We split as soon as we’d finished, even though the other teams were still eating. We’d started before them. Heading out to the cabin, I noted some sparkles blinking at us as we walked. Diaz seemed fascinated and headed towards a cabin lit by a row of stars along the path. The stars flickered on and off, and Diaz frowned.
“What is it?” I asked as Liv came over.
“That’s Morse code,” Diaz stated.
“What?” Freddie asked from behind the camera.
“Morse code. I’d recognise that anywhere. My grandfather taught me it,” Diaz replied, frowning.
Huh, fancy that, Diaz could read Morse code. “What’s it saying?”
“This – is – our – home,” Diaz said slowly. “Go – away – strangers.”
“We mean nothing but respect,” I called out. The stars stopped flashing and just sat there, brightly shining in the dark.
“Seems they’ve had nothing left to say.” Liv sighed as we headed towards cabin nineteen. To my disappointment, there were no belly dancing Santas to greet us. Despite our efforts and taking turns, we got nothing from cabin nineteen at all.
The energy the ghosts expelled in making the Santas move must have drained them to the point they couldn’t communicate. That happened often unless you had a huge power supply nearby, and we didn’t.
On the trip back, Liv, whose head had been on a swivel, stopped dead in her tracks. It was just before dawn, and we were all shattered. I wanted to report in and hit the sack at this point.
“What is it?” I asked as Liv’s hand slowly rose and indicated towards the large pond we’d passed on the way here.
“Huh,” Liv replied. That was helpful, not!
I followed her gaze and stiffened as I finally saw what Liv had. On the pond, Simon and Fiona had positioned ornamental penguins. On our tour earlier, they had pointed out all the animatronic ornaments, and these penguins certainly hadn’t been on the list.
“Holy hell!” Freddie exclaimed and whipped the camera into position.
“Did I drink something spiked?” Diaz demanded as she rubbed her eyes.
On the pond, the ten penguins slid smoothly—as they played ice hockey with a snowball and used tree branches ashockey sticks. Two stood at either end of the pond making weird clacking noises, while the other eight had formed teams. Laughter came from the area as the penguins moved around whacking the snowball. Twigs had been jammed into the ice to make goals.
“I’m watching penguin ice hockey,” Diaz said, amazed.
He was so astounded that he didn’t duck as a snowball hit her straight in the face. The children’s laughter grew louder until Diaz’s eyes almost bulged from her head.
“This is unbelievable,” Freddie gasped even as she filmed.
“Those are children laughing,” Liv added, cocking her head.
She wasn’t wrong. There were multiple small voices raised in laughter. Before our disbelieving eyes, a penguin bumped into another and took it to the ground. A chuckle left me as both penguins snapped their beaks in smack talk and flapped their wings trying to rise. Another penguin skated close and slammed its stick into the fallen duo.
One of the downed pair honked in anger and flapped harder, trying to get to its feet. Two penguins initiated chest barging with each other, and one brayed in taunt. Then several more brayed from the sidelines as the children began cheering.
“A penguin hockey fight,” I murmured in disbelief. They weren’t swapping punches but flapping wings at each other. A penguin slipped past those fighting and smacked the snowball into the net. It slapped around, bellowing in triumph. The penguin in the goal was irate and smashed the snowball out, and I ducked, but Diaz took a second one to the face. As she spluttered, the arguing penguins all began playing in earnest.
“Do we approach?” Liv whispered.
“No,” I replied as a penguin scored and the children cheered. The entire scene was funny, penguins competing in ice hockey, but also sweet. The older ghosts were entertaining the children and making things fun for them.
I wondered how many children were haunting the Christmas Village. Because the adult ghosts certainly seemed to be protective of them. And in my opinion, rightfully so.
Chapter Four.
Callie
Iwoke well-rested and eager to get on with the investigation. Sunny wasn’t here, which surprised me; he rarely left me alone. Feeling miffed and more than a little out of sorts, I got up, showered, and dressed. My anger and discontent were growing as I headed downstairs for the equivalent of breakfast.
