Chapter 4, Sauerkraut

The next morning, I woke up with a bad feeling. I stared at my posters and tried to think why. Miles Morales in his Spider-Verse suit, astronaut Leland Melvin with his dogs, the patent drawing for Lonnie Johnson’s Super Soaker, the Black Panther and Shuri, some Maker Faire Africa art that looked straight out of Wakanda….Usually they remind me I can do whatever I put my mind to. And today was the last day of school, and then Eli was coming to stay with us tonight—oh. Yeah.

I knew his mom couldn’t cancel her work trip, or she would have when our tech camp got canceled. So Eli probably had to come stay with us. But if we didn’t stop fighting, this was going to be the worst summer ever, instead of the best.

So while I got ready for school, I made a plan. Plans are the only way you can make complex stuff happen. I mean, you don’t just wake up one morning and build a space station before dinner.

First I decided what my goals were.

To convince Eli to stop being mad at me.
To figure out what’s up with the ghost in Uncle Gregor’s basement. (If there really is a ghost in Uncle Gregor’s basement. If not, I needed to get some help figuring out what’s up with me.)

Then I wrote down what I could to do to try to make them happen.

Talk to Eli and tell him what’s going on.
Do some research on ghosts.
Talk to the ghost and find out what she wants.

Mr. Z. had a poker tournament that afternoon, so I didn’t need to visit him. That gave me some extra time. All I had to do was call Dad to check in, and take care of the goats once I got home.

It wasn’t my best plan. But it was better than just waiting for Eli to stop being mad at me.

Eli’s been my friend since the science center field trip in third grade. He loves tap dancing, hockey, and science.

I’m not really into hockey or tap dance, but I like science too. And I like hanging out with Eli.

Well…usually.

Today, Eli didn’t say one word to me when I came into our classroom. I could tell he was still mad.

Back when we were little, when we first met, Eli tried to talk me into taking tap with him. “We could do it together. It would be fun.”

“Nah, I’m more of a maker,” I told him.

Eli didn’t get mad that I said no, or decide it meant I didn’t want to hang out with him. He just nodded. And ever since then, when Eli introduces me to someone, he tells them that I’m a maker.

That’s how I know he’s a good listener. And that’s why I thought that maybe he’d still listen to me, even though he’s mad at me, and why I wanted his help with this.

But he didn’t wait for me at lunch. Maybe he didn’t hear me when I called his name. Maybe.

So I took my lunch to the computer lab, and I typed up some questions for my experiment. I printed two copies, in case Eli ever decided to talk to me again.

After school, I got to the bike rack before he did, and I stood in front of his bike. “Eli, I know you’re mad at me, but I need your help with something.”

Eli crossed his arms. “I have to go to tap class.”

“I know. But after your class, would you come help me record data for an experiment?”

“What kind of experiment?” he asked, still mad.

“I think there’s a ghost in Uncle Gregor’s basement. You know, because of yesterday,” I told him. “But I need some help to see if it’s just me or not.”

Eli doesn’t ignore stuff or pretend you didn’t say it. He swung his bike helmet slowly back and forth by the straps. “Last Halloween you said you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

I nodded. “Right.”

“And you know I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Yeah, I know. But I want to revisit my position on this, and I need someone to be the skeptic.”

“And this is a proper experiment, not you trying to scare me?” Eli asked.

I got a little mad then, although I tried to keep it down. Grandpop says even when you have a right to be mad, you have to decide if you want to lead with that, because it doesn’t always help people listen to you better. “I’m not a mean person, Eli. I don’t scare my friends for no reason.”

“I don’t have good judgment on that,” Eli said.

I sighed. This was because up until third grade, Eli thought he was friends with a kid, but then that kid turned out to be the kind of person who tells all your secrets to the whole school and then laughs at you. “Have I ever told your secrets to anyone? Come on, Eli. I need your judgment for this experiment.”

Eli smiled suddenly. “Yeah, this is an area where you don’t have good judgment! Okay. But no screaming for no reason. And I have to be home when my mom gets off work.”

“Deal,” I said. “We go, we write down our answers, and we discuss things calmly, like scientists. No matter what happens.”

Eli nodded. “See you there at four.”

“Thanks,” I told him. “And if I’m right about the ghost, you owe me an apology.”

Eli nodded. “I hope there’s a ghost.”

So do I, I thought. I think.

I needed to do some research, so I rode my bike to the library. I didn’t have much time, so I didn’t walk through the makerspace, where people can make Lego robots, crystal radios, and a whole lot of stuff out of duct tape. Nope, I went straight to the reference desk.

Harry was there today, wearing his bow tie that looks like an old-school library card. I like Harry. Before he came to work there, I kind of thought you had to be a white lady to be a librarian. I guess because all our other librarians were white ladies. But Harry’s a Black guy, like me, and he likes learning all kinds of stuff too. (All the librarians do. It’s their thing.)

“Hey, HD,” Harry said, giving me the nod. “I hear the new Spider-Man comic will be here any day now.”

I gave him the nod back. Talking to Harry feels comfortable, like when we go visit Mom’s family in Oakland, where everybody knows what it means when you meet their eyes and nod your head, real slow. You’re saying: I see you there. I respect you. Nobody looks at you weird there if you wear a cool hat, or asks you how your hair got like that, or if your dad is really your dad. People here don’t always know that stuff, so I have to explain a lot. But when we go down there, it’s Dad who sticks out, not me and Mom and Asad.

“Let me know how it is,” I told Harry. “I need to read up on ghosts first.”

“Like, Ghostbusters? Or Ghost Rider?” Harry asked.

“Not exactly,” I told him. “They don’t have to be comics. I’m looking for stories about how people wander around after they die trying to get stuff done, and what people can do to help them out. You know, ghost stories.”

Harry smiled. “Do I have some ghost stories for you.”

I told Harry I didn’t need the ones where it was just someone fooling people, or anything about werewolves or vampires or whatever. But he still found me a pretty good stack.

“Thanks,” I told him.

“If you need more, you can always come back and ask,” Harry said. “Though I hope you’ll keep reading some comics too, or who am I going to talk to about what Ms. Marvel and Miles are up to now?”

“Yeah, you got it,” I said. “As soon as I’m done with this project.”

Harry nodded. “See you around, then.”

“See you,” I told him.

I pedaled fast, and made it to Uncle Gregor’s house before four. I unlocked the door and opened it, very carefully. “Hello?” I said.

Nobody answered. I set my backpack down right inside the door, ran into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

“Schenk Brothers Auto Body, do you need a tow truck?” It was Gloria, one of the other mechanics, not Dad. There was some kind of tantrum going on in the background.

“Nope, it’s HD, calling to check in,” I said.

“Well, your dad’s trying to explain to a customer why he doesn’t know how much it’s going to cost until we know what’s wrong with their car, Asad’s having a meltdown about not getting any ice cream, and I’ve got someone on the other line,” Gloria said. “You want him to call you back?”

“Nah, just tell him I called, I’m fine, and Eli and I are going to be at Uncle Gregor’s for a while. I’ll be home before he is. Thanks, Gloria.”

“Okay, got it,” Gloria said. “Have a good one.”

I hung up the phone and hurried back outside.