A ghostly picnic

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to write about a guidebook to pine trees, a school bus, and a painted rock.

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction.

 

A ghostly picnic

by Chiara De Giorgi

Ever since the Egyptian prince Khamose had gifted her with the Sight, Elsa Mon’s life had taken a curious turn. She’d made friends with the spirits living in the haunted house (who referred to themselves as ‘the Squatters’) and her days were brightened by all sorts of supernatural beings. They were amazed that a human could not only see them but also talk to them, so they never missed a chance to chat, ask for favours, try to sell her things, or simply play tricks on her.
Recently, Elsa had bumped into the Stranger, a shapeshifter who loved turning into everyday objects to observe the world without being noticed. No one knew what her original form was... not even the Stranger herself. Before realizing that the colorful stone she’d just picked up was actually the Stranger, Elsa had been scared out of her wits.

 

After her shifts at the Willow Gazette, the town’s newspaper, Elsa often stopped by the haunted house to say hi to the Squatters and trade a bit of gossip with the Thing, a spirit she’d grown especially fond of, who for some reason refused to tell her who he really was.
That day, sitting right on the worn-out doormat by the front door, Elsa spotted a brightly painted rock with WELCOME written across it. She bent down to pick it up.
I wonder who left this here, she thought. Suddenly, the rock changed in her hand. It went from hard, smooth, and slightly warm from the sun to cold and slimy.
“A snake!” Elsa screamed, dropping it with a thud. But how could she have mistaken a snake for a rock? Maybe it was a mouse? Nope. It was just the Stranger pulling a prank.
“Very funny,” Elsa grumbled.
When she stepped inside the haunted house, the chattering voices she’d heard from outside immediately went quiet. She caught just a few whispered words: “warn everyone”… “before sunset…”
What were the spirits plotting?
She spotted the Thing (he was always around), Olga the retired Russian assassin, Tony the plumber, Norman the failed time traveler, and even Sister Elena from Lombardy. Their sudden silence made her suspicious, but she didn’t feel close enough to any of them yet to confront them about it.
Maybe if I catch the Thing alone later... she thought, just to make sure they’re not planning to rob a bank or something.
The presence of Sister Elena reassured her a little, and Elsa decided to let it go.
She didn’t stay long. It was clear she had interrupted something and the conversation was awkward and stiff. So, after a few minutes, she made an excuse about needing to pick up her trench coat from the dry cleaner and left.

 

Later at home, Elsa tried, as she always did, to work on her novel, but inspiration just wouldn’t come.
“Well, this is useless,” she sighed, slamming her laptop shut. “If I can’t write tonight, I might as well read something.”
She headed into the living room, where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, all neatly alphabetized. Right away she noticed a book out of place: it was lying on the couch. She picked it up and read the title: ‘A Guide to Pine Trees’.
Where did this come from?
Elsa was used to strange things turning up in her house. She’d inherited it from her grandmother, full of everything it contained. As a poor apprentice journalist, she had considered it a blessing: she hadn’t needed to buy a thing. And ever since supernatural beings had entered her life, the number of odd surprises had skyrocketed. This book could have come from literally anywhere.
She flopped down onto the couch and flipped the book open. Immediately, she noticed something bizarre: the pine trees, firs, and other evergreens pictured inside were winking at her, blowing kisses, even sticking their tongues out!
“Stranger!” Elsa cried, half frustrated, half amused.
The ‘Guide to Pine Trees’ promptly morphed into a red octopus plushie with a pirate’s eyepatch. A talking plushie, obviously.
“Do you know a good spot for a picnic in the nearby woods?” the octopus asked.
“A picnic?” Elsa repeated, thinking. “Yeah, there are a few clearings around here where they sometimes hold little country fairs. I know one with a water fountain, perfect for a picnic.”
“Fantastic, thanks a bunch!” said the octopus, who immediately transformed into a tube of hand cream.
“You’re organizing a picnic?” Elsa asked.
“It’s the Squatters’ idea! The summer solstice is coming up, and they thought it would be fun to have a little outing all together.”
“Yeah, that is a cute idea…” Elsa said absently. Then she paused. “Wait a second. Who exactly is ‘all together’?”
“Oh, you know, the usual crew. Melancholy poet Friedrich’s not super excited about it, but Zinny’s working on convincing him.”
“Zinny?”
“Maybe you haven’t met him yet! He’s a Tibetan Buddhist monk. Says he used to be a wild one before switching to full-time meditation. I’m sure he’ll talk poor Friedrich into it. Some fresh air would do the poor lad good.”
Elsa couldn’t help wondering why they hadn’t invited her. Now she understood what she had interrupted that afternoon: the conversation about the picnic.
They had gone silent not to involve her... and she felt hurt. She had started thinking of these supernatural beings as her new friends.
Yawning loudly, she said goodnight to the Stranger and headed to bed.

 

Elsa couldn’t fall asleep. The more she thought about it, the sadder she felt. She had welcomed the Squatters into her life, with all the chaos they brought, and yet, apparently they considered her an outsider.
“They’re planning to have the picnic on the solstice, right?” she finally decided. “Well then, I’m crashing it! Let’s see if they kick me out!”
Feeling slightly better, she finally drifted off to sleep.

 

June 21st arrived, and Elsa set off toward the haunted house, determined to catch the Squatters red-handed.
She was still far away when she noticed something strange: a lot more traffic than usual on the country road. Cars parked along the side, people standing around staring… but staring at what?
Elsa stopped the car and continued on foot.
When she finally caught sight of the house, she understood the commotion.
Parked right in front of the door was the most bizarre school bus she had ever seen.
It was as big as a coach, all rounded shapes like something out of a cartoon, painted in stripes of white, purple, fuchsia, and pink, covered in silver glitter. Its exhaust smoke was white and smelled like vanilla. The horn kept honking different jingles, and the doors opened and closed in rhythm.
The crowd was utterly delighted.
That’s the Stranger, as sure as the sun in the sky, Elsa thought.
She couldn’t see any of the Squatters around yet. But a troubling idea struck her: once the Squatters boarded the bus—a.k.a. the Stranger—she would drive off for the picnic... without a driver... right in front of a huge crowd!
“Oh no… I’ve got to come up with something fast…”
Thinking quickly, Elsa left the road and dove into the bushes along the side. She circled around to the back of the haunted house and climbed in through a window.
The Squatters were gathered in the entrance hall, clearly distressed by the spectacle taking place on their driveway.
“Never trust a Stranger,” Sister Elena was muttering.
“Oh, come on, no need to be harsh!” the Buddhist monk countered cheerfully.
“Elsa, thank goodness you’re here!” The Thing was the first to spot her. “You’re the only one who can help us!”
For a moment, Elsa remembered she was still mad at them for not inviting her.
“Oh really?” she said coolly. “And why’s that?”
“Well... the Stranger offered to take us to the woods for the picnic, but... she’s attracted way too much attention, and now we have no idea how to get everyone to leave!”
“I do have an idea…” murmured Olga, running the tip of her finger along a sharp, gleaming knife.
Sister Elena screamed and fainted.
“No, no, come on, there’s no need to bring out the knives,” Elsa hurried to say. Maybe it was time to set her resentment aside for a moment and avoid a crisis.
“Elsa can drive the school bus,” Tony suggested. “We can sneak on board without being seen, and with her sitting in the driver’s seat, everyone will assume she’s the driver.”
Everyone murmured in agreement, pleased with the practical solution the plumber had come up with.
“I have no idea how a Stranger school bus works,” he added, turning to Elsa, “but maybe you won’t have to do anything—just sit there and be seen.”
Elsa nodded. “Alright. I’ll help you. We still have to come up with a reason why a glittery school bus would be parked outside an abandoned house, and why an apprentice journalist would be behind the wheel… but I’ll think of something.”
“Don’t worry!” said The Thing reassuringly. “I’ll help you!”

 

The next day, an article appeared in The Willow Gazette, signed by Elsa Mon.

Ghost Bus Movie ended before it even started!
In a surprising turn of events, the abandoned house known by the locals as “the Haunted House” and supposed to be the set for a low-budget supernatural comedy, Ghost Bus, was discarded at the last minute by the obscure director who wishes to remain anonymous.
The film crew reportedly faced a driver shortage, so a young apprentice journalist, who also wishes to remain anonymous, graciously stepped up to volunteer behind the wheel and saved the day. Truly a star!

 

 

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The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/