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Zia grinned. “That’s easy.”
She stood up and slapped a hand against her chest.
“I,” she announced, “am going to be a ghost.”
I had a bad feeling, but nevertheless, I let her lead me back to the apartment that Donald’s mother was haunting as much as he was, and she wasn’t even dead.
Zia practiced making spooky noises the whole way back to the ghost boy’s apartment, which really didn’t inspire any confidence in me, but once we were outside the building, she turned serious again.
“Is she alone in the apartment?” she asked me.
“There’s the ghost boy.”
“I know. But is there anybody in there to look after her? You made it sound like she’d need help to take care of herself.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “There was no one else there last night. I suppose somebody could come by during the day.”
“Well, let’s go see.”
We flew up to the fire escape outside her kitchen window, lost our wings and feathers, and then stepped into the between. A moment later we were standing inside the kitchen. I could only sense the old woman’s presence—at least she was the only presence I could sense that was alive.
“Oh, Ghost Boy,” Zia called in a loud whisper. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. If you come out, I have a nice little…” She gave me a poke in the shoulder. “What do ghosts like?”
“How should I know?”
She nodded, then called out again. “I have a nice little piece of ghost cake for you, if you’ll just come out now.”
Donald materialized in the kitchen by walking through a wall. He pointed a finger at Zia.
“Who’s she?” he asked.
Zia looked at me.
“You didn’t say he was so rude,” she said before turning back to Donald. “I’m right here, you know. You could ask me.”
“You look like sisters.”
“And yet, we’re not.”
He ignored her, continuing to talk to me. “Is she here to help?”
“There, he’s doing it again,” Zia said.
“This is Zia,” I said. “And Zia, this is Donald.”
“I prefer Ghost Boy,” she said.
“Well, it’s not my name.”
“She’s here to help,” I said.
“Really? So far, all she’s been is rude and making promises she can’t keep.”
Zia bristled at that. “What sort of promises can’t I keep?”
He shrugged. “For starters, I’m here, but where’s my cake?”
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, and it was hard to tell which one of them was more annoyed with the other. Then Zia’s cheek twitched, and Donald’s lips started to curve upward, and they were both laughing. Of course that set me off and soon all three of us were giggling and snickering, Zia and I with our hands over our mouths so that we wouldn’t wake Ghost Boy’s mother.
