”Rehan, let go. You’ll make me trip,” Stephanie complained, raising the candle in front of her. I clung to her waist, my sweaty fingers clenching her long skirts and stained apron. Our steps nearly fell into sync, her worn shoes loudly crunching against the dried dirt beneath us. She was only planning to go to the garden to harvest some tomatoes, but due to how quickly night was approaching and how the trees cast shadows on the ground, I didn’t want to let her out of my sight. They began to sway and bend over in the cold, harsh wind, and dead leaves piled up in the grass. I shivered.

“Looks like a storm,” she remarked.

We weren’t the only ones looking at the ocean, which became more restless within each passing second. Other people fishing by the rocks lowered their nets again in the raging water. A woman trudged by with a large pile of sticks stacked up on her back. She gave both of us a disgruntled nod, although it was apparent on her face that she could tell what we were thinking. Not a single one of our soldiers were on sight—it was as if they had vanished into plain air.

Papa hadn’t been back in days. Neither had my sister. The pain in my tummy worsened because I had eaten my supper too fast.

Stephanie’s voice made me jump. “You should have been in bed over an hour ago. It’s quite late. I’ll tuck you in.”

I quickly shook my head.

“Now, we’ve talked about this before,” she replied. “You’ve been acting like this for days, child. There are no such thing as ghosts. No one is here except for us. And your father and his men are working hard to keep the Red Mambas out of our land. I’ve told you that. So you best brush your teeth, get into your pajamas, and hit the hay. And I don’t want to hear such nonsense about ghosts again, hear?”

Ignoring her words, I only held onto her skirts much tighter than before. She sighed as we made our way through the grass.

Once I changed, I immediately rushed to my room. Every shadow that passed by made my heart skip a beat. It was only after she lit another large candle in my hut and placed it on the table did a brief sense of ease wash over me. The harsh shadows illuminated her tired facial features, and Stephanie gave me a brief smile as I wrapped Security into my arms, standing near the doorway. She straightened her back and rubbed her neck.

She loudly blew out the match between her index finger and thumb with a single puff. A twisted trail of smoke rose from its blackened tip.

“Better?” she asked.

“Thank you,” I nodded. ”Can you please check behind the tapestry again?”

”I’ve looked there three times already. I don’t see any ghosts. Not a single one.”

“But there’s shadows.” With my finger, I pointed to several spots visible on the thatched ceiling. “Up there. And there. And over there.”

“Well, I can’t make them go away, that’s impossible.” Stephanie glanced at me. “Everyone has shadows, darling. Even you. See?” She gestured to two black shapes on the wall. “They’re right here to stay. They like it here.”

I began to rock side to side.

She gave me a long look, before slowly kneeling down to my level. She then held her hands out, beckoning me forward with her arms. “Come on. Come here.”

As I sank into her embrace, she gently rubbed circles of comfort on my back. She smelled like spices and grass. I closed my eyes and snuggled in her arms.

“You’re going to be alright. Morning will be here before you know it. We got all these strong people around us—ain’t nothing going to happen to you. And I’m right next door. I’ll be up till midnight doing some cleaning, okay? You just come find me if you need anything.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She released me and smiled at Security. “And you’re not alone. He’s right here.”

Mary’s empty sleeping pallet laid across on the other side of the hut, her blankets folded in a way that I never could seem to master. Her pillow did not have a single wrinkle in it.

I gratefully nodded, although sleep was the last thing I wanted to do. I took off my glasses and placed them on the table. A cold wind seeped through the tapestry, causing the orange flame to flicker and shake. Goosebumps rose on my arms as I climbed into the sheets and bunched them up around Security and myself.

“Can’t I get a snack?” I quickly asked.

Stephanie frowned. “You just had supper.”

“But I’m…I’m hungry again.” I rested a palm on my abdomen. “My stomach’s rumbling. It sounds like an earthquake. We can go to the kitchen together. I’ll even help you clean up once I’m done.”

“Nice try. And it’s not wise to eat this late.”

Reluctantly, I placed my head on the pillow.

She yawned and sat on the side of my bed. Her eyes were dark but warm, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I could see it was marked up with many scars and healed cuts, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had gotten into fights in the past. Her nails were torn up a great deal. Mary had told me that she used to be a heavy drinker, but that was a nasty rumor that people liked to spread around. I studied her round, soft features. I liked her face. It looked too kind to belong to someone like that.

“You never used to be this terrified of the dark,” she murmured. “Is there something that you want to tell me?”

”No,” I said, not wanting her to find out that I had been at Old Pete’s barn. I’d avoided going up there ever since, even in broad daylight, despite some of the kids inviting me to join them. I’d mostly stopped going out altogether. Security’s button eyes felt cold against my sleeve. Stephanie placed a kiss on my forehead, and got to her feet, heading towards the tapestry, which was swaying in the wind. A lump rose in my throat, and I scrambled out of my blankets, shivering.

“Can’t you stay here?”

“Sweetheart, I’m only outside. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you need me, you know where to find me.” She gestured to the candle. “That should last you all night.”

“But what if the ghost comes in?” My chest was so tight I could hardly get the words out. “He’ll come right to me.”

“Now, you know better,” Stephanie placed a hand on her hip. “There are no such thing as ghosts. You understand me? Not then, not now.”

”But—”

She gave me a serious look.

I lowered my gaze, though my heart was pounding like a drum. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now you get some rest. I don’t want you passing out in the middle of the daytime like you’ve been doing. I’ll need your help with the garden tomorrow. A sleepyhead isn’t much use to busy folk like me.” She winked at me. “Goodnight, honey.”

As she slipped out of the tapestry, I climbed back under the blankets. Through the coarse fabric, I could make out the faint orange color in the room. I curled up on my side, trying to ignore the nauseating pressure in my stomach. Instead, I focused on Security’s face, where a few loose pieces of thread hung from his large ears. I hugged him close, attempting to ignore the sudden stillness of my hut. Even the wind outside had died down.

The cocoon I had created was warm and comforting. Time to time I made sure to barely lift up the edge of the blanket to check that the melting candle was still burning. It was, glowing as bright as a star. My eyelids were becoming heavy. I yawned and turned my head on the cooler side of my pillow, Security’s soft ear pressing against my face.

* * * * * * *

I sat up with a start.

It was pitch black. The darkness was suffocating, and once again, I was cold. Colder than I ever been in my entire life. I couldn’t see a thing. Terror rushed through me as I scrambled to my feet and felt around for Security. My hand managed to locate one of his legs. Wrapping the blanket around myself, I ran as fast as I could outside, wanting to look for Stephanie and ask her to bring out another candle. The smell of grass and moss filled the air. I tripped over a bucket and fell against a patch of gravel. Wincing in pain, I felt something warm and wet travel down my leg, soaking the fabric on my pajama pants.

Clambering to my feet, I tightly hugged myself. The village was so quiet that I could hear the crickets settling on their leaves. A shiver ran down my spine, and I could make out a shadow, partially concealed by the branches of a tree. I stared back at it, breathing heavily. It stood still, more still than any rock or mountain I had ever seen.

Silence.

Slowly, I took a few steps backwards as a twig snapped. I flinched, accidentally dropping both Security and my blanket to the ground. The shadow did not move. I took off running, my bare feet pounding against the muddy ground. I slowed down some once I realized how badly my knee was killing me, but when I turned around, the shadow was gone. Panic rushed over me as I forced myself forward again. It was so very cold.

An owl hooted in the distance.

Pushing back tall blades of grass, I tripped and fell three times, before finding myself in the woods. Leaning against a tree, I struggled to breathe, turning my head. An incredibly sharp pain settled across my knee, and I heard footsteps quietly making their way towards the dead leaves. I drew back my hand, realizing that the tree trunk was covered in the cold, white fluffy stuff that Papa had found that day on the well. Crawling on my hands and knees, I made my way through the bushes as fast as I could. The thorns dug into my skin, but I kept going.

I jumped and scrambled over several logs lying in the ground, the scent of the ocean growing stronger. By now, my lungs were begging me to stop running, and the thick hot sand under my toes reminded me that I was in a place that was not meant for me. I needed to find a way to turn back. Palm trees bent over in the wind, swayed side by side. A twisted mango tree stood on the opposite side, its branches laden with yellow fruit—the same ones I had found in the barn.

The cold water suddenly sloshed over my ankles, causing me to fall and sink into the wet sand. White foam clung to me as I attempted to stand, realizing the shadow was closer to me than I thought. Another wave knocked me over, and I coughed up more of the salty water. Giant stones loomed above me. Before I could make my way over to them, two powerful arms suddenly scooped me out of the rushing water, pulling me out of the way of another large, crashing wave. My bare feet were lifted off the ground.

I released a scream.

Despite how hard I fought, I was no match for the ghost. Everything was blurry. They were carrying me away from the shoreline. I kicked and began to viciously beat at the arms and chest and face with my fists. They collapsed on their knees in the sand. My efforts were but in vain as they scooped me up higher sideways in their arms, my feet flailing in the air. Grabbing a handful of sand, I made sure to throw it at their eyes, or where I could guess they were. As I tried to crawl out of their grasp their arms retained their hold on me.

I loudly screamed again.

A silent wind passed.

I sank my teeth as deep as I could into the ghost’s left arm to prevent them from taking me away. Their body seemed to tense up in pain, and to my surprise, dark red blood welled up from the wound. I did this three times, wanting to leave their flesh red and raw. With my fingernails, I kept scratching the arms, the face, the neck. I clawed as deep as I could, feeling their flesh pile up under my fingernails. Long red lines formed on the ghost’s paper skin. Gathering as much saliva as I could in my mouth, I managed to spit at their face.

Their breaths slowed.

Screaming, I pushed away at their hands, trying to break apart their grip, turning my head to the side. No matter how much squirming and twisting and turning I did, they seemed to always hold on. The ghost’s chin, lips and nose briefly rested on the side of my face, and I could feel their chest rapidly rising and falling. Their fingers wrapped around mine.

My heart thudded in my chest. Using all the strength I had, I again kicked at the ghost’s ribs. There was a grunt. I scratched at their skin several times, causing dark blood to trickle down the surface. More sand flew up in the air due to my thrashing limbs. I moved my head down to bite their arm again but they moved it out of the way. I tried to pry my wrist away with my other hand but they had grabbed at that too.

Exhaustion settled over me. My throat felt raw and sore with all of the screaming I had done. Whimpering, I waited for them to hit me back, but nothing came from the darkness. Their breathing was heavy and labored, like they had finished running. A loud hiccup escaped from my mouth as I stared at the ghost’s dirt rimmed fingernails. Their bare feet were coated in sand and had a few strands of seaweed tangled around their ankles.

The waves loudly crashed against the rocks.

I sensed something cold and wet being rinsed against my throbbing, mangled knee, which I soon saw was covered in blood.

Gentle fingertips removed chunks of gravel embedded deep in my flesh. Both large hands submerged my knee into the salty ocean water for a moment, then brought it to the surface. There was a horrible burning, stinging sensation. I shrieked, hitting them repeatedly. The ghost’s breaths were now quiet, still as the wind. My leg was soaked in the water for a long time, before being raised out again.

I squirmed; the burning sensation was unbearable. Before I could deliver another kick, the ghost began to pat something dry on my knee. A slimy substance was being spread on top of it. There was a loud ripping sound; like fabric being torn in half.

I screamed again at the top of my lungs. Once more, I began to swing my fists at the ghost, but lowered them when I saw what I could make out in front of me. Something was being wound tightly around my knee. I turned my head away and prepared to deliver another blow to their face but stopped.

The ghost’s hand was warm to the touch—it wrapped around my own and gave it a gentle squeeze. I stared at the dark figure that loomed above me for a long time, my heart thudding in my chest. It held me as my breaths slowed and I unraveled my fists. Although I couldn’t see anything, I felt its eyes upon me. After a moment of hesitation, as if it were afraid that I would pull away, it slowly reached out, lightly caressing the left side of my face with its fingers.

Intrigued, I did the same. I held a hand out and poked at the very dark shadow. Then the ghost’s large nose. I tugged at an ear. Unable to fight back a smile, I continued to feel around their damp face. There were many scars and bumps.

The ghost held out both palms in front of me. I then placed my own directly on top of the two warm surfaces, amazed at how tiny mine looked in comparison to theirs.

* * * * * * * *

I awoke to the sound of distant voices.

My eyes fluttered open. I realized that I was lying on the ground across my sleeping pallet, where I must’ve rolled off of it.

The sound of the wind blowing against the oak tree startled me. Its branches shook under its force, and I stirred, yawning several times and wiping my eyes. My glasses were gone—I realized I had left them on top of the table. A blanket was tightly wrapped around me, and I stared at it in great confusion, remembering I had dropped it on the ground before. Security was tucked under my left arm. Suddenly, a sharp pain settled on my right leg. I rolled up my pajama pants and noticed a thick scrap of bloodied gray cloth—like it had been torn off of a jacket sleeve— tightly bound around my knee. I slightly lifted it up and took a quick peek beneath it.

A red spot settled in the middle of the giant, gaping wound. The flesh was exposed. Some strange, thick substance was placed on the surface; it had a greasy texture. When I touched it with my finger, I shuddered and immediately drew it back, realizing it was fresh.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

I put my glasses on, stumbling to my feet. As I headed out of my hut, blinking a couple of times, I realized that it was quiet. Not another soul was around, not even when I peeked into my neighbor’s yard. Their chickens were pecking against the ground, and two of their goats were munching against the dried green grass. I climbed up on the fence and reached out to lightly stroke the brown one’s fur with my hand. He loudly bleated, causing me to giggle.

Another uproar sounded down below, and I turned my head to the side and jumped down, making my way past the bushes. I made sure to wave goodbye to the goat one last time.

A crowd had gathered near the coral reefs, close to the beach. As I made my way through the grass, to my delight, I heard a familiar voice. A broad smile fell on my face.

“Papa?” I called. “Papa!”

I wanted to tell him about the dream I had of the ghost. I knew he would believe me. Stephanie was nowhere in sight, so I assumed she was with the others. I awkwardly stumbled down the hill, nearly losing my footing. The pain shot up my knee, but I tried to ignore it the best I could. Making my way delicately across the sharp rocks, I reached the bottom of the sand dune, where multiple men were gathered around the sight. I pushed past them, squeezing between and around their legs, trying to get a glimpse of his blonde hair.

When I reached the clearing around them, my steps slowly stopped. “Papa?”

His back was facing me.

A man laid on top of the ground. At first, I thought he was fast asleep. But a very thick, long, clear shard of ice was stuck in the middle of his head, like a thumbtack. Something wasn’t right with his neck and left leg. Chunks of bone and flesh were strewn out on the sand below. A dark red puddle of blood had spread outwards, and flies and maggots collected from his open mouth. I took a couple steps back, unable to tear my eyes away. His face looked quite familiar—and then I noticed the K shaped scar on his clay covered cheek. His gaze was focused permanently on the cliffs above.

My father’s face was red, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was kneeling at the man’s side; and stood to his feet. The moment he turned around and saw me, he immediately rushed over and grabbed my arm, clamping a hand over my eyes at the sight. I struggled as he began to pull me away from the crowd, dragging me against the sand. His strides were much longer than mine, and I had a hard time keeping up because he was walking so fast. The sky was gray and cloudy above.

“Papa?” I asked. My ears were ringing. I rushed forward to give him a hug, but he moved away. “Papa, I—”

”You disobeyed me.” His tone was unfamiliar, cold. “You’ve been sneaking out and going to beach at night, haven’t you?”

”There’s a ghost, Papa,” I whispered.

He gave me a bewildered look. “For the love. Now you want to fill your mouth with filthy lies? If you actually took the time to follow instructions, you wouldn’t be poking your nose in places it doesn’t belong.”

”But I saw a ghost! I’m not lying!” My bottom lip trembled. “I really saw one.”

”Why are you here? You are absolutely forbidden to cross the coral reefs. You never come here without my permission.”

I stiffened up. The third golden rule. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten it. I wanted to ask him where he had been, but I struggled to put what I had seen out of my mind.

Papa dropped my hand, made me roughly turn and face him. His dark blue eyes were unfeeling, and they made me want to hide. His uniform was wrinkled and torn, and a thick layer of whiskers covered his face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

My heart skipped a beat.

”I said, look at me.”

I did.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come to the beach?”

I struggled to speak.

Papa spied Security tucked under my left arm. Before I could even come up with a response, he snatched him out of my grasp. I reached out and tried to grab him back, but he began to march forward, his boots making deep prints against the mud. His rifle hung from his back. I ran after him. We were nearing the village, right near a few campfires. Smoke rose in the air.

“Papa?”

”How dare you come down here.”

”But I—”

“This toy has had a bad influence on you. It’s from a weak source.” His fingers tightened around Security’s neck. “Something undeniably evil. Something that caused the death of one of my closest friends. That took his life like it was nothing. I won’t have such evil around you anymore.”

”No! What are you talking about?”

”It’s this fucking toy! I should’ve done this the moment it was given to you.” His voice shook. “The very moment. Of course! Why didn’t I?”

With both arms, I attempted to reach for Security, who was being carried upside down. I tried to tug at his jacket sleeve, but Papa easily pulled away. The crackling sound of the flames made my vision blurry. When he faced me, the orange flames highlighted the side of his wet face. A tear trickled down his cheek and collected around his nose. His Adam’s apple moved up and down.

I stood in front of him, breathing heavily, shaking my head. “No, no, no…”

“This is for your own good,” he fiercely said. “It’s dangerous, Rehan. It’s caused the nightmares you’ve been having. It’s brought a curse down on every person here I have sworn to protect. There’s an evil attached to it. It will corrupt your soul and kill you.”

“No, Papa, please, no—”

Without a word, Security slipped into the flames from his outstretched hand, catching ablaze, a mixture of oranges and reds and yellow forming together.

I tried to rush forward to pull him out, but someone was holding me back before I could. Stephanie was yelling something at Papa, and I realized I hadn’t seen her come out to us. I began to reach forward again, but there was nothing, not even cloth, just heaps of dark, charred ashes. My father was bent over, on his knees, sobbing. He didn’t look at me anymore, and the crackling of the flames filled the air. I stared at him.

Heat seeped through my veins.

I hate you I hate you I hate you these words exploded from my tongue, sizzling like hot coals. Water dripped from the tip of his nose and landed on the ground below. Next to him, Security’s remains burned and shot off in orange in sparks—I couldn’t make out his trunk or ears or arms or legs or anything. My father’s blonde hair glowed in the light.

I roughly pushed Stephanie away from me, ran down into the empty village. She began to head after me. I went into the main tent and tore up every piece of paper I could get my hands on, until there were thousands of pieces strewn on the ground. Everything with his handwriting on top was reduced to nothing. I went to Papa’s hut; began emptying out his desk, throwing his drawers on the ground, shredding all of his papers, his books, everything that I could think of, tears streaming down my face and nose. I took all of his important notes and letters and dumped them down the privy hole.

Using a shovel I found in the shed, I punctured holes in the walls of his hut, screaming uncontrollably. I had knocked down the side of one wall, split bamboo sticks lying everywhere on the ground. I was getting ready to destroy another one when Stephanie pried the tool from my hands. I tried to pick it up again but she kicked it further away from me.

Despite me attempting to move away, she picked my squirming form up. She scooped me in her arms as I broke down into countless pieces.

In the distance, my father began to walk over to us. His eyes were red and had dark circles underneath them. He was struggling to breathe. He stared at the mess I had created, then back at us. Stephanie glared at him. Her cheeks were flushed.

“Rufus, what the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer as she carried me away.

* * * * * * *

My chest was quite achy, and sleep was impossible to come by. They had a proper funeral for the man and lowered him to the ground. The next day, many people had loaded up their carts and wagons and had begun heading up north.

With a broom, I began to clean up the piles of shredded papers and notes in Papa’s hut. Stephanie helped me dump them in a large bag. I picked up the upturned chairs and placed the drawers back into his desk. I washed his bed sheets, which I had thrown in the mud, and hung them on the line to dry.

The moment Stephanie noticed my messed up knee, she panicked and took me to the village doctor, Mr. William, to examine it. But to her surprise, the man told her that had the deep gash not been taken care of the way it was, I would’ve gotten a very serious infection. He was stunned to see how well it was healing and that it had been covered in a herbal paste, despite him claiming that it would need several stitches. A large pink scar had begun to form on the surface, so he sent us back with a warning to keep an eye on it, more gauze and a bottle of antiseptic. Stephanie, in a state of bewilderment, asked me how I had been able to clean and dress it properly.

But I didn’t know how to answer her.

And I spent the rest of the day in deep thought, staring at the strange bandage—the torn strip with the uneven knots. Ghosts aren’t friendly. They are very mean and evil, looking to harm, even kill others.

When Papa came by the kitchen during breakfast, his hair was a mess, his shirt was stained, and he looked like he hadn’t slept all night. He opened his mouth to say something to me, but I simply took my bowl of oatmeal and headed outside to eat. He helplessly stared at Stephanie, who gave him a sideways glance but kept stirring something on the stove with a long spoon.

I could hear their voices behind the tapestry.

”He hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks,” he softly said. “He won’t even look at me.”

”Well, can you blame him?”

”No.” His voice was broken. “Not at all.”

”Then you need to give him time,” Stephanie murmured. “He needs space from you.”

“I know,” Papa slowly answered.

”Why did you do that? You had no right destroying the only toy he has. I know you’re grieving. But you have no right taking that from him. That’s all he has, he don’t have nothing else but a blanket and a few set of clothes I keep mending. Not even a pair of proper shoes. You just don’t like—”

“To hell with what I like,” His figure slumped onto a chair, and he placed his face in his hands. He released a stifled breath. “Rehan’s picking up on certain things I’m not ready to explain to him yet. How can I? And that…the filth that is responsible…I don’t want it near my son. I’d let it go over my dead body before it even thinks of looking in his direction.” He gritted his teeth. “I’d give an arm and a leg for that boy. That’s my son.”

”Mind your words, Rufus,” Stephanie said.

“I don’t want him near it,” he whispered. “He wasn’t supposed to see my friend that way.”

“I’m not sitting around here to listen to this bullshit of yours,” the woman replied, throwing a damp rag on the table. “You put so many expectations on this little boy. When was the last time you’ve actually spent time with him? He’s not one of your lieutenants, or a soldier. He’s a child.”

”He won’t be one forever. Everyone eventually has to grow up. I won’t let my son become a weakling or a coward. I won’t fail him. One day, Stephanie, he is going to take my place. The world is only to get uglier by then, so he might as well get used to it. It’s no game. Until that day arrives, I’m going to teach him everything he needs to know. I want him to be prepared for things like this. But he needs to understand the basics. Obedience is something he has to learn.” His voice was quiet. “Every child does.”

”Shame on you.” Disgust was written on her face. “That doesn’t justify you doing what you did. You think that’s the way to earn his respect? It’s sickening. When he comes of age and you are struggling and old, do you think that he’ll help you then? You think any of your children will visit you? You’ll spend the rest of your days alone if you don’t get your act together.”

Papa banged his fist against the table. “You stay out of my business. I choose to parent the way I please, and I won’t hear another word of it. I won’t take this slander from you.” He released a shaky breath. “I know I’ve made a mistake. Who the hell hasn’t? But I only have Rehan’s best interest at heart. Even if at most times he doesn’t believe it, I care about him and his sister, more than anything in the world. I truly do.”

Stephanie took a step forward. “Parent.” She spat out the word. “You don’t even know what that word means. Who raised your daughter after all these years? You didn’t make much effort to make time for her, so of course, I don’t think you’ll do much for your son, either. Ever since Jane passed, you’ve buried yourself in your work. And of course, you want to focus on everyone else’s shortcomings except for your own. To make yourself feel better.” She chuckled and shook her head. “You’re a hypocrite.”

I heard Papa rise to his feet. “You watch your tone around me. This is my final warning. The only reason why we are not lying dead in the middle of some prison camp is because of the sacrifices that my men and I have made to provide a roof over you and my children’s heads and put food in our stomachs. Don’t you ever forget that.”

There was a long silence, his words hanging in the air. Stephanie sharply exhaled.

I heard her leave.

* * * * * * *

“We’re moving,” Mary announced to me one afternoon. She set down the large basket of vegetables she was carrying with a thud and pulled her hair back. “I’m going to help you pack your things.”

I continued shaping the mud pie I was creating with my fingers, making sure to apply plenty of grass on top. With my thumb, I poked four holes in the center and placed a twig in each one. My sister silently sat down next to me on the ground and crossed her legs. She took a deep breath as she watched me mix more fresh red mud until it had a thick consistency and slather it all on top of the grass to make a new layer.

”Think of it like a new adventure.”

“Are the ghosts there?”

”The what now?”

I patted it down well around the edges with my palms. Shivers ran down my spine. I almost told her about the strange dream I had. “Ghosts.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“That’s what Stephanie told me. Do you think that ghosts can maybe be friendly?”

Mary frowned. “Why are you asking about ghosts? Who’s been filling your head with such nonsense? It’s all make believe.”

I shrugged. My knee itched terribly under the gauze tape, but I remember Stephanie warned me not to touch it. If I reopened the wound, I would have to get stitches. So I tried to focus on something else.

“Someone must’ve been playing a trick on you,” she replied. “Don’t be so gullible.”

I saw one, I wanted to say, but kept my head low. My hands trembled.

“Dad said that it isn’t safe for us here anymore. The soldiers advancing towards this territory, and they’ve invaded and bombed up the southern cities. We’re going to Flanders. It’s a big city, with many buildings as tall as skyscrapers. And people. You’ll be going to a school soon and make lots of new friends. I think you’ll like it, and you could use a playmate your age. And no, there shouldn’t be any ghosts there.”

”How long we will stay there?”

”Until the soldiers leave down here. Dad’s going to stay behind with his men. So it’ll be you, Stephanie, and me. And I’m going to try to find work to help pitch in with the rent of our new apartment.” There was a bitter edge to her voice. “Although I’m sure I can help him with what he’s doing right now. I’ve been doing it.”

”What’s an apartment?”

”It’s like a tiny house out of many in a building—like an indoor village. But I think you’ll like it. Dad said that as long as we’re away from the bombings and such, he can sleep easy at night, you know?” My sister hugged her knees. “And you’ll be starting kindergarten soon. Can you believe that?”

I didn’t care what Papa said. ”What if there’s a ghost waiting there?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Enough with that.”

A lump rose in my throat. With my muddy hands, I continued to dig a bigger hole in the ground. The stuff coated my arms and legs and was splattered across my face. Earthworms rose to the surface. A few crawled over my bare feet, and I gently picked them up, letting them settle over my palm. Their texture was cool and slimy against my skin.

I picked at the giant scab now forming at the edges of my knee, fighting the urge to scratch, trying to remember where the wound had come from. It was still quite raw —the exposed skin making me want to rake my nails across it a second for relief. Then I remembered the dark red scratches I had left on the ghost’s arms. The image of the dead man lingered in my mind, but I wasn’t ready to tell my sister about it. Or how I believed that the ghost did something to him. I wondered if she’d seen the body, too.

Can ghosts bleed?

“When we get to the city, I’ll save up and get you any toy you want. They have plenty of stores there. Whatever you’d like, yeah?”

I shook my head.

The earthworms observed their new home. Her face fell. I gently placed them down on top of my mud pie, watching them wiggle and bury themselves inside the holes. I thought about the ghost I had encountered. So far, since that night, it hadn’t been in any of my dreams. But I couldn’t remember dreaming in first place. I couldn’t stand the dark.

“At least let me get you something,” Mary replied. “I know Security meant a lot to you, and I’m not trying to replace him. I just believe that…” her voice cracked. “…it’s not like Dad to do something like this. He’s just been going through a lot lately. I’m not excusing what he did, it’s only that things have gotten more stressful. Grown up stuff.”

I said nothing.

She suddenly scooped me up into a warm embrace, not caring about the mud getting on her dress. Never would I had admitted it to her in a million years that I had missed her beyond what I could understand. My eyes welled up a bit as she patted my back.

“I know you’ll miss this place a lot. I will too.”

I had avoided Papa for several days, and I wanted to keep it that way. I was in serious trouble because his things were completely gone, but I didn’t care. Stephanie had scolded me for a long time for it. Most of the time he stayed in his hut. I thought I heard him cry at night, but I wasn’t exactly sure.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea with what you did with Dad’s papers. Those were months of work that you ruined—progress reports and records he was showing to his colleagues. Now he has to start all over.”

“Good,” I said, stirring my hands further in the mud. “I hope he never catches up.”

“Oh, come on, Rehan.”

“Serves him right. He can ground me as long as he like. I don’t care anymore.” I glanced at her. “And I don’t care if you tell on me either for saying that.”

“You think I’m a snitch? I get it.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t agree with what he did. I know he’s hurt you. But two wrongs don’t make a right. You think you could at least talk to him? He’s not angry at you about the papers, so there’s no need to worry. He’s been telling me all week that he only wants to spend some time with you. And he misses talking to you. You can’t ignore him forever, you know.”

”Want a bet?”

Mary sighed. “I’m serious.”

I stared at my mud pie. It was starting to topple over due to the heat. I began scraping at the ground to create another one next to it so that it would have more support.

”Please?”

”I don’t want to talk to him. It’s easy for you to say. He doesn’t destroy your stuff for no reason because he decides he doesn’t like it one day.”

My sister nodded, trying to mask the disappointment on her face. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” I looked away. “I did a bad thing. But he was so mad at me because I broke a rule. I think these are the contensenses he was talking about.” I wiped my nose. “All he cares about are rules.”

“You mean consequences.” She hid a chuckle, gently tilted my chin to make me face her. “I know you’re upset. But in life, this isn’t the last time you’re going to experience something like this.”

”I don’t know why he called Security evil,” I whispered. “Why would Papa give me something that he think would hurt me? Security’s been there as long as I could remember. Did he ever burn your toys because he thought that they had evil in them?”

Mary bit her lower lip, showing signs of discomfort. She stood up and brushed her skirts, avoiding eye contact with me. I continued to give her a long look. Then, she patted my shoulder and pulled me to my feet, squeezing my muddy hand. For the first time in my life, I felt like my sister was lying to me. And I couldn’t explain why.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I bent down to vigorously scratch my knee, but she drew my arm away.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”