Chapter One CHAPTER ONE Nana's house doesn't look haunted. The pale yellow Victorian has a gable roof and lots of windows. Skinny white columns support a wraparound porch with decorative trim. There's even a circular tower topped with a weather vane that Olivia says we must call a turret out of respect. I've seen plenty of photos of my great-grandmother's house online, and I'm familiar with its history. Olivia made sure to tell me what happened to the Callahan family when I was old enough to understand. "Wednesday!" Olivia yells from the back of our car as she unloads the trunk. "I can't find the house key. Go let them know we're here." I cross the sidewalk to the black wrought-iron fence surrounding the yard and open the gate. The yard has bare spots even though a brand-new water hose snakes through tall, dry weeds. The porch has a thick layer of dust on its wood-planked floors, and cobwebs fill the corners. I cover my nose to keep from sneezing. Before I can ring the doorbell, Jasmine opens the door and pulls me in for a hug. "You made it!" Her excited voice vibrates against my chest. When she lets me go, Lincoln has joined us on the porch, and he quickly squashes me into another hug. Jasmine runs down the steps to the curb, and Olivia shrieks in happiness. "How was the drive?" Lincoln's dark brown skin radiates in the afternoon light. He and his partner, Jasmine, are Olivia's friends and my godparents. They don't live in Nana's house, but they've been taking care of it while we've been away. "Smooth sailing," I tell him. Lincoln is a familiar face from Olivia's video chats. In person, he smells like sugar like I knew he would. He inherited a bakery and still uses his family's recipes. "Y'all have to forgive the yard." He ducks his head. "Jasmine has been teaching all summer, and I'm always at work. We don't come by here as often as we should." "It doesn't look that bad," I say. "I'm sure Olivia won't mind." Lincoln widens his eyes and lets out a booming laugh. "Don't think I'll get over you calling your mama by her first name." Jasmine and Olivia join us on the porch with arms full of boxes. Both of them have huge grins on their faces. Best friends reunited. "Liv, I see you haven't found your home training yet." Lincoln takes the boxes out of her hands. "Wednesday is still using your government name." "For the record, she can call me Mama or whatever, but only if she wants." My mother's right. She did give me a choice when I was a small kid, but calling her anything but Olivia feels wrong in my mouth. Maybe one day that will change. "Nothing about this surprises me," Jasmine says. "But seriously, Liv. Your grandma wouldn't have liked it." Olivia laughs. "I don't think she would have cared." "Oh, she would have cared. I don't recall you ever calling your grandma Josephine ." Lincoln winks at me before he walks into the house with Olivia's boxes. I follow them inside to a small entry room. A green-tiled fireplace is on one side, and a painted wall with a coat rack is on the other. After admiring the leaded glass of the front door, I move deeper into the house. It has an interesting smell: old paper mixed with warm cooking spices. The crystal chandelier hanging above me looks like the original fixture. Unlike the yard and the porch, the interior of the house is spotless. Olivia looks around with satisfied approval. "Not gonna lie, Liv. I've been so busy, and I knew the place would be a dusty wreck," Jasmine says. "So I called a cleaning service. They pulled the sheets off everything and performed a miracle." We follow Jasmine and Lincoln and gather around the small kitchen island where a large fruit basket is wrapped in plastic and tied with a red ribbon. "Y'all haven't had any problems, right?" Olivia asks. "Tell me the truth." Jasmine gives Lincoln a quick look. "You mean with the Callahan ghost? You think we would be coming to check on this place if he gave us any trouble?" "We know Black folks don't do haunted houses, but it hasn't been a problem for us," Lincoln adds. "Good." Olivia's face relaxes. "Nana promised nothing bad would happen here again." Before my great-grandmother bought this house, it had remained mostly empty--no one would ever stay within its walls for long because the Callahan ghost would drive them away. But when Nana moved in, she gave respect to Caleb Callahan. Maybe this is why some of the rooms have their original fixtures and the house is still painted a pale yellow--an unspoken agreement between the living and the dead. "Liv, you mentioned you had something important to share with us," Lincoln says. "What is it?" Olivia fiddles with the ribbon on the fruit basket before she looks at me, and my stomach gurgles. I slowly nod to give her permission. "It's partly true we decided to come back to Alton because it'll be good for Wednesday to enroll in school and be around people her age. We've been on the road for a while now, but I can do my art anywhere...." Olivia's voice trails off. "What happened, Liv?" Jasmine carefully asks. Olivia reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "Wednesday was using her gift to help a lost spirit like she usually does, but it turned out to be wicked." Jasmine's eyes widen, and Lincoln stares at me with concern. Olivia and I call ghosts by many common names, but only a wicked one can harm the living. They can change their appearance and mimic other ghosts. Most dangerous of all--they like to possess the living who have special talents, including those who can see the dead. "Y'all know Nana was blessed with her gift all her life," Olivia continues. "My mama lost hers. Same with me. That's probably going to happen to Wednesday too, but I don't want to take any more chances on the road." Jasmine and Lincoln know about our family's ability to communicate with ghosts. Olivia has told them about the different types, so they already know how dangerous the wicked ones can be. Olivia has warned me about wicked ghosts too, but I never thought I would ever encounter one. "Where did this happen?" Lincoln's voice is low and quiet. "Arizona. On a campground in the state park not far from Route 191," Olivia answers in a tight voice. A lump in my throat rises as I try to push the memory away, but I'm swooshed back into the dark forest. A ghost of a lost child turning into something else. The hot wave of nausea. Olivia's frantic face. It was the only time I'd ever been truly terrified of the dead. "Are you okay?" Lincoln asks me. His voice pulls me back to the safety of the kitchen. My mouth feels stuffed with cotton, and I swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine." "I got us as far away as possible," Olivia quickly adds. "We drove back to Vegas, and that's when I started making plans to come here. Since then, we haven't had any problems." "Does Desmond know about this?" Jasmine whispers. "I've spoken with him, and he isn't too happy about it. As usual, he has plenty of opinions." Hearing my father's name sends a rush of worry through me. He's never liked the idea of me and Olivia traveling alone and argued it was unsafe. We have video chats because he's in London completing his medical residency. My father is always happy to see me, despite the dark circles under his eyes from his long shifts. His British accent is much stronger now too. We don't talk about my gift at all. It's the topic I dodge with him because I know it makes him uncomfortable. My father has always been a man of pure science, and ghosts are something he's not willing to accept as real. Olivia could never convince him that our family gift was authentic. Jasmine hugs me. "Wednesday, what an awful experience. I'm so glad you're okay." Since that terrible night in the Arizona state park, I haven't seen any ghosts, but I know that will change living in Nana's house and in Alton, one of the oldest cities in Georgia. Olivia has assured me that wicked ghosts are rare. She believes I should honor our family tradition, but I don't know which ghosts I can trust. I'm not sure if I can tell the difference between the ones who are harmless and the ones who want to hurt me, so I've decided not to help any ghosts at all. I'm going to ignore the dead. Excerpted from The Secret Dead Club by Karen Strong All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
