8

Justin's head was still reeling. His legs felt like limp jelly, and his feet moved as if they were blocks of concrete. Blinking his eyes several times to remain conscious, he pulled his way up the railing of the staircase in the stairwell to the second floor. He hadn't felt like this since he was a kid and his parents took him to Disney World to ride the roller coaster. His hands shook as he gripped the railing and pulled himself up, but even at the top he was afraid he could topple over the banister. He swayed one way and then the next. His eyes sleepily trying to make out the way to the loft, he took a deep breath and stumbled forward into the fire hose outside the door. Bracing himself, he tried to tune out the loud shrill of screams and laughter still echoing through his head, dropped drunkenly on the door and tried turning the knob even as he fingers refused to work. His fingers had no feeling, he wasn't even sure if it was turning, but finally the latch moved and the door and he fell through the door and toward the sofa. His father looked up surprised, and his mother looked alarmed. Harper shrieked to see him staggering in drunk.

"Justin…" Theresa came up to him. "Have you been drinking?"

Justin hugged the sofa cushion and lifted his head to see her.

"I wish…." His voice slurred.

"Oh!" Jerry reacted. "You finally went by Ghost World!" He referred to the deserted and haunted Presbyterian Church over on McCarthy Street. Justin rolled his eyes upset and disgusted toward his father then hugged the sofa a bit tired and wished the world would stop shaking. His eyes were still vibrating in his head, his head felt as if it was about to explode and he felt as if he was about to vomit up his lungs. He felt as if there was a beehive in his lower extremities with insects flying in and out of his ears. His father came over and lifted him up to sit up straight next to him. Harper closed the open loft door and then stood over the sofa with Max to hear any current news Justin might have learned.

"What did you hear?" Jerry acted more like Justin's friend than his father.

"I can't believe I went into that haunted basement for Alex…" Justin grumbled disgustedly and said his sister's name as if it was a dirty word.

"Don't worry, Justin, you did good." His mother handed him hot chocolate milk from the microwave. Clenching it with two hands as if he was he was praying, Justin dizzily lifted it to his lips and took a tiny sip that barely got his mouth wet. Dreamily looking back, he looked around to his family.

"What no marshmallows?"

"Justin!" His father swatted him then apologized. "What did you learn?"

"I think they knew I was coming." Justin sipped his drink again and tried to focus. "I think every obnoxious earthbound spirit within five hundred miles of Manhattan was there. They tossed me around like Godzilla playing with a railroad car, they played keep-away with my wand and then they…" He paused. "You know that game they used to play in the Seventies where they tried to see how many people they could stuff into a phone booth?"

"Yeah…" Jerry listened to him. "I remember doing that a few times."

"They did that to me!" Justin finally felt well enough to raise his voice very annoyed.

"Justin…" Harper looked to Max and back to Justin. "What about Alex?"

"All of the Frost family members passed over after the fire in 1865." Justin announced and sipped more of his hot chocolate without the marshmallows. "The only ghosts we have at school are three Native Americans, two slaves, a headless French colonist…"

"And a partridge in a pear tree…" Max sang the lyrics to break the tension. His parents looked up at him, but it still hurt for Justin to turn his eyes up into his direction. Harper knocked the young comedian up the back of his head.

"Justin, are you sure?" Jerry turned to his boy.

"Yes…"

"Positive?"

"Yes."

"You don't think you should go back to make sure you heard them right…."

Justin just glared back at him. Go back to Ghost World? He'd much rather go hunting for sharks with an uncooked side of beef strapped to his back. He'd rather go into the South Bronx with money hanging out of his pockets and diamonds dripping from his jacket. He'd rather get a tattoo to his back with the lid off a rusty can.

"Well, Jerry…." Theresa stood dismayed and impatient. "What are you going to do next? You said you had a lead to find Alex? Well, where is it? Where is it?" She was entering the stage of grief known as hostility. "You are still no closer to finding our daughter! Where's my baby girl?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this…" Jerry looked at her angry face and let out a deep defeated breath. "But it looks like we may have to bother Professor Danvers for another personal favor." It was so embarrassing for him to go outside the family for magical matters beyond his knowledge of the mystical arts.

"Justin's old teacher?" Harper remembered the man. He was one of few magicians who had mastered spells from wizardry, sorcery, mysticism and totemistic magic. He had traveled the world to learn from the spirits of old sages and mystics; Danvers' old mentor had learned the arts from Merlin himself. He was reputed to be as powerful as Lord Dumbledore of Hogwarts and as mysterious as Lord Maple of the Canadian Whisper League.

"Yeah…" Jerry sounded defeatedly embarrassed. "Theresa, can you watch the shop? I'll go to see him just as soon as I can get cleaned up. I'm not facing him until I've got myself washed up a bit."

"Jerry…" Theresa came up to him. "I'm sorry for shouting like that, but… what if even he can't find Alex? You said these Frosts were pretty powerful when they were alive."

"They were…" Jerry started up to the bedrooms. "But they were also humanitarians and decent people…" He turned and tramped up the steps of the spiral staircase for his bedroom. In his absence, Harper dropped silently on to the arm of the sofa and tried to hope for the best. Max mulled around trying to think of what the do next, but Justin felt worst of all. He went into the old church on a mission for information to find his sister. He was going to be a hero. He was going to return home with Alex by his side, but Mantooth met him in the old vaults, pretended to be old friends and then invited him over to meet some old Hessian soldiers. They teased him, mocked him and then had fun with him by throwing him around like those guys passed around at those huge pop concerts. He tried to be brave, but his screaming and threats with the wand just mad them laugh louder. They might have been decent people in life, but after years of realizing they could get away with stuff they couldn't do when they were alive, they had all become the most obnoxious band of practical jokers in the world. That church basement was like the movie "Animal House" on endless playback. In his ears, he could hear Mantooth, the old soldiers, dead statesmen, drowned sailors and forgotten merchants all chanting his name.

"Jus-tin, Jus-tin, Jus-tin, Jus-tin…"

"Justin?" Max tapped his brother.

"What?" Justin jumped up almost a foot after getting touched.

"Did you bring me back anything from Ghost World?"

"You want something?" Justin recalled having been bounced around inside a coffin with dried human remains in it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old dried up human finger. Harper cringed upon seeing it and held her hand over her mouth.

"Here you go!"

"Oh, man…" Max lit up after getting the mummified finger. "This is so cool!" He grinned at the tint digit. "Look, it's still got a fingernail attached!"