MOLLY GREYSON'S GHOST

Sixteen-year-old Molly Greyson is a California girl. At least she was, until her father got a job in Indiana. Forced to say goodbye to her friends and a life she loves, Molly moves to the Midwest with her parents. During the cross-country trip, she encounters a carnival Gypsy fortune teller machine that issues mysterious warnings aimed directly at her. When the family arrives at the historical Kotter Estate, Molly chooses a peculiar round room as her bedroom. Soon strange things begin to happen. What or who keeps appearing in her bedroom mirror? Are there clues to be found in the musty basement? Will her new boyfriend help her solve the mystery? Can Molly Greyson learn to believe in ghosts?

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CHAPTER 1:

TO avoid any sort of human communication, I sat in the rear of this monstrosity of a vehicle.
I was pouting, but for a very good reason.
My dad's company had transferred him to their newest high-tech architectural facility and promoted him to President.
Great for him. Great for Mom. Not so great for me.
This new job just happened to be located in the Midwest and in Indiana of all places.
Why would anyone want to move from beautiful sunny California to a dreary little state in the middle of the country? Not me. But that was exactly what happened without so much as any consideration to my feelings.
From what my computer told me, Indiana was flat and boring. That meant no beaches and certainly no surfer boys to ogle. Marvelous. I had been uprooted from the only home I had known and moved three quarters of the way across the country, leaving a thriving metropolis with sandy white beaches to live in a little town with nothing but cornfields as far as the eye could see. I was getting ready to start my junior year of high school. I had friends that I had been in school with since first grade. Not to mention my gorgeous boyfriend, Dylan. How could I expect to keep a long distance relationship going until I was eighteen and able to make my own decisions? I was quite certain there were numerous girls just waiting in line to jump at the chance to take my place. All this seemed like child abuse to me.
And how could it get any worse? Well, for one, Dad opted to pass on the complimentary airline tickets and drive this monster the two thousand plus miles to our destination. Not that I wanted to get to Indiana any sooner. He said it would be an opportunity for us to 'see this great country of ours up close and personal'. He also said our house wouldn't be ready for at least a week, so we could take our time. Kind of like a mini-vacation. Yippee. It was hard to see anything burrowed wn in the back seat with a phone glued to my face.
One of the many perks of this promotion, I was told, was this vehicle. I preferred to call it the tank. Technically, it was a SUV, sport utility vehicle. I wasn't certain why we had to have something so huge to get us around Indiana, unless we needed extra protection from the country folk. As much as I detested this vehicle and the length of the trip, I had to admit there were some positive attributes to it. It had built in Wi-Fi, picking up signals from cell towers as we traveled, and a charging port in the armrest of my seat. At least, I kept in constant touch with my now abandoned California friends. They sent pictures of the picnic they had on the beach. Without me. I sent pictures of the backseat of the SUV.
Our first required stop was Las Vegas.
"Come on, Molly," Mom said, as she opened my door.
The scorching hot pavement tossed wavy images onto the side of the gigantic hotel looming before me.
"I'm fine right here." I reached for the door to close it, only to find my dad's hand with a firm grip on the handle.
"Get out of the car and stop pouting," Dad commanded. "Las Vegas is a beautiful place and you're going to enjoy it."
Seemed like lately he was telling me how I felt even though he didn't have a clue about my true feelings.
I wanted to turn around and head west. Instead I was being dragged into a twenty story hotel with fancy fountains and a lobby decorated in gaudy purple velvet and gold tassels. While my parents stood in line to check us in, I flopped down in one of the lobby chairs and let all that purple surround me. Every few minutes I looked up from my phone to see what progress my parents had made. Still in line. For such a fancy place, they certainly were slow.
Bored, I leaned close to the large glass window. I pressed my face against it to get a better view of the 'strip', as tourists referred to it. The hotels went on and on in a never-ending offering of bigger and better attractions. Then I noticed an odd looking video game on the sidewalk.
I slipped out of the hotel and went to check it out. It wasn't a video game. At least none I had ever seen. There was a puppet-like female mannequin encased inside a three sided glass window box. It was life-sized and very strange looking, almost mesmerizing. The paint was beginning to peel away in places from the enchanting face and she was missing the little finger on her right hand. Her clothes were faded and worn, as if she had been in that box for decades without so much as an occasional dusting. She looked like a Gypsy, or at least how I imagined one might look. A dull multi-colored print bandana was tied around her black curly hair. Her clothing must have been very colorful once, but her face was like porcelain. Now she stood in front of a popular hotel in a popular city looking like all the rest of the homeless humans I had seen. Ignored and tossed aside. Not this time. I was going to bring this mechanical marvel to life.
I searched for a switch to put the grand lady into motion. On the side was a slot with instructions to insert only dollar bills. What had happened to twenty-five cent machines?
I fished through my purse finding two one dollar bills. I inserted the first one and waited. Nothing. Had I just been conned out of one of my two dollars by a machine right here on Las Vegas Boulevard?
Just as I was about to walk away, the lifeless figure moved. Slowly at first, as if she had to gain momentum. Her head jerked from side to side in awkward movements. As her face came directly in line with mine, her eyes popped open, revealing deep black pools.
Then she froze.
I jumped back, startled. What? That's it?
I frantically stuffed my second dollar bill in the slot and waited. Not able to take my eyes from her face, her puppet mouth began to move. I took a step forward and leaned close, straining to hear her words. But all I heard were gears going into motion in a regimented sequence. Then a card popped out of a small opening in the front of the machine and fell to the pavement at my feet.
I picked up the card and read the words in silence: "Your journey will end where the once living still tread. Steer clear of the visions in the darkness for they are the ghosts of lost souls. Beware Molly Greyson, beware of."
I dropped the card like it was a piece of hot coals and looked up at the porcelain face.
Her eyes slammed shut and her head dropped to her chest motionless.
I back away and accidentally bumped into a man, causing him to drop his luggage and briefcase. Papers flew into the air, littering the sidewalk and sticking to the puddles left from an earlier passing rain. My card was lost in an ocean of endless paper. I apologized and tried to help gather the papers. He grumbled something under his breath and stuffed the unorganized dirty papers back into his briefcase and stalked away.
I scanned the sidewalk for the card. Then I spied it a few feet away in the gutter. It floated on a gentle stream of dirty street water and who knows what else mixed in. I raced through the crowd of sightseers, like a salmon swimming upstream. I dove down and snatched the card right before the murky water poured into a sewer grate and out of my reach forever.
I returned to the now frozen statue inside the case and stared at it. Had I imagined it? How had the machine known my name? I knew now that her lips had been mouthing the words on the card. She had said 'beware'. Visions, ghosts, and lost souls. What was she trying to warn me about? We were going to a little town in Indiana. Probably a boring little town that would be lucky to have any excitement at all, much less ghosts. Not that the idea of ghosts didn't get my attention. I was really into reading about ghosts and the paranormal, but this had to be a bunch of nonsense, just a way to get me to put more money in the slot to get her to talk again. It was a Las Vegas gimmick, plain and simple.
Out of dollar bills and out of patience with this mechanical hoax, I popped the card in my jeans pocket.
Through the hotel's front glass I could see Mom and Dad standing at the registration desk, speaking with the hotel staff and oblivious that I had even wandered off. Before I walked inside the lobby, I turned and gave a quick glance toward the Gypsy-in-a-box.
I stopped cold. Her head was turned toward me, and she was smiling in a way that was not puppet-like at all.
I raced into the lobby and didn't look back. The rest of the time we spent in Las Vegas I made a mental point to avoid the mystical box...

[Copyright ©2023 Roberta Hoffer | No unauthorized reproduction or distribution]

READ REVIEWS

"What a great paranormal mystery! This story is about a young woman name Molly who is the perfect example of an independent and smart woman. She has a new home, an old mansion. This mansion is full of mystery and action. This was a great, fun, action packed, fast-paced story. It even had me looking over my shoulder a few times as I read it at night. I enjoyed every minute of it. I highly suggest this to mystery lovers, especially paranormal mystery lovers. There are surprises around every corner in this book. I totally want to check out more mysteries from this author. She has made a fan out of me. Five out of five stars!" ~ reviewed by Mary Kazen for Rabid Readers Book Blog [FIVE STARS]

"When Molly's family moves from sunny California to rural Indiana, she finds herself living in an old house with creaks and groans and so much more. With the help of a gorgeous local boy, she struggles to adjust to small town life while trying to figure out the mystery of the Kotter House. This is well-written and fast-paced story will have you turning the pages rapidly to see what's coming next. If you didn't believe in ghosts before, you will after reading MOLLY GREYSON'S GHOST!" ~ reviewed by Amber Sparks [FIVE STARS]

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