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Even as she spoke, the ball she kept in the mudroom bounced out into the kitchen, where Yoda gave immediate chase.
“Like that?”
“That’s new, but yes. And I just realized how much you’re like Trey.”
“Please.” Cleo gave her hair a haughty toss. “I’m like no one.”
“You didn’t even blink. It’s the calm.” She followed Yoda when he raced to the mudroom, dropped the ball, and wagged.
Nothing happened.
“Not ready to have us watch yet,” Cleo decided, and tugged Sonya back into the kitchen. The ball bounced out again. “See?”
“I guess I should just let them play.”
“Why not? Want to watch a movie?”
“I could watch a movie.”
“And after, can I borrow the Poole book for the night? I’d like to read some of it.”
“Fine with me.”
A few minutes into the movie, Yoda came up to join them and fellasleep almost immediately. Tuckered out from playing with his ghost pal, Sonya thought.
When she let him out the last time, the ball sat on the shelf over the washer. Apparently Yoda’s invisible friend wanted to keep it handy.
As she got ready for bed, she decided she couldn’t be afraid or annoyed with a spirit that liked playing with her dog.
When the clock woke Cleo, she got up quickly. No need to wake Sonya, she thought—but grabbed her phone in case. She’d just run down for a look. Maybe this time, she’d see something.
What she saw was Sonya walking past her room.
“Woke you up, too. I was just going to— Hey, wait for me.”
She caught up, took Sonya’s arm.
For a moment, her friend stood, face blank, staring straight ahead. Then she jerked.
“What?” Sonya shuddered once. Then her head swiveled, and her breath caught. “What’s going on?”
“I think you were sleepwalking, or dreaming or something. The clock. I heard the clock, got up, and you were walking past my room.”
“I don’t remember getting up. I don’t remember hearing anything. Where the hell was I going?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t realize you weren’t… awake until I took your arm.” To soothe, Cleo rubbed her back. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I feel like—I feel like I just woke up. The way you do when you just half surface, then roll over and go back to sleep. There’s the music.”
“I hear it. I’m just going to run down and look.”
“I’ll go, too. I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just a little groggy.”
They went down together, and the dog, wakened by their voices, went with them.
Even as he raced ahead of them, the music stopped.
“Damn it, always too late.”
