Page 40 of Ghost in the Night

Myah nods. “Grandmama, tell them how you protect yourself from haints.”

“Well. There’s a few things my mama taught me about. You gotta start with a cleanse. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and those little devils can’t stand the sight of God. Clean yourself and the house. To keep them out your house, pour salt at the door or brick dust.” She points to a bowl of uncooked rice in the corner. “Keep a bowl of rice by the door. They’ll see it, get distracted, too distracted from counting to follow you inside. And lastly, that haint blue.”

She points to the ceiling inside her house, which is painted a light blue mixed with mint.

“You paint the ceilings haint blue so them haints will think it’s the sky and will pass though it. Some people paint the doors or shutters ’cause they say haints can’t pass through or over water, so they’ll run off at the sight.” Then she points to the tree. “You can even slide bottles on the bare branches of trees to keep haints away.”

So that’s what that tree is for. This stuff isn’t junk, it’s protection.

“How can you tell the difference between a ghost and a haint?” Myah asks.

“You can’t,” Grandmama says, real hard. “That’s why you should leave them all alone. Or they’ll come home with you and never let you go.”

I shudder.

Grandmama stretches over and palms Myah’s necklace.

“This is what we call a mojo bag. Some folks call it a prayer in a bag. It has different herbs in it to keep you safe. It blocks things from getting too close. I made one of these for each of my grandbabies. You never know what’s out there.”

“But I’m the only that still wears it,” Myah says, all proud.

“That’s why you my favorite.”

Myah sucks her teeth. “You told Lawrence he was your favorite last week!”

Grandmama taps her chin. “You sure it was me and not some other old lady?”

They fall into each other laughing, and I can’t help but watch with a sting of jealousy. Grandma and I used to have silly inside jokes too.

Mr. Horton comes out of the house, dusting his hands. “Mama, I told you about unplugging things.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to use my curling iron?”

“Use it in the bathroom, not in the living room.” He sighs. “Come on, y’all. Let me take you on home. Don’t want your folks looking for you.”

I stand and grip the shaking rocking chair behind me.

Grandmama smiles. “Ah! Your peoples must be from the South. I can see it on you.”

“My grandma is. What’s the rocking chair thing about?” I ask.

“They say don’t rock an empty rocking chair or there will be a death in the family.”

Robby pales and slowly stands, holding his chair steady.

Grandmama walks us all over to Mr. Horton’s truck where we say our goodbyes.

Myah jumps. “Oh! Be right back! I forgot something.”

“What you forget?” Grandmama calls for her, but Myah’s already running inside the house as Robby and Mr. Horton hop in the truck.

“Thank you so much, Grandmama,” I say.

She holds my hands steady. “You come see me whenever you’d like. I love company.”

With Myah out the way, I dare myself to ask the question.

“Have you … really seen a haint?” I whisper.