Read Backstage with a Ghost for Free Online

had all stayed together, but there was nothing he could do about changing Miss Beezly’s mind, so he followed Mr. Peabody.
    â€œTo begin with,” Mr. Peabody explained as he walked down the aisle, “the ornamental arch that separates the stage from the auditorium is called a proscenium arch.”
    â€œIs it true that you’ve never even seen Horatio?” Sean asked.
    Mr. Peabody stopped. “Do you want a backstage tour,” he barked impatiently, “or do you want to talk about ghosts?”
    â€œBoth,” Brian said. “We want to understand more about the theater because we want to help our dad solve the mystery of who—or what—has caused the accidents to Mr. Marconi and his inspector. We’d like to hear whatever you can tell us.”
    â€œEven though you don’t believe in ghosts,” Sean added.
    â€œAs for the inspector,” Mr. Peabody said, “he should have known better than to walk under hanging equipment.”
    â€œWhere did the sandbag fall?” Brian asked.
    Mr. Peabody pointed. “There,” he said, “right center. If he had been standing just a foot closer…” He gave a shudder. “As to the existence of ghosts,” he said, “I didn’t say that I didn’t believe in ghosts. I said I hadn’t seen them.” Lowering his voice, he leaned forward and murmured, “Lately I have noted a few…odd occurrences that might cause some people to think that ghosts may indeed haunt the Culbertson.”
    â€œOh yeah?” said Sean, his eyes widening. Mr. Peabody nodded gravely.
    â€œFor example,” he said, “certain objects in the dressing rooms have been moved. Since the building is locked, there was no one here to move them. Just this afternoon I found the wardrobe door hanging open in one of the dressing rooms.”
    Sean shivered. “Do you think Horatio was responsible?” he asked.
    Mr. Peabody shrugged. “It’s hard to say.”
    Brian was less interested in ghosts than in discovering more about the theater. “The women from the historical society said a city inspector classified the building as structurally sound,” he said. “Would you agree?”
    â€œHmmmph!” Mr. Peabody snorted. “Given half a chance those dreadful women would bring decorators in here to change the character of the theater completely.” Mr. Peabody sighed. “On the other hand, if the theater is torn down, it will be even more of a tragedy. The Culbertson is a magnificent old building. It should be left in peace exactly as it is.”
    Mr. Peabody took a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay. Let’s get a move on,” he said. He snapped on a flashlight and puffed his way up the stairs to the stage. The kids flicked on their flashlights, too, and followed him.
    â€œWatch your step,” he called back. “And whatever you do, don’t touch anything, especially the ropes.”
    â€œJeez,” Debbie Jean whispered to Sean, “what a grumpy old sourpuss.”
    A forest of ropes ascended into the darkness. Mr. Peabody insisted that the kids stand back as he pointed out the tattered remains of the different kinds of curtains and showed them the pipes with lighting instruments hung on them.
    â€œThese things are called battens,” he explained, “and they’re pulled up and let down by the stagehands who are in charge of moving the scenery.”
    Sean made sure the flash was in the On position on his camera and began snapping pictures. He took pictures of the ropes, the curtains, the sandbags, and the battens. He even accidentally photographed Debbie Jean posing as a famous movie star.
    â€œGuess who I am?” she cooed.
    â€œQuasimodo?” said Sean.
    â€œThe battens look heavy,” Brian said, changing the subject.
    â€œThey are,” Mr. Peabody told him. “Now come along and I’ll show you the stars’