Excerpt from RUINED: A GHOST STORY
by Paula Morris
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“Our cottage garden.” Aunt Claudia gestured at the yard, her bangles rattling. Rebecca climbed the rickety steps to the porch and walked over to the rocking chair chained to the wooden railings. She didn’t know about “cottage garden”: It looked like weeds. The view from the porch was of the cemetery across the street — or rather its high, dirt-streaked walls. Just down the street was an entrance with tall gates. Aunt Claudia, fumbling inside her giant crocheted bag for the keys she’d had in her hand just a minute ago, followed Rebecca’s gaze.
“Lafayette Cemetery’s not a safe place,” her aunt told her. “Unfortunately. You should keep away.”
“Why?” Rebecca had a sudden vision of dead bodies reaching up to grab her, their stiff fingers dark with soil.
“Criminals and derelicts,” said Aunt Claudia, pushing open the door. “They wait for tourists to wander in so they can mug them. Some poor soul was shot there just before the storm. Unless you’re on one of the big guided tours, it’s not a safe place. That’s why all the gates are locked every afternoon. Really, you must promise me you’ll never go there.”
Rebecca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Aunt Claudia was just as overprotective as her father. Didn’t she know that Rebecca was used to catching the New York City subway, walking through Central Park, hanging out with her friends downtown?
Her aunt stood on the threshold, door ajar, key still in the lock, as though she was waiting for Rebecca’s solemn promise before they could move inside.
“Here’s Marilyn!” cried Aurelia. A small, long-haired, black-and-white cat bounded through the doorway, past Aurelia’s outstretched hands and down the pathway. As though she’d been listening to their conversation, the cat scampered down the street toward the cemetery gate. Without hesitation, she squeezed under the gate’s lowest rung and disappeared into the darkness. Rebecca couldn’t help laughing.
“That cat is setting a very bad example,” sighed Aunt Claudia, shaking her head. She seemed to have forgotten about making Rebecca promise things, which was just as well: Rebecca was hoping to follow Marilyn’s lead sometime soon. She was from New York, after all: A small cemetery in a tiny city like this didn’t frighten her.
From Ruined: A Ghost Story. Copyright © 2009 by Paula Morris. Reprinted with permission by Point, an imprint of Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved.
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