Free The Ghost's Grave by Peg Kehret Page A

each other.
    â€œWill you do it?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know, Willie. I could get in big-time trouble if I’m caught.”
    Visions of being grounded for a year floatedthrough my mind. On the other hand, I had no friends in Minneapolis yet, so what did it matter if Mom and Steven took away phone privileges and made me stay home all the time?
    I considered discussing the situation with Aunt Ethel—but she hadn’t been able to see Willie when Florence did and had never believed the tree house was haunted, so she probably wouldn’t believe that I saw him now. Or, if she did, she’d make me stay away from it.
    Most actions that are against the law are obviously wrong—things like shoplifting or arson—and I’d never, ever do them. This was different. Digging up Willie’s leg was probably illegal, but I didn’t think it was immoral. I thought it was the right thing to do.
    â€œI’ll be your lookout,” Willie said. “I can warn you if anyone’s coming.”
    â€œI hope I won’t regret this.”
    â€œYou’ll do it?”
    â€œI’ll do it.”
    A grin spread across Willie’s face, making him look lit up from the inside. “Go get a spade. You can dig right now.”
    â€œNot so fast. Before I dig up your leg, I need to know where I’m going to take it. Once I have it, I’ll want to get it buried again as quickly as I can.”
    â€œFollow me. I’ll show you where I’m buried.”
    Oh, man. It’s so bizarre when he says stuff like that. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.
    â€œHow far is it from here?” I asked. I was already a long way from Aunt Ethel’s house, and my legs were still sore from the bike ride to Carbon City plus all the hiking I’d done.
    â€œIt’s two or three miles up the hill. There’s a gravel road that fishermen use.”
    I considered.
    â€œIt’s all downhill going home,” Willie said. “I went there yesterday after you left, so I know I can find the place.”
    Despite my aching legs, I decided it was better to go now than to put it off another day. I followed Willie out of the cemetery.
    He led me up the road toward Aunt Ethel’s house. She needn’t have worried about safety; no cars came along. We continued past her driveway, where the road narrowed. It soon became a gravel road impassable by anything other than an off-road vehicle. The average school desk would have fit in some of the potholes. I picked my way around them, hoping I didn’t slip and fall. If I injured myself here, I wouldn’t be found for months.
    Having only one leg didn’t hinder Willie at all.While I stumbled up the rutted road, he glided over the surface without ever touching it. Twice he disappeared. He was like a patch of fog, here one minute and gone the next.
    Once when he was visible, I said, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this. I had hoped I could ride a bike to the cemetery. After I dug up your leg casket, I planned to tie it to the bike, then ride the bike to where the rest of you is buried. Forget that plan. I’ll never be able to ride a bike up this road. It’ll be a tough walk carrying a shovel and a small casket.”
    â€œYou can leave the casket. Just bring the bones.”
    â€œNo way. I’m not opening up that coffin and taking the bones out.”
    Willie snorted, as if to say,
Huh! What a wimp
. “They’re only bones. They won’t bite you.”
    â€œI can still change my mind, you know.” I kicked a small stone to one side. “I don’t have to do this.”
    He stopped gliding. His expression looked the way I’d felt when I heard Mom say I couldn’t be on the summer baseball team. “You promised,” he said. “You told me you’d help me.”
    â€œOh, all right, I won’t back out, but let me do it my way. The leg stays in the