by E.J. Stevens
“Here you go Cal. You’d make a terrible pirate you know,” I said laughing as I handed him the shovel and then wincing at the foul taste.
“I told you Yuki. I’m Calvin the Bandit,” he said primly as he bent down to start digging. I had to bite my lip to stifle another laugh as we both set to work on the compost heap.
Chapter 11
After what seemed like decades, but was probably just an hour, my trowel hit something. The sound of metal scraping on metal carried over the buzzing of flies and Calvin and I smiled for the first time since we had started digging.
“Please say that is our buried treasure,” Calvin moaned. He had turned an unhealthy shade of green and looked like he was going to be sick.
I was tempted to tease him about his wimpy stomach, but decided it was unfair. How was I to know how bad it really smelled out here? I was in a perpetual cloud of vinegar smell thanks to Jackson’s ghost.
I carefully wiggled the metal box until I was able to pull it out of the heap with a sucking sound. I started to stumble back when Calvin caught my arm. “Thanks. This is one place I really do not want to fall on my butt,” I said.
I figured we had suffered enough, so I started walking away from the heap and toward the truck. Before getting in I poured the rest on my water bottle over my hands and then grabbed the hand sanitizer I never leave home without. Calvin looked at it longingly and I handed it over to him. “Is it alright to get in your truck?” I asked Cal suddenly realizing just how filthy we were.
“Sure. Just a sec,” he said as he ran over to the back of the truck. He came back with towels which he threw over the bench seat of the truck. “All set,” he said and stepped back.
I didn’t want to get caught near the farm with the box, so I suggested we wait until we were back on the highway before I tried to open it. The box appeared to be a metal toolbox with a latch but no lock. Once we were cruising on the highway I opened the latch. The lid fell back against the tops of my knees as I stared at the contents. Calvin was dividing his attention between the box and the road, but I could see the look of relief on his face. “We did it,” I said. The box was filled with papers in clear plastic bags. They looked like legal documents, deeds and maybe even a will, and in the bottom were stacks of cash. Buried treasure.
Calvin reached over and took my hand, holding it for a moment and then giving it a squeeze. “You did it Yuki,” he said proudly, “Your power is kind of amazing.”
My power. I had never really thought of it that way before. It was something I was still trying to get used to and so far it had just been aggravating. If we could figure out what Jackson Green’s ghost wanted us to do with the contents of this box, then we could put his soul to rest. His spirit could be at peace. Maybe my ability to smell the dead wasn’t so bad after all.
“Is Mr. Green’s ghost still here?” Calvin asked.
“Yes, but I think you’re right. With these papers we should be able to figure out why he’s bound here. The reason why he can’t rest,” I said. Looking inside the box I could see that it would take us a while to read through all of the documents. We pulled up to my house and Calvin walked me to the door. “You want to come inside and start reading through these now?” I asked holding up the metal box.
“No thanks,” he said looking chagrined, “I really need to go take a shower.”
“Right, me too,” I said and started to turn to go inside.
“Yuki?” Calvin asked.
“Yeah?” I asked turning back to him.
“Thanks for giving me a chance,” he said and smiling his toothy grin he started walking back to his truck.
Who else is going to dig through a compost heap with me? It must be love. Maybe, just maybe, it is.
Chapter 12
I woke up Saturday morning shaking and drenched in sweat. When I went to bed last night I was looking forward to solving my ghost problem and seeing Calvin. Due to the Labor Day holiday our first week of school was just three days. After such an exciting day Friday, I was thinking about spending time with Cal over the weekend when I drifted off to sleep. That doesn’t explain my dream though. Dream? It was a nightmare. In my dream a weathered man and a huge silver gray wolf stood together beneath a full moon. They were atop a hill and no matter which direction I looked, in the distance I saw the devastation of severe drought. Looking back at the man and the wolf I saw the tears in their eyes evaporate on the wind. It was too dry even for tears to fall.
Then, as is often the way of dreams, I stood in my bedroom looking out over my yard as a full moon washed everything a ghostly gray. I heard the howl of a wolf then found myself in a long hallway and saw an elderly man in overalls walking towards a white light. He smiled at me and then pointed over my shoulder. I turned to look behind me and a huge silver wolf, like the one that had been on the drought scarred hill, stood facing me in the hall. He was beautiful, though his eyes looked sad. The wolf began scratching at a red door to my left and whimpering to be let out. I went to open the door, but as the door knob started to turn I woke up. What did it mean?
The dream left me worn out and part of me wanted to try going back to sleep to find out what lay beyond the red door. Maybe I could ask Calvin about it later. He was interested in dream interpretation and had bought a few books on dream symbols on our last trip to Salem. What was it Cal said you’re supposed to do first? Keep a dream diary? I found a sales flyer for Manic Panic hair dye. “Sorry Tish and Snooky,” I muttered as I wrote silver wolf, full moon, hallway, light, and red door along the edge of the flyer. I put my new dream diary on the night stand beside my bed and placed the pen on top. I could always use it as a backup excuse to have Calvin come over later. I floated down the stairs to have breakfast with my parents, banishing thoughts of wolves and tears to the shadows.
Chapter 13
His phone just rang and rang. I had been trying to reach Calvin for hours. His cell phone went immediately to voicemail and his home phone just rang endlessly. Where was he? It was possible his parents had taken him somewhere for the weekend. His family seemed to love the outdoors and often went on hiking and camping trips. But wouldn’t he have called? I was trying to think of reasons for Calvin’s absence that didn’t involve him injured in a ditch somewhere. Hoping that he had gone to visit a shrine where cell phones, and often speaking aloud, were prohibited, I closed my phone.
With a sigh I turned my attention back to the metal box. The legal language was a bit archaic, but after a few hours of reading, and a couple of internet searches to figure out what certain legalese meant, I had a fairly clear picture of the events surrounding Jackson Green’s death. We would probably never know for sure what happened on the day of his death, but it looked as though Jackson had been aware that his days were numbered. He had made numerous revisions to his will in the last months of his life with a clause to cut his sons out of it just days before their boat accident. It seemed like more than just coincidence.
What was I supposed to do next? That was where things became murky. Jackson’s final will and testament left the farm and controlling shares of farm stocks to his wife Grace. The remainder of his stock portfolio, the cash in the box, and his other land holdings were to go to environmental charities. The details were all in his will and in a few letters of correspondence with staff in the fundraising offices. The only thing that held me back from posting these to his wife and the charities was a question that had been nagging me since the beginning. If murder had been committed, then how involved was Jackson Green’s wife? I was going to have to experiment with my smell impressions before I made a final decision about the contents of the box. I was going to have to pay Grace Green a visit.
After checking my phone again for messages, I finally gave up on waiting for Calvin to call and went to sleep. I was soon dreaming about sitting across from him on my bed with the metal box set between us on the comforter. Dream Calvin then stood and walked in a circle to be suddenly replaced by a large wolf that lay on the floor beside my bed
. The metal box then burst open and hundreds of butterflies flew into a bright light shining above my room. Captivated by the light I reached upward and began to stand. I was pulled back to the bed and I looked down to see the wolf holding the edge of my shirt in his teeth. “Thank you for protecting me,” my dream self told the wolf. I suddenly bolted awake to the sound of howling outside my window. It was hours before I finally drifted back to a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 14
I only had my dream diary for two days and I had already failed to use it. I was trying to remember my dream from last night but it was no use. It was like trying to grasp at smoke. That’s why people keep dream diaries.
I closed my eyes and tried again. Sitting crossed legged, the lotus position Cal would call it, I leaned against the pillows propped at the top of my bed and slowed my breathing. I tried to picture my dream as something tangible that I could grab hold of. I reached my mental fingers out toward the dream remnants and my phone beeped. I jumped and hit my head on the headboard. Ouch. I scrambled to uncross my tangled legs and grab my phone off the nightstand.
It was a text from Calvin. I hit view message to see his question, “R u home?”
“Yes where r u?” I texted back.
“Can I come over?” he asked.
You didn’t answer my question Calvin Miller.
“OK,” I texted back. I couldn’t decide if I was happy or angry. Judging by the butterflies in my stomach I was mostly nervous. Butterflies. Wasn’t there something about butterflies in my dream? I was interrupted by a knock at the front door. “I guess I know where Calvin is,” I muttered as I went to let him in. He could have at least given me a few minutes to freshen up. Boys.
“Hey,” I said as I opened the door.
“Hey,” Calvin whispered back. He started rubbing his arm then stuffed his hands in his pockets only to switch back to rubbing his arm again. Cal was also shuffling his feet back and forth and looking everywhere but at me.
Nervous much?
“Uh, come on up,” I said and started up the stairs to my room.
When we reached my room I threw my butt onto the bed and crossed my arms. I was still a little angry about his disappearing act. Calvin hovered in the doorway and finally came in to stand as far away from me as he could and still be in the bedroom. Do I smell or something? His standoffishness was making me even angrier. Calvin kept fidgeting like he was uncomfortable in his own skin. He repeatedly glanced back and forth between the door and the window like he was looking for a way out.
Was he having second thoughts about the two of us dating? Please no, not that. Something was definitely going on and his behavior only made sense if he thought our going out was a mistake. Cal was probably worried about ruining our friendship and was trying to come up with a way to break up with me. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy on him. If that’s what he came here to do, then he would have to man up and say it himself. Don’t make me hate you Calvin Miller.
“So where were you all weekend?” I sniped at him. It came out sounding rude but my feelings were too hurt to care.
“In the woods,” he said sullenly. Not “hiking with my parents” or “camping with my family” but “in the woods.” Something about the way he said it sounded ominous and maybe a little angry.
“I missed you,” I said quietly. Where had that come from? Way to be tough Yuki. Now he was probably going to think I was too needy and run for the hills. Or the woods.
“Me too Yuki. I,” he said stepping forward. But as he came within inches of me he retreated to the doorway. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” he said sounding out of breath, “It’s too soon.”
Too soon for what?
“My dad was right,” he muttered, “I’m not ready.” He started to walk out the door.
Out of my life.
“Cal, please don’t go!” a strangled voice cried out.
My voice.
Calvin paused and without turning to look at me said, “Don’t give up on me Yuki. Not yet.” Then he ran down the stairs and out to his truck. I heard the driver’s door slam shut and the engine roar.
Don’t give up on me Yuki his voice echoed in my head. Those words gave me hope but I still grabbed the beetle plushie off the floor and, squeezing it tight to my chest, sobbed into my pillow. It was not too dry for my tears to fall.
Chapter 15
Monday had been an out service day, with the school week resuming Tuesday. This meant that I had all of Monday to cry before returning to school. Where I would have to face him. I hadn’t heard from Calvin again since our brief talk in my bedroom yesterday so I didn’t know what to expect. Would he a) apologize, b) act like nothing was wrong, c) break up with me, or d) make it up to me with a kiss? I was hoping he would go for option-d, perhaps with a bit of option-a as well. Grovel and kiss me you fool.
I hadn’t seen Calvin yet and when I walked into the physics class we had together his desk was depressingly empty. I tried not to read too much into his absence but the empty desk haunted me all through class. Maybe he’s just coming in late today. If that were the case, I would make sure to see him at lunch. If he was in the building at noon, he would be in the cafeteria. No one would get between Calvin and his burgers. That boy had a crazy healthy appetite.
Lunch was even more depressing. There was no sign of Cal and without anyone to tease about the injustices of meat processing Emma sat picking at her orange wedges without her usual enthusiasm.
“This sucks,” Emma finally stated. “I need a victim and no offense Yuki, but your carrot sticks are lacking in controversy.” She raised one eyebrow at my bag of carrot sticks and for a moment my stomach twisted at the memory of Calvin pulling the same face just a few days before.
“I did hear someone once claim that carrots had nervous systems and so could therefore feel pain,” I said trying to keep the conversation going. I knew I was desperate when Emma’s rants were a necessary distraction from my thoughts.
“Really?” she asked hopefully. Both of Emma’s eyebrows were raised now and the hopeful look on her face was kind of funny.
“Mm hmm, though the information hasn’t been verified,” I added trying to sound serious. Emma was big on scientific proof for her arguments.
“This sucks,” she moaned again and put her face down on her hands. “Where is Cal when I need him?” she whined.
My thoughts exactly.
“So Emma, want to go on a spying trip after school?” I asked.
“Like double-oh-seven?” she asked picking her head up off the table.
“Totally,” I replied. “There may even be multiple counts of bee slavery on the premises.”
“Really? I’m so there,” she answered.
Thank goodness for bee oppression.
“Should I dress up? Do you think there will be any hot double agents?” she asked hopefully.
Thinking of Jared Zempter I shuddered. More like Frankenstein’s monster. “Maybe. Bring lip gloss,” I said and forced a laugh.
Emma waved as she shoved an orange wedge into her mouth and ran to class. Looks like she got her appetite back. If I couldn’t get my boyfriend back today, then maybe I could settle for getting rid of my ghost.
Chapter 16
Emma pulled her car onto the gravel road and I told her to pull us to the side and park. When we got out and stretched she looked from the sign for Green Orchards Apple Cider Vinegar Company with its Always natural. Now certified organic claim and back to me. She was looking at me like I had three heads.
“What?” I asked rolling my eyes.
“Yuki. This is an organic farm. Please tell me we are not doing some covert raid on an organic farm!” Emma demanded.
“But they’re the evil overlords of bees,” I said lamely.
Son of a dung beetle. This wasn’t going as planned, though I had to admit that I didn’t actually have much of a plan. “Emma look, I just need to go up to the main house and get a sense of the old lady inside. If she seems like a nice gran
dmother type and invites us in for cookies, then I can fix my ghost problem. If she is more of an evil stepmother who murders her sons and husband type, then we can run like crazy back to your car. Either way you can write an article for the school paper about how they oppress bees and steal their honey,” I pleaded. “It would help to raise awareness,” I added hopefully.
Emma crossed her arms but agreed. “Alright, but you owe me one,” she said as we walked towards the house on the hill.
Grace Green turned out to be an energetic woman who my mom would say has lots of spunk. She was dressed in blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a sun hat that left a cross-hatch of shadow across her tanned face. Grace was busy working in her herb garden at the side of the house, but stopped when we approached. We had explained that we were working on an article for our school paper and Emma went on to ask her questions about raising honey bees. I was doing my best to observe Grace while trying to sense any difference in her husband’s smell impression. This is harder than I thought.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get a fix on a ghost’s intention from a smell. When we were looking for clues I had known that we were getting warmer when the smell became stronger. But would a strong smell around Grace mean she was the one to give the inheritance to, or just the opposite? Would it mean he loved his wife, or that his wife was a cold hearted murderer?
Emma and Grace were talking about pollination, and I was about to give up my search, when a black and yellow butterfly landed on one of the plants in Grace’s herb garden. Black and yellow butterfly.
“Mrs. Green,” I said startling them both by finally speaking, “What kind of plant is this one here?”
