I jumped as Tess screamed.

          Miles immediately started laughing.  I knew I’d been had – yet again.

          “Kind of scared-y cats aren’t you?”  Miles said smirking.

          Tess pushed passed me and got in his face.  “Enough with the jokes, ok?”  She stuck out her hand.  “Truce?”

          Silence filled the air.  All eyes were on Miles.

          “Yeah,” he said, “whatever.”  He shook Tess’ hand but he had an evil grin on his face and I couldn’t really tell if he intended to keep his word or not.

          “Miles, tell us more about the ghosts,” Tess said.  “Do you really think that one could have killed the dog, or is that one of you little jokes?”

          Miles picked up a rock and tossed it into the bushes.  “Some other time,” he said.

          “Why not know?” Tess asked.

          “Yeah,” I added, “tell us about the ghosts.”

          Sarah leaned in towards us and started to say something.  Miles pulled her away with a jerk.

          “We have to go,” he barked.  “Now.”

          Tess stared after them – a little confused.  I admit I was confused too.

          Miles stalked off through the bushes from which he came.  He was pulling Sarah behind him.  Luke, head hung low, followed closely behind.

          “Bye,” Sarah called over her shoulder.

          “Whoa.”  Tess said.

          “Whoa what?”  I asked.

          “They must believe that there’s a ghost out here.  Did you see the way they bolted when we wanted to talk about it?”  She said.

          I looked from Tess to the skeleton lying at our feet.  The perfectly clean gray skeleton lying at our feet.  The perfectly clean gray skeleton lying at our feet because it was picked clean.  The perfectly clean gray skeleton lying at our feet because it was picked clean by a ghost.

          I stared hard at the curled body.  I was searching for some clues.  But what kind of clues do ghosts leave?

          “Let’s go home,” I said.

          Tess agreed.

          Ben and Grace were sitting under the giant magnolia tree in our backyard.  Grace was pitting cherries while Ben whittled.

          “How about some cherry pie this evening?”  She asked.

          “Ooooo!” I smiled.  “With ice cream?”

          “I’m sure your mother could drum up some ice cream.”  She laughed and looked at Tess.  “Will you be staying for dinner and dessert?”  The old woman asked.

          Tess shrugged.  “If I’m being invited.”

          Mother came out with a tray of lemonade and two Vanilla Cokes.  “You have to be invited now, Tess.”  Mom smiled.

          Mom was right.  Tess was never really invited for meals or to stay over.  The same with me at her house.  It just sort of happened.

          “Just being polite for the guests.”  She smiled helping mom pass out the drinks.  “Want some help with the cherries?”  Tess asked Grace.

          “Lands no child.  I’m almost done.”  Grace took a long drink of her lemonade.  Her hands were wrinkled and so white that you could almost see through them.  I guess that’s what skin does when it ages.

          “Hey, what kind of animal attacks dogs?”  I asked as dad joined us.

          Ben and Grace exchanged a quick glance. 

“Don’t know that any do.”  Ben said shortly…quickly.

“Dad,” I asked, “could a coyote or mountain lion kill a dog without breaking any bones in it?”

“That’s highly unlikely.  Why?”  Dad asked.

Ben and Grace exchanged another glance.  Grace began pitting more quickly and Ben was growing fidgety.  I didn’t think it strange until much later.

“We met three kids.”  Tess said.

“Yeah, first in the cemetery and then in the field.  They said they’d lived here a while.  Didn’t say where…but we’ve never seen them at school.”  I said.

“What are their names?”  Mom asked.

“Miles, Sarah and Luke,” Tess answered.

“And get this,” I interrupted, “there last name is Tilley.”

“Never heard of them,” Mom said.  “Maybe they live across the river in El Dorado.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said.

“Used to have neighbors of that name,” Grace said.  “Relatives of some kind.”

“We found the skeleton of a dead dog and they said a ghost must have killed it.”  I said.

Ben looked uncomfortable.

Dad chuckled and mom full out laughed.

“Is that what they said?”  Grace said smiling.  “I bet they were teasing.  The Miles I knew loved to spin a good yarn.”

“That means tell a story,” Tess nudged me.

“I know what it means,” I said back.

“I bet this Miles loves to tell a good ghost story…just like the one I knew back is Salem.”  Grace said.

Ben took a deep breath.  “You’re too intelligent to believe in ghost stories, my boy, aren’t you?”  He asked.

“Of course,” I said…only I was less sure now than I had been this morning.

I spent the rest of the afternoon talking and playing cribbage with Ben and mom.  Tess helped Grace and dad make cherry pie.

We ate dad’s famous barbequed ribs and fries for dinner and had the best cherry pie I’d ever eaten for dessert.

          Tess’ mom agreed to let her stay over.  We were going to have a sleep out in the backyard.

          We camped by the guesthouse because it was close to the pond.  We put up a see-through mosquito net to ward off the bugs.

          The moon was full.  It shined into my face.  I couldn’t sleep.  I crept deeper into my sleeping bag.  I closed my eyes.  The pond frogs were apparently having a concert.  Their chirping and croaking echoed through the darkness.

          Then I heard something…and the ground sort of moved.  It was a dull thump.  Maybe someone dropped something in the distance, I thought.

          I closed my eyes, but there it was again.  Thump, quake, thump quake.

          I looked over at Tess.  She was sleeping.  She could sleep through anything.  I remember being a kid at Christmas trying to wait up for Santa.  Every little noise kept me awake.  A bomb could have gone off by Tess’ bed and she wouldn’t have woken up.

          The next time I heard the sound I braved a look in the direction I thought it was coming.

          The moon was shining on the lake.  It looked shimmery and silvery in the summer stillness.

          I lay back down.

          Thump again, only this time louder…and accompanied by a wispy wind that ruffled the netting.

          I turned to the vineyard.  Something moved.  Something white and pale…almost ghostly.

          It was moving towards me.