The Barking Ghost

15

"Mickey!" I screamed in horror.

I dropped the wildflowers and weeds and ran to his side.

Fergie and I knelt down beside him. "Is he okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned over him and, with both hands, tugged on his tattered shirt. But I couldn't pull him up. With each try, his limp body slumped back to the ground.

"Mickey! Mickey!" I cried his name again and again. "Are you all right? The dogs! Did they -?"

As I leaned in closer, Mickey's arms shot up and clamped around my neck. He yanked me to the ground. Then he jumped up and sat on top of me.

He was giggling like an idiot.

"Oh, Mickey! Mickey!" he shrieked in a high voice. "Mickey! Are you all right?"

I started to sputter, but no words came out.

"What a wimp!" he teased. "Do you have to fall for the fake blood every single time?" He let out another long, high-pitched giggle.

I shut my eyes and prayed that I'd disappear. I couldn't believe my brother had tricked me again. In front of Fergie.

My face grew hot. "I'll pound you for this!" I shouted, struggling to push him off me.

"Ooooh! I'm shaking!" Mickey snorted.

"Don't you have anything better to do than to try and scare me?" I yelled.

"I don't even have to try," Mickey replied, grinning.

Fergie stood over us, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Were you in on this little joke, too?" I demanded angrily.

"No! No way!" Fergie insisted.

Mickey pinned my arms to the ground. "Say 'Uncle,' wimp."

I'd never been so embarrassed in my life.

Never.

And that includes the time Mickey locked me out of the house in my underwear.

"You're dead meat!" I shouted in his face.

"What are you going to do, Drooper? Knock me out with your bouquet of violets?"

He threw his head back and laughed at his stupid joke. Lucky for me, it gave me a chance to bite his arm.

"Ow! You mutant! Look what you did! I'm bleeding!"

He jumped up and examined the bite mark on his arm. Then he growled at me, turned, and trotted away.

I wanted to chase after him. But Margaret held me back.

"Let him go," she said, clutching my shirt. "He's a creep. Really."

Grumbling to myself, I brushed off my clothes. Then I picked up the flowers for Mom. I couldn't face Fergie.

"Are you going home?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I grunted.

"Will I see you in school tomorrow?"

I shrugged. I wished she would leave me alone. I wanted to be by myself.

I grunted again. I think she got the message.

"Well, guess I'll head home now. Don't worry, Cooper," she said, starting in the direction of her house. "We'll come up with a plan to get him back. I promise."

I didn't answer.

"See you tomorrow!" she called out, waving.

I didn't bother to wave back. I watched her leave. Then I made my way over to the stream to take a drink of cold water. The sight of Mickey all bloody had made my throat dry. And it was from screaming.

I leaned over the sparkling, cool water and lowered my hand. I scooped some water up to my mouth and drank.

But when I saw my reflection in the stream, I choked.

It wasn't me.

The face staring back at me in the water was the face of a black dog!

I jerked my head up.

No dogs on the shore.

No dogs anywhere in sight.

"Whoa!" I cried aloud.

I leaned over the stream again and peered into the water.

The dog stared up at me from beneath the surface.

I raised my head again. No dog on the shore.

So how could I see a dog's reflection in the water?

Once again, I squinted into the clear stream. The dog appeared to ripple with the water.

And as I gaped at the eerie reflection in horror, it pulled back its thin lips and bared its ugly yellow teeth in a silent growl.