Ghost Fever. Copyright © 2004 by Joe Hayes.
Illustrations copyright © 2004 by Mona Pennypacker.
Translation copyright © 2004 by Joe Hayes.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written consent from the publisher, except for brief quotations for reviews. For further information, write Cinco Puntos Press, 701 Texas Avenue, El Paso, TX 79901; or call 1-915-838-1625.
FIRST EDITION
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hayes, Joe.
Ghost fever / by Joe Hayes—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: In the 1950s, fourteen-year-old Elena Padilla and her father move into a haunted house in Duston, Arizona, where only Elena can see and help the ghost of the young girl who died there. ISBN 978-1-9336-9332-3
[1. Ghosts—Fiction. 2. Haunted houses—Fiction. 3. Mexican Americans—Fiction. 4. Arizona—Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.H31474GH 2004
[Fic]—dc22
2004004266
Jacket illustration and book design by Vicki Trego Hill.
Illustrations by her daughter, Mona Pennypacker—
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You guys are good!
Many thanks to Luis Humberto Crosthwaite
for his edit of the Spanish text; to Sharon Franco,
for adding her two cents (we know you’re there);
and to Johnny Byrd, home at last!
Contents
1. Across the Tracks
2. The Abandoned House
3. A Renter
4. The First Week
5. Abuelita’s Advice
6. The Noise on the Roof
7. The Ghost
8. The Ghost Girl’s Story
9. The Metal Box
10. Ghost Fever
11. The Box Again
12. The Story that Stayed Behind
13. Proof in Print?
1. Más allá del tren
2. La casa abandonada
3. Un inquilino
4. La primera semana
5. Los consejos de abuelita
6. El ruido en el techo
7. El fantasma
8. El relato del fantasma
9. La caja metálica
10. Mal de fantasma
11. Otra vez la caja
12. La historia que permaneció
13. ¿Pruebas impresas?
IT SEEMS LIKE most people these days don’t believe in ghosts. But almost everyone knows somebody who says they’ve seen one. I know a lot of people who swear they have, and I’m not about to tell them they’re lying. I just listen and enjoy the story. This one happened way back in the 1950s in Duston, Arizona, which is the town I grew up in.
Duston was a railroad town. The tracks ran right through the middle, maybe 100 feet north of Highway 75, which was called Main Street while it was inside the city limits. The south side of Main Street is where the town’s few stores were located: a drug store, a couple of variety stores, two cafés, a clothing store—a pool hall, of course—and a strange, dumpy business called The Cole Cash Store. South, behind Main Street, the land rose gently and the streets up there were paved and shaded with big elm and cottonwood and cyprus trees.
Between Main Street and the tracks, a strip of open land covered with sharp black cinders ran the length of the town. It belonged to the railroad company. In the middle of town, the train station interrupted the continuous stretch of barren cinders.
If you had grown up in a small western town back in those days, you’d know what the station looked like: a pitched-roofed wooden building painted yellow with brown trim. On the side of the station next to the tracks, there was a concrete platform for freight and passengers and, on the other side, a small parking lot.
North, beyond the tracks, the town extended for another six or seven blocks in a crooked grid of dirt streets lined with run-down houses made of adobe or weathered lumber. Everyone called that part of town “across the tracks” and no one lived there unless they couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. If you did live there, the chances were you rented your house from a man named Mr. Cole.
Mr. Cole was the owner of The Cole Cash Store I mentioned. He must have gotten the name for his store from the expression “cold cash,” which people used to use back then. It meant money right there on the spot. His name was Cole, not cold, but he was trying to be clever and named his business The Cole Cash Store.
No one seemed to know what Mr. Cole’s first name was. They just called him Cole Cash, like the name of his store.
And
