The next day, Dad wanted to take a bunch of the stuff from the “somebody else could use this” pile to the junkyard before he had to take Asad to camp. I offered to come along and help, since it was my project, and since I love the junkyard, but Dad said my job was to stay home and keep Asad out of trouble for half an hour, since Asad isn’t good at keeping his hands to himself at the junkyard.
“Can’t Oma watch him?” I asked.
“Your mom and I would feel better if there’s someone around that other people can see and hear, just in case,” Dad said. “I’ll be five minutes away. Call me if you need anything.”
I sighed. “I guess we have to get our entry forms done for the fair anyway.”
HUCKLEBERRY COUNTY FAIR ENTRY FORM
Exhibitor’s name: HD Schenk
Phone number: (206) 888-1212
All entries are to be brought to the Entry Registration Booth by 9 a.m. on the date that category will be judged.
Category: Technology
Description: the computer I built from scratch
Exhibitor category:
PEEWEE
YOUTH X
IF YOUTH: GRADE IN SCHOOL JUST COMPLETED 6
ADULT
SENIOR CITIZEN
Special accommodations needed: electrical outlet for computer
I understand that I must present my entry to the judges when scheduled in order to be eligible to win. NO EXCEPTIONS.
The owner of the exhibit releases the Huckleberry County Fair from liability from any loss, damage, or injury to livestock or any other property while such property is on the grounds of the Huckleberry County Fair.
Exhibitor’s Signature HD Schenk
HUCKLEBERRY COUNTY FAIR ENTRY FORM
Exhibitor’s name: Mrs. Marietta Schenk
Phone number: (206) 888-1212
All entries are to be brought to the Entry Registration Booth by 9 a.m. on the date that category will be judged.
Category: Pickles & Jams
Description: my finest sauerkraut
Exhibitor category:
PEEWEE
YOUTH
IF YOUTH: GRADE IN SCHOOL JUST COMPLETED
ADULT
SENIOR CITIZEN X
Special accommodations needed:
I understand that I must present my entry to the judges when scheduled in order to be eligible to win. NO EXCEPTIONS.
The owner of the exhibit releases the Huckleberry County Fair from liability from any loss, damage, or injury to livestock or any other property while such property is on the grounds of the Huckleberry County Fair.
Exhibitor’s Signature Marietta Schenk
Oma handed me her entry form.
Eli read it over my shoulder. “What if the judges can’t see her? Maybe she should request an accommodation.”
“Oma, do you think you might need an accommodation, since you can’t be seen and heard by people?” I asked.
Oma sniffed. “Why would I need an accommodation? There is nothing wrong with me.”
Eli stiffened. “Sometimes people who are smart and work hard still need accommodations to do their best.” He looked away. “I do, sometimes.”
I watched him for a minute. He didn’t look like he wanted to say any more right now. “Is it okay if I explain, Eli?” I asked.
He nodded, but he didn’t look up. Eli likes to talk, but he doesn’t like talking about this. He doesn’t like people not understanding either. So I help him out, when he says it’s okay.
“Look, Oma, we’re not all built exactly the same, and sometimes people need accommodations. You’ve seen how careful Eli was when he wrote to you. That’s because he was thinking hard about what he was saying, but it’s also because his brain doesn’t see words the same way mine does. Writing down what he thinks is harder for him. Sometimes he needs an accommodation at school to make things fair. You know how smart he is—he just needs to show people that in a different way sometimes.”
I snuck a glance at Eli. He was staring at his sneakers. “I bet you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, Oma. But I think you owe Eli an apology.”
Oma turned to Eli, and her face fell. “I apologize, Eli,” she said quietly. “You have been a great help to me, and I did not mean to be rude, or hurt your feelings.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. S.,” Eli said. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but at least he looked up at us. “I wish I didn’t have to have an accommodation either. But they’re there to help us.”
The ghost nodded. “I see that now. What would you suggest?”
“Well, if the judges can’t hear you, HD could tell them what you’re saying,” Eli said. “Like this girl in our class who can’t hear what’s going on, so a translator signs everything for her.”
“Yes, yes,” Oma said, nodding.
“Wait, let’s think this through,” I said. I could see Eli’s point, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be a ghost’s translator at the fair. I had stuff I needed to do—like present my computer. Besides…“If they can’t see you or hear you, how will they know you’re the one who really made the sauerkraut? I mean, what if they give me the prize, just because I’m the only one there they can see? I don’t want to wreck your chance to level up.”
“Then you will tell them that I am right there, and that they must give the prize to me.” Oma folded her ghostly arms and looked stubborn.
I looked at Eli. I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to go well.
“Wait,” Eli said. “I think I might have an idea.” He left the family room. A minute later, he came back with his mom’s old camera that can do video—the one he brought so we could make a video of the goats on their obstacle course. “Maybe we can record a video of her.”
“We could try it, I guess,” I said.
Asad’s cartoon ended, and I turned the TV off. He blinked, and looked around. “HEY, ELI!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Want to play checkers?”
“HI, ASAD!” Eli shouted right back. “Not right now—I need to help HD with an experiment.”
“I will play with you,” the ghost told Asad, floating over to take her place at the game table.
“Fine, but we’re going to record you while you play, Oma,” I said.
“Make a video of me! I’m going to be FAMOUS!” Asad shouted.
“Yeah, okay,” I told him. “But, Asad, no more yelling.”
“OKAY!” Asad yelled.
Honestly, that kid has no sense of his own volume. Mom says it will develop with time. I’m pretty sure she’s wrong, though.
“Start it up,” I told Eli.
The ghost fluffed out her hair a little. “I’m ready,” she told me, with a big, stiff smile.
Eli turned the dial to the little video icon and pressed some camera buttons. “Three…two…one…Here we go!”
“Get ready for TOTAL ANNIHILATION, Oma!” Asad yelled.
“Never!” the ghost told him, still smiling.
Eli held the camera, and I set my watch timer for three minutes. We waited as Oma defeated Asad in, like, ten moves, and then tried to explain how he could do better next time.
When my watch beeped, Eli stopped the camera and brought it over to the table.
We all crowded around the little screen on the back.
I could see Asad’s head and the checkerboard—but not the ghost.
“Get ready for TOTAL ANNIHILATION, Oma!” Asad’s voice came out of the little camera speaker.
He giggled. “That’s me!”
I nodded. But I couldn’t hear Oma’s response, not even when Eli turned up the volume.
We all watched Asad move his checker. It was weird to see Oma’s checker fly through the air without seeing her.
“Your turn.” Asad’s voice boomed out of the speaker, so loud I jumped.
But the video hadn’t recorded the ghost’s reply.
Oma was staring at the screen like she hadn’t really realized that she was a ghost, until now.
“Turn it off,” I told Eli.
Eli stopped the video. “Maybe there’s a setting we can change. Something that can make her louder, and visible. I could check the manual.”
“You can check, but I don’t think it’s just a setting,” I said.
Asad ran back to the checkerboard. “I’m getting ready for total annihilation again, Oma!”
But the ghost didn’t join him. She looked down at her own ghostly hands, and I wondered if they looked solid to her. “What now?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “Maybe you could make a poster?”
“Don’t you still have to explain a poster to the judges?” Eli asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe we could put that she needs to do a poster instead of talking as a special accommodation.”
Eli examined our forms. “But it says you must be there to present it—“no exceptions.” I know she’ll be there, but what if the judges can’t see her, and they think she wants an exception?”
“No one ever entered the pickling contest with a poster!” the ghost said, frowning.
“Well, what would you suggest instead?” I asked. (That’s what Mom says when she wants someone to stop whining and start working, or at least help her figure things out.)
The ghost started to glow a little bit red around the edges. I took a step back.
So did Eli. “Um, Mrs. S., are you feeling okay?”
But she just kept getting redder and redder. Not like when Dad gets embarrassed. Like, Christmas-tree-light red.
“I must win the Pickle Prize!” the ghost roared.
Eli took another step back. “Um, Mrs. S., let’s talk about this calmly—”
“I will not be calm!” Her ghostly body was starting to boil a little around the edges, like she was too mad to hold it together. “I have waited too long for this!”
“I know, Oma!” I said. “I’m trying to help you figure this out!”
“I MUST WIN!” the ghost yelled, and it was almost-but-not-quite her scary ghost yell.
Asad’s eyes got big. He packed all the checkers he’d set out back in the box and ran upstairs with it.
“It’s okay, Asad!” I called up after him.
“Okay!” he yelled. But he didn’t come down.
The ghost looked after him. Slowly the red started to fade away. She floated to the bottom of the stairs and looked up after Asad.
I sighed. “Look, we’ll keep working on this, okay?”
The ghost tried to go up the stairs, but she couldn’t get past the fourth step. She never can.
“Let’s go find a poster board,” Eli said.
“Yeah, see what you can find,” I told him. “I need to check on Asad first.”
The ghost touched my sleeve as I passed her. “Please, Hans Dieter—will you tell Asad that I am sorry?”
She looked like she really meant it. I sighed. “I’ll ask him if he’ll come down, so you can tell him yourself,” I said, heading up the stairs.