Gib and the Gray Ghost

by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Gib and Livy kept fooling around with the powwow idea until Hy started talking about Morrison’s offer to hire Gib as a kind of part-time wrangler. “Wants him just on weekends till school is out,” Hy told them. “To work with the gray some, and maybe see what he can do with a couple of green-broke mustangs Morrison bought from Appleton a while back.” He was grinning as he went on, “Wants to pay real good wages too.”

  All the ladies, Missus Julia and Miss Hooper and Mrs. Perry too, seemed to think that would be just fine. Miss Hooper said she was very impressed that Mr. Morrison had such faith in Gib’s horse-handling ability, but that she wanted to remind Gib that he mustn’t let broncobusting interfere with schoolwork. And Missus Julia said she was so proud of Gib’s wonderful skill with horses. “And your mother would have been proud too,” she added. Gib ducked his head but his warm face cooled off some when he glanced up and saw the way Livy was looking at him.

  Sure enough, Livy wasn’t speaking to him again. Not for the rest of the evening, or the next day either. Not at breakfast or supper or on the ride into Longford. The not-speaking horseback rides weren’t too uncomfortable, Gib discovered. Not nearly as bad as not-speaking buggy rides had been, where you had to sit side by side trying to remember not to say anything or even look in the wrong direction. On horseback all Gib had to do was hold Silky back out of speaking distance, but close enough so that he could catch up if Livy and Dandy ran into any sort of trouble. Then when they got to school he’d catch up long enough for a silent, frowning Livy to get her books out of the saddlebag and hand him Dandy’s reins before he headed toward Appleton’s Livery Stable.

  It wasn’t until Thursday evening at the supper table that things with Livy began to change. Hy had been carrying on about Clark’s new ranch buildings. About the big ranch house especially, with its “half-acre parlor,” and how grand the stable was. “Them horses of his has better living quarters than a whole lot of people do, let me tell you,” he was saying, when Livy mumbled, “I’d surely like to have a chance to see a stable like that.”

  If Hy was surprised he didn’t say so. One of his eyebrows did shoot up a little, but he didn’t grin, and he certainly didn’t mention anything about stolen property. “Well, why don’t you come see it, then?” was all he said. “Why don’t you come along with Gib and me on Saturday?”

  For a second Livy stared at Hy but then she looked at her mother, and when Missus Julia nodded Livy said, “All right, I will,” right out loud, and then she went on talking, to her mother at first and then to everybody. Even to Gib.

  So the not-speaking problem was over for the time being. Another thing that seemed to be just about over was Livy’s suspicions about Clark Morrison. That first Saturday when she rode along with Hy and Gib to the Circle Bar, Mr. Morrison took her around to see the house and stables. And he also made an extra big fuss over Dandy. That seemed to do it.

  Livy spent the rest of the day sitting on the fence watching Gib give the gray a long workout, or else tagging along after Hy and Mr. Morrison. On the ride home that afternoon Livy had a lot of interesting things to say about the Circle Bar Ranch. One of the most interesting things, Gib thought, was what she’d stopped saying, all that stuff about it being on stolen land.

  That whole month was a busy time for Gib. School during the week, and then weekends at the Circle Bar, with barn work back at home squeezed into spare minutes here and there. Not much time to think about problems at school, or to worry over the useless old question about who Gibson Whittaker was and where he really belonged. But then on one Sunday evening in late April that old question got answered.

  Gib had gone up to bed early that night, tired out from the long ride and the day’s work at the Circle Bar. He was just about to turn out the light when suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps in the hall, and then a frantic knocking on his bedroom door.

  “Gib, Gib.” It was Livy’s voice and Gib knew right away that something was terribly wrong.

  Pulling on his pants, he tried to shove his nightshirt down inside them, gave up, and opened the door. Livy, a tousled-headed, tear-streaked Livy, burst in, threw herself facedown across his bed, and sobbed hysterically. All kinds of fearful ideas crossed Gib’s mind. Somebody—Missus Julia, Miss Hooper, or maybe even Livy herself—was sick. Or maybe even dying.

  “Livy? Livy, what is it?” he kept saying. “What’s the matter?” Standing there helplessly, he kept wondering whether to go on waiting, or maybe to pull her up off the bed and give her a good shake.

  He was leaning toward trying the shaking when, with her face still buried in her arms, she began to talk. “We’re going away,” she said. “We’re leaving the Rocking M and going to live in California. We’re leaving our house and the Rocking M, and my school and friends and ... The sobs became longer and louder, drowning out the words. “... and”—more sobs—“and Dandy too. I can’t even take Dandy with me.”

  Gib didn’t believe it. “I don’t see how that could be,” he said. “They wouldn’t do that. Missus Julia wouldn’t leave the Rocking M. You must have ... He paused, thinking about how good Livy had always been at eavesdropping. “You must have overheard it wrong.”

  “No. No, I didn’t.” Livy sat up and, wiping her eyes and cheeks with both hands, she glared at Gib. “I didn’t overhear it. They told me to my face. Mama and Miss Hooper did. Dr. Whelan was here again today and he says that Mama has to go to a warmer climate before next winter. And he’s already making the arrangements for Mama at a place that he knows about. And Miss Hooper and I have to go too.”

  Gib stared at Livy. “Does Doc Whelan think Missus Julia is ... He paused and swallowed hard. “Is she real sick?” he asked.

  Livy broke off crying and stared at Gib. “No. He says she’s not real sick. At least not yet. But he thinks she might be, if she had another winter as bad as this one. So they’re going to this place where Mama can have some special treatments and Miss Hooper will have to be there to take care of her. And I have to go too.” She jumped up then and ran out of the room.

  Gib sat on the edge of the bed for a long time thinking about what Livy had said. He didn’t believe it. He just couldn’t, but he knew he couldn’t sleep either, so he got up, put his clothes back on, and went downstairs. No one was in the library or parlor, and at first no one was in the kitchen either. But while he was still standing there wondering if he should go on down the hall to the new wing and knock on a door, Miss Hooper came in, carrying a hot water bottle.

  “Well, Gibson,” she said. “I thought you went to bed a long time ago.” She went to the kitchen range, tested the water in the teapot, and put some more wood on the fire before she turned back and said, “What is it? What ... Her frown stiffened. “Olivia hasn’t been talking to you, has she?”

  Gib nodded miserably. Miss Hooper sighed and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. “Well,” she said. “Well, well. Sit down. Let me try to explain.”

  Miss Hooper explained very carefully. He could tell that she was trying to make him feel better, and in some ways she did. But one thing that mattered a whole lot wasn’t changed at all by what Miss Hooper told him. In fact it only made it worse.

  What Miss Hooper had to say was that Dr. Whelan was worried about Missus Julia’s health and that it was important for her to get away from the Rocking M and spend some time in a milder climate. Not to stay forever. “Oh, no,” she said when Gib asked. “Just for a year or two. Or until her health starts to improve.” Miss Hooper reached out and patted Gib on the shoulder. “That’s why it’s important for you and Hy and Delia to stay right here and take care of the place until the family can come back.”

  So that was it. No one was dead or dying like he’d thought at first. He was mighty glad about that. And Miss Hooper hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. In fact she probably didn’t even know that she had, when she explained about who was going to California and who would be staying behind. Gib was to stay on the Rocking M with Hy and Mrs. Perry, Miss Hooper said. Missus Julia ha
d said that papers couldn’t make the difference, and Gib believed that was true. But there was a difference and Miss Hooper had pretty much pointed it out. It would just be the family who would be going away.

  So, now I know who I am and who I’m not, Gib thought. After Miss Hooper finished explaining he went up to his room and got back into his nightshirt. But he didn’t go to sleep for a long time.

  Chapter 26

  THE NEXT DAY BEGAN with a warm, bright sunrise. A spring morning with the prairie greening and the fruit trees in Mrs. Perry’s orchard coming into blossom. But inside the Rocking M ranch house it was anything but bright and sunny.

  Everyone was at the table early that morning. Livy’s lips were turned down at the corners and her eyes were red and puffy. And the rest of them looked almost as bad. Mrs. Perry’s eyes were almost as red as Livy’s and Miss Hooper and Missus Julia were silent and solemn. Even Hy’s wrinkles seemed deeper and droopier than usual.

  There was some talk about going to California, but not much. Missus Julia looked pale and tired and Miss Hooper said that everyone was too upset to discuss it any further for the moment But there would be, she said, lots of time to talk and make plans before the summer was over, and nothing would be happening until then.

  Gib ate his breakfast quickly and hurried out to the barn. To the barn and the horses. It made him feel better, at least a little better, to see them acting just like always, nickering and nodding over their stall doors. He gave Silky and Dandy their oats, and while they were eating he climbed up and threw down hay for the rest of the stock. Then he got on with the saddling. Dandy was ready and waiting at the hitching rack and Gib was just leading Silky out of the barn when Livy came out of the house.

  The ride into Longford that morning was a silent affair. Once or twice Gib thought about trying to start a conversation. Like perhaps, “It’s not forever. You’ll be coming back.” But there was a part of him that didn’t want to be comforting. A part that kept remembering that nobody had even noticed that he might need some comforting too.

  When they were in sight of the school Livy spoke for the first time. Turning to Gib, she said, “Are my eyes still red?”

  Gib reined Silky closer to Dandy. “Well,” he said, “not very.”

  The red-rimmed blue eyes squinted angrily. “I hope they are,” she said. “I hope everyone asks me what’s wrong. Miss Hooper said I wasn’t to talk about it yet, but if my friends ask I’ll have to tell them. Won’t I?” Livy’s chin was quivering. “I’ll have to tell them, because if I don’t they’ll just keep on asking.”

  It was still early when they reached the school and, except for a couple of primary-grade boys throwing a baseball back and forth, there was no one on the playground. As Gib pulled Silky to a stop and reached for Dandy’s reins, he said, “Yeah, I suppose you’ll have to tell them something.”

  He had more to say and he said it, but maybe not loud enough for Livy to make out. “You could tell them I’ll still be here,” was what he muttered. Then, in a tone of voice that left a bitter taste in his mouth, he added, “That ought to cheer them up considerable.” Then he spun Silky around and galloped toward Longford. Dandy had to stretch himself some to keep up but, as Gib was finding out, angry feelings were hard to outrun.

  The anger was there most of the day. Gib felt it a lot when Livy’s friends crowded around her whispering mournfully instead of chattering and giggling as usual—and, as usual, not saying anything at all to Gib. Not even to ask him whether he’d be going away too. Nobody asked Gib about anything. Both Bertie and Graham talked to him some, but all Bertie wanted to talk about was Josephine’s split hoof. And Graham, who’d been reading up on the pioneers, wanted to tell Gib about the Donner Party. But at that particular moment Gib found it hard to concentrate on other people’s problems. Not even real bad ones like the Donner Party’s.

  It wasn’t until evening that anyone asked Gib how he felt about being asked to stay on at the Rocking M instead of going to California. It was Missus Julia who asked. Right after supper she had Gib push her chair into the library while the others were still in the kitchen.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” she said, while he was still arranging her chair and setting the hand brake. “I can see you’re upset about the changes we’re all facing. And I certainly understand.”

  She paused and sighed before she went on, “I’d like to have you come with us, but it’s just that so much depends on you here. Hy says he doesn’t see how he could manage without you. And then there’s Mr. Morrison and the Circle Bar too. I’m sure Mr. Morrison needs your help almost as much as Hy does.”

  Gib looked away. His face was warming the way it did when he was embarrassed. He continued to look away as Missus Julia went on about how much everyone admired what he could do. Then she said, “Look at me, Gib.” And when he did she said, “About school. I want to be sure you understand that nothing, no responsibilities at the Circle Bar or here at home either, will come before your education. I’ve written to Mr. Shipley, and he will be expecting you to continue at Longford School.”

  Just about then Livy and Miss Hooper came into the library and Missus Julia patted Gib’s hand and said they’d talk some more in a day or two.

  Gib’s answering grin came easier than he thought it might. And when he said, “That’s all right, ma’am. I don’t mind staying here,” he almost meant it. Now that he’d had time to think about it, he told himself as he got out the dominoes, he didn’t really want to live in a city. Didn’t want to live in a place where there were people bumping elbows with you and stepping on your heels all the time. Yes, sir, he told himself, he didn’t see how he could live in a place like that, no matter who else was going to be there.

  He went on telling himself he’d meant what he said until the domino game was over and he had gone up to bed.

  Lying there waiting, waiting for a very long time, to go to sleep, he kept reminding himself that he wasn’t angry. It wasn’t Missus Julia’s fault that she had been so poorly all winter. And adoption papers probably wouldn’t make any difference, just like she said.

  But what still hurt a little was when he recollected how Miss Hooper had put it, about who was going and who wasn’t. And the other troublesome part was about staying on at Longford School, where everyone would be sure they knew why he was still there, when the family was going away.

  Chapter 27

  IT WAS ON THE next Friday, just a few days after that conversation with Missus Julia, that Gib and Livy arrived at school a little bit early. Now that the weather was so fine there were ball games before school on nice Fridays, and lots of people came early to play or watch. Usually only the best ballplayers got to play on the Friday morning teams, so Gib, who’d never gotten much practice at game playing at Lovell House, was one of the watchers. Gib, along with all the girls and the primary boys, and even a few parents who sometimes stopped by to watch on their way to do business in Longford.

  Livy was still being mournful during the first part of the ride into school that day, but she cheered up some as they got near the playground and the ball game. A crowd was already gathering and, jumping down off Dandy, Livy threw Gib the reins, grabbed her books and lunch, and took off at a run. Gib watched her go for a second before he touched Silky with his heels and set off for the livery stable at a good clip.

  When he pulled up in front of Appleton’s only a few minutes later it was still pretty early, so he wasn’t too surprised when nobody came out to meet him. Gib yelled, “Ernie!” a couple of times before he gave up and led both the horses into the stable. There was still no sign of Ernie as they passed the blacksmith’s shop and the tie stalls and went on toward the box stalls at the back of the building.

  That was Ernie for you, Gib thought, disappearing on the one morning you needed him to be extra early. But then again, that wasn’t really fair to old Ernie. Even though he wasn’t too dependable late in the day, when he’d had time to bum a few drinks, he usually was right sober an
d ready to take care of business in the mornings.

  Gib sighed. If he had to take care of the horses and put the tack away himself, he’d surely miss the whole game. He’d just about given up on Ernie entirely, when suddenly there he was sitting on a bale of bedding straw talking to a stranger. A dusty, weather-beaten stranger, wearing a floppy old Stetson that hung down over a long beaky nose. Probably a cowboy drifting through Longford on his way to look for work, Gib thought, and for a moment it crossed his mind to mention that Hy Carter was fixing to hire some extra riders for the Circle Bar’s spring roundup. But when he noticed the stranger grab a bottle away from Ernie and stuff it into his own pocket, Gib kept his mouth shut. An early-morning drinker would not be the kind of rider Hy was looking to hire.

  About then Ernie noticed Gib and, jumping up, he started to take care of business. His dusty friend stood up too and lent a hand, leading Dandy to his stall while Ernie took care of Silky. “Hey, glad to see you,” was all Gib said to Ernie. “Baseball morning. Gotta hurry.”

  Gib was running by the time he reached the street, but suddenly he slid to a stop. Coming right his way, straight down Main Street, was a high-crested dapple gray carrying a tall man in an extra big Stetson. Sure enough, it was Mr. Morrison, and he was riding Ghost. Riding a calm, sensible-acting Ghost along a busy and noisy downtown street.

  Hurrying to the ball game or not, Gib just had to stop for a minute to talk. To talk, and mostly to listen to Mr. Morrison telling him how well Ghost had been doing, and how, even though it was his first trip into town, there’d been no trouble at all.

  “I had some business to take care of in town today. Still, I can tell you I thought twice about riding in on this fellow,” Mr. Morrison told Gib. “But thanks to you, Gibson, there’s been no trouble at all. To you, and to the hackamore, no doubt.” Mr. Morrison leaned forward and patted the gray’s neck where the hackamore’s rein crossed it. “He’s been cool as a cucumber, haven’t you, old boy?”