"ACK! What happened here?! How did this-?! Fenton!"
The sound of Jeremy's shouting woke Jazz up with a start. She lifted her head up for a moment before remembering her father's bumping around about last night. Realizing the probable cause Jeremy's anger, she fell back into her pillow with a groan. She laid there listening to the incoherent shouting match going on out in the hall as she imagined herself on a deserted island. No stupid ghost hunts, no embarassing dad, no mess to clean up. Just her and pure bliss. Lost castaways have it so lucky.
"Rise and shine, Jazzy!"
Jack slammed the door open and walked right in while Jeremy kept shouting outside.
"Hey!" he demanded, "Get back here! I'm not-!"
But Jack slammed the door shut and went over to the bed. He pulled the covers off of Jazz.
"Great news!" he said.
"The tow truck's coming soon?" Jazz sat up and asked, hopefully.
"Nope! Even better! My Fenton Finder kept going off all night! Which means the ghost has been walking about all around this house last night. We're bound to find him soon. Did your Finder pick him up?" he picked up the Finder from the bed and after a quick inspection, looked down at Jazz in annoyance, "Hey! What'd you turn it off for? You know, if you want to be a great ghost hunter like your old man here, you need to pay more attention to your surroundings. And you can't do that if your Finder's off. Here."
He turned it back on and it instantly went off again.
"Ghost spotted! Ghost spotted! A ghost has been spotted in this area!"
"Eureka!" he shouted, "He's here! See, Jazzy? This is why you need to keep this on! Now, stand aside! I'll get this ghost! You just stay here and take notes! Alright, ghost! Show yourself! I know you're here! You don't fool Jack Fenton!"
He shoved the Finder into Jazz's hands and took out a device that looked like a vacuum cleaner.
"I couldn't get the Ghost Weasel, so the Fenton Xtractor will have to do for now. Alright, ghost! Here comes Jack Fenton!"
He turned on the machine and waved it menacingly around the room, running from one spot to the next as he continued to call for the ghost. To Jazz's horror, her dad shoved the nozzle of the Xtractor into the furniture and banged it up and down and all about, battering both the furniture and the walls just like he did in room twenty-nine.
"Dad! Stop! What are you doing?!" she shouted.
"Not now, Jazz! I'm on the verge of weakening him! I can feel it! Surrender, ghost-scum!"
"Hey!"
The door rattled as Jeremy tried to open it. Unfortunately for him, Jack had somehow managed to shove the nightstand in front of it, preventing it from being opened all the way. Jeremy had managed to push the door just enough for him to see the chaos inside.
"What the-?!" he shouted, "What are you doing, you idiot?! Stop that right now! There's no stupid ghost! Mother!"
He threw his entire weight onto the door, making the nightstand move a few inches.
"Dad stop!" Jazz pleaded as Jeremy continued shoving the door open and calling for his mother, "You're going to get us into trouble!"
But Jack ignored her. He ran up to the window and waved the Xtractor around the curtains, sucking them in.
"I know you're in there somewhere ghost! I'll find you!" he shouted.
"You moron!" Jeremy finally got the door open and ran over to Jack. He grabbed the hose of the Xtractor and tried to wrestle it away, "There's no such thing as ghosts! Mother!"
As the two fought over the hose, which was still in the process of sucking up the curtains, Jazz eyed the open door and thought now would be a great time to leave. She jumped out of bed and ran out the room. She continued running down the stairs and didn't stop until she was in the kitchen. Out of breath, she stopped and leaned over the counter while she panted. Great. This was just great. As if things weren't humiliating enough already. Why can't she just go one day without her dad finding some new way to embarass her? Why did he always have to make an idiot of himself? Why can't he just be a normal dad with a normal job? What's wrong with being an accountant? Or a salesman? Or anything that's got nothing to do with ghosts? Anything but ghosts!
Jazz stood there thinking about her father's poor life choices for about a minute until a soft clink made her look up. She stood still and listened for about ten seconds when she heard another clink. Strange. Where was that coming from?
"Mrs. Manson?" she called out.
Clink.
"Hello?"
The clinking continued, more frequently this time. Curious, she walked around the kitchen trying to determine the source. She could still hear the shouting going on upstairs, so she knew it wasn't coming from her father. She called out to Mrs. Manson again as she searched for the clinking noise, which was by now was sounding constantly. She came across a door right behind a wooden chair seated at the head of a short kitchen table. The clinking grew louder when she opened the door. She peered down the set of stairs in front of her and called out again.
"Mrs. Manson?"
She heard someone muttering amongst all the noise. She went down the stairs and called out to Mrs. Manson again. Either Jazz wasn't being heard, or she was being ignored. She came to the bottom step and into the dusty and cobweb infested basement. She was surrounded by shelves full of grimy boxes and bottles full of equally grimy stuff. There was a woman with dark hair just slightly past her shoulders in a floor-length black dress standing in front of Jazz. She had her back turned to her and was busy rummaging amongst the cans and jars on a shelf, muttering to herself.
"Ghost spotted!" the Finder went off in Jazz's hands, "Ghost-!"
Jazz shut it off as the young woman turned and faced her. Her violet colored eyes stared back at her in confusion as Jazz sheepishly smiled.
"Sorry," she apologized.
"Oh, no, no," the woman smiled, "I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't realize we had new guests here. My name is Sam. I'm the owner's daughter."
She held out her hand and Jazz shook it, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Jazz."
"Welcome, Jazz. Are you settled in? Do you need anything?"
A loud crash from above made both girls look up in alarm.
"I know you're here somewhere ghost!" Jack shouted, "You can't hide forever!"
"I don't know him," Jazz quickly said with her cheeks blushing.
"Oh," Sam replied, still staring up the steps, "Is he another guest?"
"Yeah, I guess. I don't really know him. At all. Nope. Not one bit. Do you need any help with something? It looks like you're having some trouble there. Here. Let me help you with that!"
Jazz rushed over to the shelf before Sam could protest and started looking around amongst the contents.
"No, really," Sam tried to gently push her away, "I'm fine. Really. I'm just looking for those canned cherries. I could've sworn there were here."
"I don't see any- WHOA!"
Jazz stood on her tiptoes for a closer look and felt her foot step on something round. It rolled away and she soon found herself falling over backwards. She grimaced as she landed flat on her back. Sam quickly took her hand and helped her back up.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah," she moaned as she rubbed her sore back, "What did I trip on?"
Sam bent down and picked up a rusty, dusty old can with its label almost worn away.
"Oh my god," she said, "I am so sorry! I probably threw it on the ground while I was looking for the cherries. I am so sorry!"
"That's o- Hey, wait. There's something inside it."
Sam looked down puzzled and noticed the can was missing its lid. And that something was indeed inside. She pulled out a yellowed note and a small silver key. She looked at the objects in confusion as Jazz took the note from her and read it aloud.
Remember where we first met? I hid something for you underneath the piano. You'll need the key. Let our game begin. Dan
"Another note?" Jazz wondered out loud as she stared at the key, "Huh. I'm guessing this is the surprise he was talking about."
"You know this Dan person?" Sam asked, "Is he another guest? Is this your key?"
"What? No. It's a long story. Last night I-"
"Jazz? Jazzy-pants?" Jack called out, "Where'd you go? You find the ghost, yet?"
"He knows your name?" Sam asked while Jazz groaned in dispair, "I thought you said you didn't know him."
"I don't!" she insisted, "I don't! We just met!"
"Jazzy?" her father called.
"I'd better go. Good luck with those cherries!"
Jazz ran up the steps as her father continued calling. Halfway up, she remembered she had turned off the Finder. Not wanting another lecture, she quickly turned it back on.
"Ghost spotted! Ghost spotted!"
"Ghost!" Jack suddenly ran down the stairs, dragging the Xtractor behind him, "Get away from my daughter, you filthy spook!"
"Dad! Stop!"
"Dad?" she heard Sam say at the bottom, "I thought you said you never met this man before. And why's he screaming about ghosts?"
Before Jazz could answer, her father ran into her, sending them both tumbling down the steps. Sam quickly moved out of the way and pressed herself against a shelf. Once they landed at the bottom, Jack quickly got up to his feet and menacingly waved the hose of his device.
"Where is it!" he demanded, "Where's the ghost? Which way did he go? Are you alright, Jazzy?"
"Dad!" Jazz shouted, angrily and stood up, "Stop! There's no stupid ghost around here!"
But he ignored her and ran around the basement, bashing the Xtractor about. Sam's wide eyes stared at him in bewilderment while he continued challenging the ghost that was supposedly in the basement.
"You don't fool me!" he shouted.
Jazz ran up the stairs with her face all red. When she got back to the kitchen, she ran out until she was back in the lobby. Noticing that the RV was still stuck in the wall, she leaned her back against the reception desk and buried her face in her hands. Meanwhile, Jeremy had come back down the stairs and was currently behind the desk with a furious expression on his face while he talked into the phone against his ear.
"What do you mean you're not sending anyone out?" he demanded, "It's only a little snow! What do you mean you can't go out in three feet of snow! Do you have any idea what's stuck in my lobby right now? An RV! There is an RV in my lobby! And it's idiot driver is ruining my inn! Yes I'm serious! No we don't have a garage in the lobby! What sort of stupid question is that! He drove through the wall! Yes I'm serious! Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"
Jazz heard enough. She ducked so that Jeremy wouldn't be able to see her and as quietly as possible, ran up the stairs and back into her room. She slammed the door shut and groaned again when she saw all the battered walls and furniture. The nightstand was toppled over onto its side and sported numerous dents and scratches. The dresser had been moved over to the opposite side of the room and had similar injuries. The TV was lying on the ground with a broken screen and an antenna broken off. The curtains had been torn clean off, though amazingly, the window was fine. The bed had been moved and the covers were now on the floor, but otherwise looked alright.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. This day couldn't possibly get any better. Jazz sighed as she sat on the bed. She stared at the ground for a moment or so until the Finder went off again.
"Ghost spotted! Gh-!"
She shut it off and angrily tossed it to the floor. She glared at it. Stupid Fenton Finder. No, stupid Dad. He was wasting his time. He was never going to find the ghost because ghosts didn't exist! When is he going to wake up and realize this?
A movement caught Jazz's attention. She turned and noticed a shadow cross over the fallen nightstand. She walked over to it and looked around for the cause of the shadow, but couldn't find anything. That was weird. Maybe it was the movement of the light outside? She looked out, but saw that the sky was still gray. The sun wasn't out. Strange. Jazz soon felt a presence behind her and turned. No one was there. Then why did she still feel it? And why did she feel like she was being watched? This was really weird.
Jazz shook her head. She was being stupid. All of this stupid ghost nonsense was starting to get to her. If she didn't watch it, she'd be bumbling around and shouting out into thin air like her father. She needed to get a grip. Still... She looked to the spot where she had thought somebody was watching her. She still couldn't shake off the feeling that somebody was there. She unwittingly shivered as a chill went up her spine.