did have a softer side to him. I wasn’t sure if I’d see it again, but he said we were cool, and for now that was good enough for me.

  Like I said, the day was pretty quiet after that. Well, except for when the bell signaling the end of the day went off. Moose’s body jolted awake after a cat nap and he yelled, “Okay Mom!” The class didn’t quite know how to react to it. If they laughed too loudly, Moose might find a locker for them. Instead, most of the class just snickered and exited the classroom.

  I wasn’t sure if I should wait for Moose, but when I looked back through the sea of kids, there he was laboring through the halls the same way when I first met him at the bus stop that morning. No rush. Moving at his own pace. I swam back through the crowd like a salmon swimming upstream and finally reached him.

  “Did you have a nice nap?” I asked him nervously.

  Moose’s head looked in my direction. He clapped his cap tighter on his head as a slight smile broke across his face. “Was I snoring?” He ran his fingers through the length of his hair, embarrassed.

  I chuckled, “Not too loudly. You only blew out one of my ear drums.” We both laughed. By the looks of things, the entire school fixed their eyes on us. Even Principal Miller looked surprised. I’m guessing not many people had even seen Moose smile in a long time.

  Just then a nasally voice cut through the air, “Hey Samson, what’s so funny? Nathaniel looked up at me and was surprised to see Moose walking by my side.

  “Oh, hey Nathaniel. How’s it going?” I looked up to see if Moose had noticed him. There was no telling if he did, but the smile was gone from his face. He was back in Moose-mode. “Moose and I were just laughing at something that happened in-“

  Just then, Moose nudged my arm and whispered, “Samson...don’t.” Then he sped up his walk and moved ahead of us.

  I looked down at Nathaniel, “Listen Nathaniel, I’ll talk to you later.” I directed my attention to where Moose was and raced to catch up. “Moose wait up. C’mon.”

  Nathaniel called after me, panicked, “Was it something I said?”

  I finally caught up with Moose, “Hey. C’mon. Wait up. What happened back there? You alright?”

  “Yeah, how do you mean?”

  “Well, it was like something back there bothered you. What’s up?”

  Remaining serious, he said, “Forget about that. You can’t understand, okay? Just forget about it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not an idiot, ya know.”

  Moose grew more upset. “Listen, Samson. I told you that you and I are cool. Now just forget about it.”

  It was clear that something was wrong. But he didn’t seem angry. I couldn’t figure it out. I thought it best to just let it go. “Well, I’ll forget about it...for now.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Moose said as he got on the bus.

  The bus ride was chaotic. Moose and I sat together quietly across the aisle while a bunch of the other kids were jumping around like animals. Phyllis wasn’t happy, as she threatened a half a dozen times that she was “this close” to turning the bus around and heading back to school. Apparently, this was a threat that no one took too seriously.

  About halfway home, a familiar squeaky voice squealed from the back of the bus. There was a group of boys playing monkey-in-the-middle with Nathaniel’s glasses. “Hey, give me those back. I can’t see a thing without them.” He circled aimlessly, following anything that moved. Still, the boys, who were bigger than he was, didn’t relent.

  I hated seeing things like this and I’ve never been one to hold back. “This isn’t right,” I muttered under my breath. Moose said something as I left my seat, but I didn’t hear it. By the time I got to the back, Nathaniel was reduced to tears. “Alright. Alright. C’mon guys. The joke is over. You did what you set out to do. Give him back his glasses.”

  The boys stopped and looked me over. The bigger of the kids walked right up to me, “Says who?”

  I mulled over which snappy comeback to use. “I do. Well, me and the tooth fairy. She really wants to remind you to brush your teeth.” I waved my hand in front of my nose. The kids around us busted out laughing.

  This didn’t help the big kid’s mood. “Well, I don’t think you have the guts to make me give the glasses back. Besides, there are three of us and only one of you, new boy.” He pushed my shoulder back with his hand. “Do
you think you can take all of us?”

  I knew the odds. I chuckled obnoxiously loud, which again didn’t sit well with the biggest kid. “Probably not.” I looked over my shoulder towards Moose, who was looking on. “But I think we can.”

  Moose’s big paw pressed on the padded seat back, easily squishing it down as he stood up. The entire bus grew silent. He waited there a second peering at us from the darkness under his cap, his lip curled. Finally, he walked towards the back of the bus and stood right behind me.

  Two of the boys immediately sat down. The bigger one explained nervously, “I was…I mean we were just having a little fun. You get it, don’t you?”

  Nathaniel stood up and snatched the glasses from his hands. He wiped the fingerprints from the lenses with his shirt and put them on. He turned to nod to the boy as if to say thank you and without warning, punched the kid square in his nose— sending him sprawling to his seat.

  We watched in astonishment, which quickly turned to laughter. “Nice shot, Nathaniel,” I said patting him on the back. Moose nodded his head in agreement and returned to his seat. I turned towards Nathaniel again, “Are you okay?”

  He dried his tears on his shirt and nodded his head, feeling good that he had the opportunity to stand up for himself. He looked down at his aching hand and whispered, “I’ve never hit anyone before.” He paused, “I think I liked it.”

  The bus slowly pulled up to the bus stop. Nathaniel and I waited as Moose took his time getting off. Nathaniel looked like he had something on his mind but was having trouble getting it out. Finally, he spoke, “Hey guys. No one has ever stood up for me before. Thanks a lot.” Tears started to well again in his eyes. “I know this is stretching it a little, but do you think we could hang out once in a while?”

  Moose stared down at him, emotionless. I looked up at Moose and then back at Nathaniel. “I don’t think those guys will be messing with you anymore. And, yes,” I said.

  “Yes, what?” Nathaniel asked getting his composure back.

  “Yes, we can hang out sometime.”

  Nathaniel eyes widened even more through those thick lenses. “Really? That would be great!” He squealed throwing one fist into the air. Then, the same station wagon that dropped Nathaniel off in the morning pulled up. “That’s my mom. I better get going. See you guys tomorrow.” He extended the arm to his backpack, ran off, and jumped into the car.

  I stood for a moment watching. “You’re a nice kid,” Moose complimented, to my surprise.

  “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself, when you aren’t scaring the life out of everyone.”

  Moose cracked a smile. We walked together quietly. It was clear he still had a lot on his mind. I couldn’t help to think about if his home life was really that bad. We stopped in front of my house. I couldn’t help releasing a little sarcasm, “Well, here we are – the old Henderson home. You know, where strange things happen.” I waved my arms in the air and curled my fingers back and forth like I was performing a magic trick.

  Moose didn’t smile. He stood for what felt like the longest few seconds of my life looking over my home. Etched in his face a seriousness loomed even though I couldn’t see his eyes. His jaw locked. “Moose? Hello, Earth to Moose.”

  Without breaking his glare, he uttered, “Listen. What are you doing in a little bit?”

  “Nothing really. I promised my mom I’d start unpacking the boxes in my room. Why?”

  Moose swallowed hard, his gaze still fixed, “I need you to come over and,” he paused now looking at the top of my house, “help me with a few things, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. That beats unpacking boxes any day. Where do you live?”

  Suddenly, a deep growl came from behind us. Spike. He was angrier than before. His head hung low and the hair on his neck stood up like so many needles. His focus? Moose. He backed up a few steps which only triggered a fit of barking. I had to do something. I tried to whistle at him to distract him. At first, it didn’t work. But then, suddenly, as if seeing me for the first time, Spike stopped barking and sat down, separating Moose and me. I reached out my hand and waited to feel his tongue. After, I patted him on the head.

  “You sure have a way with animals,” Moose spoke in a hushed tone. “You still want to come over?”

  “Sure,” I said scratching Spike behind his ears. “Where do you live?” Moose loosened his stance a bit and started to walk towards me which only triggered Spike again and sent Moose running. I yelled after him, “Where do you live!?”

  Moose’s large body surprisingly moved with ease. “Right next door!” He shouted back.

  I stood there in awe, watching as Moose unlocked the side door and darted inside. Well, it felt fitting that the mystery that is Moose Oleadertag should live in the only house on the block that was a mystery itself in its appearance. There was so much that I felt needed explaining about both. I looked over his yard and wondered about Moose’s story even more.

  Spike relaxed once Moose was gone. He really did seem like a nice dog, but something about Moose really bothered him. “He’s really not that bad, huh, boy?” With Spike at my heels, he followed me up the wooden porch steps that led to the wrap-around deck. I commanded him to stay outside, and he listened. I rewarded him with some leftover takeout from the kitchen. I wondered if my mother would let me keep him since I made the sacrifice of moving from Akron, right? It was the perfect angle to use to persuade her that I needed a companion.

  Chapter Seven

  Mr. Henderson and Nanuk

  I changed out of my “school” clothes and into clothes I could hang out in. I threw my t-shirt on as I walked over to window that overlooked Moose’s yard. Words couldn’t adequately describe the condition it was in. The trees, the bushes, and the ivy grew out of control and covered the house so much so that the color of the paint was barely recognizable. Only pale sunlight reflected off covered windows. It was an odd sight to see, but perhaps was just a piece of the puzzle that was Norman “Moose” Oleadertag.

  I bounded down the stairs. I barely had my other shoe on when I looked over the den. Boxes upon boxes were carefully labeled. Fragile – Mom’s Things. Books – Office. Scott’s stuff. I did promise Mom I’d help her unpack. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I went next door, especially after our conversation about going out and making friends. I imagined her reaction upon meeting Moose and chuckled to myself.

  I walked into the kitchen and scribbled a note on some loose paper that was left over from Mom’s frantic organizing of her camera bag.

  Hi Mom,

  I met a friend, and I’ll be over there. He lives right next door, so I figured it would be okay. I’ll explain later. Sorry about the boxes. If you get home before I do, just holler.

  Love, Sam

  Leaving the note on the table, I bolted for the front door and nearly forgot about Spike as I tripped over him. “Sorry, boy.” I thought I should mention something about him, but I didn’t have time. Moose was expecting me. “C’mon boy,” I called after the dog. He bounded down the stairs like a pup.

  Sitting on the steps outside his side door, Moose waited for me. Watching me come from behind the unruly bushes that divided our houses, he demanded, “Leave Spike there.”

  “Why?” Spike looked at Moose and dropped his head once again while his tail dropped too. A deep growl built inside of him. “Easy, Spike,” I commanded. I understood why Moose didn’t want him to join us. I walked him to our side gate, opened it up for him, and led him in. I commanded him to stay and he did, all the while looking up at me with sad eyes. I walked toward Moose, “Boy, oh boy, old Spike really doesn’t like you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t care much for him either. Follow me.” Moose was definitely in a very serious mood.

  Leading me through the jungle that was his backyard, the foliage swallowed us. Surprisingly, Moose was very agile, moving through with ease while I struggled to find even footing as I was ducking under branches and spider webs. Several large trees, willows a
nd birches, carved a path through the yard with their large trunks and sweeping branches. The roots of the trees jutted up through the ground like so many baseball bats. Moose looked back at me, “It gets a little rough up here. Watch your step.”

  I looked at the back of his head feeling a little insulted. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” No sooner had the words spilled out of my mouth a large branch swung at my face. WHACK! I let out a cry and as I began to tumble toward the ground, two strong arms grabbed me. It was Moose. But how? He was a good ten steps in front of me. How had he gotten there so quickly?

  “You were saying?” Moose’s sarcasm was understood loud and clear. “I told you to watch your step.” He righted me and turned to lead the way again. I kept quiet, this time really watching out. We walked through a windy path; Moose still moving at a quick pace, with me still trying to keep up.

  Moose finally stopped. “We’re here.”

  “Where?”

  He lifted his large hand and pointed up the largest tree in the backyard. I looked hard to see what was up there and finally, it came into focus. A treehouse. It was as high as the second story window of my home. It’s probably a good time to confess that I have issues with heights. I don’t like them and for some reason, they don’t like me because every time I am confronted with them, I want to throw up.

  “Are you ready to climb?” Moose asked, I looked at him, ready to come up with some kind of excuse, not really wanting to admit my phobia.

  “All the way up there? You couldn’t install an elevator or something,” I laughed nervously. “Okay, let me just tie my shoe.” I bent over. My shoelace was just fine, but I needed to build my nerve. I spoke out loud to convince myself that it was going to be okay. When I stood up, I was alone. Moose was nowhere to be found. I looked around the trunk, but he wasn’t there. The wind started to blow through the trees, and it felt as if the branches that hung low started to creep down on me. I spun around nervously. “Moose!?” I called out but the only sound I heard was the whistling through the trees and the sounds of the birds mocking my panic. “C’mon Moose. This isn’t funny. I’m kinda freaked out over here.” Still no answer. The birds sounded closer and some even flew past my head, so I could feel the wake of their wings in my hair. “MOOSE!” I shouted this time not worrying about hiding my panic.