“Before what?” Theta said.
“The last thing we need is a panic. Panic breeds danger.”
“How did these ghosts get here?” Isaiah asked, wide-eyed.
“Wait! Let me guess—you don’t know,” Evie said.
“We believe that somehow a door between this world and the next has been wedged open, allowing this new, more powerful ghostly energy to come into our world more freely,” Sister Walker explained.
“But there have always been ghosts,” Ling said again. “I’ve spoken to—”
“Not like this,” Sister Walker interrupted. “This is a new breed.”
“So what’s keeping this door open? How did it get left open? And why are these ghosts so powerful?” Ling pressed.
“We don’t know!” Evie, Sam, and Henry said as one.
“But those are all good questions, Ling,” Sister Walker said.
“Say, I’ve got a question. How about you finally tell us everything about Project Buffalo.” Sam fixed his gaze on Will and Sister Walker.
Will sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “We’ve told you,” he said wearily. “Project Buffalo was a program of the United States Department of Paranormal aimed at the study, registry, and possible recruitment of Diviners in the event we’d need their help in times of crisis. That’s all there is to tell.” Will lit another cigarette.
Sam’s anger rose. “I can’t help wondering why you’re both still here but my mother isn’t.”
“Your mother died of influenza, Sam,” Sister Walker said gently. “I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”
Then how come I got a postcard from her eight years after her supposed “death”? Sam thought. “Well, if it’s the truth, it’s the truth.” Sam fought to keep the edge out of his voice. He watched Will and Sister Walker carefully, but their expressions gave nothing away.
“There’s nothing else to tell about our days in the department,” Will said.
“You sure about that?” Sam challenged. “’Cause if we found out you were lying to us for some reason…”
“I’m sure,” Will answered with an air of finality. “The important thing is to get to work as soon as possible.”
“I have a question,” Mabel said. “Where do Jericho, Theta, and I fit into all of this? We’re not Diviners.”
“Everyone can be helpful in some fashion,” Will said. “You three will be our research team. And we might need controls for our experiments from time to time.”
Theta’s cigarette stopped halfway to her lips. “Controls?”
“Yes. When testing certain powers, for instance. We need people who aren’t Diviners,” Sister Walker explained. “To gauge the effects.”
“Gee, I don’t know about that,” Theta said.
“You can look through the books and files for stories or histories that might prove helpful,” Will said.
“Like Liberty Anne’s unholy correspondence?” Jericho suggested.
Ling turned to Henry. “What is that? That doesn’t sound good.”
“In a letter Cornelius wrote to Will just before he died, he claimed that Liberty Anne’s last vision had been too grim to share,” Jericho said. “Cornelius called it the unholy correspondence. Whatever it was frightened him so much that he never spoke of it until it was too late.”
“Jericho and I tried to find it, but we had no luck,” Mabel said, glancing shyly at him.
“Even Sam looked. And he’s usually good at finding trouble,” Jericho said.
“Haha. The giant made a joke. Hysterical!” Sam’s exaggerated, silent laugh ended in an eye roll. “So, that’s it? This is our plan? Strengthen our powers for some big ghost fight? Look for this unholy correspondence of Liberty Anne’s that might not even exist? Close up this supernatural tear and keep the world from ending. Is that everything?”
“You forgot that these new ghosts might want to kill us,” Ling said quietly.
“And that they have teeth,” Henry said. “I don’t think we can overemphasize that point.”
Isaiah had sidled up to Memphis’s side. Memphis put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Ice Man. I won’t let anything get you.”
Sister Walker left her chair. She bent down to bring her face to Isaiah’s, cupping his chin with her fingers. “Are you frightened, Isaiah?”
Isaiah didn’t want the others to think he was a baby. But he was frightened. He’d seen what that monster had done to their friend Gabriel. He’d had visions and dreams about it before it happened. As much as he wanted to use his powers again—the ones his religious aunt had forbidden him even to think about—he was scared, too, of what he might see. Isaiah gave one quick nod.
Sister Walker put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be safe, I promise. I know it’s not right for us to ask you to keep this from your aunt. I’m sorry about that. But it’s very important, Isaiah. It’s only for a little while. Can you do that for me? For us?”
Isaiah looked to Memphis.
“That’s your decision, Ice Man. I won’t make it for you. But if you’re coming here with me, we gotta keep it a secret between us. That means not telling nobody. Not Octavia or Uncle Bill.”
“Anybody,” Isaiah said, thrilled to correct his brother. He bit his lower lip, thinking it over. “Okay.”
“Good.” Sister Walker rubbed the top of Isaiah’s head affectionately. She stood to address the room, towering above Isaiah. She was a tall woman, and in her heels, she was even taller. “We’ll meet here at the museum every night at closing time, five o’clock.”
The room erupted in protest.
“That’s impossible. I have to work in my parents’ restaurant,” Ling said. “What can I tell them? How can I get to Sixty-eighth Street from Chinatown every day?”
“I’ll have to think of some story for Isaiah to get past my aunt,” Memphis said. “And I’ve got two jobs.” And a notebook full of poems to write.
“The Follies are in rehearsal for a new show,” Theta said. “Looking through creepy files won’t pay my rent.”
“And I’ve got an aversion to boredom,” Sam said.
“This is important. We need all of you here,” Will said. “We can’t just hope this will all go away—it won’t. That’s quite clear now. And no one is going to swoop in and save us, either. It’s up to us. All of us. We have to figure this out together.”
“Fine. But I’ll have to work around my radio show,” Evie said, reaching for her cloche. “As it is, I’m late to WGI right now.”
“Evangeline, I don’t think you should continue to do the show,” Will said. “We don’t understand the forces at work here. You could be drawing evil into our world with each object you read.”
“Didn’t you just ask me to use my gifts in your merry jazz band of ghost-hunting Diviners?” Evie sputtered.
“That’s different.”
“Ohhh, I seeee. It’s perfectly swell for me to read objects and dance with the Devil if it helps you and the museum, but not if it makes me happy. And famous.”