"You know," Callie said leaning against him. "You could be a little more excited about the Halloween party."

"I am."

"You don’t act it."

"What can I say, I just don’t show my emotions outwardly."

"Have you heard?" Joe asked as he settled in a seat across from Frank.

"Heard what?"

"People are telling stories about the Harris place."

"Stories?" Callie asked.

"People are telling how the place became vacated," Vanessa said settling in the chair beside Joe. "All of it is interesting to me since I didn’t grow up here."

"Which version did you hear?" Frank asked as he draped his arm across the back of Callie’s chair.

"Well," Vanessa began. "The one I heard was that old Mr. Harris lived like a hermit following the death of his wife. Reports said she had died naturally, but people didn’t believe that. Many said Mr. Harris had killed her but no one had any proof. Then about 15 years ago, Mr. Harris died in the house. A neighbor found him when he hadn’t been seen for several days. He had been found locked inside his house with a knife in his chest. With no clue as to who." Vanessa leaned her arms on the table. "And people say to this day that Mr. Harris still walks through the house looking for the person responsible for killing him."

"That’s the same story we’ve been hearing for years," Frank said.

"Is there any truth to it?" Vanessa asked.

"The part of Mr. Harris being killed in the house is true," Frank said. "I remember Dad talking about it years after it happened. But for the part that he still walks the house, that’s just hearsay."

"Didn’t you two ever investigate it?" Vanessa asked.

"It didn’t interest us," Joe said. "We knew Mr. Harris died and left it at that."

"Besides, we were really young when he died," Frank said.

"That story of Mr. Harris’ death is the one that’s been around for years," Callie admitted. "The other versions are similar or that Mr. Harris killed his wife."

"Those are the stories," Frank said. "And each year the story gets exaggerated even more. It’s amazing how its changed over the years."

"So, there really is no truth to it that the ghost of Mr. Harris still walks the house?" Vanessa asked.

"Those who believe in ghosts probably believe he does," Frank said. "But as for me, thee are no such things as ghosts."

"You know, someone is bound to try something to scare everyone at the party," Joe said.

Vanessa smiled. "I can’t wait to see what it is. I love a good scare."

As talk continued about the Halloween party, Frank’s thoughts drifted elsewhere. He thought of all the times he and Joe had passed by the Harris place. The large mansion type house seemed to deteriorate more each day. No one had stepped inside since the day Mr. Harris had died, expect for a couple real estate brokers trying to sell it off every couple years. Many times during the years the youth had tried to enter the house, but it was securely locked up. The youth wanted to see a ghost.

"Joe," Frank said leaving his thoughts behind. "Do you know how the party committee chose that location?"

"I know," Vanessa said. "They had been looking for a place big enough for everyone and approached the real estate agent trying to sell the place. They got permission to use it and it didn’t cost a penny."

"That is a great deal," Callie admitted. "And that house just screams Halloween. It’ll be the perfect place for the party."

The bell ringing ending the lunch period got all their attention. Frank said, "We better head off to class."

"You’re right," Callie said. "The faster the end of the day comes, the faster the weekend and party arrives."

"And we all deserve to enjoy this party," Joe said getting to his feet.

"Definitely," Vanessa agreed.

*****

At the end of the day, Frank made his way to his locker. His English teacher had held him after class and questioned him about his concentration and slipping grades. He apologized for not paying attention and promised to try and focus more in the coming days.

As he walked down the hall, he felt bad that he had not been doing what he was supposed to while in school. He had a feeling his other teachers had noticed the change and he had to focus on his schoolwork. Reaching his locker, he unlocked the door and grabbed a couple books, determined to do some studying that night. He slammed the door shut and made his way toward Joe’s, ready to head home.

As he reached the second floor, he saw Joe standing at his locker finding the combination. As Joe pulled the door open, Frank saw a puff of white smoke bury Joe.