The Tracks by Sally Royer-Derr (little readers TXT) 📕

“Stuff?” Sam looked at me. “Like what?”

“Just stuff,” I said. “Nothing that would concern you.”

Mom turned back to the sink. She lifted the stainless-steel lever on the faucet. The sound of the running water filling the basin echoed in the now quiet room. I stared at Sam. I knew he wanted to say more. But he was silent. Nobody said a word for a few minutes.

Finally, Mom spoke. “Emily,” she said, in a quiet voice. “I want you to be here. I’m going to continue to see Nick. And I want you to meet him.”

Longing speared her voice. A longing to have me be happy about her newfound happiness. Happy to meet this man she was seeing. But I wasn’t happy about any of it. All of this felt selfish to me. She was being selfish. She was moving on with her life. She was forgetting about Dad and all of us.

But I didn’t want to start a fight. I knew Sam was on the edge of telling her about this morning. I didn’t need the trouble. First, I had to figure out and understand what was going on with Tommy. I was in no shape to try to explain it to anyone at this point. And for that reason, and that reason only, I’d stay home and meet Nick the Great.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll stay.”

Mom turned off the water and twirled around. A soft smile spread across her rosy face. “Thank you, Em.” She walked over and gave me a hug. “I know this is hard for you.”

I let her hug me. But I didn’t say anything. I had nothing to say.

***

Nick showed up half an hour later. He brought a grocery store chocolate cake and a half gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. I sat with them at our small dining table and politely answered his questions between bites of cake and strawberry ice cream. All typical adult questions like what subjects Sam and I liked in school, if we were having a good summer, blah, blah, blah.

He wasn’t bad-looking. For an older guy. He was an average height, a little shorter than Dad. He had sandy-colored hair and glasses. Kind of like a teacher. I thought Mom said he was an accountant. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care if I ever saw this guy again. I hoped I never would see him again. I played the dutiful daughter. But my mind was on Tommy.

The fear that had crept through me earlier in the afternoon had changed. Even if he was a ghost, I wasn’t scared of him. He wasn’t here to hurt me. But I knew he was here for a reason. I’d always been intuitive. And while I didn’t believe, or hadn’t believed, in ghosts, I did know there were other things in this universe. Just because I didn’t understand it, didn’t mean it was not real.

Sam kept a watchful eye on me. Like I was going to flip out at any minute. I hoped he’d forget about everything he’d seen in a couple of days. But for now, I knew he’d be monitoring my every move. I’d have to wait until he was asleep to go down to the tracks. The prospect of seeing Tommy, especially now, in the cover of night, didn’t thrill me. While I wasn’t scared of him, I surely didn’t trust this situation.

After an agonizing hour and a half, Nick finally left. Mom was beaming. I could tell she wanted to talk about our meeting. No thanks. Not with me. Apparently not with Sam either. We both went to our respective rooms and closed the doors.

I lay down on my bed. I was exhausted by this day. Closing my eyes, I stretched out on my pink Hello Kitty comforter. At this point in my life, the cartoon character was beyond childish. I wanted to get the shoebox out of my closet and look at Tommy’s stuff again. But my eyes were heavy, even though it was only eight o’clock. I drifted away into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Seventeen

A loud noise woke me. I sat up, sleep still heavy in my eyes, my bedroom dark now. I wondered how long I’d been asleep. A trickle of moonlight beamed through my bedroom window. Crack! The sky lit up, and a slow rumble followed the flash. Thunderstorm. I glanced at the clock. Midnight.

I got out of bed and pulled on my sneakers. Silently, I crept into my closet and retrieved the pocket watch and the flashlight sitting on my nightstand. I opened my bedroom door and listened. Everything was quiet except for the rumbling outside. I tiptoed down the hall to Sam’s room and peeked inside. He was stretched on his stomach in the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly.

I made my way outside without incident. The storm was subsiding. I sat on the short concrete porch at the trailer’s front door. Rain fell, soft and warm on my face as I peered into the sky. I was lying to myself. I was scared to go into the woods, especially in this rainy, dark night. Terrified, actually. The rain caressed my skin and continued to fall. I welcomed its calming presence. No, the rain didn’t bother me. The darkness did. And meeting a ghost in the darkness scared the crap out of me. But I had to stop thinking of him as a ghost. Even if he was one. If I thought of him just as Tommy, I wasn’t scared. But the thought of walking into those woods, down to the tracks, in the black of night to meet a member of the undead made me want to throw up on my sneakers.

But I had to do it. I stood and walked into the woods. The rain had slowed,