I relaxed. “Sorry. Come in.”
Sam shut the door and checked the candy bowl on the bureau, but it was empty today. He threw himself on my bed. “Boy, did you see the arms on those movers? They’ve got muscles on their muscles and arms as big as my legs.”
I shrugged. “Life sucks!”
Sam flashed another grin. “It won’t be that bad, Jase. It’s not like you’ll be a million miles away. We both have cells. Besides, I’ll be paying you a visit during March break.”
I frowned but didn’t say anything.
Sam riffled through a copy of Sports Illustrated. After a few minutes, he asked, “What did the judge say you have to do again?”
“I have to do thirty hours of community service helping Granddad in Lucan.”
Sam chuckled. “Your grandfather! What a guy! What he’s up to these days?”
“See!” I snapped. “You’re just like everybody else! Making fun of him all the time. And now I have to hang around him. I’m sure glad no one knows me in Lucan.”
“Whoa, Jase! Your granddad’s a great guy. Sure, he may seem weird to some people, but I think he’s always doing neat things. I was just asking what he’s doing lately. You don’t have to bite my head off.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m just on edge these days. Granddad’s doing a history of Lucan and helping set up the village’s new museum wing.”
“Is that all you have to do? Work in a museum and help your granddad with local history? What’s the big deal?”
“And help out with senior citizens.”
Sam snorted. “Poor guy! That’s some serious hard time.”
“You don’t get it,” I growled. “He’s digging up more stuff about the Donnellys.”
“You mean the Black Donnellys? From what your folks have told me, and what we’ve read in school, people in Lucan aren’t going to like that very much.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Some of the villagers rarely speak to him anymore. Even his oldest friends have warned him off.”
“Geez! He’s really into it, isn’t he? But your granddad never lets other people’s opinions stop him. You know that.”
“Yeah, but ...” I held my breath for a moment to stifle my anger. “Now he’s studying trance clairvoyance.”
Sam sat upright. “Say what?”
“Ghosts! He’s studying ghosts! The other kids in town have a hoot wisecracking about him. And I have to move there to work with him. Lucky me, eh?”
“But where are the ghosts in Lucan?”
“Out on the old Donnelly Homestead on the Roman Line. Granddad’s made friends with a Mr. Salts, the current owner of the old Donnelly farm. He’s another ghostbuster!”
Sam whistled. “Cool!”
“Sam! Not you, too.” I knew Sam secretly enjoyed many of my grandfather’s antics. Given the chance, I think he would have loved to work with him.
“Come on, Jase! You’ve read William Bell’s Five Days of the Ghost and thought it was pretty cool, too.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“We even did some research into ghosts and hauntings for our project on the book! You really got off on the whole theory of the etheric body, the half-stage between physical and spiritual bodies after death.”
He was right. I did enjoy that project.
Sam jumped on my silence. “Give your granddad a chance. He’s an okay guy.”
Just then I heard laughter float up from the front foyer.
“Jason, we’re home!”
I recognized my mother’s voice, then heard quick steps come up the stairs and stop at my door. A gentle tap followed.
“Jason? Can I come in?”
Sam slapped my arm and nodded at the door. “She’s my friend, too. I also came to say goodbye to Jennifer.”
Slowly, I got up and opened the door. “Hi, Jen,” I said sheepishly. “How was breakfast?”
I melted at the sight of my sister’s warm smile and stepped back to let her into my room. Jennifer reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t draw back this time.
“It was great,” she said. “But I missed you.”
I nodded and let my head droop.
“Sam!” She raced over to the bed and bounced beside him.
I watched and listened as the two bantered. After dodging a pillow thrown by Sam, I joined in the laughter and retelling of old memories. Then, as they continued gabbing, I tried to finish up the last of my packing, wrestling the bedding off the bed they still occupied.
“Jennifer! Jason!” Mom called from downstairs.
“Coming, Mom!” Jennifer piped up.
I had mellowed with Sam’s visit, but I wasn’t as ready yet as Jennifer to accept this new start in our lives. When I pushed the top drawer of my bureau a little too hard, my baseball trophies fell over.
“Your father wants to get going,” Mom said. She was now in the hallway and was peering into my room. “Jason, the movers are going to do your room shortly. It looks like you still have a few things to pack, though.”
“I’m almost done,” I said. “Sam’s here. Jen and I are just saying goodbye.”
Mom smiled. “Hello, Sam.” She backed out of the room. “Don’t be too long, okay?”
The three of us sat in silence. It was hard for me to keep back the tears. I blinked rapidly as I shook my best friend’s hand. Jennifer openly let the tears flow and hugged Sam a little tighter and a little longer than usual.
“See you later, Freckle Face,” she whispered to Sam.
“Not if I see you first!” Sam said, his voice quavering uncertainly.
We all shuffled down the stairs and quietly shrugged into our heavy winter coats. Mom and I looked at each other. I smiled, and she put her arms around my shoulders so as not to embarrass me completely in front of Sam.
“We’re off, Fred!” I heard Dad say from the kitchen. “We’ll see you in Lucan.”
“Right you are, Mr. Stevens. Safe journey!”
Dad held the front door open for us to leave. I let Mom and Jennifer go ahead. Dad followed Sam and me out but stepped around us to open the car.
“Take care, Sam!” I said.
We high-fived each other, and I scrambled into the empty back seat. Jennifer and I waved at Sam, who lingered on our front steps. Soon we were off in a cloud of exhaust and snow flurries. I settled back. My mellow mood had vanished and the anger was back.
Chapter 3
After we headed out of the Toronto area, drafts gusted in between the door jambs and window frames of our car. Jennifer threw me a warm comforter. I gathered the blanket around me, smiled a thank-you to Jennifer, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. The gentle rocking of the car in the snow squall helped to lull me, but I still heard snatches of conversation between my parents and Jennifer.
“Highway 23, next turn!” Dad said. “Used to be called Cedar Swamp Road a hundred years ago.”
I felt the lurch of the car as