How Curiosity Killed the Cat and the Ghost Was Brought Back

A Visit to Salem

For the first time in a while, Kat didn't immediately seek out Casper to recap on the events of one another's day. She headed for her room as soon as she stepped into the manor. She kicked off her shoes, let her backpack drop to the floor, and flung her jacket over the back of her desk chair, all before letting herself sink down into the blankets of her bed.

An hour had passed by the time her dad knocked at the door to announce dinner. She gave the usual excuse of "something, something, homework" and she was off the hook. Sounds from the dining room table managed to make their way into her room. No amount of time spent living in Whipstaff was enough to withstand Stretch, Stinkie, and Fatso's eating habits. Her hands lazily reached out and took her walkman from the edge of the bedside table. One press of a button was enough to drown everything out.

Kat couldn't tell if she had been asleep for hours or a few minutes before she was disturbed by a draft. It was just as recognizable as a voice or a scent. She didn't have to open her eyes to know he was there. Kat rolled to her side and shoved her head under a pillow.

"Last chance for dinner until it's gone"

"No thanks," her voice came out muffled through the pillow.

"Suit yourself," he mumbled.

The music stopped. Kat refused to get up to hit rewind. Whatever it took for him to get the message. Without any other distraction, Kat struggled to ignore the sounds of Casper's tinkering with knick-knacks on her dresser and flipping through pages of novels from her bookcase.

She had spent her entire day expecting the silent treatment. The sudden switch in tone was so juxtaposed with the night of their fight that it was almost unnerving.

"How was school?" he asked.

"Same as usual."

"Excited for the field trip?"

She pushed away the mound of bedsheets. "What's with the small talk? I thought you were mad at me."

Casper blinked. He set a figurine back on its shelf. "Why would I be mad at you?"

She felt the start of a pounding headache. "Last night. The lighthouse."

"The lighthouse. . ."

Unbelievable. He really couldn't remember. The longer Casper struggled to catch up with his memory, the more her blood boiled.

"Oh," his eyes widened. "I didn't realize-"

"It's fine," she snapped, "I'm over it."

"I'm so sorry. I never should've left like that."

"Well, you did." Kat slipped back down into the bedsheets, burrowing deeper this time.

She didn't feel bad anymore. She was tired of excusing everything because "he's just a kid." Most kids know better. No more sparing his feelings. If she was hurt, she was going to make it known, and he was going to have to live with it.

Warmth flooded back into the room. Casper was gone. The anger dissipated. It didn't feel any better to get things off her chest. She felt numb. She reached for her Walkman and hit 'rewind'.

* * *

A sign outside of the museum's doors advertised the latest exhibit, 'Salem brought to Maine.' Kat followed along with her classmates, with Ms. Buckley at the lead and an extra volunteering teacher at the back of the group. Security guards exchanged weary looks at the sight of an approaching crowd of teenagers. Ms. Buckley clapped her hands to draw attention. The chattering grew softer, but still far from silent. Kat lifted by the tips of her toes to get a better look.