Free Ghost of Spirit Bear by Ben Mikaelsen Page A

I’ll have you excused from class until you get back.”
    When Cole arrived home, his mother still hadn’t left for work. Coming from her bedroom, she spotted Cole, his T-shirt covered in blood. “Oh no!” she cried. “Did Keith do this to you again?”
    “Keith wrecked his skateboard.”
    “Where are you hurt?”
    “This is all his blood,” Cole said. “I helped him. I held his head until the ambulance came.”
    “You helped him?”
    “Someone had to.”
    All day, rumors of Keith’s accident spread. After Cole returned to school, kids kept asking him what had happened.
    “I guess he couldn’t stop,” Cole repeated.
    “Did you make him fall?” one student asked.
    “No,” Cole replied firmly, haunted by the memory of Keith’s scared eyes. He wondered if this accident would make Keith realize how foolish he was being.
    When school finally ended, Cole stopped by the office to ask about Keith.
    “He was admitted to the hospital,” the secretary said.
    “The one near the Interstate?”
    She nodded, raising an eyebrow.
    “Thanks.”
    Peter caught up to Cole as he headed out the front door. “Where are you going?” he asked.
    Cole didn’t feel much like explaining, but he didn’t want to hurt Peter’s feelings either. “I’m going to the hospital to check on Keith.”
    Peter wrinkled his forehead with a puzzled look. “Why are you doing that?” he asked. “He tried to run you over.”
    “I’m just going to see if he’s okay.”
    “You’re weird,” Peter said. “I hope he hurt his brain! Can I go with you?”
    Cole hesitated and then nodded. “Sure.”
    “Maybe we can go someplace afterward and try to be invisible again,” Peter said.
    Cole nodded but was lost in thought. The hospital was nearly a mile from school, and he doubted he would be allowed to see Keith when they got there. He still wasn’t sure why he was going.
    When they arrived, Cole asked for directions to Keith’s room.
    “Are you family?” the duty nurse asked.
    Cole shook his head. “Just friends.”
    Peter frowned at Cole. “Friends?” he whispered. “Like mud.”
    The nurse motioned down the hall. “Room three fourteen. He’s in bad shape, and his family is with him.”
    Cole hesitated outside Keith’s room. He found himself more afraid of facing Keith in a bed than on the street with his gang. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. Taking a deep breath, he walked in.
    Keith’s parents were standing beside his bed. They turned and greeted Cole and Peter when they entered. “Thanks for stopping by,” Keith’s mother said.
    Keith looked like a mummy with his face wrapped in gauze. Only his eyes showed. A straw protruded from his mouth through the gauze. Two holes allowed him to breathe through his nose. An IV bag hung beside the bed. A tube from it ran into Keith’s arm—he was totally helpless, unable to talk or move. Fear flashed into his eyes when he saw Cole approach. His gaze darted around the room for help.
    Cole fumbled with his words. “I just came to see how you’re doing.”
    After staring up for a moment, Keith reached to his side and picked up a notepad and pen. Awkwardly he scribbled a message and handed it to Cole. The note said,
Why are you here?
    “To see how you’re doing,” Cole repeated. “I don’t want you hurt.”
    Keith scribbled another note and handed it to Cole. It said,
Thanks for the help.
    “No big deal,” Cole mumbled. “You were choking and bleeding—nobody else was helping you.”
    Keith stared up curiously.
    Cole coughed and looked around. Keith’s parents were watching him. “Hey, we gotta run,” Cole said to Keith. “I just wanted to check on you. Get better, okay.”
    “Yeah, g-g-get better,” Peter said.
    As Cole and Peter turned to leave, Keith’s father stopped them. “Thanks for coming. I’m Troy Arnold, Keith’s dad.” He put out his hand. “And your names are?”
    Cole shook his hand. “I’m Cole,” he said. “And this is Peter.”
    The man