CHAPTER 1
A Ghost Story
S ix-year-old Benny Alden stood outside his house in Greenfield, watching the moon rise. An owl hooted. Oak and maple trees rustled in the wind, and a few raindrops sprinkled Benny on the nose.
Benny shivered. In the moonlight, his front yard looked so spooky, he was almost sure he could see a ghost. And Benny definitely believed in ghosts.
It was early November, just a few days after Halloween. The leaves on the trees were yellow and brown, and many of the branches were almost bare. In the mornings, frost lay on the ground. The perfect season for ghosts, Benny thought.
“Benny, dinner’s ready!” called a familiar voice. It was Benny’s ten-year-old sister, Violet.
“Coming!” Benny called back. He took one more look at the moon before he raced inside.
“I’m starving,” Benny announced to his family, who were already beginning to seat themselves at the long dining room table.
“You’re always hungry, Benny,” Henry reminded him with a smile. Henry was Benny’s fourteen-year-old brother, and he could never resist teasing Benny a little.
Tonight Mrs. McGregor, the Aldens’ housekeeper, had made one of Benny’s favorite meals: spaghetti and meatballs, and her special homemade brownies for dessert.
Benny quickly slid into his seat next to his sister Jessie.
“How many meatballs, Benny?” asked Jessie as she put spaghetti on Benny’s plate.
“Oh, maybe four,” Benny answered.
“We can always count on you to have a good appetite, Benny,” Grandfather remarked.
“I’ll say,” Henry agreed.
Jessie laughed but gave Benny all the meatballs he wanted. At age twelve, Jessie was the oldest girl in her family, and she often acted like a mother to her orphaned brothers and sister.
After their parents died Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny had lived in an abandoned boxcar in the woods because they thought they had nowhere else to go. They did not know that their grandfather was looking everywhere for them. When he finally found his missing grandchildren, he was overjoyed. And he lost no time inviting them to live with him — an offer the Aldens were happy to accept. Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny were especially pleased that Grandfather let them bring the old boxcar to his house, too. It was now in Grandfather’s backyard, and the children often used it as a playhouse on rainy days.
Outside, the wind shook the trees, and a branch banged against the house.
Violet shuddered. “It’s awfully windy tonight. Is there a storm coming?”
As if in answer, the lights in the house flickered but did not go out.
“The papers did say there would be a storm,” Grandfather told his family as he stirred his tea.
“The kind with lots of thunder and lightning?” Benny asked hopefully.
“Nothing that dramatic, I’m afraid,” Grandfather said.
“That’s good.” Violet sounded relieved. She looked around the dining room. The chandelier cast a soft glow on the walls and over the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. The smell of homemade tomato sauce mingled with that of the brownies baking in the oven.
As Mrs. McGregor cleared away the dinner plates, Grandfather leaned back in his chair. “I have some news,” he told his grandchildren.
“What?” asked Benny, holding his cup in midair.
“Well...” Grandfather began slowly. “My friend Seymour Curtis called today. He’d like us to come visit him on his farm sometime this month.”
“Is he the one who’s always sending us fruit from his orchard?” asked Henry.
“He’s the one,” Grandfather answered, nodding.
“In fact,” Mrs. McGregor added, “we just received a crate of apples from him this afternoon. I’ll probably make apple pies with some of them tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” said Violet and Benny, almost in unison.
“Are there animals on this farm?” Benny wanted to know. “Or do they just grow fruit up there?”
“Oh, there are animals, Benny,” his grandfather assured him. “The main business is
A Ghost Story
S ix-year-old Benny Alden stood outside his house in Greenfield, watching the moon rise. An owl hooted. Oak and maple trees rustled in the wind, and a few raindrops sprinkled Benny on the nose.
Benny shivered. In the moonlight, his front yard looked so spooky, he was almost sure he could see a ghost. And Benny definitely believed in ghosts.
It was early November, just a few days after Halloween. The leaves on the trees were yellow and brown, and many of the branches were almost bare. In the mornings, frost lay on the ground. The perfect season for ghosts, Benny thought.
“Benny, dinner’s ready!” called a familiar voice. It was Benny’s ten-year-old sister, Violet.
“Coming!” Benny called back. He took one more look at the moon before he raced inside.
“I’m starving,” Benny announced to his family, who were already beginning to seat themselves at the long dining room table.
“You’re always hungry, Benny,” Henry reminded him with a smile. Henry was Benny’s fourteen-year-old brother, and he could never resist teasing Benny a little.
Tonight Mrs. McGregor, the Aldens’ housekeeper, had made one of Benny’s favorite meals: spaghetti and meatballs, and her special homemade brownies for dessert.
Benny quickly slid into his seat next to his sister Jessie.
“How many meatballs, Benny?” asked Jessie as she put spaghetti on Benny’s plate.
“Oh, maybe four,” Benny answered.
“We can always count on you to have a good appetite, Benny,” Grandfather remarked.
“I’ll say,” Henry agreed.
Jessie laughed but gave Benny all the meatballs he wanted. At age twelve, Jessie was the oldest girl in her family, and she often acted like a mother to her orphaned brothers and sister.
After their parents died Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny had lived in an abandoned boxcar in the woods because they thought they had nowhere else to go. They did not know that their grandfather was looking everywhere for them. When he finally found his missing grandchildren, he was overjoyed. And he lost no time inviting them to live with him — an offer the Aldens were happy to accept. Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny were especially pleased that Grandfather let them bring the old boxcar to his house, too. It was now in Grandfather’s backyard, and the children often used it as a playhouse on rainy days.
Outside, the wind shook the trees, and a branch banged against the house.
Violet shuddered. “It’s awfully windy tonight. Is there a storm coming?”
As if in answer, the lights in the house flickered but did not go out.
“The papers did say there would be a storm,” Grandfather told his family as he stirred his tea.
“The kind with lots of thunder and lightning?” Benny asked hopefully.
“Nothing that dramatic, I’m afraid,” Grandfather said.
“That’s good.” Violet sounded relieved. She looked around the dining room. The chandelier cast a soft glow on the walls and over the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. The smell of homemade tomato sauce mingled with that of the brownies baking in the oven.
As Mrs. McGregor cleared away the dinner plates, Grandfather leaned back in his chair. “I have some news,” he told his grandchildren.
“What?” asked Benny, holding his cup in midair.
“Well...” Grandfather began slowly. “My friend Seymour Curtis called today. He’d like us to come visit him on his farm sometime this month.”
“Is he the one who’s always sending us fruit from his orchard?” asked Henry.
“He’s the one,” Grandfather answered, nodding.
“In fact,” Mrs. McGregor added, “we just received a crate of apples from him this afternoon. I’ll probably make apple pies with some of them tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” said Violet and Benny, almost in unison.
“Are there animals on this farm?” Benny wanted to know. “Or do they just grow fruit up there?”
“Oh, there are animals, Benny,” his grandfather assured him. “The main business is
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