Sydney Mackenzie Knocks 'Em Dead Read online

“Great,” I said. I added it up. They have hockey and pizza. I might have some free time on my hands.

  Then Johanna said, “Sometimes Nick’s dad clears the snow off the lake and we ice skate. And in the summer we do bonfires at the lake.”

  “That sounds like fun. I’ve never been ice-skating,” I said. “Do you like the movies?”

  Johanna said, “There’s a theater in Wilmington. It’s too far to walk. Mel’s mom took us to see Fangs for You. Have you seen it?”

  “Yeah, like five times.”

  “Five times?” Mel said, “I guess you love it.”

  “Makes sense that you’d like scary movies,” Johanna said. “Being in the cemetery business an’ all.”

  I nodded. You’d expect someone to love a movie they’d seen five times, except that Fangs scared the crap out of me, and I only saw it five times because it was all the rage and Leigh wanted to.

  The table fell silent as the conversation started to die an awkward death.

  “You guys have to come over and get a full tour of the graveyard,” I finally said. “Mel only saw some of the inside. There’s way more creepy stuff.”

  Johanna’s eyes lit up. “Like what?”

  I said, “Like mausoleums.”

  “Are those like crypts?” Mel asked.

  “I guess so,” I said. I made a mental note to google crypts and mausoleums.

  “I’m free today,” Johanna said.

  Mel said, “Today’s good.”

  I said, “Then today it is.”

  Just then Travis bumped into the table and helped himself to a seat. “What’s today?” He picked up Mel’s other Slim Jim, bit it, and put it back.

  Johanna said, “We’re going to Mac’s to check out the crypts.”

  He said, “I’m in.”

  Nick came up behind Travis and said, “In what?”

  “A little crypty fiesta at Casa Creepy,” Travis said.

  “What the heck does that mean?” Nick asked.

  Mel translated. “We’re going over Mac’s after school.”

  “Over Mac’s?” he asked me with raised eyebrows, as if to say, You have a nickname? I don’t have a nickname.

  I nodded. “You wanna come?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Nick held up his fist. I bumped it.

  Thank goodness I live in a cemetery.

  * chapter eleven *

  MAUSOLEUMS

  AFTER SCHOOL I WALKED UP the hill toward the Victorian. Johanna, Mel, Travis, and Nick were coming over after they dropped their school stuff off at home. I ran to my computer to check e-mail. I got one from Leigh . . . Yay!

  Hey Syd,

  Sorry it took me a few days to write back. It’s just that I text everyone. Did you get a new phone yet?

  I saw the preview for Terror on the Train starring Dylan Posencheg. I can’t wait to see it. Oh, and I got that Guess bikini we saw a few weeks ago. Anyway, write me back and tell me about life with the dead. . . . I guess that’s better than life with the undead. Hahaha! LOL

  <3, Leigh

  I wrote back.

  Hi Leigh,

  Something strange has happened here: The kids don’t think California stuff is cool. Crazy, right? Did I mention the house we live in is actually ON the cemetery? Like IN it! What’s even crazier is that the kids think the cemetery is awesome. Actually, 4 new friends are coming over today. So I’m going to act like I think it’s as exciting as they do.

  Oh, and it might be haunted.

  Ta, Dahling. Syd.

  When the girls arrived, I gave the standard disclaimer. “I have two little brothers. They’re six. They’re twins. They’re annoying.”

  “Okay,” Johanna said, but I could tell she didn’t know what I was talking about. Not many people really understood what it was like to have twin brothers. They thought they understood because maybe they had a younger brother or sister. Maybe they thought you multiplied the annoyance times two. But really it was multiplied by like five hundred.

  I added, “It’s possible they were dropped on their heads as babies. I just want you to know up front that I don’t think I’m actually related to them.” This got a smirk of approval from Mel.

  Travis and Nick arrived a few minutes later.

  Travis examined every nook and cranny of the foyer as he walked into the Victorian. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to see inside this place.” He studied and squinted at a strange section of wall, then he knocked on it. “Hear that?” He knocked on a different section and then back on the first spot. “It’s hollow.”

  “So?” Johanna asked.

  “So . . . there could be passages behind these walls,” he said. Then he asked me, “Have you checked it out?”

  “Seriously?” I asked. “Like on Scooby-Doo?”

  Nick said, “It isn’t that unusual in big old houses.” He was serious.

  “Why would they need secret passages?” I asked.

  “To hide,” Mel said, but she said it like duh.

  Nick added, “To hide people or things. During the Civil War people hid their silver and stashes of money. They sometimes hid their teenage boys so that they wouldn’t be drafted to the war. Or people hid from the Confederate Army when they came into town.” He sounded really smart. “I guess. I’m not actually sure.” But I thought he did know, he just didn’t want to sound too smart.

  I noticed Johanna stretching her neck to see into the workroom.

  “You guys want a tour of the spooky old place?” I used my most enthusiastic voice. “Want to see a mausoleum?”

  “Heck yeah,” Travis said.

  They followed me through the house, spending extra time in the Last Chance Room.

  Travis asked, “What is the difference between a crypt and a mausoleum?”

  Johanna answered before I had a chance, “I think one has mummies and is haunted.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t think that’s the kind we have,” I said.

  “Bummer,” Nick said.

  Whoa! He wants this place to be haunted? What kind of town is this?

  Mel said, “Let’s find out.”

  “Let’s do it!” I said way more excitedly than I felt.

  I led them to the graveyard. It took effort, but I tried to walk normally among the tombstones, as if stepping on dead bodies didn’t bother me at all. Mel and Johanna followed my lead. They seemed to have no problem walking on the dead. In my head I still whispered, “Sorry, sorry, sooo sorry.”

  I explained the rows and the buried two-deep thing to them the way I would explain a new froyo flavor to Leigh. There are delicious swirls of raspberry and an incredible hint of coconut flavor that you’re gonna love. I got two cherries and these amazing cookie crunches on top. Instead what I said was something like, “One corpse is placed in a deep dark hole, about seven feet down, and covered with dirt. It might be down there for a long time, rotting, until the owner of the second spot dies. The ground is dug up again, but not as deep this time because you don’t want to disturb a rotting corpse.”

  “Why not?” Travis asked.

  “Umm. I think it’s bad luck,” I said like I was some kind of expert.

  We approached a mausoleum. An eerie wind blew clouds in front of the sun, creating a bleakness that was typical of Buttermilk River Cove.

  [Some low and frightening music plays—like a deep churchy pipe organ.]

  Mel put a hand out to touch the stones. Johanna and I did the same. They were cold and damp. Cemented to the stones was a small plaque with the names of the people inside. HANNAH DOLAN: DEVOTED MOTHER AND AUNT. HAYDEN DOLAN: LOVING WIFE. This looked like it belonged to the Dolan family, because most of the last names were Dolan, except for one. I figured they were all related somehow. I had cousins whose last names weren’t Mackenzie.

  “The Dolans are cursed,” Johanna said.

  “That’s about the most exciting thing we’ve got around here,” Mel said.

  Travis added, “And our hockey team kicks butt.”

  I asked, �
��Wasn’t that like forty-something years ago?”

  Mel looked at me like it was not okay that I suggested the hockey team’s winning streak was old news. “They’re still really good.”

  I nodded. Message received: It was okay for Mel to say Buttermilk River Cove was boring but not for me.

  I looked up and noticed small marble cherubs (baby angels) carved into the roof. Mel stood on her tiptoes to reach one but couldn’t. She reached for the door handle and pushed, but it didn’t open. She turned the handle again and shoved a hip into the door. It budged. She pushed with her whole side. I helped with both hands. The two of us slowly slid the heavy door. It made a terrible scratching against the cement floor.

  A dust blob flew out of the pitch black and landed on my face. Gross!

  Johanna was behind me. “Go on,” she nudged.

  Hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Wait,” I said.

  “What?” Mel asked, clearly annoyed.

  I needed to stall or change their minds. “Where are the boys?” Suddenly going into a cursed family’s mausoleum felt like a bad idea.

  Mel said, “Who cares?” She pressed forward and stepped over the threshold. “Probably chickened out.”

  I took a deep breath of musty air and entered too.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Johanna said. I heard her take a baby step closer to me.

  My heart raced. I begged my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but they didn’t.

  I just stood still.

  Then all of the sudden a voice behind me screamed: “BOOOO!”

  Another went: “Moooohahahahhha!

  We all screamed!

  Mel backed into me. She stepped on my foot, and I bit my tongue.

  My heart stopped beating for just a second. I ran outside, pushing Johanna in front of me. Mel was on my heels.

  Travis and Nick rolled on the cold, damp grass, laughing.

  I caught my breath. The three of us stood over them. Johanna and I had our hands on our hips; Mel’s arms were crossed in front of her chest.

  The boys didn’t stop their hooting and laughing.

  Mel kicked Travis (not too hard) right in the butt, leaving a muck mark.

  “You jerkazoids!” Johanna yelled.

  “You should’ve seen your faces,” Travis said, almost crying-laughing. “You were like, Ahhhh! I thought your hair would stand straight up on end. I wish I had a camera.”

  Once I was breathing normally, I cracked a half smile. They had gotten us good. And they looked so funny, rolling around laughing on the ground.

  “Mooohahahaa,” Nick said to Travis in between laughs, and that started them all over again.

  “Dude,” Travis said. “Stop it. You’re gonna make me pee myself.”

  Johanna said, “You guys are real morons, you know that?”

  Mel ignored them, like they were totally immature. She turned back to the small building to continue her tour.

  Just then Cork came from behind the mausoleum. “Hey! What are you kids doing?” he grouched.

  “I was just showing them around,” I explained.

  He pulled the mausoleum door shut, tight. “You shouldn’t be messing in other people’s private places.”

  Mel harrumphed.

  “Fine,” I said, as though I was equally disappointed, but inside I wanted to jump up and kiss that man. (Okay, maybe I didn’t want to actually kiss him, but I was glad he came when he did.)

  The boys got off the ground and wiped the dirt from their clothes.

  We walked together back toward the Victorian. Mel said, “That guy is totally creepy.”

  “Yup,” I agreed.

  “He looks like Godzilla with that zipper scar on his head,” Johanna said.

  “I think you mean Frankenstein,” Travis corrected. “Godzilla is a giant lizard that terrorizes Tokyo. Frankenstein is the one that was sewn together from parts of different people.”

  Elliott got to the back door just when we did. His cloak was tied around his neck. His arms were full of green holly branches.

  As we went inside, I introduced Elliott to my friends, and when he dropped the greens on the table, he reached for their hands. “Enchanté.”

  “Your hands are freezing,” Johanna complained.

  “It’s pretty cold out there,” he said.

  “I love holly. What are you going to do with it?” She touched the prickly leaves.

  “I thought I’d decorate the hearth.”

  Elliott looked at Johanna’s hand, which had a few droplets of red on it. “Oh my, is that blood?” He whipped his head in the opposite direction. “I can’t stand the sight of blood.”

  “It’s okay,” Johanna said. “Really, it’s nothing.”

  “I hate blood.” He still didn’t look at her.

  Johanna put her hand out. “Seriously, it’s just juice from one of the holly berries.”

  Elliott turned with an embarrassed laugh. He scooped up his branches and left the workroom. We went into the kitchen and sat down.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so scared of the sight of blood,” I said.

  Nick said, “You’re around scary stuff all the time, so it’s no big whoop to you. You’re used to it.”

  “I guess.” If he only knew the truth.

  “Or,” Johanna said, “maybe he’s a vampire.”

  Travis asked, “JoJo, you know vampires are make-believe?” He said “make-believe” slowly so she would understand.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “Didn’t you see Fangs for You?”

  “That’s a movie. It’s pretend,” Travis said.

  Nick whispered to Travis, “She’s kidding you.” Although I didn’t think she was, and I think Nick knew that; he just wanted Travis to leave her alone. Then Nick said, “Besides, vampires aren’t afraid of blood—they love it.”

  “But maybe,” I said to help Johanna out, “he’s a vampire who wants to live with mortals, so he controls his lust for human blood, but if he sees it, he won’t be able to, and he’ll jump on you and suck you dry.” That would make a good movie plot.

  “I know I’d like to suck some hot cocoa,” Travis said. “And I smell some.”

  I walked over to the pot on the stove and stirred it just to make sure Joyce hadn’t added any newt eyes (or any other kind of eyes or ears) when no one was around. It looked good. Actually, it looked great. I ladled out five small mugs. We sat at the table talking, me and my four new friends. They thought the cocoa was awesome. I explained it was made with buttermilk. It felt good to have everyone hanging out with me.

  That’s when it happened:

  One and Two.

  They came into the kitchen.

  Nothing good was going to come of this.

  * chapter twelve *

  POP. POP. POP.

  ONE GRABBED A COOKIE IN each hand.

  Two kicked Nick in the shins.

  “Ouch. What was that for?”

  Two said, “Just ’cause your friends with poop-head Sydney.”

  One said, “You know, she used to pretend she was rich and fancy in California just to be popular.”

  Heat engulfed my face. “What? I didn’t pretend.”

  “She seems pretty fancy to me,” Travis said.

  “She wouldn’t need to pretend,” Nick added.

  The twins started jumping up and down on one foot. Not for any reason. “Well, she did. She pretended lots of stuff, like she had a credit card when she didn’t,” One said.

  Two added, “Just to fit in.”

  “Pop. Pop. Pop,” they sang while they jumped.

  “Don’t listen to them,” I said. “I told you, annoying.”

  “Pop. Pop. Pop.”

  “Fitting in is important to some people,” Nick said.

  “Oooh,” One said, still jumping. “You like Sydney.”

  Two asked him, “What’s your name?”

  “Nick.

  “Nick likes Sydney! Nick likes Sydney!” they sang.

>   If there was any minute to climb into a mausoleum and curl into a ball and die, this was it. Mel said to them, “Why don’t you hop out of here before I pop you right in the mouth?”

  They stopped hopping and stared at her, stupefied. They slowly inched toward the door. Then, just before leaving, One snatched cookies and Two bent down, stuck out his butt, and made farting sounds with his lips. He toppled over, hitting his head on the floor. “Awww!” he yelled, and rubbed his head. “Why’d you do that?” Two asked One.

  “Do what?”

  “Push me.”

  One said, “I didn’t.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did not.” Then One stuck his butt toward Two and made a fart noise with his lips and ran out of the kitchen.

  Two chased after him.

  The room was silent after that.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I warned you.”

  “You understated how annoying they were,” Johanna said.

  Then Mel asked, “Did you really pretend to have a credit card?”

  * chapter thirteen *

  HORROR FILM

  THAT NIGHT I CALLED LEIGH. As the phone rang, I thought about how stupid the twins had made me feel with the credit card comment. Luckily, I was able to explain that they were just Dumb-Os.

  “Chell-o, Syd,” Leigh answered. “How goes it out east?”

  “All spooky, all the time,” I said.

  “Really. Still?”

  “Actually, I’m starting to get used to it.” I had no reason to pretend anything with Leigh anymore. “My new friends really like the cemetery.”

  “Ugh. Then you need to find some new friends.”

  “I don’t think so. I like them.”

  “Then,” Leigh said, “I guess it’s a good thing you have a cemetery.”

  “Yeah.” I laughed a little. “The only thing that would make it better, make me the real Gigi, would be if it was haunted. They’d love that.”

  “So, do it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Syd, if they want a haunted cemetery, then give them one. You wanna be the Gigi of Spookytown, so get on it, Magoo. You’re an actress—act like it’s haunted.” She added, “Oh, gotta run.” And the line went dead.

  I might not have to act. . . .

  I thought about what it could be like if Lay to Rest was haunted.