"Why," demanded Leila as Paul-no, she told herself- George preened himself using her compact mirror, "do you need me to go to that house?"
He dragged himself away from his unusual reflection. "What are these?" he asked, pointing to his mouth.
"Braces," she hurriedly answered, annoyed that he wasn't giving her the information she wanted. "Why exactly did you possess my best friend?"
"What are they for?" he asked, completely ignoring her.
"He has a few teeth that grew in weird on the left side--That's not important!" She grabbed the collar of Paul's jacket and pulled George close to her face. "What," she snarled, nostrils flared, "is wrong with the mansion and how can I get my friend back?"
Eyes wide with pure panic and shock behind the thick lenses, George stammered, "There's an evil--" But before he could explain, he was interrupted as a voice droned, "There you two are."
Leila and George turned to see a middle aged man with a thin, greasy ponytail standing in the doorway of a classroom. Behind him, students craned their necks as far as they could so they could see what the commotion was without having to get up from their desks. Upon seeing the brooding, quiet Leila gripping the geeky Paul so that their faces were just centimeters from each other, they sniggered and made crude moaning and kissing noises. The pale girl felt her cheeks grow hot as she blushed.
"Hi, Mr. Coats," she mumbled.
"Hi to you too, Miss Toombs, Mr. Yale. You're just in time for your history test. Unfortunately, you just missed the history test review I gave the class. Take your seats and we'll discuss your punishment later. You know skipping class is not tolerated."
"Yes, sir," Leila mumbled as she walked in. George grabbed her arm and stopped her.
"Sir," he began. When Leila gave him an odd look, he smiled and whispered, "Just let me handle this." To the teacher, he said, "I'm sorry we're late for you quiz, but we have more important, pressing matters to settle." Ignoring Leila's protests, he continued, "If you don't mind, Leila and I really need to be going. I'm sure she and Pa--I can make up this little exam later, at a more convienent time." He smiled in a smug, winning way that just didn't suit the body he was inhabitating. "If you don't mind, we'll be on our way." He took Leila's hand and began to saunter out...
"I can't believe you did that," Leila muttered. They had finished their test and were waiting for the bell to ring. Kids around her were still whispering and shooting her sly looks.
George shrugged. He was sitting in the desk in front of the blond, turned around in his seat. "It usually works. People always do what I say."
"Thanks to you, I have a week's worth of detentions," Leila huffed. "And now everyone thinks I was making out with you--er, Paul." She glared at her classmates.
He raised a thick eyebrow quizzically. "'May-king-out'?" he prounced slowly, confused.
She stared down at her detention form. All she needed was for her mom to sign it, then she would turn it in to Mr. Coats. Feeling her face once again flush, she explained, "They think we were kissing."
"Oh...That's a dumb thing to call it. Besides, unmarried girls wouldn't do that sort of thing in public, right?"
With both eyebrows arched and eyes wide, she said, "Wow, you have been dead a long time." The ghost regarded her with a mix of curiosity and amusement before the bell rang for their last period class. "As much as I would love to skip phys. ed., there's no way we can. Coach Crump would catch us for sure." Sighing, she took him by the wrist. "Come on, we have to just make it through P. E. and then we can leave."
"What's pee? Oh, wait...that's a disgusting subject for a school curriculum!" he cried, shocked.
Leila didn't know whether to laugh or feel more worried.
Paul concentrated, arms down by his sides, palms facing the ground. Slowly, he floated two inches above the moist cemetery dirt. Giggling, he hovered for nearly a minute before he was distracted by someone yelling, and fell. He flew back up into a standing position, marveling at the lighter than air sensation. It was amazing! He could go from being kind of solid and walking and normal looking, to weightless and transparent and gliding. And the respect he got was just...just...downright thrilling! No one pushed him, or shoved him into a locker, or whipped him with towels. Little neighborhood kids didn't call him "four eyes" or "brace face". Dogs weren't chasing him.
The afterlife was sweet! Or, rather, the afterlife as Master Gracey was sweet. All he had to do was just kill time until Leila came back. He chuckled to himself . Heh, kill time. Although, part of him did feel a little guilty leaving the crystal ball woman and the little girl alone with that weird...whatever he was. But what could he do? If he had power over ghosts, Paul couldn't do anything. He might as well enjoy himself.
Once again, he heard the yell. He turned, straining his ear to listen. "HELP!" He followed the voice until it lead him to a small, shut mauselum. Hesitating for only a second out of sheer nervousness, he stepped through the door. It was just as he expected: filled with cobwebs and a few coffins. What was a surprise, however, were the three ghosts sitting in the middle of the floor, tied up with a chain. One was plump, with a round face, and messy hair, which was barely concealed under a tophat. He was the one that had been yelling. The second was short, with a long beard, and it appeared, bizzarrely enough, that the chain had started from a clasp on his ankle. The third, and maddest looking of the bunch, was skinny to the point of being emaciated. A bow tie rested undrer his chin, a bowler derby was perched on his head, and between the two was a metal ball, which had been shoved in his mouth. His large, bulging eyes were scowling as fiercly as they could, showing his displeasure in the situation.
"You guys need a little help?" asked Paul as he approached them.
The thin one tried to snap a sarcastic remark, but all that came out was, "Huff voo foo fink?"
"Ezzie says yes," said the shortest in a gruff, scratchy voice.
Paul stared at the chains, not knowing where to start. "You need to uncork Ezra," said the plump one. "As much as it may pain us." Ezra glowered at him, and the other ghost returned it with a wide grin. Paul pulled out the metal ball/gag from out of Ezra's mouth.
"Thank you!" the skeletal specter cried. He stretched out his jaw.
"I knew we could count on you, George," added the round faced ghost with a kind smile.
As he unwound the chain, Paul asked, "What happened?"
"Well," started Ezra, "we were taking care of Atticus, just like you asked."
"Atticus?" Paul asked before he could catch himself.
"Yeah..." said the plump ghost slowly as he shimmied out of the bind. "Anyway, we had his head right over the toilet bowl and then, well..."
"He woke up," said the littlest ghost. He jumped up as soon as he was freed. Paul was shocked to see that they had been tied up using a chain that was shackled to his ankle.
"So, this Atticus," asked Paul, "he's bad news?"
The three ghosts stared at him. "You feelin' okay?" asked Ezra.
"Yeah, I'm fine, guys. Just, uh," he faltered, "must be coming down with, uh...ghost flu." He grinned.
They shot each other unsure looks and then turned back to Paul. "What's my name?" asked the plump one.
"Uh, uh..." Okay, thought Paul, something old fashioned. Think! "Uh, Phil-" The ghost arched an eyebrow. Phillip wasn't going to be right. "Uh, Phi...neas?"
They glanced at each other again. After what felt like a tense eternity, they smiled. "Must be okay," said Ezra, "how else would he know---HOW DID YOU DIE!" he demanded.
"Gah!" Paul yelped in surprise. "I--I, uh, stabbed...No! Shot!" They shook their heads. "Uh, decapitated?"
"Eeert!" The short ghost imitated a game show buzzer. "The correct answer was, 'What is hanged'?"
"But we have some lovely parting gifts," said Phineas. "You get a free trip to Swirly City unless you tell us who you are and what happened to George." Ezra cracked his knuckles and Gus cackled wickedly.
Paul grimaced, staring at the three fearfully. He backed up against a wall as they advanced towards him, and then fell through and landed on his back. They followed and he tried desperately to scramble away. "I don't know what happened! I was just walking to history class and then, poof, I'm this Gracey guy, and apparently he's in my body, being me, because some bodyless chick in a crystal ball made it happen! Please don't hurt me!"
The trio stopped. The threatening looks vanished as they stared at the imposter, confused and worried. It was bizarre to see their calculated, cool, arrogant friend, hands clasped, pleading on his knees. He just looked so...pitiful.
"We aren't going to hurt you, kid," Ezra sighed.
"You--you aren't?" the false George asked as he timidly got to his feet. "Thank you!" He enthusiatically shook their hands.
"One question though," said Phineas. "Who are you?"
"I'm Paul. Paul Yale. And, you're Phineas right? And Ezra?" They nodded. "And you are?"
"Gus!"
"Right, okay. Um, it might be best if you guys didn't tell anyone else what's going on."
"Why?" asked Phineas. "Could the consequences be dire?"
"No, but this whole 'Master Gracey' thing is freakin' sweet! It's amazing! People are actually listening to me!"
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" asked Ezra as he picked ectoplasmic wax out of his ear.
"Well, everyone except Lord Voldemort up there." Paul nodded to Leota's room. Purple lights could be seen in the window. "He threw me out the window. Is he that Atticus freak you were talking about?"
"Yep," said Phineas, "and if he found out what was going on... Well, let's just hope he doesn't."
"What about them?" asked Gus, sweeping his arm to suggest the whole graveyard.
"They'd lose it," answered Ezra. "As far as they know, things are being kept under control by you--er, George and Madam Leota. If they found out you were some random mortal, we'd be in total choas. Just curious, how old are you, anyway?"
Feeling embarrassed, Paul replied, "Sixteen."
Phineas dropped his face in his hand, shook his head, and sighed. "Oh boy. I really hope Leota knew what she was doing with this."
"We gotta keep him out of trouble," suggested Gus.
After studying their pathetic looking friend, Phineas said, "Why not take him on a tour? As long as we can keep him away from Atticus long enough for Leota to have George do whatever he needs to do, we should be fine."
"Sounds like a plan," muttered Ezra.
"Spankin'!" Paul grinned. "Where to first?" He jogged to catch up with his new buddies.
"First off, don't EVER say that again!" snapped Ezra. "Spankin'... You kids have such crazy slng. Y'all sound like you just graduated from squirrel college."
"What are we playing?" asked George, feeling oddly exposed in his t-shirt and shorts. The shirt was on backwards because he had dressed with his eyes closed. He was standing in the middle of a cement court. A few kids, including Leila, stood nearby.
"Dodgeball," Leila hissed in his ear.
George brightened. "That sounds fun? How do you play?"
"You dodge the ball."
"And when--" Coach Crump blew his whistle. Leila jumped aside. About twenty dodgeballs hit George in the face.
Lying in a crumpled heap, he groaned, "I don't think I like this game."