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“It was partly about the ghostie people, wasn’t it? I saw them once, on the little train in Frazier. It
was a dream but I think it was real.”
His eyes widened. “Did you really?”
“Yes. I don’t think they wanted to hurt me—they just looked at me—but they were kind of scary. I
think maybe they were people who rode the train in olden days. Have you seen ghostie people? You
have, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but not for a very long time.” And some that were a lot more than ghosts. Ghosts didn’t leave
residue on toilet seats and shower curtains. “Abra, how much do your parents know about your shine?”
“My dad thinks it’s gone except for a few things—like me calling from camp because I knew
Momo was sick—and he’s glad. My mom knows it’s still there, because sometimes she’ll ask me to
help her find something she’s lost—last month it was her car keys, she left them on Dad’s worktable
in the garage—but she doesn’t know how much is still there. They don’t talk about it anymore.” She
paused. “Momo knows. She’s not scared of it like Mom and Dad, but she told me I have to be careful.
Because if people found out—” She made a comic face, rolling her eyes and poking her tongue out the
corner of her mouth. “Eeek, a freak. You know?”
(yes)
She smiled gratefully. “Sure you do.”
“Nobody else?”
“Well . . . Momo said I should talk to Dr. John, because he already knew about some of the stuff.
He, um, saw something I did with spoons when I was just a little kid. I kind of hung them on the
ceiling.”
“This wouldn’t by chance be John Dalton, would it?”
Her face lit up. “You know him?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I found something once for him. Something he lost.”
(a watch!)
(that’s right)
“I don’t tell him everything,” Abra said. She looked uneasy. “I sure didn’t tell him about the
baseball boy, and I’d never tell him about the woman in the hat. Because he’d tell my folks, and they’ve
got a lot on their minds already. Besides, what could they do?”
“Let’s just file that away for now. Who’s the baseball boy?”
“Bradley Trevor. Brad. Sometimes he used to turn his hat around and call it a rally cap. Do you
know what that is?”
Dan nodded.
“He’s dead. They killed him. But they hurt him first. They hurt him so bad.” Her lower lip began
to tremble, and all at once she looked closer to nine than almost thirteen.
(don’t cry Abra we can’t afford to attract)
(I know, I know)
She lowered her head, took several deep breaths, and looked up at him again. Her eyes were
overbright, but her mouth had stopped trembling. “I’m okay,” she said. “Really. I’m just glad not to
be alone with this inside my head.”
8
He listened carefully as she described what she remembered of her initial encounter with Bradley
Trevor two years ago. It wasn’t much. The clearest image she retained was of many crisscrossing
flashlight beams illuminating him as he lay on the ground. And his screams. She remembered those.