MYSTERY
OF THE SINGING GHOST
By Ana Riley
© Ana Riley 2003
CHAPTER 11 – Page 81
“Poisoned?
Is he sure?”
“No
doubt about it.” Ethan is pausing
nervously. “That’s not all …
Fire. Broke out this afternoon,
just after lunch. Paul and his
family were at church. Got home to
find his grain bins in one of his fields
burning along with the straw left on
his field.”
“This
is awful! Who would do such a
thing?”
“The
Lutz’s are good people – part of this community for four generations.
They’re struggling like everyone else to make a go of farming.
Mr. Gustafson thinks it’s an outside job and I’m inclined to agree
with him.”
“Outside
job? What do you mean?”
“Someone
outside the Parklands. The farmers in this area are neighbors, friends.
Hard to imagine any of them capable of such a deed.”
With
the news about Jenny’s sister and now this, my ghost hunting expedition this
afternoon seems frivolous. I
feel completely helpless.
“What
can we do?”
“Your
dad is going to help Mr. Gustafson try to get to the bottom of this.
He’s going to use his own contacts and try to stay out of the limelight
so he doesn’t raise suspicions. Every
action Mr. Gustafson takes is under scrutiny not only by CAGG, but also
now by some of the locals. They’re
desperate and getting anxious to have something done about the farming
industry.”
My
dad knows a lot of people and his quiet manner gets him in and out of a million
situations that would otherwise be difficult, but solving a farming crisis and
now a crime might be challenging, even for him.
On the other hand, he may be just the man for the job, since no one would
guess that a schoolteacher would have any interest in farming.
I wonder if someone would attack our family in any way?
“Would
you like me to warm your tea? You
haven’t touched it and it’s probably cooled off.”
Ethan is so thoughtful. I
wonder if he was always this good growing up, being a boy and all.
“Thanks.”
“Something
to eat?” I bet he’d even put
jam on the biscuit if I wanted him to.
“No.
Thanks anyway. I’ve no
appetite. Ethan, will my dad be in
any danger if he starts looking into this stuff that’s going on with Lutz’s
and others?”
“Not
likely, unless word gets out that he’s helping Gustafson.
Your dad’s a smart man. He’ll
watch his back. He’s also well
liked in the community, even though you haven’t been here that long.
The kids liked him as a teacher at the school, and that’s always
helpful, especially when gang mentality begins to take over rational
thinking.”
“Are
there gangs in Yorkton?”
“Not
really, just wannabe gangs. Town’s still small enough that kids aren’t able to carry
on with much devious behavior since everyone still knows what everyone else is
doing. But, I figure 
it won’t be
too long before our little city sees some big city action, like what happened a
few weeks ago. Remember that house
the police surrounded?”
“Yah.
Alex said some motorcycle gang member from Ontario was visiting a
relative. The biker was wanted by
the police.”
“Word
is he thought he’d be safe in sleepy Yorkton.
Nosey neighbors saw this fellow, began asking questions and before long,
some wife of some police officer overhead some women talking in some bakery and,
well, you have the best information routing system in existence still happening
in this neck of the woods.”
“It’s
mind-boggling how bad stuff happens to good people.
First, Jenny’s sister and now, Mr. Lutz.
Things come in three’s. I’m
not sure I want to know what number three is.”
My
dad is standing quietly at the door of the study.
He’s got a faraway look in his eyes.
“Do
you want more tea, Dad?”
“No
thanks. I better call Alex in.”
“Do
you mind if I tag along, Mr. Cooper? I
was wanting to speak to Alex for a few minutes.”
Ethan is standing to leave. I
wish he didn’t have to go home.
“Sure.
He’s in the workshop. Gia,
would you mind tidying up and then getting your mother on the phone?
I’ll be in to chat with her in a few minutes.”
“Thanks
for a great afternoon, Gia. I’m glad we took the time when we did to do a little
scouting.” Ethan’s voice is so
sincere, so calming.
“Yeah,
me too.”
“I’ll
call you tomorrow. See ya.”
“Bye,
Ethan.” It’s not at all how I
want to see Ethan leave, but under the circumstances,
what else is there to do?
What a lousy ending to a superb day.
“Mom…”
MYSTERY
OF THE SINGING GHOST
By Ana Riley
© Ana Riley 2003
CHAPTER 10 – Page 75
It’s
as if no one is home. There’s one
light burning in the house and the yard light isn’t on as it usually is.
Dad’s car is near the barn and there’s a strange pick-up truck beside
it.
“Doesn’t look too lively around here.” Ethan has noticed that things aren’t quite as they should be.
“Would you like to come in for a minute?” I don’t want an absolutely marvelous day with Ethan to end.
“Sure, for a moment”.
“Dad? Alex? Anyone home?”
“We’re in the study, Gia.” Dad’s voice is solemn.
“Hi, Dad. Oh, hello, Mr. Gustafson. Nice to see you again.”
That must be Mr. Gustafson’s truck parked outside. I haven’t received the dry cleaning bill from Mrs. Gustafson for the chair my dad left mud on. Remember that night Dad cycled over to the meeting? He had a trail of mud up his back and not realizing it, Dad sat in one of Mrs. Gustafson’s expensive antique chairs. Maybe that’s why Mr. Gustafson is at our house – to give me the bill.
“Mr. Gustafson, you know Ethan MacDonald.”
“Hello, Mr. Gustafson and Mr. Cooper.”
“How
did your ghost hunting expedition go?” My
dad seems sincerely interested.
“Great! I’ve got a few photos here that I’m anxious to have developed. By the way, we found that old haunted house and Ethan held the ghost’s nightgown.”
“Gia, before I forget, you have a phone message – from Jenny. It sounded urgent.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll make the call in my room.”
“There’s some dinner in the fridge, if you want to warm it up.”
“We’re good, thanks, Dad.”
“Ethan, do you have a moment?”
“Certainly. What can I do for you, Mr. Cooper?”
I don’t know why my father wants to talk to Ethan, but I'm sensing that now is a good time for me to phone Jenny.
“I’ll
be upstairs on the phone. Hey, Ethan, don’t leave without saying, ‘Good-bye’.”
Ethan
is molding into the overstuffed study chair as if he’s one of the guys.
I think my dad likes Ethan.
I wonder what’s so urgent with Jenny? I hope it’s not serious because she and I have so much to do next week on this ghost hunt. And the beach party…
“Hi, Jen. It’s me. I’ve been thinking about you all day. What’s up?”
“Gia, it’s not good. My sister’s been in a car accident. I just came back from the hospital. It took all day to remove glass out of her head, face and legs, so they could stitch the lacerations. She’s had one hundred and twenty-seven stitches and that’s before surgery. One leg and her left shoulder were badly damaged. She’s a mess, Gia…”
Jenny’s crying. It must be very serious.
Words are caught in my throat. I want to hug her and tell her everything will be all right. I want to be with her. God, what can I say?
“I’m so sorry, Jen. When did the accident happen?”
“This morning – just before church. My sister teaches Sunday School and had to get there early. Some guy went through a red light and impacted on the driver's door. She’s lucky to be alive!”
“Oh,
en! Jen, darling, what can I do to help?”
“Pray! If my sister dies, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“How are your parents?”
“Strong, as usual, but they’re hurting. My dad even cried.”
Jen is crying and still manages to hang words together in a cohesive sentence. She’s incredible.
“Gia, I won’t be there on Tuesday. I’m sorry.”
Even though I was preparing myself for this when Jenny started telling me about the accident, hearing her say that last sentence is causing my stomach to twist. I don’t want my voice to betray me and reveal my disappointment. My disappointment is not important right now.
“Of course! I understand completely. I wish I could go there and help you. Do you want me to come out?”
“Maybe but not right away. Our lives are suspended somewhere in the universe. Everything’s turned upside down. We need to get my sister out of Intensive Care before I’ll be able to think clearly. I want you here but don’t come yet.”
I’ve never been in a situation remotely similar to what Jenny is going through. Do I ignore her when she says, ‘Don’t come’, and then go to be with her anyway, believing that my presence would make a positive difference somehow, or do I honour her request and stay close by on the phone so that she can download with me whenever she needs to? What should I do, God?
“Jenny, promise me that you’ll phone, any time, day or night, whenever you need to talk. I’ll be here. Promise me, okay?”
“I promise.”
“And promise that if you want me to come out and be with you, you’ll call and ask. Promise?”
“Promise. Gia, thanks for phoning me back. I feel better already just talking about it all…I’m scared, real scared. She can’t die.”
“She’s going to pull through, you’ll see! Besides, if she were at Death’s door, the hospital would not have sent you home.”
“I suppose you’re right. My parents told me her injuries were not life threatening, but when I saw her in that hospital bed, all cut up with blotches of dried, crusted blood everywhere, and then, when they showed us her leg – Gia, it’s double the size and badly bruised – I realized she may never dance again. If she never dances … oh, Gia, I’m so worried!”
The plea for comfort in my dearest friend’s voice is gripping my heart. Again, I am lost for words. God?
“Hang in there, Jen. I’ll cross my fingers and say prayers. Promise you’ll call me?”
“I
will. I’ve got to go. There’s
another call on the line. It could
be the hospital. Bye, Gia.
Talk to you later.”
Hanging
up the phone is the last thing I want to do.
It’s my only connection to my hurting friend.
I better tell Dad what’s happened.
Ethan is still here. I’ll make some tea and take it in for everyone. Maybe some cookies, or biscuits, or cake. Do we have any cake? Fruit and cheese… Just thinking about food at this moment makes my stomach turn summersaults. Get a grip, Gia. Strong tea. That’ll do it! I can’t even carry this tray without spilling the tea and clanging the china cups. I’ve obviously made enough noise – the men are all staring at me.
“Everything okay with Jenny?”
Dad would have to ask right off. “Her sister has been in an accident. She’s seriously injured but the doctors said she’ll pull through.”
I want to cry. The thought of all that’s happened is hitting me like lead.
Ethan is taking the tea tray from me. “Let me help. Please, sit.”
“Must be a full moon with all the ‘accidents’ that are happening recently.” Mr. Gustafson’s voice is compassionate. Strange comment, though.
“Gia, if you need to go to Calgary to be with Jenny, let me know.”
“Thanks,
Dad.”
I’m glad I made tea. When things go wrong in life, tea somehow gives one time to pause and contemplate various options, or just to pause. I need to pause. Suddenly, my silly ghost hunt means nothing.
“I best be going and leave you folks to your business. Thanks for everything.” Mr. Gustafson has a warm, round voice.
“I’ll see you out, Sven.”
It’s nice to be alone in the study with Ethan. The room is comfortable yet filled with intelligence. He’s staring at me. He’s worried. He’s coming towards me.
“Is
there anything I can do to help?” Ethan
has just kissed me on the forehead. He
is so caring! I feel like crying
but I’m not going to. I need to
stay focused.
“Thanks. I’ll be
fine.” There’s more I want to say but the words are caught in my
throat. Here they
come…”Jenny’s sister … a
really great person … with so many talents to give to the world … love,
beauty, dance … Why did something so awful happen to such a good person?
She may never dance again.”
Ethan is sitting beside me now and he’s taken my hand. The need to cry has vanished in his touch. Comfort has surged through his fingertips into my heart.
“That’s a question I’ve often asked myself.”
“I don’t understand, Ethan. It’s one aspect of life that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.” Sigh. “Is everything okay with Mr. Gustafson?”
Now it’s Ethan’s turn to sigh. “When you have a moment, you may want to chat with your dad about the meeting he had with Mr. Gustafson tonight. They filled me in on a few things – it’s related to what you and I were talking about at Chan’s.”
My brain is fuzzy after the phone call with Jenny, but my curiosity antennae is twitching at what Ethan just said.
“Like what?”
“Now’s probably not the best time to talk about it. I can drop by tomorrow, if you like.”
“I’m fine, really. What did they talk about?” I don’t mean to so quickly brush aside Jenny’s problem, but since I can’t do anything more to help her at this time, I may as well keep busy with my project, which will keep my mind off the pain she and her family are going through, not to mention my own.
Ethan’s eyebrow is going up. He’s thinking.
“One
of Gustafson’s neighbours, Paul Lutz, is being sued by another farmer who says
his crops were contaminated by the genetically altered seed that Paul had
planted. Paul was forced to sign a
contract with
one of the corporations last year. No
one knows much about genetically altered seeds, so the other farmers in the area
didn’t give the situation much thought until now.
Apparently, the county is divided as to whether or not they should
support Paul or take up the fight against genetically altered 
crops.
In the meantime, Paul got up this morning and found his cattle all gone.
Someone cut the fence. But
before Paul left the house to check on his stock, he found his dog dead on the
porch step. Poisoned!”
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