Lost or Just Mislaid?

Chapter 5: Poltergeist Activity

Baffle's new room wasn't the first place Casper and Stretch checked for the source of the disruption, but it should have been. While the walls of the manor shook the lanky ghost floated still for a moment at the foot of the bed, almost in shock. Baffle had been resting on the bed but now was clearly gripped in what could only be described as some kind of seizure. Her eyes were wide open and blank, while her whole vaporous body shook and trembled.

"We gotta help her!" Casper exclaimed, flying over to her side. He had no idea what to do, but his action galvanized Stretch into action. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her upright and shaking her vigorously.

Stretch muttered a curse as this did nothing to abate the shaking, either in the girl or in the house. By now he had a bigger audience too, both Stinkie and Fatso were in attendance.

What's wrong with her?" Fatso asked nonchalantly. Stinkie was just staring in apparent horror.

Unable to think of anything else to do to snap her out of it Stretch hauled back and slapped her hard in the face.

"Uncle Stretch!" He could feel Casper's outrage burning a hole in the back of his head, but the action had done its job. With one weak jerk Baffle's trembling subsided, along with Whipstaff's. Lucidity returned to her milky eyes. Then she started screaming,

Fatso just covered his ears and squinted, but both Stinkie and Casper decided now would be the best time to help, and rushed up to crowd her.

"Are you okay?"

"What's wrong?

"Don't worry, you're safe."

Stretch squeezed his eyes shut, patience wearing thin. Thankfully, whether through reassurance, or just screaming herself out, Baffle's shouts subsided to mere gasps.

Stretch turned his head around and growled "Can it!" to the miscellany in the room.

He wrenched his head back around to the girl. "You alright?"

She nodded weakly, a bit cowed by the anger in the tall ghost's eyes.

"Good. Then can I ask what in the name of holy mackerel that was all about?"

"I… I had a nightmare."

"Musta been some nightmare Baff," Stinkie said, a look of concern crossing his face.

She nodded again. "But, I can't remember…"

Stretch, suddenly aware that he was still holding her tightly by the shoulders asked, "You think you're gonna faint on us, or have another fit?"

"No, I think I'll be okay." She rubbed her neck, and took a few deep breaths as Stretch let her go.

She looked around the room. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you all."

"we're just glad you're okay," Casper said, speaking for his uncles in disregard for their possible actual opinions.

The Trio shared a look.

"Boooys!" Stretch announced, and they went into a huddle.

"Did you guys get a load of that racket?" Stretch whispered.

"Yeah, so?" asked Fatso.

"So? So?!" Stretch's eyes widened.

"So she shouldn't have the power to do that for like a hundred years fatso!" Stinkie explained. "Poltergeistin' an' movin' stuff around like that takes a lot outta ya. You can't do it fresh outta the dirt."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Haha. But it's not like she did it on purpose, guys."

"That's the point, Fatso," Stretch said, a grin starting to form on his features, "she's gonna need a teacher. Or three."

A look of understanding dawned on Fatso.

000

It wasn't going so well.

Despite Casper's protests the Trio had sweet-talked Baffle and convinced her that what she really needed in order to forget her recent unpleasantness was a little bit of exercise and activity.

For the last hour they'd been trying to coach her into picking up objects. Just with her actual incorporeal hands for now; doing it at a distance was much harder. Unfortunately they hadn't met with much success. While she could manage to stabilize long enough to get her fingers around a solid object, she didn't have the strength to actually pick anything up, and the manor had been filled with a constant clangor of things hitting the floor.

Fatso had gotten bored with it first, and was now watching television in the other room. Stretch had kept at it out of sheer stubbornness, but it wore thin on his patience and he had left the scene in frustration, leaving only Stinkie stubbornly coaching Baffle in her attempts.

"I'm useless at this," Baffle said with a sigh.

"Nah, you'll get it," the cherubic-faced specter said encouragingly. "You just gotta, eh…" he paused trying once again to describe the process in a way that was remotely comprehensible. "Just feel your way through it; make your hands kinda heavy, ya know?"

"Not really." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Just try it one more time, yeah?" He proffered her the umbrella that they'd been using for practice.

She bit her lip. He made it look so easy. "One more time."

She reached out her pearly hand, and squeezed her eyes shit as she tried to take it from him.

'Concentrate,' she thought, 'Heavy, heavy, heavy. I can do this."

She snapped her eyes open again when she realized she could actually feel something solid staying in the palm of her hand. She was holding the umbrella.

Stinkie whistled and clapped. "See, what did I tell ya, huh? Huh? Hey guys, the girl's got it!"

They were quickly joined by the absent parties of the Trio.

"Aw, we knew you could do it!" Fatso slapped her roughly, but good naturedly on the back, and she stumbled forward, nearly losing her grip on the umbrella, but not quite.

Stretch rolled his eyes and waved his hands dismissively. "Yeah yeah, good job. She was bound to do it eventually."

"Yeah, you didn't seem to help none," Stinkie commented, sticking his tongue out obnoxiously.

"Watch where you put that thing," Stretch snapped, grabbing his tongue and pulling it forcefully.

"Mfff! Mnnf!"Stinkie flailed his arms.

The lean ghost let go and Stinkie's tongue snapped back and rolled up like a window-shade.

Baffle stared at then, once again in complete bafflement.

As Stinkie was adjusting his tongue, Fatso nudged them. "You guys are scaring her.."

Stretch squinted. "Yeah well that's what we do, ain't it?" He grinned rather proudly. "Maybe one day you'll be as good as it as we are." This last part he directed at Baffle herself.

"Can't be worse than Caaaaasper," Stinkie said.

She gave them a puzzled look, before remembering that they had mentioned scaring people earlier. Baffle wracked her brains and tried to summon up what she could remember about ghosts. It wasn't much, but scaring people did sound… right, if a little inelegant.

She nodded. "Okay. That sounds like a, uh, interesting line of work. Is it… profitable?"

The three of them shared a look.

"Well, kinda," Fatso admitted.

"It's really more about the artistry, see?" Stinkie explained.

"Oh, like performance art. That's sorta cool."

"Cool? Cool?" Stretch demanded, "Sweetheart you don't know anything about it. Yet."

This statement, or perhaps promise, was accompanied but another wicked grin. Baffle felt a bit intimidated.

"Yeah, we're going to teach you," Stinkie said, "Gotta know how to scare some fleshies."

"Unless you're Caaaasper," Fatso made a face.

"Casper doesn't scare people?" Baffle asked.

"Ha! You can say that again," Stretch laughed mockingly.

No one spoke. Baffle felt all eyes on her.

"Um, Casper doesn't scare people?"

"Not a chance."

"He couldn't scare a fly," Stikie said.

"He couldn't scare a fly," Stretch said.

"He couldn't scare a scaredy cat," Fatso said.

"He's hopeless," they intoned together.

"Well, that's kinda sad." Baffle wasn't sure she was understanding the whole conversation; but it sounded like a bad thing.

"It's pathetic," Stretch declared, "Short-sheet's a waste of vapour. Think you can do better?" He snapped his gaze to lock eyes with her bright blue orbs.

"I… can try," she said, with little confidence, "I mean, I'm sure you guys can show me how."

"Damn right we can. Me and the boys, we're the spook masters. Ain't no ghost better at scaring bone-bags than the three of us. We're The Fear front runners."

"The Chilling-champions," Stinkie added.

"We are the chaaaampions," Fatso began to sing. A quick glare from the other two shut him up. "What? I like Queen."

"Wow," Baffle was actually sort of impressed. They seemed confident in themselves if nothing else, and confidence was something she was still heavily lacking, even with her grip around the umbrella. "So, when are you going to show me?"

"Ehhhh," Stretch looked out the window, "It's still a while til the sun goes down."

"You can't go out during the day?"

"We can," Stinkie explained, "It's just not…"

"Thematically appropriate," said Fatso.

"Oh, I see." It did seem like it would be harder to scare people in broad daylight.

Stretch pursed his lips in contemplation. "Why don't you go get some rest or something, Baff. The boys and I'll take care of sorting out the evening's entertainment."

She nodded, unsure of what she was going to do with the time. Not try to sleep again, that was for sure.

She started to drift away from the Trio, who were entering another huddle. As she did, she heard Stinkie call out to her.

"You can put down the umbrella now, ya know," he teased.

She flushed with embarrassment. "Uh, right."

She kept ahold of it anyway.

000

Baffle drifted around the manor aimlessly, feeling a bit like a trespasser as she did so; even though she had an invitation, and nowhere else to go, really. She wandered through the kitchen, and through disused closets and a bedroom or two.

She really felt like an intruder when she accidentally came upon Casper, idly tossing a baseball and catching it, in what she presumed was his own room.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, starting to back away through the door.

"No, it's okay!" Casper said quickly, "Come on in." He smiled welcoming, and through sheepish, she stayed in the room. "I hope my uncles weren't too hard on you," he said with concern.

She shook her head, her mass of hair falling around her pale shoulders. "No, they were okay. Really helpful, actually. But they're uh, really loud." She smiled weakly,

"That's the Ghostly Trio for you," he sighed. "They're not very nice."

Baffle furrowed her brow, "They were nice to me.."

Casper laughed a little bitterly, "Well, I guess there's a first time for everything."

"They said they were going to take me out with them later."

"Scaring?" asked Casper suspiciously.

She nodded.

"You know you don't have to go if you don't want."

"It sounds kind of interesting, actually. And I don't want to offend them."

"Trust me, the Ghostly Trio? They're they offensive ones."

She shrugged. Maybe they were a bit obnoxious, but Casper seemed kinda pessimistic in comparison.

"Well, I have some time to kill," she said, "Is there anything to do around here?"

With the opportunity to help, Casper perked up. "Have you seen the library yet?"

She shook her head. "That sounds perfect." She smiled.

Casper skipped off his bed and grabbed her wrist. "Come on, I'll show you."

He led her down through the floors (Baffle still hadn't quite gotten used to moving through walls and ceilings, it was weird. Floating was weird too…) and into a huge room at the back of the manor. There were shelves full of books all arranged in neat rows, a couple of desks and couches to read at, and one huge bay window with a padded window seat. It was the friendliest room Baffle had seen in the house.

"There's plenty of stuff to read," Casper said. "My uncles don't come in here very often."

She nodded. "You mind if I have a look around?"

"Not at all."

Baffle drifted from shelf to shelf, inspecting the books. Because she could fly, she could reach even the ones of the top shelf, which was nice. Though she couldn't remember much, it seemed like this was not something that living people could do.

While normally many of the books would have fascinated her, she was listless and couldn't decide on one. Finally she simply arranged herself at one of the desks, which already had a book on it, sitting open and covered with dust.

Concentrating, she lifted the cover of the book, and peered at the title.

"A History of Whipstaff Manor."

To be continued…