The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs Read Online Free Page A

herself. Allie didn’t quite catch it, but it sounded like “Poor kid must be new here.”
    The long fluorescent lights on the kitchen ceiling buzzed and flickered unpleasantly, washing everything in the room in a sickly greenish tinge. Allie looked about uneasily, but there was no one in sight. She was feeling relieved until a huge metal door swung open. In the sudden blast of frigid air that poured from the walk-in freezer, Mrs. Hobbs appeared.
    For a moment that seemed to last forever, Allie stood locked in the grip of Mrs. Hobbs’s penetrating gaze. Briefly Allie thought that Mrs. Hobbs was staring over her shoulder, at something behind her. Allieturned to look, and the carton Mrs. Hobbs was holding fell to the floor with a sudden crash.
    Allie dropped to her knees, desperate to escape those dark, narrowed eyes, and began gathering up scattered Popsicles. “I didn’t mean to startle you!” she cried. “I came because I, I mean, my class—”
    Mrs. Hobbs remained still and silent while Allie fumbled with the Popsicles and blundered through her explanation. “I’m Allie Nichols. I’m in Mr. Henry’s class, and we’re all supposed to interview somebody for Elders Day, and I wondered if it would be all right”—Allie gulped and forged ahead—“if I interviewed you.”
    She stood up, placed the box of Popsicles on the countertop, and forced herself to look directly at Mrs. Hobbs. Immediately she wished she hadn’t. The woman was even more unsettling up close than from a safe distance away.
    It wasn’t her size that made her intimidating. She was only a little taller than Allie, neither fat nor skinny. Actually, Allie thought, from the neck down she looked pretty normal. Above the neck was another story. As Mr. Henry had said, Allie knew better than to judge people by the way they looked. On the other hand, she’d never seen anyone who looked like Mrs. Hobbs.
    One red-rimmed eye drooped slightly lower thanthe other, and in places the skin of her face and neck had an odd, stretched, shiny look. Her thin lips twitched, but she didn’t utter a word. Her silence was even more disconcerting than her appearance.
    Was she angry because of the spilled Popsicles? Did she enjoy frightening Allie with her naked glaring eyes and refusal to speak? Or did she always look and act this way? It was impossible to tell.
    Allie had had all she could stand. She was about to flee when the woman spoke one low, guttural syllable.
    â€œWhy?”
    In a shaking voice, Allie replied, “Excuse me?”
    â€œWhy?”
    Allie heard the distrust and suspicion in Mrs. Hobbs’s voice. She knew that what Mrs. Hobbs was really asking was “Why
me
?” She knew, too, that everything depended on the next words out of her mouth. Any mention of a ghost was out of the question, of course.
    â€œMr. Henry said you just got promoted, and I thought that was pretty good—” She had been about to say, “for an old person,” but caught herself in time. “I thought you could tell me about that, maybe. And, well,” she paused, and finished, “I think everyone has a story to tell, don’t you?”
    She looked down at the floor and held her breath,waiting for Mrs. Hobbs’s reaction. There was another long silence. Allie could feel the woman’s eyes boring into her.
    Then Mrs. Hobbs cleared her throat several times. In a voice that sounded as if it came from the back of a deep, empty cave, she said, “Tomorrow.”
    It took Allie a moment to comprehend what had happened. She looked up into that inscrutable face and whispered, “When?”
    â€œTwo o’clock.”
    Allie’s mind raced. Mrs. Hobbs probably finished work at two, but school was still in session at that hour. She’d have to ask Mr. Henry to excuse her from class to do her interview. She thought it would be all right with him, but she