Chapter III
Kat glanced up as Vic and the Steubing twins sat at the other end of her table. They did that every day...of course, besides Wendy, they were the only ones who would sit at the same table with her at lunch at all.
"So what do you want to do today after school?" Casper was saying from under the table.
Kat shrugged as she bit into her sandwich. "I don't know," she said after swallowing. "There isn't anything to do in this town." Then she nodded towards the door. "Here comes Wendy."
Wendy walked calmly and quietly through the cafeteria, heading for Kat's table. All the kids eyed her suspiciously, obviously waiting for her to do something, but she didn't. All she did was march straight for Kat, a serene look on her face. Finally the kids seemed to give up and went back to their lunches, if a bit hesitantly.
"Heya Kat." Wendy sat down across from the other girl and swung a tall rectangular styrofoam cooler up onto the table. "Guess what happened in P.E. today."
"Uh, what?" Kat was having trouble taking her eyes from the cooler, which was covered with official-looking stencils that said things like Fragile: Human Head and Perishable: Keep Away From Heat and Frost.
"Well," Wendy started, taking time out to make a sinister face at some girls walking by, "our coach said that since it wasn't snowing, we could have tennis today. So I hit this ball and it went into Vice Principle Leigh's convertible."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah so the coach said I had to go get it, so I went over there but Leigh's got one of those funky talking proximity car alarms. Those things are a trip. Hey, you want that banana?"
"Oh, no, here." Kat handed over the fruit.
"I'll give it right back." Wendy pulled a black Sharpie marker from her left boot and drew a leering face on the banana. "Check this out," she told Kat, then stood up.
Kat waited in great anticipation. Casper peeked through the table.
Wendy tossed the banana in the air, sending it tumbling down towards a group of eighth-graders in the corner. "Look out!" screeched Wendy. "It's possessed!"
The eighth-graders yelled and vacated the cafeteria.
Wendy retrieved the banana and took it to a group of squeamish-looking girls. "Look!" she said, thrusting the thing in their faces, "a Paraguyan Fruit Demon!"
The girls squealed and cringed. Vic and the twins took this as their cue to leave.
Kat laughed. Casper started to laugh too, and quickly had hid himself by moving so that his top half was inside Wendy's cooler.
Wendy came back and sat down. "I love bananas," she said, putting the now-bruised fruit on the table. She reached for her cooler and opened the top. "Want some Vietnamese fried rice?" She looked in the cooler.
Kat stopped smiling and opened her mouth wide in horror.
"Excuse me," Wendy said to Casper, who blinked back at her, "could you pass me that red Tupperware bowl there?"
Casper silently complied.
Kat glanced around worriedly, then leaned forward. "Aren't you a little bit surprised?" she whispered.
"Sheyeah," said Wendy, opening the container and peering inside. "I told my uncle I wanted pork."
"No, about..." Kat broke off and nodded towards Casper's hiding place.
Wendy frowned. "What, the ghost in my cooler? Not really. Why?" She procured a fork from her right boot and began to eat the rice.
Casper poked his head through the side of the cooler. "You aren't scared of me?" he asked in wonder.
"What for?" Wendy chewed. "You aren't scary."
Kat stared at the blonde in disbelief. Then she and Casper looked at eachother in excitement. Wendy was cooler than they thought! "Look, can we talk about this someplace where no one will see Casper?" asked Kat.
Wendy put her fork down. "No reason for us to leave," she said, then got up and clambered up onto the table. She gritted her teeth and glowered around at the hastily quieted students, then stared straight ahead and announced in a demonic voice: "THE RECKONING IS AT HAND. I MUST PREPARE THE SACRIFICE."
Everyone else in the cafeteria, including the hall monitors and cafeteria workers, screamed and ran out.
"Wow," marvelled Casper in awe. "Even I couldn't do it that fast."
Wendy sat back down. "It's nice to meet you, Casper," she said politely, shaking hands with the small ghost, who came out of the cooler to float just over the table. "I haven't actually met very many ghosts - I'm only thirteen you know."
"You've met ghosts before?"
"Sure," Wendy told Casper. "We always get a few at our house on major holidays," she explained, putting her rice and fork away.
Kat was stunned. "At your house? But what about your family?"
Wendy smiled. "Well, my Aunt Wynona always says that anyone who has a ghost as a friend can be trusted with just about anything, so...I guess I can tell you." She leaned forward and whispered, even though there was nobody else in the room: "We're witches."
Kat and Casper's eyebrows shot up simultaneously. "Witches?" they demanded in unison.
"Yeah, don't tell anyone, okay? It wouldn't be very good for my aunts' reputations as 'upstanding pillars' of our society."
Kat was dumbfounded. This was turning out to be a very cool day. "So...do you ride a broom or anything?" she wanted to know.
"Nah. I'm not allowed to until I turn sixteen. But I have a broom. It's very friendly."
"But when you get older you could cast cool spells on people and bend them to your will, right?" Casper prodded mischeviously.
Wendy grinned. "No, I stopped wanting to be a politician when I was seven. Now I want to be a lawyer. I'm lucky - my Aunt Mina just married one last month. He's pretty cool. Hey," she said suddenly, "you guys want to come over to my house today after school?"
Kat and Casper exchanged excited glances. "Yeah!" said Casper. Kat nodded.
"Ok." Wendy frowned, remembering something. "Oh, but my house is kinda weird..."
Kat stopped her with a wave of her hand. "More than half of my household are transparent," she pointed out. "I think I can handle it."
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
"Good afternoon, Dr. Harvey," said Bank President Wysteria Wainwright, shaking hands with the therapist. "Please have a seat."
James did as he was told, taking his place at one end of the long conference table. Miss Wainwright sat in the middle of one of the sides and straightened some papers stacked in front of her.
At the other end of the table sat Mayor Hymer, flanked by his two bodyguards (who remained standing - probably to look more important). As usual, the Mayor was...well, he was behaving oddly: this time he was making shadow-puppets with his hands, despite the fact that there were no shadows to speak of in the room due to the fact that the windows' shades were all drawn. And also as usual, the bodyguards were standing up straight, with walkie-talkies plastered to their faces. They were wearing their sunglasses, oblivious to the fact thst the bank president's private office was rather dark.
"Shall we begin?" Miss Wainwright said rather than asked, folding her hands over the stack of papers.
The bodyguards nodded. "The purpose of this final meeting is to complete the monetary transactions between you, Dr. Harvey, and the First Bank of Friendship as mediated by the Mayor," explained the first bodyguard stiffly.
The second bodyguard picked up where the first left off. "Your account here will be closed and the City's account will be expanded to accept the government funding that will arrive on January the first."
Both of the guards nodded to the Mayor, who looked up, flustered. "I did not eat all the Wheaties!" he protested.
"Unless you can prove ownership, you are required to have vacated the grounds of Whipstaff Manor by midnight on December thirty-first - "
Miss Wainwright cut off the first bodyguard's speech efficiently by speaking firmly: "We have been aware of the details of the deal for quite some time now. Dr. Harvey and his daughter are prepared." Here she regared the Mayor so cooly that he forgot all about both his shadow-puppets and his fictional Wheaties and becan making origami swans with Forms A through F.
"...May I ask," said James bravely, "just what you plan to do with the house after you receive these 'funds'?"
"Those plans are top secret," retorted the second bodyguard defensively, and both of the blue-suited men shifted their walkie-talkies to their other cheeks in unison.
Miss Wainwright pushed her large glasses up her thin nose. "They plan to turn Whipstaff into a tourist trap, Dr. Harvey," she told her client smoothly.
"No, we're not!" protested the first man, then leaned to whisper to the second one, "You said you weren't going to tell anyone!"
"I saw the notes on it," said Miss Wainwright drily. "They were posted in the hallway outside the Mayor's office."
The Mayor began to make his swans peck at eachother violently.
James was terribly confused. "But how can you make a tourist attraction out of someplace that's haunted?" he demanded. "No one would come. No one would be allowed to come," he added as an afterthought.
"Whipstaff Manor will put Friendship, Maine on the map," the first bodyguard argued, deciding it was better to defend the plan rather than pretend it didn't exist.
"Yes, on the map! Right next to Stonehenge!" agreed the second man.
James and Miss Wainwright exchanged faintly disgusted looks.
"Sign those papers, Harvey," insisted the first man, indicating the stack of forms with the antenna of his walkie-talkie.
"If you do not sign them you will be in violation of Term 5, Section K," put in the second bodyguard. They both looked firmly at the Mayor, who dropped his shredded swans hurriedly.
"Oh," he said, remembering that he, as the Mayor, must say something. "I went fishing once with a fork."
Miss Wainwright shrugged at James. It had to be done.