The Ghost in the Third Row Read Free

Nine?”
    I blushed. I had gotten so distracted that I missed my cue.
    I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Paula began to play again. Remembering a trick my chorus teacher had taught me, I tried to imagine the note I kept messing up coming out clear and bell-like.
    The note was only two measures away. I belted out the words “on the stage!” and reached for the note as if my life depended on it.
    I was lucky it didn’t; I would have been dead on the spot.
    Paula put her head on the keyboard and groaned. Melissa snorted. I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks.
    â€œYou’d better work on it at home for a while,” said Paula softly.
    I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
    Just then Edgar came bounding into the room. He had a pencil tucked behind one ear, and he was carrying a clipboard. “Well,” he said, “how goes it, troops?”
    He looked so eager and enthusiastic I couldn’t bear for him to find out I was letting him down.
    â€œScram, Edgar,” said Paula in a tired voice. “We’re not ready for you to hear us yet.”
    â€œIn fact, we probably never will be,” whispered Melissa.
    I thought it would be nice if the ceiling fell in on her right then.
    Edgar’s smile faded a little. “Paula,” he said, “we’re using this number for the radio spot. It has to be ready by next week!”
    I thought Paula was going to explode. “Next week ?” she screeched. “The show doesn’t open for nearly two months! Now you listen to me, Edgar Lonis—”
    Paula’s tirade was interrupted by a scream from the hallway.
    I had heard kids scream on the playground all my life. And I’d heard scream queens in the movies. But that was the first time I had ever heard a real-life scream of terror. I thought my skin was going to crawl right off my body.
    Have you ever been watching a movie when they stop the projector but keep the picture on the screen? For a minute everyone just freezes in some weird position. Then the projector starts again, and everyone bounces into action.
    It was like that in the little rehearsal room. For a minute after we heard that scream, no one moved at all. Then everyone bolted for the door. Chris and I were the last ones through. Melissa was first, naturally. A small crowd had already gathered in the hall by the time we got there.
    â€œStand back! Give her air!” That was Edgar, trying to push his way through the cluster of actors and production people.
    As they moved aside, I could see who had been screaming. It was Lydia Crane, the beautiful woman who had the starring role in the show.
    Lydia was stretched out on the floor. Alan Bland, Paula’s writing partner, was kneeling behind Lydia. He had placed her head on his knees. Ken Abbott, the handsome, dark-haired leading man, was bending over her, patting her cheek as though he was trying to wake her up.
    Lydia’s eyes were wide open, but I had the feeling she wasn’t seeing any of us. It was almost as if she was looking into another world.
    Edgar reached down and put his hand on her arm. First she flinched away from him; then she turned and looked into his eyes.
    â€œThe Woman in White,” she whispered. Her voice was husky with fear. The sound of it made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Edgar, it was the Woman in White!”
    She buried her face in her hands and began to sob.

CHAPTER FOUR
    The View from the Balcony
    Do you know what frisson means?
    If you do, you’re ahead of me. I only learned it because my fifth-grade teacher used it all the time. He was a true horror-movie freak, and he decided if a film was any good by whether or not it provoked a frisson in him. Anyway, it’s a word the French came up with to describe that tingle that skitters down your spine and across your skin when something truly horrifying happens.
    Frisson is the word I always think of when I remember the look in