The Mapmaker and the Ghost(32)

“But then that means … Randy Lewis-O’Malley is related to him?!” Goldenrod looked positively distraught.

“Who’s Meriwether Lewis?” Birch asked.

Unfortunately, Goldenrod didn’t have time to answer, as right then they heard someone opening the front door.



Goldenrod looked up from the picture to see Birch staring at her with a horrified expression. She knew this was exactly the kind of thing he was afraid would happen as soon as he had followed her up the stairs. For once, she almost wished she had allowed his sense of caution to stop her from being so thorough with her explorations. But it was too late now.

As fascinating and slightly horrifying as it was to have discovered what kind of relations Meriwether Lewis had left behind, Goldenrod realized this was not the time to ponder too heavily on it.

She carefully set the picture down, then put her finger to her lips and mouthed a “shhhh …” As slowly as she possibly could, she tiptoed toward the ladder and tried to pull it up. It was much heavier than she had expected.

Downstairs, she could hear creaks as someone made their way up the staircase. She heard that someone humming an old-fashioned song, one that she had heard tinkled in every ballerina music box known to man.

It was the old lady. Although just five minutes ago Goldenrod had been hoping they would meet so that she could warn her, now she was a bit disturbed by everything she had seen. What was she doing with all of Randy’s stuff? And how come her house was so weird?

She decided the best thing to do would be to hide in the attic—at least until she could come up with a better plan. She motioned for Birch to help her with the ladder.

His tiny muscles weren’t a huge boost but—combined with the sheer Moram determination—they were enough to finally heave the ladder up and shut the tile door behind it. Miraculously, this did not make nearly as much noise as Goldenrod had feared it would, the door closing with a muted thud as they were almost thrown back with the momentum of it.

They panted as footsteps walked up the hallway and to the bedroom door.

“Oh, my, my. I left the bedroom door open? Perhaps Edward is right about me,” they heard the old lady mutter and then laugh lightly to herself.

She entered the bedroom and started to shuffle around in it.

Birch was biting his lower lip and looking down at the floor, as if by doing so he could actually see what the old lady was up to, and Goldenrod found herself wishing that they both could. She carefully scooted over to Birch and put one arm around his shoulder. He looked up at her, and she tried her best to smile with confidence, even though she clearly had no idea what she was doing.

From the bedroom, they heard the sound of the computer being turned on.

The old lady continued to sing. She had now moved on to an operatic rendition of a pop song that had recently hit the radio and featured the lyrics, “Go round and round like the wheels on the bus. Shake it like you’re a tot in Toys‘R’Us.”

Just as soon as the old lady had finished the verse, Goldenrod heard the real song start up. She was confused until she heard the old lady say, “Hello?” and realized that the song must also be the old lady’s ringtone.

There was a pause and then the old lady gave a loud sigh. “Not the coin!”

There was another pause.

“Eight hundred dollars? Are you serious?” They could hear the old lady tapping away in annoyance on her computer keys. “No, no. Of course I want it,” she said irritably. “That boy has no sense of history.” Another pause, and then the old lady said coldly, “Thank you, Barnes. Disciplinary advice from you is always refreshing. Just hold it until tomorrow. I’ll be there to pick it up then.”

Goldenrod and Birch both looked at each other, Goldenrod now even more disturbed than before. Clearly whatever was going on in the woods, the old lady had some part in it.

The thing was, if Meriwether Lewis was a ghost haunting the woods, and if the old lady was up here holding all of his stuff … maybe Goldenrod’s original thoughts when she had met the old lady were right and she was a witch. After all, if there could be ghosts, who says there couldn’t be witches? And maybe somehow she was responsible for conjuring Meriwether up. Or even trapping him in the forest to begin with.

Goldenrod swallowed hard. It couldn’t be, though. She had liked the old lady so much. She’d been so nice to Goldenrod and told her all about the blue rose and sent her on a quest. A quest that, she reminded herself, technically would free Meriwether’s spirit. On the other hand, the quest had proven to be quite dangerous, and maybe that wasn’t such a good thing after all.

As she was pondering this latest mystery, suddenly she heard the sound of the front door being opened once more.

The old lady became very quiet beneath them, and Goldenrod and Birch strained to hear the new intruders.

At first they couldn’t make out much, but then came the unmistakable voice of No-Bone.

“Why are you whispering?” he boomed as he made his way up the stairs.

“She might be home,” trailed Toe Jam’s much quieter voice.

“So … what, you and I can’t take on a hundred-year-old lady?”

With horror, Goldenrod suddenly noticed that the ladder that was lying flat in front of them was quickly slipping away. Down, down, down it went as the ceiling tile opened once more.

Step-by-step, the old lady climbed up it with a speed and agility that was surprising for someone of her age. She only looked up when she had reached the top.