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The next morning, I told my mom I’d come home because it got too cold for us to sleep outside at Jax’s house. I didn't get much sleep. I kept staring at my bedroom door, fearing the lady dressed in black would be standing there, staring at me.
I had to rest my head on my arms because I'd lost my pillow. It was back at the house with the ghost. She had it. Maybe she would walk into my bedroom one night, holding it in the crook of her arm.
“Dirty boys...”
Sitting at the kitchen table in a stupor, I dipped my spoon in the cereal bowl and raised it to my mouth, but milk spilled over the sides.
Scott zombie-walked into the kitchen, curly hair standing out all over his head after a long sleep. He poured Cocoa Puffs and milk into a bowl and sat down across from me.
“Didn’t you sleep over at Jax’s house?” he mumbled.
I paused, debating whether to tell him the truth or not. I wasn’t in the mood to. “Yeah, in his backyard, but it got too cold, and everyone went home.”
He nodded and kept eating his cereal.
***
I MET JAX AND GARY at Dead Man’s Hill. Other kids were there, including my brother, Scott, and his best friend, Daryl.
We were quiet, sharing glances reflecting our trauma. The sun was high and hot, without a single cloud to provide coverage. Summer allergies tickled my nose and eyes, tempting me to scratch. To avoid roasting on our steel bikes, we moved into the shade of a tree on the backside of Dead Man’s.
“I didn’t get any sleep last night,” Jax exclaimed, and it was clear by his bloodshot eyes.
“Do you think we should tell somebody? Like our parents?” Gary asked.
I looked around to be sure no one heard us and kept my voice low. “Tell them what? That we lied and spent the night in an abandoned house and saw a ghost? For one, they wouldn’t believe it, and two, they’d punish us for lying.”
“No way. I ain’t tellin’ my parents,” Jax said.
“It’s not like there’s anything they can do. It’s a ghost. We’ll stay away and never go back.”
Gary nodded, but I saw hesitation in his eyes.
We’d been through a traumatic event together, and past experience said our parents could help us deal with that, but I didn’t agree. Not in this case.
“Man, it is freakin’ hot!” I said. “What should we do?”
My two friends mumbled incoherently. They didn’t have a clue, either.
Scott and Daryl rode down the hill and skidded to a stop in front of us. Daryl Griffin was Matt’s younger brother, and his personality was in exact contrast to Matt’s. He was one of those boys who always held a friendly smile, no judgement in his eyes, and a face that glowed.
“What’re you guys doin’?” he asked.
“Not much,” I answered.
Daryl and Scott glanced at each other.
“Tell ’em,” Scott said to Daryl.
“Guys wanna have a water fight?”
“A water fight?”
“Yeah. It’s going to be the biggest water fight ever! Everybody’s gonna be in on it. My brothers and their friends. Pat’s going to get his friends—just everybody.”
“Matt’s going to be there too?”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “And Tadd and Jeff.”
“Wow,” I said. It was rare we got included in something our older brothers did. I always wanted to be a part of their world, and this was a no-brainer.
“I don’t have a water gun,” Gary said.
I had some cheap plastic pistols, nothing fancy.
“My brother lost mine.” Jax scowled.
“You don’t need one.” Excitement burst from Daryl again. “We’re making water weenies!”
“Water weenies?” Jax asked perplexed. “What’s that?”
“You guys each have a quarter?”
“We can get one.” I nodded.
“You have to go down to Pederson’s Drug Store and buy a length of surgical tubing, find a writing pen at home, and then I’ll show you how to make one.”
“A bunch of us are going right now. Do you wanna go?” Scott asked.
It was just what we needed to get our minds off the horror of the previous night.
We parked our bikes at Gary’s house and walked along Redwood Road toward the city center. Our parents didn’t allow us to ride our bikes along the busy road because there wasn’t a sidewalk or bike path along that stretch of road. Walking was just as dangerous as riding, but we obeyed our parents because we didn’t mind the walk. It was at least a mile up and back.
Daryl, Scott, Devin, and his two friends, Ralph and John, came with us. We all strode into the drug store and marched to the pharmacy in the back. Sheriff Packard’s police car was out front. He was talking to a clerk when we walked in, but he didn’t see me. I preferred it that way.
“What can I help you boys with?” The burly lady behind the tall counter was always grouchy, tight-faced, and scowling, and it reflected in the tone of her voice. “Let me guess. You want surgical tubing.”
“How did you know?” I was surprised.
“A bunch a you was in earlier.”
She took out the long, skinny latex tubes and cut off lengths of it for each of us while she mumbled under her breath, “I don’t know what it is you boys do with this stuff, and I don’t wanna know.”
We paid our money, and while I perused the racks of candy, I heard the heels of boots click against the tile floor, and they got louder... and closer. I turned to face Sheriff Packard, who stopped a foot short of me, glowering.
“What are you up to, Mr. McCoy?” He looked at each of us frozen in our spots and silent like convicts on probation. My run-in with the law was no secret.
“Nothin’,” I said. “Just buying stuff.”
“Stuff?” He looked at the tubing clenched in my fist. “Whatcha got there?”
“It’s surgical tubing.” The pharmacy lady ratted us out from behind the counter.
“Surgical tubing?” He chuckled. “What do you guys need surgical tubing for?”
My mind was blank, my mouth dry, and I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Water weenies,” Daryl belted out, grinning from ear to ear. “We make water weenies out of ’em.”
“What the hell’s a water weenie?”
“It’s like a... homemade water gun. We’re gonna have a water fight.”
“Oh, okay.” He turned his eyes back to me. “You staying out of trouble? No more gangs?”
“No, sir. I mean, yes. Well... no gangs.”
“You sure? You guys look like you’re fixin’ to cause trouble.” For the first time, I saw a smile behind his serious expression and realized he was messing with us. “All right...” He gave me a friendly wink. “Don’t let me hear otherwise.”
Seeing our cue to bail, we scurried from Pederson’s and headed for home.
Once we hit our neighborhood, on the final stretch before we turned to get to my house, I saw her long strawberry-blond hair. She was around my age, and although I couldn’t make out all her features from where I stood, I knew she was cute.
She sat next to Morgan Anderson on the front porch of the Andersons’ home. We all knew Morgan. She was nice enough, with brown hair, glasses, and a mouth like a motorboat. From what I could tell, she was doing all the talking, as usual, and the new girl stayed silent and gave courteous nods.
“Who is she?” I asked my friends.
“I don’t know,” Jax said.
“I do,” Devin said. “She just moved in a couple of days ago.”
“What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. My parents went over and talked to them for about an hour. They made me come out and introduce myself.”
“Then how can you not know her name?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t remember, I guess.”
We stood across the street and three houses west. Both girls looked our way, and I turned immediately, acting like I didn’t see them. That’ll do the trick.
“Go talk to her, Romeo.” Gary smirked.
“You go talk to her.”
“Are you serious? I’ve never talked to a girl on purpose.”
“Come on. We got a water fight waiting for us.” Scott urged us on before turning to walk away. We followed.
I kept my head down as we passed the girls, pressing my peripheral vision to the max to see her. I wanted her to look back. It was hard to tell, but I’m sure they looked at least twice. I stole another glance before we were out of range. I had to. In that second, I imprinted her image in my brain.
We finally arrived at my house, and my older brothers were there. They had their water weenies made, and they helped me make mine.
Jeff sat down with me. “Here.” He took my piece of tubing. “You tie a knot at one end. You gotta make it a good knot so it will hold the water.”
For the most part, my brothers and I went our own ways and hung out with our own friends, but occasionally, we spent moments like this, and I secretly cherished them.
Jeff picked up my ink pen and unscrewed the top from its bottom half. “You take the pen apart.” He abandoned the bottom half of the pen and all the insides, including the spring, and held up the tip of the pen. “You only need this half. You push it into the other end.”
Then I saw it. The top half of the pen became the nozzle for the water weenie.
“When you’re ready, untie the knot and fill it with water, but you gotta keep your thumb on the nozzle so the water doesn’t get out. Then when it’s full, tie the knot again, and you’re good to go.”
He helped me fill it. The water weenie expanded to the size of an actual weenie dog and was about as heavy. I kept my thumb on the nozzle, turned so I wouldn’t hit anyone, and tested it out. The water shot out of the nozzle. The stream arced and flew a good ten feet. I was impressed.
A ton of kids gathered at my house, people from all over the neighborhood, including some we saw as enemies or bullies. I didn’t see Fernando, and I didn’t want him to be left out. So Gary and I ran to his house and knocked on his door. No one answered, the drapes were closed, and we didn’t see any vehicles.
We had turned to walk away when the door creaked open slightly and Fernando peered through the crack.
“Hey, Fernando. How’re you doin’?” I asked.
“Good. You guys?”
“We’re good,” Gary said.
“We’re having a large water fight. The whole neighborhood is in on it. Wanna come?”
“No, thanks.” He shook his head. “I gotta help pack. We’re moving this weekend.”
“You’re moving?” Gary asked.
Fernando nodded.
“Where? Why?” I asked.
Fernando shrugged. He appeared withdrawn and somewhat sad. An awkward silence followed, but I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I managed, “Well, I’m sorry to see you go. Good luck in your new place.”
“Yeah, best of luck,” Gary threw in.
“Thanks. See ya.” Fernando closed the door.
As we sauntered away, Gary and I shared a quizzical look.
“We better hurry and get back,” I said.
Gary agreed, and we bolted into a run back to my house.
Tadd, Jeff, Daryl’s older brothers, and some of their friends showed. Eight older kids and twenty-two younger kids ranging from my age down filled my yard.
“All right gather ’round!” Tadd stepped out and commanded the group. We all turned to listen. “We’re going to separate into teams.”
“I call captain!” Devin shouted, and then other kids started to repeat it.
“No, no, no. We’re not picking captains. We’re going to make this easy. It’s us against you.”
“You mean the older kids against the younger ones?” I said.
“That’s not fair!” Jax protested.
“Yes, it is. There’s like thirty of you rug rats, and only eight of us. We’re outnumbered.”
“All right.” I liked challenges, and I felt confident about our team. “Let’s do it.”
Then they revealed a hidden weapon. Tadd’s best friend, Sonny, stepped out from the crowd, carrying a water weenie the size of a giant boa constrictor wrapped around his neck. It was at least four times the size of ours, and he wore a cheese-eating grin.
“Go!” he called out and shot his fire hose at us. We ran from the stream, then everyone was spraying their water weenies.
Water flew everywhere. Nothing was off-limits. I got shot in the eyes and face several times, and the water fight expanded into the neighbors’ yards.
We scattered like frightened mice without a game plan and hid where we could behind cars, houses, and trees. We snuck from spot to spot, inching closer to the enemy. Sometimes, we got them, and sometimes, they jumped out of nowhere and surprised us.
I saw the new girl and Morgan at the end of the street, next to a tree, watching the great water fight and laughing. I puffed out my chest, ran some cool sneak-attack moves to impress the girls, and acted silly at times to get a laugh. It’d worked, I was sure.
The water fight was epic. It went on for hours and escalated to water balloons. Parents who were home helped fill up balloons, and we carried them back to our stations in big plastic tubs and wheelbarrows. Water bombs filled the air, but most missed their targets. Some of the older kids were talented enough to catch them without breaking them and throw them back at us.
It all ended when the big kids brought out the garden hoses with spray nozzles attached. We couldn’t get close to them when they had a weapon of that magnitude. It was cheating, and I reminded them several times the rest of the night.
The water fight accomplished our goal: we didn’t think about the Crooked House or the ghost all day. At least I know I didn’t... until I went to bed and rolled onto my side facing the door. It was cracked open. Footsteps squeaked down the hall. It was normal, but now it reminded me of that night. Is it her? I wondered, trying not to picture the ghost in the black dress peering in through the crack, her eyes wild, clutching my pillow.
I switched images in my head to the new girl and felt dreamy. I pictured us talking and laughing while she tossed her hair from side to side in slow motion like girls in the movies. It was a better picture to have in my head than thoughts of the ghost.