Young Adult / Ghost Girl Part 10
They all agreed they’d go home and try to act as if nothing had happened. They’d go home and pretend they’d had a good time and couldn’t wait until their next camping trip. At the moment none of them had any appetite for any more excursions into the woods until this one could be forgotten. If they were lucky, they would not have to deal with this any further. If by some chance the police wanted to talk to them again, they hoped their parents would be understanding about having been kept in the dark.
The next morning they packed in silence, each keeping his thoughts to himself. The beer cans were carefully crushed and put in the garbage bag; the tent and poles were packed, sleeping bags rolled, fishing tackle was carefully put away. They carefully poured water on the remains of the fire and stirred the ashes.
They got in the car, their mood still solemn. Dewey pulled carefully out into the traffic and they headed back home. As they passed the turnoff to their old campground, Short Round watched as they passed and said, “I wonder what they found there. I wonder if we could…”
“Forget it,” said Mike and Dewey simultaneously. Mike looked at him and Short Round slunk back in his seat.
“I just can’t help wondering,” he said helplessly.
“It isn’t any different for us,” said Mike, “but it’s better left alone. It’s a little too morbid for me right now. The police probably still have it taped. Someday, when this all has passed, I’ll be able to go back there. Besides, I think we all know who she was.” He lapsed into silence.
“We don’t know,” objected Short Round, “It could be anyone.”
“We’re still not going back there, so forget it. I thought you didn’t want to go back to that place again—ever. I think that’s how you put it.” Dewey spoke without turning his head.
“I just want to get home,” Mike said. The possibility of seeing Mariah again hung in the air. On the one hand, finding the remains of the dead girl had been depressing; but on the other, it had brought Mariah back to him. He didn’t care how, he didn’t care why. All that mattered was that she was back. She was no longer angry. She had forgiven him. His shattered heart was now feeling whole.
Dewey dropped Mike off first. He and Short Round made polite conversation to Michael’s parents about how great the camping trip had been. As usual, Short Round stared too long at Michael’s mother and when no one was looking, Dewey slapped the back of his head. When Mike’s stuff was unloaded, they drove off, and he suddenly felt vulnerable—he didn’t want to tell his parents what really had transpired on his camping trip.
He dragged his pack and sleeping bag, along with his fishing pole, up the stairs and dropped them on the floor of his room. He went to his window and stared out into the back yard, debating. He didn’t want to lie, but this was a truth too awful to want to tell.
“I thought you had a good time,” he turned around to see his father standing in the doorway.
“I did.” Part of the time, sort of. If you counted camping in spite of stumbling upon a crime scene because one of the CSI people knew a place to go.
“Mike, I was there at your birth, I’ve helped your mother raise you. When you’ve had a good time you don’t have that morose look on your face. Something happened, didn’t it?” His father sat on his bed.
Okay, Michael thought, here goes. This will either go over or it won’t.
“We found a dead body, or the skeleton of one. Dewey used his cell and called the state police to tell them what we’d found.” Okay, Dad, what do you make of that?
“Mike.” His father was speechless for a moment, then recovered. “Why didn’t you come back home?”
“Because coming home, coming home was not possible. We wanted to be alone. It got to me, it got to all of us, but we weren’t ready to go back to our families and try to be around people. We just needed—time.” He looked intently at his father, trying to see if he understood.
His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want me to tell your mother?”
“No!” he shook his head violently, and his father removed his hand. “I don’t want Mom or Kit to know, but I’m the one who should tell Mom. I’d prefer that Mom didn’t know, because I don’t want something like that to affect her. I’ll tell her, I promise, but not now. I’m having enough trouble dealing with it.”
His father touched his shoulder again—briefly, and left the room. He could count on his dad,. He wanted to shelter his mom and his sister from things like this. His mom could handle it, but it would upset her because she’d be upset that this happened to him. It was important to shield Kit from this, even though she had turmed 14 and no longer considered herself a child.
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turmed 14 -turned
I’ve followed this story since you first posted, but I forgot bit and pieces. Let me just say..you did an awesome job with the recap…I know it’s small but it really helped a lot. Overall I still think the story good…there’s hard to sit here and point out negatives because overall I think you have a good plot and you handle your grammar stuff well.
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