The Ghost in Room 11 Read Online Free PDF

tomorrow,” Matt said. “You’ll see.”
    He could hardly wait. Tomorrow was going to be the best day he’d had since he moved to Healy.
    Merry Monahan was tall and tanned, with curly black hair. She smiled and waved at the students and teachers who had crowded into the gym to hear her speak.
    â€œI wanted to bring my pets,” she said, “but I didn’t think Matthew Barber’s mother would like it.” She winked at Matt as if they were old friends, though they’d met only a few minutes ago. “I’m going to stay at Matthew’s house tonight,” she went on, “and I don’t think an Irish wolfhound and a boa constrictor would be welcome.”
    Everyone gasped, and Jason poked Matt in the ribs. “What’s an Irish wolfhound look like?” he asked.
    Matt didn’t know. “It’s big,” he whispered.
    Last night, he’d tried to find out more about their houseguest, but his mother had been too busy to talk. She’d put brand-new sheets on the guest room bed, and smelly pink soap in the bathroom, and Matt had to pick a bouquet of daisies for the bedside table. Dinner tonight was going to be lobster tails.
    â€œI’d write a book myself if it meant we could have lobster once a week,” his dad joked. “But I guess Matt is going to be the writer in this family. When are we going to read your story, son?”
    â€œAfter the assembly,” Matt had told him.
    â€œWhat’s it about?”
    Matt’s mother had switched off the vacuum cleaner to listen.
    â€œIt’s called ‘The Ghost in Room Eleven,’” Matt said.
    â€œOh, my, more wild make-believe!” his mother exclaimed. “First Hollywood stuntwomen and treasure hunters, then ghosts.”
    Now, sitting on the gym floor, Matt wondered how Merry Monahan and his mother had become friends. They were very different. Miss Monahan said she liked to write about unusual places. She’d slept in a tent in the African jungle and had climbed mountains. She had even driven a dog-sled in Alaska.
    Matt’s mother always said that if a vacation didn’t include a clean bed every night and a private bathroom, she wasn’t interested in going.
    When Miss Monahan finished speaking, Mr. Beasley told her the students had a treat for her. They had been writing stories themselves, and two of them had been chosen to read their work.
    Jennifer Berman, a sixth grader, read first. Her story was about what it might be like to be the first sixth grader to ride in a space shuttle. When the story ended Matt clapped with everyone else, though he’d heard hardly a word. He was so excited, he couldn’t sit still.
    â€œAnd now we have Matthew Barber,” Mr. Beasley announced.
    â€œHis story is called—” He stopped, and Matt could tell he hadn’t read the title before. “It’s called ‘The Ghost in Room Eleven.’” The principal gave a funny little cough and handed the story to Matt.
    Matt hadn’t thought about what it would be like to stand up in front of so many people. His voice shook as he read about hiding in the closet and being scared by the gerbils. The students giggled. They’d heard that part of the story before, from Charlie.
    â€œâ€˜Then I ran upstairs,’” Matt read on in a stronger voice, “‘and I saw this weird light at the end of the hall. A lady in a black dress sort of drifted out of Room Eleven. She had a spooky white face, and her eyes just burned into me. She wanted me to come closer, but I didn’t. I ran out of there as fast as I could. I never stopped till I got home, even though I heard some kids laughing and wondered if they’d played a trick on me.’”
    Matt stole a quick look at Charlie and Jason. He could tell they were remembering that evening, too.
    â€œâ€˜The next day I saw the picture of Miss Edna Whipple in the hall,’” Matt