Pleasing the Ghost Read Free Page A

you like books?” he asked.
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œI don’t, not much,” Colin said. “Gives me a headache to read a book.”
    â€œBeany,” Uncle Arvie said. “Beany bud booger—”
    Uncle Arvie examined the shelf. He looked and looked, at row after row of books. At last he said, “Wig pasta!” and just as he reached for a book, Colin reached up and took that same book from the shelf. “Nod!” Uncle Arvie said. “Nod pin wig pasta—”
    Colin leafed through the pages. “This book would definitely give me a headache,” Colin said. “The print is too small.”
    â€œLet me see it?” I said.
    â€œSure, just a minute. Wait, what’s this?” Colin had found something in the book. It looked like a letter.
    Uncle Arvie was going crazy. “Pin wig pasta a deester! Pin deester!”
    Colin took the letter from the book and put it in his jacket pocket. Bo growled at Colin.
    Uncle Arvie clutched his chest. “Pin deester a Heartfoot!” He pulled at Colin’s jacket, trying to get the letter.
    â€œHey,” Colin said, brushing at his jacket. “Is there something on me?”
    Uncle Arvie pinched Colin’s arm.
    â€œHey!” Colin said. “A wasp!” He took off his jacket and stomped on it.
    Aunt Julia rushed in. “Why, Colin dear, whatever is the matter? A wasp? Are you okay?”
    Bo dragged the jacket into the kitchen, and Uncle Arvie pinched Colin’s other arm.
    â€œHey!” Colin wailed. “Another one?” He slapped at his arm.
    â€œOh goodness, goodness,” Aunt Julia said.
    In the kitchen Bo was scratching at Colin’s jacket. “Here, I’ll get it,” I said. On the envelope was written, “Pin Heartfoot.” I stuffed the letter into my own pocket and took Colin’s jacket back to him.
    Uncle Arvie must have pinched Colin again, because Colin was saying, “Hey! Hey!” Colin swung at the air and slapped at his neck. “I’m going!” he said, rushing for the door.
    â€œOh, goodness,” Aunt Julia said.
    â€œAunt Julia,” I said, “I was looking at one of your books and I found something. I think it’s for you.” I gave her the letter.
    â€œOh!” She kissed the envelope. “It’s from Arvie!” She tore open the envelope and read the note inside. “Look,” she said, “it was written the day before Arvie died.” She read:
    â€œHeartfoot a lalley
    Heartfoot a sweel
    Pin Heartfoot pin Heartfoot
    Pin Heartfoot a teel .
    â€œOh, how lovely, how sweet,” she said.
    Uncle Arvie was staring at her.
    â€œWhat does it mean?” I asked.
    â€œWell,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure. Heartfoot —that’s me. That’s what he called me after his stroke. And pin —that usually meant me or my . But I don’t know what lalley or sweel or teel mean. It’s still lovely, though. I’m sure it’s a love poem.”
    Bo put his head on her foot and slobbered.
    â€œI bet this was for my birthday,” she said. “He didn’t forget it after all.”
    She read the poem again and again. Once she looked up and sniffed the air. “That smell,” she said. “Doesn’t it smell like—like Arvie?”
    Uncle Arvie leaned down and kissed her cheek. She couldn’t see him, but she must have felt something, because she put her hand to her cheek.
    â€œI’m feeling a little peculiar,” she said. “I think I’ll lie down. But thank you for finding this. I might never ever have discovered it.”
    I thought Uncle Arvie might stay with Julia, but he followed me and Bo out the door. He looked tired and sad.
    â€œYou miss her, don’t you?” I said.
    â€œPin sweel Heartfoot,” Uncle Arvie said.
    â€œI didn’t much like that Colin guy, did you?”
    â€œBeany