Ghost of Spirit Bear Read Free Page B

didn’t slow until they reached an old abandoned apartment building on a back street. Condemned and Keep Out notices hung on the outside walls. “This is our mountain,” Peter declared, entering between the front doors that hung broken and twisted.
    “The signs say ‘Keep Out,’” Cole said, following reluctantly.
    “That’s just for people without bowling balls,” Peter said with a laugh.
    “What if we get caught? That could get me in big trouble with Garvey.”
    “Caught for what?” Peter said as he crossed the lobby to the stairwell. “Carrying bowling balls into an old building? We’re not robbers or terrorists.”
    “No, we’re crazy!”
    “Better crazy than lazy,” Peter said. He glanced down into the dark basement. “I wonder what’s down there.”
    “I’m not finding out,” Cole said.
    “Maybe some other day,” Peter said, starting up the stairwell.
    “How many floors are there?” Cole asked, adjusting the heavy ball in his good arm.
    “I counted ten from the outside,” Peter said, leading the way.
    As they climbed the dark and musty stairwell, eerie shadows like ghosts fell on the walls. Finally, sweating, they reached the top landing. It was covered with broken glass. Cole glanced back down the stairs. “We didn’t take much time to think about our ancestors coming up.”
    “We’ll do that tomorrow,” Peter promised. “Let’s roll our anger away now and get out of here.”
    Cole hesitated. “If we roll these balls down the steps, it’s gonna wreck something.”
    “You can’t wreck an old building that’s already wrecked,” Peter argued. “What do you want to do—drop them out the window instead?”
    “That’s even worse—what if we hit someone?”
    “You chicken,” Peter said, walking over to a broken window. “It’s just an empty lot—nobody’s down there.”
    “Man, the balls will be going about a million miles an hour when they hit.”
    “That’s the cool part.” Peter grinned. With a grunt, he hefted his ball out the window. Cole ran to Peter’s side in time to see the ball hit the ground with a dull thud. “It actually bounced.” Peter laughed. “Your turn.”
    “You’re certified nuts,” Cole said, shoving his own ball out the window. “Let’s get out of here.” Quickly he turned and rushed down the stairs, not waiting to watch his ball hit.
    As he ran out the front door, Cole half expected to see police cars waiting for them.
    “Let’s go get the balls,” Peter said, heading around the building.
    Cole followed, surprised to find the bowling balls had not broken apart. Depressions in the hard ground marked where each had landed. Cole picked up his ball and headed for the street. “I’m getting out of here,” he said.
    “Let’s just leave the balls here,” Peter said. “Why carry them back and forth each day?”
    Reluctantly, Cole agreed to go back inside where they set the bowling balls under the stairwell.
    “Okay, now let’s get out of here,” Cole said. “This place gives me the creeps.”
    “Tomorrow we’ll think about our ancestors and close our eyes to imagine our anger falling away,” Peter said as they walked toward home. “So, what time do you want to meet at the grocery store in the morning?”
    “School starts at eight, so maybe about seven. Will that be okay with your dad?”
    “Nothing’s okay with him.” Suddenly, Peter pointed. “Hey, look!”
    Half a block ahead, Cole saw a flash of white disappear around the side of a building. He glanced at Peter in astonishment. “It looked like a Spirit Bear.”
    Peter nodded in disbelief.
    Both boys broke into a run. In seconds they rounded the corner, but all they found was an old homeless man, standing beside a shopping cart stacked with junk. His beard was choppy as if it had been trimmed with a knife, and even in the warm fall air, he had a ragged white blanket draped over his shoulders. As they watched, the old bum pulled out a piece of wood and began