The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs by Cynthia DeFelice

explained to her father what had happened and how she had left Hoover in the bedroom with the door closed. Together, they got in the car and went back to Mr. Henry’s house.
    In the kitchen Mr. Nichols said, “You stay here, Al. I’ll go up.”
    Allie listened to his footsteps ascend the stairs and cross the floor to Mr. Henry’s room. She heard the door open and her father’s muffled voice softly calling Hoover’s name. Then, to her astonishment, her father said jovially, “Well, hello, Hoover, old girl! How are you, big puppy? You okay now, girl? You gave Allie quite a scare, you know. Come on downstairs. That’s it, come on. Your supper’s waiting. Oh yes, what a good girl.”
    Allie listened, amazed, as her father and Hoover came downstairs. Hoover bounded into the kitchen, her ears eagerly perked, her tail wagging happily. But before Allie could open her mouth, Hoover’s entire demeanor changed. Her tail went between her legs, her ears flattened against her head, and her legs stiffened as she came abruptly to a halt. Then she huddled behind Mr. Nichols’s legs, alternately whimpering and barking in short, sharp bursts.
    â€œDad!” Allie wailed. “What’s wrong with her?”
    â€œI don’t know, Al,” he said, looking baffled. “She was fine until—”
    â€œUntil she saw
me
!” Allie cried. “But, Dad, I didn’t do anything to her, honest! Why is she acting like that? Why is she scared of me?”
    â€œYou didn’t do anything, Allie. She’s confused for some reason. Who knows why? Listen, why don’t you wait in the car? I’ll get her settled down, see if I can get her to eat something, and then we’ll go.”
    Dejectedly, Allie went out and sat in the car. She had always credited animals, especially dogs, especially Hoover, with having a natural sense about people. Dogs seemed to know instinctively who was good and who was bad, who deserved their loyalty and love, and who didn’t. It made Allie feel awful to have Hoover act as if she were the worst bad guy in the entire Galactic Warriors universe.
    She’d been rejected by her best friend. Now she’d been spurned by a dog. The only person outside her family who really cared about her was a ghost. The memory of John Walker’s sympathetic smile helped to soothe the aching place in Allie’s heart.

Eighteen
    It took Allie a long time to get to sleep. Her brain felt like a blender, with terrible thoughts whirling round and round inside. Then, to her surprise, it was eight o’clock in the morning. She must have slept, after all.
    She got out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen, where she fixed herself a bowl of cereal. She would have liked some company other than her own depressing thoughts, but the rest of the family slept late on Sundays.
    Finally, her parents came down. Her mother began mixing pancake batter, and her father sat beside her at the table and said, “Would you like me to go over and check on Hoover this morning, Allie-Cat?”
    â€œI guess so, Dad,” Allie said glumly. “I don’t want to torture her by making her see
me
again.”
    â€œCheer up,” said her dad. “When Mr. Henry gets home, I’m sure she’ll start acting normal again.”
    â€œI hope you’re right,” said Allie, trying to smile back at her father.
    â€œI think I’ll run over there now, then. I’ll be back for the final batch of pancakes.”
    â€œOkay, Dad. Thanks.”
    The phone began to ring as Mr. Nichols pulled the front door shut behind him. Allie answered, “Hello?”
    â€œThis is Alarm Services. Is Mrs. Ann Nichols there?”
    â€œJust a minute, please.”
    Allie listened while her mother spoke quickly, then hung up.
    â€œThe alarm went off over at the store,” Mrs. Nichols said, pushing her hair, still mussed from sleep, from her forehead. “I