“Ghosts!  Give me a break.”  Tess replied quickly.

          I didn’t say a word.  Logically, I knew that ghosts weren’t supposed to exist.  I mean, me being a junior scientist and all; but what if all of the senior scientists are wrong?

          There are so many ghost stories – from so many places – it leaves one to wonder.  How could so many different people and cultures have the same story if there is no truth to it?

          Maybe that’s why strange, dark and creepy places scare me.  Maybe I do believe in ghosts.  Of course I could never admit that to anyone – especially, my strictly scientific best friend.  She’d laugh me out of town.

          The three Tilley kids moved close together.

          Sarah spoke softly.  “If you go near that cave, you’ll change your mind all right.”

          “Why?  Have you seen ghosts in there?  I mean actually and with your own eyes?”  I asked.

          Sarah started to speak, but Miles interrupted her.  “We’ve got to go now.  He directed his brother and sister back behind the cave.

          “Hey…come back!”  I called after them.  “I want to hear about the ghosts.”

          They didn’t even look back.  I could see Miles angrily speaking to Sarah.  Apparently, he didn’t like something she told us.  Maybe about the ghosts.

          They disappeared over a hill off in the direction of the river.  I guessed I was right about the El Dorado thing.

          Then, from deep within the cave, came the low piercing screech again.

          Tess raised her eyebrow.

          “Probably the wind,” I said.  I didn’t really believe it thought.  I don’t think Tess did either.

          “Why don’t we ask our parents about the cave?”  I said.

          “They’ll know we were here.”  Tess crinkled her nose.

          “We could just tell them why we came here.”  I suggested.

          “Let’s find your dad.”  Tess reasoned.  “He’d be our best hope of finding answers without getting in trouble.”

          “Good idea,” I said but something inside told me that we’d already found more trouble that we bargained for.

By the look in Tess’ eyes, I think she felt the same way.

We ran all the way home and straight towards my father’s workshop.  Dad owned a successful furniture building and restoring business and he worked from home.  Convenient when I needed something.  Not so great when I was in trouble.

          We raced up to the heavy wooden shop door with the name “Tilley” carved in it.  I pushed it open and peered into the brightly, sunlit shop.  The old floor creaked and groaned as we walked on the floorboards towards the sound of a buzzing saw.

          Dad was working alone, as usual.  He stopped the saw and lifted his safety goggles when he noticed us.

          “Hey,” he smiled, “I see you brought me coffee.”  He teased.  Dad liked us to bring him coffee when he worked.

          “Yeah, sorry,” Tess said.

          “Um, Dad,”  I began.

          “Um, Jake,” Dad teased back, “how much is it going to cost me?”

          I smiled.  Um usually meant I was asking for money.

          “Surprisingly nothing.”  Tess said.  “Remember that in about a minute.”

          “Well,” I began again, “we at the cemetery…”

          “Gravestone rubbings?”  Dad smiled at Tess.

          “Exactly.”  She smiled.

          “And we saw a light on in the abandoned house, you know, on the burial property, and then we saw this shadow.”

          Dad leaned on the bench and creased his brow.  Not usually a good sigh.

          “So we sort of decided to follow the guy, or whatever, was making the shadow.  We couldn’t really tell because it was dark under the trees.  The next thing we knew we were in the back part of the cemetery…”

          “Through the ground you’re not supposed to trespass on.”  Dad said.

          “Sort of,” I said.  “And we found this cave.

          Dad gave a little grunt but didn’t say anything.

          “It’s in the graveyard, covered by vines and stuff, but definitely carved out of the granite.  Well, not really carved but there anyway.” Tess added.

          Dad pulled his safety goggles back on.  “How ‘bout that coffee now?”  He asked as he started up the saw again.

          I looked at Tess.  She shrugged and then looked back at my father.

That afternoon, Tess and I sat on the guesthouse porch while the ancient, distant cousins, Grace and Ben, taught us to play whist – an old fashioned card game that I’d never even heard of before.

Ben seemed to enjoy teaching us the rules.  We teamed up against Tess and Graces.  Ben shook his long bony finger at me every time I made a mistake.

Grace and Tess talked a lot about wildflowers.  It was a hobby of both of theirs.  Grace told Tess of some Indian pipe she’d seen just yesterday behind the far barn on the back 60.  The back sixty is what we refer to the farthest part of my dad’s ranch.  It is the back sixty Acers and is separated from the rest by a creek and spillway that streams from the same river that feeds our pond.  It’s the part of our property that is closest to the cemetery.

Later that afternoon I found myself, once again, trudging behind Tess as we headed in search of Grace’s wildflowers.

          “Tell me again what we are looking for?”  I asked as Tess  dug through the fall ground covering.

          “It’s called Indian pipe.  It’s small and sort of fleshy-white.  It looks kind of like bones popping out of the ground.  It’s also called the corpse plant because it feeds off of dead plants.”  She said.

          “I thought wild flowers only bloomed in the spring.”  I said.

          “There’s always some type blooming.  These only grow in really dark places and look more like a fungus than a flower.”

          “Then why do you want to see it?”  I asked.

          “Because, like my latest bug, they are usually only found on the east coast.”  She said.

          “Maybe the ancient cousins brought this stuff with them.”  I said.  “They do look like they could be the walking dead.”

          “Jake!  That’s horrible.”  She replied.

          Horrible, maybe, but true.  They were so old and fragile and pale.  Like mom said, they were old when she was a kid.

          “The coolest thing about them is that when they die they turn black.  That’s why I want to try pressing some.

          I poked around some more leaves.  Now, I was interested.  I loved scientific freaks of nature.

          Let’s try the woods across the fence.

          Tess was talking about the Rosetta property that bordered the cemetery and the road.  It was more heavily wooded so I agreed.

          I started towards the biggest and bushiest tree.  It was growing next to a dead stump.  “Here’s a dead tree.  Maybe its home to some of your flowers.”  I said.

          I knelt on the damp ground and filtered through the dead leaves.  Nothing but worms and bugs.

          Tess was filtering her own leaves and didn’t seem to be having much luck either.

          Then, off in the near distance, I saw something white sticking out of the ground.  I went to examine it.

          A tiny plant stem was sticking out of the ground.  It was covered in leaves.  I pulled on it but it wouldn’t come up.

          I grounded my feet and tugged harder.

          The dirt moved a little and the stem came up slightly.

          I looked at it more closely.  It wasn’t actually a stem but rather a root of some kind.  A root with leaves.

          Strange.

          I pulled and tugged and exposed a bit more.  It was not a small root either.

          I tugged one last time and the root came up, displacing a huge amount of dirt.

          I looked curiously inside the rather deep hole that it made and let out an audible gasp.

          “Tess!”  I said in barely a whisper.  “Bones!”

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