The Ghost of Whispering Willow. Amanda M. Thrasher

more importantly, about the girls being crazy. This would likely be the rumor, the boys decided, if they spoke of such things anyway. So, waiting was a smart move, and Andy could out-wait anybody. Stewart would rather pull his teeth out than to talk to the girls about something this important.

      What the boys didn’t know was that the girls had already agreed not to tell anybody about what they’d seen. They were on their own mission, but they just needed some help.

      The bell rang, and the boys headed off to art class. Kendall was in their class as well. Stewart told Andy to keep an eye on her. “Look for clues, observe detective-like, without alerting her,” he said, and they watched every move she made. It was too early to tell if the girls had seen or knew anything worth reporting, but their message was definitely unsettling. The boys had deliberately sat in the center of the room, a premeditated move. The girls circled the middle art table and sat on the opposite side of the room. The way they circled made Andy nervous. They knew something was up; he could feel it.

      “What’s up?” Stewart said, as Zack sat down next to him. “You up for an assignment after school?” he asked.

      Zack grinned, “Is it what I think it is?”

      “Oh, yeah,” whispered Andy.

      Stewart glanced at Andy’s paper, and Andy could tell that Stewart had no idea what he had drawn. Before he could ask what it was, Andy said, “Abstract,” and then he grinned. “Works every time!”

      Stewart burst out laughing, and that was that. Mr. St. Claire took one look at him and, to his relief, sent him out of the room! He hated art anyway.

      3 A Presence:

      “I can see you.”

      The bus made great time, which was a good thing, since it took at least fifteen minutes to get to the Willows. Stewart dropped his backpack on the kitchen floor and opened the refrigerator door. He grabbed a juice box and a cheese stick, his favorites, then left a note on the table. Be right back, it said.

      He ran all the way to the Willows with his heart pounding. At first, he thought it was because he was running faster than usual, but he soon realized it was because he was nervous. His brow was sweaty, and so were the palms of his hand. He broke down and walked a while. Come on, dork, he told himself, trying to calm his nerves. You’ve gathered equipment a hundred times. Do it like you always do: gather, reset, and leave.

      Stewart had a sick feeling in his gut. He was worried that whatever had touched Andy would be watching him, just like it had Andy. He pushed the thoughts out of his head and continued to walk toward the woods, wishing Andy were with him. His eyes darted back and forth as he walked the path, and Stewart thought the woods seemed eerily quiet. There wasn’t a single breeze to be had.

      His instincts suddenly told him to stop. Stewart listened to the stillness, and his hand smeared the beads of sweat across his face as he wiped his brow. Just keep walking, he told himself, forcing one foot in front of the other, in an attempt to shake his nerves. Stewart picked out familiar sounds and focused on those. He recognized the sound of the stream and the bullfrogs croaking in the distance, a bird every now and then fluttering from tree limb to tree limb, and the occasional rustle amongst the bushes. It was working; his nerves started to settle. He was ready to do what he had come to do: gather the data, reset the equipment, and, hopefully, leave without an incident.

      The surveillance location was deep in the woods, to the left of the stream, behind the great big dip. It was surrounded by lots of weeping willow trees. This was how the woods had gotten its name in the first place: the Whispering Willow Woods.

      Camera Three had been the hardest camera to place. It was located in a log that had fallen years ago, landing directly over the dip. The log was charred, a sure sign it had been hit by lightning – unless you were talking to Andy. According to Andy, it was the heat from an alien exhaust craft. Stewart didn’t buy that, but whatever.

      The boys always placed Camera Three deep into the log and protected it with a waterproof cover. They had pointed it toward the largest clump of willows on top of the hill. Getting the camera into the log was always easier than getting it out. They’d lie flat on their stomachs, crawl into the log as far as they possibly could get, and push the camera deep inside the log with their hands. Finally, they would position the camera with a long narrow rod, which was actually a pool brush borrowed from Stewart’s backyard. They had borrowed it so often, in fact, that Stewart’s father had finally replaced it and had allowed the boys to keep it as a permanent part of their “hunt toolkit” for the investigation.

      Getting the camera out was never easy. Once, Andy got stuck in the log, and the boys nearly had to recruit a neighbor for help. They were scared to death that if their parents knew what they were doing, that would be it – no more shoving cameras in logs. To prevent that situation from ever occurring again, Stewart had taken the job of setting up and retrieving Camera Three. He had a slighter build than Andy. The boys couldn’t move the camera; the location they had was too good. This had been proven over and over by the data they’d collected. Camera Three stayed put.

      Stewart stood behind the log and tightened the homemade hook. Slowly, he slid the rod into the log and lay down on his stomach, banging his head on the side of the log as he tried to maneuver the rod. Luckily, he suffered no scratches; they were much harder to explain to his parents. It took several tries, but Stewart finally managed to hook Camera Three. He wrapped the camera in a cloth and placed it in a black padded camera bag.

      Camera Two was wrapped in brown carpet that actually looked like bark; it was suspended high in the branches of what they referred to as W1, the “Apparition Catcher.” It was the same location where they had seen the shadow figure for the very first time. It had been standing under that willow and seemed to walk toward them, only to disappear. When the event had taken place, the boys had frozen; neither of them could speak, not really sure what they had seen. Stewart finally managed a pitiful squeak, but by the time he had, it – the thing – was gone. Too scared to move and barely able to breathe, the boys had both pointed toward the willow at the very same time confirming they’d both seen it. They had been white as ghosts themselves. Still pointing, “Yep,” they had both said at the very same time. “I saw it too!” And right then and there the hunt had officially begun. They’d been so scared that they’d run home as fast as they could without discussing their experiences with each other until later. When they had discussed it, they had come to the same conclusion. The Whispering Willow Woods were definitely haunted, and they were going to prove it! The boys had gone back to the very same location several times, but they hadn’t seen whatever it was again. But they did continue to observe the strangest things: sudden temperature changes and odd, unexplained sounds and noises. There were other things as well, too difficult to explain, but they wanted to know more, find out what was going on.

      The latest physical interaction between “it” and Andy had been huge. They had reached a milestone in their investigation. Now, if they had captured any data to back it up, that would be gold!

      Stewart climbed the tree quickly where Camera Two was placed. It was getting late, and the shadows were long. Once he retrieved it, he made his way back down the tree. One camera left and he was still okay, no freaky experience to be had. He was glad, too; he’d rather have his buddy there with him if he were going to have an actual physical experience. Safety in numbers, he thought. It made him feel better. Breathe . . . just keep breathing . . . he told himself, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand.

      Camera One could be tricky, since it was located between two boulders that sat on a tiny speck of sod right in the middle of the brook. It was the one camera that the boys constantly worried about. It was easier to spot than the others, although the locations of all three cameras had been chosen carefully and with purpose, each camera placed at a precise angle, with the span of the other lenses