Ghosts on Ice
Pamela opened the toolbox she was carrying and pulled out a flashlight. “It’s normal to be nervous, you know. From everything I’ve read on the Paranormal Portal, most people report feelings of extreme terror the first time they contact the dead. But it’ll pass.”
She rapped on the front doors. “Spirits! It’s us, Pamela and Adamjosh! We’re simply dropping by to wish you a happy Halloween!”
With a mysterious whoosh, the doors flung open.
Pamela paraded past the ticket office, through the plastic curtain strips, and shined her flashlight across the empty ice rink. Adamjosh looked back the way they’d come. “I don’t see Old Man Twinkles-Gunderson… we’re probably safe.” He followed her inside.
Pamela vanished into the office, flipped a switch, and in moments, dim yellow light filled the Ice-O-Rama. “Some of the bulbs are burnt out.”
She walked right across the ice and set her toolbox down by the wooden boards that curved along the edge of the rink. “This is the Zamboni gate. Help me pull it up.”
She and Adamjosh each grabbed a side of the panel nearest them and heaved. It slid upward in its tracks, plexiglass and all, creating an opening.
It led to a wall with a metal roll-up garage door.
“This was chained up with five different locks!” Pamela explained as she grabbed onto the handle. “I was able to remove them all with a bolt cutter, but I had to search for days until I found the Zamboni key. It was the unlikeliest of places!” She paused and turned to Adamjosh. “Well, don’t you want to know where I found the Zamboni key?”
“Where?” Adamjosh asked.
“Turns out it was in the soap dispenser in the bathroom. Who puts a Zamboni key in the soap dispenser in the bathroom?”
Adamjosh wasn’t sure, but he made a mental note to investigate further.
With all her strength, Pamela pulled up the metal garage door. Sitting among mops and hoses was the Zamboni.
“Listen to what happens when I start it.” She hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The Zamboni let out a pathetic sputter.
Adamjosh approached the machine. “Does it have enough fuel?”
“Yes, the tank is full.”
“Maybe it’s the battery.” Adamjosh examined the sides and the back of the vehicle. “Hmm, this top part opens.” After lifting up the tank, he inspected underneath, and sure enough, there was the battery. He’d just done a science experiment at home with batteries and immediately noticed the problem. “That’s odd… it looks like someone disconnected the battery on purpose.” He picked up the wires and wiggled them around, making certain the positive and negative ends were properly hooked up. “There. Try it again.”
Pamela turned the key. This time, the machine rumbled to life, much to their delight. “O Spirits,” Pamela cried, “help is on the way!”
“Is it?” Adamjosh hopped into the passenger seat. “Do you even know how to use this?”
“I’ve seen videos. How hard can it be?” Pamela put her foot on the pedal. Adamjosh held his breath. Very, very slowly, the machine glided from the garage onto the dimly-lit ice.
“It’s working!” Pamela laughed.
Adamjosh hunched forward, clutching the bar in front of him. “Why are we doing this exactly?”
Pamela turned the wheel slightly. “I trust the spirits will tell us when the moment arrives.”
The moment arrived. For at that very second, the Zamboni began to wobble—wildly.
“Be careful!” Adamjosh cried.
“I’m not doing anything! Are you sure you got the wires in the right spot?”
“Positive!” Adamjosh bounced in his seat, squeezing the bar tighter.
Suddenly, as if a force had overtaken the Zamboni, the machine bounced into the air. It came back down with a teeth-rattling thud.
“Take your foot off the pedal!” Adamjosh shouted.
“I did!” Pamela cried.
Faster and faster, the Zamboni jumped into the air as though it had a mind of its own. Higher and higher, it shot up towards the ceiling and took a nosedive back down towards the ice. Up, down, up, down. Adamjosh and Pamela held on for dear life.
“I can’t turn it off!” Pamela screamed.
Crack! Smack! Thwack!
The jumps grew more and more forceful. The ice underneath began breaking. The crack spread wider and wider with each lunge.
Crack! Smack! Thwack!
Pamela and Adamjosh were flapping like flags in the wind, clutching the Zamboni with white-knuckled fingers.
“Heeeelp!” Adamjosh screeched.
And just when they were sure they would never live to see another Zamboni—the machine stopped. A breathless Adamjosh and Pamela did not waste a moment—they leapt out of the Zamboni and skidded to the edge of the ice where they braced themselves against the protective plexiglass.
Adamjosh shook so hard his knees knocked together. “Tha—that wasn’t the battery…”
“No, I don’t think it was…” Pamela whispered in wonder.
The cracks in the ice glowed an iridescent sapphire blue. Suddenly, from underneath, a light emerged, a white spectral energy rising like smoke…
Thanks to a Ouija board, a bowl of mystical rice and an unruly Zamboni, Adamjosh and Pamela unwittingly release a cast of quirky yet endearing ghosts who have been trapped under the ice. The spirits’ only dream in the afterlife (aside from eating snow cones) is to perform Shakespeare’s masterpieces… on ice. Terrified but fascinated, the kids agree to help. The only problem? Old Man Twinkles-Gunderson, the meanest, coarsest, growliest man in town, who just so happens to own the property. He won’t have ghosts stand in the way of bulldozing the ice rink and building luxury apartments. He will do anything to stop the show—even if it means the ghosts will lose their final resting place and vanish forever. Can Adamjosh and Pamela save the ghosts before it’s too late?
Complete at 50,000 words
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