The Ghost in the Third Row Read Free Page B

standing outside the theater waiting for our parents to pick us up.
    Before I could ask her why she felt that way a battered blue Volkswagen bumped into the curb in front of us. “That’s my dad,” said Chris. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow night.” She scrambled into the car and rolled down the window. “Assuming the ghost doesn’t get you first!” she cried as her father began to pull away. Then she tried to laugh a deep, spooky laugh. Only it came out more like a cackle.
    I was alone in front of the theater. Actually, Melissa was standing beside me. But as far as I was concerned, that still meant I was without human company.
    To my surprise, she actually spoke to me. “I’ve got my lines all memorized,” she said. “Do you?”
    Before I could answer, a silver BMW slid in next to the curb. Without waiting for me to answer her question, Melissa walked to the car. I thought she was going to leave without even saying goodbye. But just as she was about to get into the car, she turned to me and said, “Try sneaking a breath two beats before that note you’re having trouble with. It might help.”
    She slid into the car and slammed the door before I could say either “Thank you” or “Bug off,” which were the two responses I was considering. The BMW pulled out into traffic.
    As I was standing there, it started to rain. I was tired. I was hungry. And I had to go to the bathroom.
    â€œCome on, Dad,” I said, bouncing on one foot and then the other. “Get me out of this place.”
    He didn’t come.
    Five minutes went by, and he still hadn’t come. I was starting to feel as if I might explode.
    I looked back through the glass doors of the theater. A few people still lingered inside the lobby. I could see Edgar, Gwendolyn, Paula, and Alan. They seemed to be arguing about something. I didn’t want to intrude. But I had to use the bathroom.
    Moving quietly, I slipped through the doors and headed for the stairway that led up to the bathrooms. Nobody seemed to notice me.
    The mezzanine where the bathrooms were located was like half a second floor. Part of it was cut away, and it was surrounded by a railing, so I could look down into the lobby.
    I wasn’t too thrilled by the fact that the lights were out up there. But by sticking to the railing, I got enough light from the lower level to see where I was going. Trying to kind of glide along, so I wouldn’t make too much noise, I passed above the group on the first floor.
    â€œNot good for the cast!” I heard Edgar saying. His voice was low, but fierce. I was dying to stop there and eavesdrop for a while. But I had to get to the bathroom!
    The lights were out there, too. But once I was inside the door, it took only a moment of fumbling to find the switch.
    If I had had any common sense, I would have taken care of my business, run back down the stairs, and headed for the street. But common sense was never one of my strong points. At least, that was what my mother had always claimed, before she left. So she probably wouldn’t have been surprised at what happened after I left the bathroom.
    The funny thing is, it still surprises me. I mean, I’m not usually all that bold and brave. And when you consider what had already happened in the theater that night, I should have been shaking all over. But when I spotted that little sign over the door that led to the balcony, I just couldn’t resist sneaking up to take a look. I had admired the balcony from the stage the first night of rehearsals. I also knew it was off-limits, except when the theater had some attraction that really packed the house.
    I figured I might never have a better chance to see it. Even so, I hesitated for a moment, wondering if my father had gotten there yet. But then I decided that I had had to wait for him, so it wouldn’t hurt him to wait another minute or two for me.
    Taking a deep