Free Ghost of Spirit Bear by Ben Mikaelsen

that. We all make mistakes, but maybe things can be different now.”
    Cole’s father stood, towering over Cole. His voice grew cold. “You get something through your dim-witted skull,” he said. “I don’t buy your act for one second. You haven’t changed—you’ve never fooled me. I don’t need you barging into my office causing any more problems. I’m busy now and have a lot to do, so unless you have something else to say, you need to leave.” He motioned toward the door.
    Cole started to go, and then turned back. “Dad, one more thing.”
    His father sat down heavily. “What now?”
    “Mom quit drinking and is doing great.”
    “I’m so delighted,” his father said with thick sarcasm, examining some papers he had picked up off his cluttered desk. “Anything else?”
    “Yeah,” Cole said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Dad, I miss you.”
    His father refused to look up.
    Cole didn’t want his father to see him cry so he rushed from the office and out onto the street. He blinked again and again in the bright sun. He had been such a fool to come down here. What had he expected—that his father would hug him and say he loved him and missed him?
    Suddenly Cole felt empty inside. “Stupid! You’re so stupid!” he mumbled to himself as he waited for the bus that would take him home.

Chapter 8
    F RIDAY, COLE ARRIVED at school early and found the doors still locked. He hung out near the steps, apart from several other students who stood around the ratty bulldog statue, sneaking smokes.
    The sound of a skateboard clattering down the sidewalk caused Cole to turn and look. He squinted into the bright morning sun. Skateboards weren’t allowed on school grounds but nobody enforced the rule. The skater was only a dozen yards away when Cole realized it was Keith.
    At that same instant, Keith spotted Cole. Kicking faster and laughing loudly, he changed direction, aiming straight at Cole. At the last second, Cole jumped aside. Keith swerved, too, but a wheel caught a crack in the sidewalk and sent him headfirst into the steps with a sickening grunt.
    The students standing near the bulldog laughed as Keith writhed on the steps, holding his face. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. Cole could see broken teeth and torn skin. Keith pulled himself down onto the sidewalk, then he collapsed and rolled onto his back, coughing and gagging on his own blood.
    Cole hesitated, then rushed to Keith’s side. He knelt down and pulled Keith’s head over so he wouldn’t choke. The students crowded around, but their laughter had stopped. “He’s hurt—get help!” Cole shouted.
    A couple of students ran toward the school.
    “Someone call nine one one,” Cole shouted.
    A girl pulled out her cell phone and called as Cole held Keith firmly. Keith opened his eyes, glanced up, and their eyes met, then he closed his eyes again, grimacing in pain. Blood kept flowing from his mouth and nose.
    “You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay,” Cole repeated, as more students gathered to gawk. It reminded Cole of when he had been mauled by the Spirit Bear. He knew the feeling of being helpless. What if Keith was dying? It was weird, but for a moment Cole felt as if he were holding himself.
    Finally several teachers came rushing across the lawn as the sound of a siren wailed toward the school. A red and white ambulance pulled into sight, lights flashing, and drove up on the sidewalk. Two paramedics jumped out and rushed to Keith’s side. One took his pulse while the other checked his eyes and looked into his bloodied mouth.
    “I’ve got his head now,” said the paramedic, allowing Cole to stand and back away. They placed a big plastic collar around Keith’s neck and strapped him to a backboard, then lifted him carefully into the waiting ambulance.
    Covered with blood, Cole watched the ambulance pull away. The office secretary approached him. “Are you okay?”
    Cole nodded.
    “Thanks for helping,” she said. “Go home and clean up.