every night? Itâs almost three-thirty in the morning. They wonât wake up till their alarm goes off at seven. Trust me.â
*Â *Â *
We crept up the stairs to Jamieâs bedroom, leaning hard on the banister so the steps wouldnât creak. We tiptoed into her room; it was all pale yellow and white with an old X-Files poster framed on the wall.
Jamie shut the door carefully. I slid my arms around her waist and started to kiss her, but she pushed me away. âNot now, Lewis. Weâve got to check this out.â
We both dropped down on the edge of her bed. She removed the cassette from her tape recorder, turned it over, and slipped it back. Then she pushed play.
I could hear the wind on the tape. Then I heard Jamie and me talking. I was complaining about how cold I was. Then there was a long silence.
âFast forward,â I said. âThereâs nothing there.â I reached for the tape player, but she slapped my hand away.
âJust shut up and listen. I felt something, Lewis. A presence. Maybe it was Cindy. Maybe she left something for us on the tape.â
So we sat in silence and listened to the wind on the tape. I couldnât help it. I started to yawn. I wanted to curl up and go to sleep.
I felt myself drifting off . . . when the voice came on.
I sat up straight. âWhat was that?â
Jamie let out a gasp. She jumped to her feet, alert now. She gripped the tape player tightly in her hand. And we heard the voice again.
The voice of a ghost. . . .
3
âBack it up. Back it up,â I said, my voice suddenly hoarse and breathless.
Jamie stared at me. âYou heard it too?â
I nodded.
âI thought maybe I imagined it. The voice . . . it seems so far away,â Jamie said. âI couldnât tell if it was Cindy or not.â She rewound the tape and we listened again, pressing our ears close to the little speaker.
A roar of wind. And then a womanâs voice, faint, so distant, rising over the wind.
âMine. . . . Did you take mine?â
I think thatâs what she said. The voice was so soft.
I swallowed hard. My throat suddenly felt dry and tight. I grabbed Jamieâs arm. âPlay it again.â
âSshhh.â She shook her head.
The tape rolled. Silence. Then the womanâs voice again.
â. . . pay. If you took what is mine, you will pay.â
Then silence.
Jamie and I stood frozen in the middle of her room, staring at the tape player. My heart was pounding. I felt kinda light-headed, as if maybe I was dreaming this.
A voice from the other side ?
Jamie gripped the tape player tightly. I could see that her hands were shaking.
We listened to the silence. Occasional bursts of wind.
Then I heard Jamieâs voice on the tape. A whisper: âI feel something. Iâm serious, Lewis. I feel something strange, something very close.â
She pushed stop. âI was right,â she said. âThere was someone close. That woman. I could feel her there, Lewis. I knew I was right.â
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I didnât know what to say. I mean, I donât believe in ghosts. At least, I didnât believe in ghostsâuntil then.
âPlay it again,â I said finally.
Jamie rewound it, and we listened to the faraway voice again. And again.
â. . . pay. If you took what is mine, you will pay.â
I shivered. âWhat does that mean? What is she saying?â
Jamie shook her head. âShe sounds so angry.â She set the tape player down on the bed. âItâs not Cindy. Do you think maybe itâs someone from the Fear family?â
âI . . . I just canât believe we recorded the voice of someone whoâs dead, â I said.
We stared at each other. We were both thinking hard. Thinking about ghosts. . . .
Jamie rewound the tape, and once again we listened to the windâand then the