Pleasing the Ghost

  “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.

  7

  BEANY BOOGER

  Downstairs, 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.”
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  “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.

  8

  NOD MAILER

  On Monday after school I dashed home, where Bo leaped on me, plastering my clothes with sloppy drools. My mother was still at work. “Come on, Bo,” I said. “Let’s get Uncle Arvie.”

  I was relieved to find Uncle Arvie awake. He was sitting on my desk holding a picture of his wife. “Pin sweel Heartfoot,” Uncle Arvie sighed.

  Through the window I saw Billy Baker riding his bike across the park, toward the spot where we had agreed to meet. “Uncle Arvie, I have a favor to ask,” I said.

  “A please?”

  “Yes. I want you to show Billy Baker that you know how to fly.”

  “Pin mailer!” Uncle Arvie shouted, flapping his arms.

  “Not yet.” I led Uncle Arvie downstairs and across the street to where Billy Baker sat on his bike, his arms crossed over his chest. “So let’s see him fly,” he said. “I don’t have all day, you know.”

  “Pin mailer?” Uncle Arvie said.

  “What’s he talking about?” Billy asked. “What’s a pin mailer?”

  “You’ll see,” I said. “Uncle Arvie, go ahead. Show him. Fly!”

  Uncle Arvie straightened his cowboy hat and stretched his arms. He flapped them once, twice, three times. “Foomf!” he said. Again he flapped his arms, this time faster. Once, twice, three times. “Foomf!”

  Billy said, “Oh man, oh man. I could fly better than that!”

  “Wait,” I said. “Sometimes it takes a while for him to warm up.”

  Billy looked at his watch. “Like I said, I don’t have all day. He’d better hurry.”

  Uncle Arvie tried again. He wiggled and wobbled his arms. He flapped them up and down and waved them all around. He turned in circles. “Foomf! Foomf!” he grunted.

  Nothing happened.

  “Stupid geezer,” Billy said. “Stupid dog. Stupid kid.” He was trying to sound mad, but I had the feeling he was disappointed—as if he really wanted to see Uncle Arvie fly, as if he really wanted Uncle Arvie to be a ghost. He circled us on his bike. “Man, are you gonna be sorry,” he said, and he rode off.

  Uncle Arvie frowned. “Nod mailer.” He looked pitiful.

  Across the street my mother was getting off the bus. “Hi!” she called. “How was your day?”

  “Terrible, just terrible.”

  “That bad? Well, come on in and tell me about it.”

  From the kitchen we heard a crash and a thud upstairs. In my bedroom we discovered the shattered window and, on the floor, a rock. Pieces of glass covered the carpet.

  “Oh!” my mother said, looking out the window. “Who would do such a nasty thing?”

  “Beany bud booger,” Uncle Arvie said.

  I wanted to tell her who had done it, but if I did, she might call Billy’s parents. Then he’d never go away. “Maybe it was an accident,” I said.

  “Let’s hope so,” she said, but she didn’t seem convinced.

  9

  NEEDLE FOR HEARTFOOT

  On Tuesday we returned to Aunt Julia’s house. She was just coming home from work and must have stopped for groceries on the way home, because she was loaded down with bags.

  “Thanks,” she said as I took the bags from her. “I wasn’t sure you’d really come today. I thought you might forget.”

  She put her groceries away and sank onto the sofa. “I’m a little tired,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind if I put my feet up and take a little nap while you putter around in the attic?”

  Uncle Arvie gazed at his wife. “Pin lalley, pin sweel, pin Heartfoot.”

  In the attic I hurriedly pulled the painting from its hiding place. “It feels dry to me. How does it look?”

  Uncle Arvie stepped back and studied the painting. “Bunny room needle a Heartfoot! Feather bunny room!”

  “You like it?”

  “Feather, feather bunny room!”

  “Don’t you need to sign it or something?” I asked.

  Uncle Arvie held up his hands. “Nod fraggle—”

  “Oh right,” I said. “I guess I could sign it for you, but then it would have to dry again.” I smoothed out the brown paper that had originally covered the canvas. “Let’s write something on the paper instead.” I held my hand over the paper as Uncle Arvie guided me. Pin Heartfoot, we wrote.

  “I’ll just finish cleaning up, and then I’ll give it to her, okay? That’s what I’m supposed to do, isn’t it? Give it to her?”

  “Yin, riggle!” Uncle Arvie was really excited.

  I finished stacking furniture and boxes against the wall, swept the room, and dropped a plastic garbage bag through the attic opening. Carefully, I eased the painting down through the hatch.

  Aunt Julia was dozing on the sofa. I patted her arm. “Aunt Julia?”

  “Oh!” she said. “Goodness, I was in dreamland! Are you finished already?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And I found something. I thought maybe it was for you. I didn’t mean to be nosy. When I moved a suitcase, I heard this clunking sound, and just thought I’d look. This was inside. See? It says Pin Heartfoot on it.”

  Aunt Julia sat up quickly and put her hands to her mouth. “What on earth—?” She ran her fingers lightly over the words Pin Heartfoot. “It’s from Arvie.”

  Uncle Arvie sat beside her on the sofa.

  “You haven’t seen it before?” I asked.

  “No, I haven’t. What can it be?” She turned the package over and unsealed the edges of the paper.

  Beside her, Uncle Arvie was grinning, and Bo thumped his tail.

  Aunt Julia pulled the paper away and held the canvas in front of her. “Oh, oh, oh,” she said. “It’s our honeymoon. There’s that beautiful lake,
and look, there we are in the boat. That’s me, and that’s—oh, that’s my Arvie.”

  Uncle Arvie’s lip quivered.

  “Do you like it?” I asked.

  She sniffled. “Oh yes. Oh yes, I do.” She stared at the painting. “I bet this was supposed to be my birthday present. I bet he hid it in the attic, and then— Oh, my Arvie.”

  Uncle Arvie leaned over and kissed her cheek, and immediately she put her hand to her face. “Oh! I can almost feel him here with us right now.” She sniffed the air. “Do you know—I can almost smell him here!” She laughed. “I bet you think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  “No,” I said. “Not a bit.”

  10

  THIRD PLEASE

  When we returned home after giving the painting to Aunt Julia, my mother was taping a second piece of cardboard over the window. “Another rock,” she explained, nodding at the glass on the carpet. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to find out who’s doing such horrible things.”

  Later I said to Uncle Arvie, “We’ve got to do something about Billy. He doesn’t seem to care if he gets caught—which makes me think he’s got something worse up his sleeve.”

  “Pin mailer,” Uncle Arvie suggested.

  “If only you could fly when I really need you to fly.”

  Uncle Arvie yawned. “Stamp!” He lay down across my desk. Within minutes he was snoring.

  That night I stretched out on my bed and looked at the cloudy sky. I closed my eyes and imagined a clear sky with a single bright star, and on it I wished for my pepperoni.

  I was awakened early the next morning by Uncle Arvie. “Good carpet, Dinosaur! Good carpet! Three please?”

  There was a third favor to do for Uncle Arvie. “I’ve got school today,” I said. “So it will have to be when I get home. What’s the third please?”

  “Dunder trampolink. Dunder boodled trampolink a gressapip.”

  “Hold on a minute!”

  Uncle Arvie got down on his knees and scratched at the carpet. “Dunder,” he said. “Dunder, dunder, dunder.”

  “You want me to clean the carpet?”