Lesson: Ghost Hunters: The Mystery of the Abandoned Attic

Lesson Topic: Ghost Hunters: The Mystery of the Abandoned Attic

Ghost Hunters: The Mystery

of the Abandoned Attic
Written by Joy Kita
Illustrated by Sonya O. Lee

Chapter One: The Club

Some people call us detectives. Some prefer to use our professional title of Ghost Hunters. Others just call us strange. We got used to the
negative attention a year ago when we first started the company and managed to shut down a local business that was conning people out of
their valuables. Our lives have not been the same since. Our fans think of us as heroes, but there are plenty of people who see us merely as
trouble-making kids. It’s not every day four adolescents outsmart a bunch of adults, though lately it has been happening a lot more often.

When asked why we do it, I like to quote my favorite historical figure, Teddy Roosevelt. He was the 26th president of the United States, and
he said:

“In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing. The worst thing you can do is nothing.”
 Lexie says that is another example of me trying to look smarter than I really am, but I don't always listen to her. My name is Bobby Trax,
and I am the first member of the Ghost Hunters club. Lexie is my Lieutenant. She is in charge of appointments and details. We don't always get
along, but that doesn't really matter since she is the smartest student in fifth grade. When you are hunting ghosts or criminals, it pays to have
the best. That’s why Liam Nixon is my First Captain. He may not be the smartest, but he is definitely the toughest. That leaves Florence, who is
definitely the bravest. When it comes to ghosts and scary places, the girl does not flinch.

We came together out of a mutual interest in adventure and detective stories. Since the inception of Ghost Hunters, we have solved three
mysteries and one robbery, none with a single ghost.

Chapter Two: The Mystery

“What do we know?” Lexie asks. She has her marker poised in front of the white board. She pushes her brown-framed glasses higher on
her nose and waits.

“Mrs. Teal says the attic lights go on around 10:05 every night,” I say.

We are all in Lexie’s basement, the official headquarters for the Ghost Hunters. Her mom has brought us a bowl of popcorn and serves us
all root beer.

Liam stretches out his long legs and scratches his head. “Isn’t it strange that it’s always 10:05? That’s pretty precise for a ghost.”

“No one said anything about a ghost,” Florence says. She is on the floor propped up against the couch.

“True, but we all know Big Bobby wants it to be.” He flicks popcorn at my face.

Lexie clears her throat. “Can we get back to this already? I have a math test to study for.”

We all start laughing.

 “What?” With her round glasses and quizzical expression, she looks just like an owl.

“Hoot, hoot,” Liam hisses between guffaws.

Florence and I double over with laughter, unable to catch our breath.

“Real mature, guys. Keep it up, and I will kick you all out of my basement, and solve Mrs. Teal’s ghost problem by myself.”

“Aha!” I point in jubilation. “You think it might be a ghost, too.”

She turns her back to me and begins writing her own notes.

Time: 10:05 PM
Location: Abandoned house across the street from Mrs. Teal
• 567 Hill St.

Facts:
• Police don’t believe her
• House has been empty for three months
• House fire in the past

The mystery irks us like sharks in a kiddie pool. The black letters on the white board are an ominous message we cannot ignore.

“This sure looks like the work of a ghost to me.” I grab a handful of popcorn and shove it in my mouth. “Mmmrrammy.”

“Ew.” Florence turns away from me and pretends to gag.

“Don’t try to talk with your mouth full,” Lexie says.

“Dude, you have a way with the girls. You’ll have to give me pointers.”

I swallow and take a gulp of root beer. “I said, ‘FINALLY!’ ”

 Chapter Three: The Investigation

It takes two nights to plan out the investigation. We have to coordinate our stories and get permission from our parents. We leave out some
details such as breaking into the fire-damaged, abandoned house, but we do admit that we will visit with Mrs. Teal to get a full profile. This
seems to satisfy all the adults, and we are off to investigate our first possible ghost case.

“Mrs. Teal, what can you tell us about the previous owners of the abandoned house?” Florence sits next to the older woman and speaks in
a gentle manner that soothes rather than startles.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much. I moved in only a week ago, after my husband passed, and the house was already empty. I see lights every
night and wonder if my sweet Harold is trying to send me a message. Lights should not be going on and off in an abandoned house.”

Liam and I share a look. Mrs. Teal does not appear to have all of her own lights on. Maybe this is a case of senile loneliness. I check my
watch. It is 10:01, so we will know more in a few minutes.

“Have you seen anyone lurking around that doesn’t belong?” Lexie isn’t as graceful with her questions as Florence. She focuses on the
details more than the person, and her sharp tone tells me she has the same suspicion Liam and I do.

“I haven’t seen a single soul.”

“Look!”

We all follow Florence’s finger to the place it points to across the street. There is a light in the attic of 567 Hill Street. By the time we
convince Mrs. Teal that we will be safe while investigating, the light is gone.

I am afraid the house might fall down if we touch it. Charred wood shutters frame the red brick shell, the front door is closed and
deadlocked, and deep grooves from a firefighter’s axe lace through it. The back door is locked as well, but a window five feet above our heads
is missing, the frame black with soot.
 “Interesting back yard,” Liam says.

There is nothing there but a bed of mud.

“The fire trucks must have torn up the yard trying to put out the fire.”

Liam offers his shoulders for us to climb on so we can reach the window while he waits outside. We hike ourselves up and into the house,
dropping into what was once the kitchen.

“It’s creepy that there is still furniture in here.” Lexie crosses her arms tightly in front of her and stays close to Florence.

The attic is full of dusty furniture and trunks. It is like walking into a scary movie with headless mannequins and antique mirrors. I stay close
to Florence, too, since she never gets scared.

“This might be our first clue,” she says, squatting by an old open trunk. She pokes at a clump of mud on the ground and compares it to the
mud on my shoes.

“Sorry, Bobby, this footprint doesn’t belong to a ghost.”

I am not too disappointed. Someone has broken into an abandoned house, and we are the only ones that know about it.

We meet on Saturday morning at the library. Lexie has brought a yellowed picture from the attic, with the words Garrison, 1945 written on
the back. The young couple in the picture is standing in front of the house on Hill Street, a "Sold" sign behind them.

“So all we need to do is check the newspaper files for the name Garrison and hopefully we will find something.”

Chapter Four: Stakeout

 Three hours later, we leave the library hungry and jubilant. The Garrisons bought the house in 1945 and were hospitalized after the fire that
started in the kitchen.

“The police say it was an accident.” Liam tosses his baseball in the air, catches it, and repeats the action.

“I don’t think so,” I say. The one thing I bring to the group is my infallible instincts. I am rarely wrong when I listen to the voice in my head.

“Isn’t that the librarian?” Florence asks, pointing to a woman on the other side of the street.

We watch the woman leave, her heels clicking against the sidewalk like angry beetles. She hops into her car and drives past us, talking on
her cell phone.

“Did you guys see her tires?” Lexie asks tightly, with her hands on her hips.

“Mud!” the rest of say in unison.

We look at the sign on the library door. Closing time is 9:30pm.

This time, we tell our parents the truth. We are staking out the house on Hill Street to catch a potential thief. The only one of us that isn’t
allowed to participate is Florence, but she sneaks out anyway.

“Why did your parents let you come?” she asks from our hiding spot under the deck.

“Mine didn’t believe me,” I say. I brush what feels like a spider out of my hair and try not to think of the creepy crawlies under the deck.

At 9:45 a car pulls into the backyard from an old access point in the forest behind the house.

“That’s her car.”

“She’s not alone.”

There is a man sitting next to the librarian, and from the looks of their stern expressions, they are in a heated debate. We wait until they
have worked themselves up the old trellis toward the open window, and then we signal Liam and Lexie in the forest with a flashlight. Five
minutes later we see the lights flashing on a police car as it rounds the corner to the backyard.
 “I said no lights!”

“Relax, son. We got them surrounded.” The detective ushers us to the safety of the patrol car while he and three others smash down the
back door.

Ten minutes later it is all over.

...

“This is the Garrision family’s nephew?” I ask, trying to piece it together.

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” the man cries. “It was my wife who made me do it.”

The librarian sneers at him and turns to us. “How dare you brats interfere with our plan. If it wasn’t for you, we would have gotten away with
it.”

The police find gasoline and rags in the trunk of their car. They both confess to the crime, insisting that they had only intended to force the
Garrisons out of the house. They were not expecting the fire to blaze out of control.

“The money is rightfully mine,” he says, as they pull him into the patrol car.

“Ghost Hunters win again,” I say with a smile.

“We might want to change our name,” Florence says.

“Maybe to Treasure Hunters,” says Liam, staring thoughtfully at the small attic window.