Pleasing the Ghost (4 page)

“That's a pretty big painting,” I said. “We shouldn't miss something that big.” I poked around the boxes, moved tools, and searched the rafters. “It's not here. Can you think of anywhere else it could be?”

Uncle Arvie scratched his head. Suddenly he said, “Picket!” and pointed to the roof.

“I don't think a painting is going to be on the roof—”

Uncle Arvie pointed toward the house and then toward the roof. “Picket! Picket!”

“The
attic
?”

“Riggle! Picket!”

“Did you find your dinosaurs?” Aunt Julia called.

“No, I must have left them somewhere else.” I was trying to think of a way to get into the attic. “Do you want me to do anything for you while I'm here?”

“Well, isn't that sweet of you,” she said. “I can't think of anything—”

“Do you need anything taken up to the attic?”

“The attic? My goodness. I haven't been up there in
years
. I'm sure it's a complete mess. No, I don't think I need anything carried up there, though.”

Uncle Arvie was sitting beside her, staring at her with a smile on his face. He liked to watch her.

“Maybe I could go up there and straighten it up for you.” When I said this, I felt a little guilty, because my mother had asked me to clean
our
attic, and I was always finding excuses not to do it. “I like to poke around in attics,” I added.

“What a lovely boy,” she said. “If you're sure you want to, it's fine with me. Here, I'll show you where the ladder is.”

The attic was dusty and crowded with boxes, old suitcases, a trunk, cast-off pieces of furniture, and plastic bags filled with blankets and clothing.

“I'll be down in the kitchen if you need me,” Aunt Julia said from the foot of the ladder. Bo stared up at the hole through which Uncle Arvie and I had disappeared. He whimpered.

I moved boxes, clearing a space in the center of the attic. “I might as well straighten it up as I go,” I said. I made a neat stack of boxes and piled the furniture against one wall. Then I dragged the plastic bags across the room and piled them on top of the furniture.

“I don't suppose you'd like to
help
me?” I asked.

“Nod middle—” Uncle Arvie tried to lift a box, but his hands went right through it.

“But you picked up a book—and a photograph—”

“Peasy!” He picked up a crumpled piece of paper and tossed it in the air. Then he kicked a tennis ball across the room. “Peasy!” But when he tried to move one of the suitcases, he couldn't.

“Too heavy?” I said.

“Yin.”

So I moved the suitcases. They weren't
that
heavy, since they were empty. All, that is, except for the last one.

“Hey, something's in this one.”

Uncle Arvie shouted, “Needle! Pin needle!”

Hurriedly, I unzipped the suitcase. Inside was a flat wooden box and a large object wrapped in brown paper.

“Needle! Pin needle!” Uncle Arvie said.

I unwrapped the object, and sure enough, inside was a canvas. It was a painting of a blue sky with white puffy clouds, a blue-green lake, and rolling green hills. In the center of the lake was a rowboat with two people in it. A lady was sitting in the front, and a man was rowing.

But the painting was unfinished, just as Uncle Arvie had said. On the right side of the painting, in the lower corner, was a ten-inch patch of white canvas. It looked as if there should be another hill there, or more of the lake.

Uncle Arvie touched the people in the boat. “Pin and Heartfoot,” he said.

It did look like Uncle Arvie and Aunt Julia in the boat.

“Wow, I wish I could paint like that.”

“Dinosaur hammer,” Uncle Arvie said.

“I don't know. I could never paint this well. Is this a real place?”

“Bunny room,” Uncle Arvie said.

“It doesn't much look like a bunny room to me.”

“Bunny room! Pin and Heartfoot. Bunny room!” He made kissing sounds with his mouth and showed me the gold ring on his finger.

“Honeymoon! This is where you went on your honeymoon, isn't it?”

“Yin, yin, yin! Bunny room!”

In the wooden box that was also in the suitcase, I found tubes of paint and paintbrushes. “Well, let's give it a try. What goes in this unfinished corner?”

Uncle Arvie touched a hill and a tree. He showed me how to mix two shades of green and one shade of yellow to get the right color. I worked slowly. I wanted it to look just right.

The grassy hill was fairly easy, but my tree looked sick. Uncle Arvie added some black paint to the brown that I was using, and very, very lightly, he placed his hand on top of mine, guiding my fingers slowly across the canvas.

“Wow,” I said when we finished. “It looks like a real tree! I can paint! Well, with a little help. Now I guess it has to dry awhile, huh?”

Uncle Arvie held up three fingers and pushed one back down.

“Two hours?”

“Donkeys,” Uncle Arvie said, waving his fingers. “Donkeys.”

“Days?”

“Riggle! Donkeys!”

“Two whole days? That's a long time.” I leaned the painting against the wall and dragged a box in front of it, to hide it but not touch it. “Is this for Aunt Julia? A present for her?”

“Yin. Pin needle a Heartfoot. Bunny room.”

“She'll like it, I bet.”

We heard the doorbell ring below, and then voices. Uncle Arvie listened carefully. Suddenly he flew down through the attic opening. “Beany booger!” he said.

D
ownstairs, Aunt Julia was saying, “Oh, how nice. I love chocolates!” She held a box of candy, and beside her stood Colin, smiling his silvery smile. Uncle Arvie stamped his foot.

“Would you like some coffee?” Aunt Julia asked, heading for the kitchen.

Uncle Arvie glared as Colin followed her down the hall. Bo circled Colin, sniffing at his legs and growling.

“Shoo,” Colin said. “Go away, dog.”

“His name is Bo,” I said.

Colin opened the chocolates and put the box on the table. Uncle Arvie leaned close. “Beany booger,” he said as he reached in and pressed his fingers into the centers of five of the chocolates, crushing them.

Aunt Julia said, “Let me see these chocolates. I do love choc— Oh!” She stared down at the crushed candy.

Colin bent to look at the chocolates, too. “Hey—” he said, blushing.

“Oh, never mind,” Aunt Julia said. “I'm sure the others are fine.” She and Colin smiled at each other.

Uncle Arvie reached into the box and crushed five more chocolates.

“I'll have one of the others,” Aunt Julia said, putting her hand into the box. “Ack!” she said, seeing the mashed candy.

“Hey,” Colin said to me, “did you—?”

“I didn't touch them,” I said, holding up my clean fingers as proof. “And neither did Bo. He hates candy.”

Uncle Arvie pinched Colin's arm.

“Hey!” Colin shouted, slapping at his sleeve. “Hey!”

“Oh dear,” Aunt Julia said, “not another wasp?”

Uncle Arvie pinched Colin's neck.

“Hey—” Colin slapped wildly at his neck and arms. “I gotta go!” He rushed to the door.

“Good biddle, beany bud booger,” Uncle Arvie said.

“Goodness,” Aunt Julia said. “I'll have to do something about those wasps.” She picked up the box of candy, looked sadly at it, and threw it in the garbage.

Uncle Arvie seemed pleased.

“Did you finish cleaning the attic?” she asked.

“Not completely,” I said. I knew we needed to wait two days for the painting to dry. “I'll come back on Tuesday and finish, okay?”

“Such a lovely boy,” she sighed.

When Uncle Arvie, Bo, and I reached the park across from my house, Uncle Arvie said, “Mailer. Pin mailer.” He flapped his arms, rose up in the air a few inches, and fell back to the ground.
“Foomf.”

“I guess it isn't always so easy,” I said.

Uncle Arvie waggled his arms. Up he rose. He put one hand on his red cowboy hat to hold it on. He wobbled and flipped and rose far into the air.

“Be careful!” I shouted. “Don't get caught in the wind!”

Uncle Arvie somersaulted in the air.
“Oowee!”
he said. He flipped and turned and finally floated down until he was level with my window. “Good biddle—”

Quickly he flapped his arms, and in through my window he sailed.

Bo barked, and at first I thought he was barking at Uncle Arvie's flying. Then I realized he was barking at someone else. Billy Baker was riding toward me on his bike.

I wished I had a bike like Billy's. I'd asked for one for my birthday last year, but I didn't get one. I had started saving my allowance for one, but at the rate that was adding up, I'd be too old for a bike by the time I had enough money.

“Keep that stupid stinking dog away from me,” Billy called as he spun around us. “Where's the geezer?”

“What geezer?”

“Your father—the geezer in the stupid red hat.”

“He's not my father,” I said. “And he's not a geezer.”

“Oh yeah? Well, he looked like a stupid geezer to me,” Billy said.

“He's a ghost.”

“Sure he is, and I'm a piece of lettuce!” Billy grabbed my arm and squeezed it hard. “You stupid liar.”

“He
is
a ghost,” I insisted. My arm hurt like crazy.

Bo grabbed Billy's shoelace and pulled it.

“Get off,” Billy said, kicking at Bo. “Get this stupid stinking dog off me.”

“I'll get him off if you let go of my arm and listen to me for a minute—”

“Get the dog off first,” Billy said.

“No, you let go of my arm first.”

Billy let go, and I pulled Bo away.

“You've got one minute,” Billy said. “Talk. And it better be good.”

“It
was
a ghost you saw, and I can prove it,” I said.

“Right. This I've gotta see.” Billy was acting as if he didn't believe me, but there was something odd about that. It seemed as if he really
wanted
to believe me.

“See that house over there?” I said. “The ghost is in there right now. See that window? You wait here and watch. I'm going to ask the ghost to fly out that window. Then will you believe me?”

“What do you think I am?” Billy said. “Some kind of idiot?” But he looked really, really interested.

“Just wait. You'll see.” I raced across the street, with Bo following me.

I ran upstairs. “Uncle Arvie! Uncle Arvie—” I flung open my bedroom door, and there was Uncle Arvie, lying across my desk, sound asleep and snoring.

Outside, Billy Baker stared up at my window. “Wake up!” I begged Uncle Arvie. “Please!” I tried to shake him, but my hand wiggled through his arm. “Please, please wake up!”

Billy stared up at the window, waiting. When I tried to pat Uncle Arvie's face, my fingers passed through his cheek and under his nose. “Please, please, please, wake up!” But no matter what I did, I could not wake him.

I saw Billy pick up a rock. “Please, please, please,” I begged Uncle Arvie. He snored. At last I said, “Come on, Bo,” and went outside.

Billy tossed the rock up and down in his hand. “So where's the stupid ghost?” he said.

“He's asleep.”

“The ghost is
asleep
! Oh man, oh man. Maybe I should throw this rock through that window up there and wake him up.”

Bo growled.

“Look,” I said. “Really. I can prove he's a ghost. Meet me here tomorrow after school. I'm sure I can get him to fly then.”

“Man oh man,” Billy said. “I don't believe this. You must think I am stupider than you.”

“Really,” I said. “I
promise
.”

Bo growled and snapped at Billy's shoe.

“Okay,” Billy said quickly. “I'll give you one more chance. Tomorrow after school. Right here. And that stupid geezer ghost better fly, or you're going to see this here rock fly—right through your stupid window.” Off rode Billy, still tossing the rock in one hand.

I sure hoped Uncle Arvie would fly for Billy. I sure hoped he would.