There's a Dead Person Following My Sister Around Read Online Free Page B

lurking there watching us.
    Vicki started to cry.
    Mom slammed on the brakes and turned around. "Ted, what did you do?"
    My fault again. "Vicki thinks she saw the same woman she was dreaming about," I explained.
    Mom looked from me to Vicki to me. Finally she said, "Working at the museum?"
    I nodded.
    Mom bit her lip, considering. "What does she look like?"
    "Dark," Vicki said. "Dark, like Marella—but mean."
    I nodded. "Dark eyes. Dark hair."
    "Dark skin," Vicki added. "Like Bill Cosby, except that he's nice."
    That was wrong. "Maybe Italian or Hispanic," I corrected. "Not African American."
    "Like Bill Cosby," Vicki insisted.
    I shook my head for Mom to see.
    "And she was old," Vicki continued, "like Aunt Rose."
    Mom said, "Rose would be delighted to hear that." She looked at me.
    "About Ms. DiBella's age." Ms. DiBella is my teacher, fresh out of college last year.
    "Were you two looking at the same person?" Mom asked.
    I remembered how Vicki had been cowering in the corner, not even looking at the woman. "How was she dressed?" I asked Vicki.
    "Long black dress." Vicki rubbed her hands over her arms, indicating full-length sleeves. "A black bonnet that tied under her chin."
    "It was the costume that was the same," I explained to Mom. "There was a woman on the elevator done up like Susan B. Anthony. But it wasn't the same woman as your ghost, Vicki."
    "There is no ghost," Mom said, annoyed with me even though Vicki calmed down instantly.
    The car behind us honked.
    Mom started driving again. "I'm glad you realize that the museum woman isn't anybody to be afraid of,"
she said to Vicki. "But there is no such thing as a ghost. And it's very bad of Ted to tell you there is."
    "Me?" I said. "How come I always get the blame?"
    "I don't want to hear any more about it," Mom said.
    But when we got home, she wouldn't let Vicki play outside by herself, and that night she and Dad let Vicki sleep in their room.

CHAPTER 6
I Take Back What I Said about Zach Being the Only Weird One in the Family
    EVER SINCE OUR PARENTS started working such long hours, the only time we can all make it to church together "as a family"—"as a family" is one of my father's favorite phrases—is the Saturday evening mass. Sunday mornings, Dad is gone before the rest of us are up, then Mom's got to go to the coffee shop to serve the Sunday brunch crowd. Zach—favorite child that he is—gets to stay home, alone, or he can visit with his friends, so long as he lets Mom know where he is. Vicki and I, of course, are too young to be left on our own, so we get dropped off at the crack of dawn on the doorstep of my aunt and uncle. And then, lucky Vicki and me, we get to go to mass all over again with Uncle Bob and Aunt Rose and Cousin Jackie.
    Excuse me; she would prefer
Jaclyn.
    It used to be Jackie, but apparently thirteen-year-olds are too sophisticated for nicknames. Now she insists
on Jaclyn. Which is why—whenever her parents aren't there—I try to remember to call her Jac.
    Jackie and I used to get along fairly well, although—since she's two years older—she's always had a tendency to boss me around. But now that she's reached the ripe old age of teenagehood, she doesn't want anything to do with me. And she's no more pleased about being stuck with my company on Sundays than I am about being stuck with hers.
    "Lisa invited me over," I heard her tell Aunt Rose, just as she'd told her each of the two previous Sundays since we'd started this.
    "You have to stay here and entertain your cousin Ted," Aunt Rose answered, her standard reply.
    "But you let Vicki go next door and play with Susan," Jackie pointed out, yet again.
    "That's different," Aunt Rose said. Ah, family tradition.
    And Jackie came back stomping her feet and giving me looks that said, "Why don't you do the family a favor and drop dead?"
    I'd just as soon watch basketball on TV with Uncle Bob, even though I'm not crazy about sports, except football when the Buffalo