“So, what do you two have planned for tomorrow?” Mom asked as we sat down for dinner.
Oma grabbed her pencil, wrote something down, and held it up like a sign. First we must check the brine, to make sure it covers the cabbage.
I sighed. Another day of sauerkraut.
“Actually, I was talking to HD and Eli,” Mom said, studying my face. “It’s their first week of summer vacation, and, last I heard, they’ve got big plans. I’m sure they’ll help you when they can, but you could probably check the brine on your own just this once, couldn’t you?”
Oma grumbled a little, then wrote, Very well.
Huh. Maybe Aunt Nia had a point.
“What’s on your list?” Mom asked again.
“I’m going to practice for my recital!” Eli said. “Ms. Izdebski’s on vacation, so we have to practice on our own, and make our own costumes this year. HD said he’d help.”
“And…?” Mom asked him, eyebrows raised.
Eli thought for a minute. “And call my mom, between nine and noon!”
“Eli can call his mom, and then we can take the goats over to Maple Falls,” I told Mom. “A scientist who studies crows is coming to speak, and Mr. Z. asked them to open the rec room doors so we see her from the lawn.”
“I forgot about that,” Eli said. “Awesome!”
“After that, we should probably take the goats to Uncle Gregor’s with us,” I said. “We can start working on their obstacle course, and then I can start on sorting out the basement, and Eli can practice his routine.”
Dad nodded. “Some science, some fun, and some work—I like it. Just be home in time to do your chores before dinner.”
“Eli, does that sound good to you?” Mom asked.
“It sounds great!” Eli said.
“I want to come too!” Asad wailed.
“You’ve got camp tomorrow, buddy,” Dad said. “And then you promised Gloria and Ernie you’d draw some more pictures for the shop. Remember?”
Asad thought about that. “Okay,” he said finally, still grumpy.
Mom turned to where Oma’s pencil was floating. “Marietta, what are your plans for tomorrow?”
Oma underlined what she had already written, and held it up. “You will have time, before you leave,” she told me, a little defensively.
I sighed. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t end up being just one thing I had to help her with. Not with Oma and sauerkraut. But she was right, I could make time. “Okay, we’ll help you first,” I told her.
Dad looked at me. “Hey, Oma, Asad and I missed out on helping you make the sauerkraut. Could we help you check the brine tomorrow?”
Oma looked surprised, then a little uncertain. Yes, thank you, she wrote at last.
Dad nodded. “We’ll do that before I take Asad to camp, then. Will you be okay all day while we’re gone?” He hesitated. “HD, should we leave the TV on or something?”
But Oma was already writing again. I will go with HD.
“Uh, Mrs. S., that might be kind of tricky, now that your crock is all full of sauerkraut,” Eli said. “What if it fell over and spilled?”
Then we would make sauerkraut again, Oma wrote. I have spent more than fifty years alone. Now I want to spend time with my grandson.
“You mean your great-great-grandson,” Eli pointed out.
“Maybe we should let HD and Eli do their own thing tomorrow,” Mom said. “We’ll see them at dinner, after all.”
But I was thinking it over. Oma had been lonely for a long time. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, but I still felt bad for her. Would taking her along stop me from doing my thing? Not really, I decided—at least, not if we left on time.
Some superheroes have handlers—people who make things work smoothly for them in the world. Like the Avengers had Nick Fury and Agent Coulson and Agent Hill. I guess Oma had already decided that I would be her handler.
Maybe I wasn’t the only person who could see the ghost. Maybe I freaked out some when I first met her—more than Asad did, anyway. (Although he hadn’t met her in Uncle Gregor’s spooky basement, and he had a heads-up first. I like to think I’d have done better under those conditions too.) But I got over it, and did my research, and I’d had a lot of practice helping her since then, figuring out her Grand Purpose and making sauerkraut. So maybe I was the right person for the job after all.
“Okay,” I told her. “You can come too.”
The next morning, Mom went to work, and Dad made pancakes for us. Then he and Asad helped Oma check the sauerkraut while Eli called his mom and I figured out how to take a crock full of sauerkraut with us to Maple Falls.
First I thought about what my design needed to do: get a heavy crock to Maple Falls without falling over, sloshing, spilling, or rattling around.
Next I gathered my supplies and tools: the wagon, a bunch of towels, masking tape, two bungee cords, the old hammock, some string, a pair of scissors, and a clean water bottle.
After that I went to see how Dad and Asad and Oma were doing.
Just in time too. “What’s sauerruben?” Asad asked.
“We will make it! All we will need is some turnips, and another box of salt—”
“Hey, Oma, do you still want to come?” I asked. (I know interrupting is rude, but it would be impossible to wait until Oma was done discussing sauerkraut, and sauer- everything else.)
“Yes, I will go with you,” Oma said, floating over.
“Okay,” I said. “Dad, can you bring Oma’s crock out to the wagon for me?”
Sometimes people think Dad can’t lift heavy stuff, or drive, or do much of anything since he lost part of his leg. But Dad’s really strong, and Mom says he went right back to working out once he got his new leg fitted. He has a special leg that can handle all the heavy stuff he has to lift at the auto body shop, so Oma’s crock was no big deal for him. Uncle Gregor said he should train up and try out for the Paralympics. But Dad told him he has his hands full with the shop and all of us right now. Too bad; it would have been cool to go see him compete.
Dad set the crock in the wagon. “Are you going to be able to get this out again safely?”
I bent my knees and tried lifting the crock. It was heavy when it was empty, and it was way heavier full. The handles wouldn’t make it easy for me and Eli to lift it together either. “Oma, you might have to stay in the kitchen at Uncle Gregor’s, with the wagon—I’m not sure I can carry your crock all the way down to the basement. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes,” Oma said. “I never wish to see that basement again. Does Gregor make sauerkraut?”
“We’re good,” I told Dad.
He nodded, and helped me pack the towels around the crock, tape the lid down so it wouldn’t bounce, and wrap bungee cords around the neck of the crock, hooking them over the sides of the wagon. I tied the hammock over the top, and Dad jostled the wagon to see if everything was secure, then gave me a thumbs-up. “What’s the water for?” he asked.
“In case the water in the moat sloshes out,” I told him. “That way we can refill it, hopefully before any mold spores get in.”
“Done!” Eli said, shutting the door behind him.
“How’s your mom doing?” Dad asked. “Did you tell her about, er, our guest?”
“She’s good,” Eli said. “Yeah, I told her, but she just said I have an astonishing imagination.” He shrugged and smiled. “Once she gets home and Mrs. S. can write to her, she’ll see.”
Dad looked relieved. “Great. Anything else you two need before Asad and I head out? HD, you’ve got your keys, right?”
“Yeah, Dad,” I said, patting my pocket. “We’re good. Really.”