Chapter Three

"Well, it's time, Suze. Take good care of yourselves, kids." My mom was conducting a sort of ritual (hugging us one by one, me, Doc, and even Sleepy and Dopey).

"Jake, you must drive carefully, OK? It's a two-hour route from the airport to your grandmother's house. You know the way, don't you?" Andy was giving last instructions to Sleepy.

"Yeah, dad, chill out. We've been going there every Christmas." Sleepy was saying.

"Suze," my mom was admonishing, "Old Mrs. Ackerman's very old. Don't do anything to upset the old lady. Her husband had died some years ago, and she's taken to sewing outfits for her grandkids. So don't be rude to her or anything, OK?"

Great. Just great. A dowager step-grandmother who loves sewing outfits for her grandkids, including a step-grandkid. Heck, no matter what my mom says, I will not, and I mean it, wear any puffy-sleeved dress. I mean, seriously. That's so outdated.

But it's not like I won't respect her, or anything. I mean, I get on pretty well with old folks (look at Father Dominic or Dr. Slaski, see how well I treat them? I'm not like Paul Slater), and I even respect them.

"Fine, but I'm warning you, if it's a Princess dress, I'm not wearing it."

"Suze!" my mom looked exasperated.

"Passengers going to Alabama, please go to gate twenty-three. Repeat, passengers going to…" The broadcaster announced.

I gently prised my mother's fingers off my back. "Mom, relax."

"But, Suze, I knew we didn't have any relatives before, but try to let her do what she wants with you…" My mom was nagging me now. "…and take care of your brothers, Suze. Jake, Brad, David, don't give Suze a hard time, OK? She'll be like a mother, taking care of you…"

Oh my god. Playing babysitter? I mean, Jake is almost eighteen, an adult!

"Now, honey, it's time to go." Andy was taking mom by the shoulders, gently pulling her away. My mom gave a last farewell and we were off.

"Bye, mom!" Astonishingly, there weren't only one voice saying this. That's right. Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc are calling her mom. Am I supposed to call Andy dad? I mean, my dad is not technically gone. Dead, yes. But still around here.

"Bye, dad!" Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc waved. I just could not say the word. Dad, I mean. Andy looked surprised, but quickly recovered.

"Don't you worry about your mom, Suze. I'll take care of her." Andy promised me.

"Thanks, and bye… Andy." I know it's lame, but I seriously can't call him dad.

It was a boring flight. Sleepy and Dopey was seated together on the left, and me and Doc was on the right. Sleepy was just, well, sleeping. Dopey was being dope-like was he eyed the pretty air-stewardess. And Doc was being a total biologist.

"Hey, Suze," he was saying, "do you know that Gram like gardening? You should see her garden. The flowers there are so beautiful. Plants like Amelanchier arborea, which was a type of plant with white flowers, and Anemone berlandieri, which closely resembles daisies…"

I can't believe it. Doc was talking to me about flowers. Me, and flowers. I can't believe I'm having a conversation about flowers with Doc. I mean, at first sight, he might not look very interesting, but Doc really was surprising. I mean, I didn't know he knew anything about condoms.

Still, it's useful to know about the poisonous plants. Like poison oak. God, I hope there's no poison oak in Alabama!

"Doc-David, can you move on to the poisonous species already?" I asked.

He just blinked. "OK. For example, the Ampelopsis Hoggii—"

"Which is?"

"Poison ivy."

Oh, man. I'd just escaped from California in the hopes of escaping poison oak, and I'd just stumbled into poison ivy. Just great.

"How about nice plants?" I asked.

"Oh. There's losts of elm, maple, oak, and pine trees there. Look, you can see the pine trees from the plane. They are an average of eighty to hundred feet, with the occasional twelve hundred feet tall ones…"

He told me there'd be pine trees. In fact, Sleepy also confirmed with Doc about the pine trees. Dopey had been too dopey to know what are pine trees.

I didn't believe them, but that's what they told me. Doc even told me I'd be able to see them from the plane.

I'm not a biologist, or anything, but really. Pine trees over a hundred feet tall? Come on. Nothing's that tall. I mean, not even palm trees. Not even coconut trees (not that I know how tall are they, but Gina, who said that her grandfather had once visited Asia, said that they're very tall. Over fourty feet.)

So there I was, sitting on the plane in ripped jeans and black

tube, seeing those pine trees through the window as we landed. Great. Tubes and pine trees. Alreay I'm fitting in, just like I knew I would…

…Not.

I bet old Granny Ackerman wouldn't be particularly fond of my ripped jeans and batgirl boots, but I swear I didn't wear it to make her mad, or anything. I mean, I know old people aren't big fans of fall wardrobes. They'd probably be like Father Dominic.

And I'm not resentful of the fact that my mom went skiing with her new husband, abandoning me with three (let's face it: I'm not really fond of them, except maybe Doc) stepbrothers and an old woman who's probably going to hate me from the moment I stepped into her house. I mean, She's probably not accustomed to having a granddaughter (even a step one) wearing ripped jeans and smoky eyeliner.

Oh, no. I'm not a bit resentful.

Still, I'm not very enthusiastic about this when we stepped off the plane.

Oh, and did I mention her house? It's old. really. Built in late nineteenth century, it was a villa. Well, now it's just a house. But, still, old.

I had whispered to Doc about whether there was any spectral phenomenon in Grams' house.

"Oh, yeah. But Gram's think it's our granddad."

Just great. Two grandparents.

It was seven in the evening when we arrived. It was modestly furnished. A cat greeted us as we walked down the driveway. An old sedan was parked in the garage. Sleepy parked his Camaro beside it (yes, he had finally saved enough to buy a Camaro, cherry it out, and pay for his apartment and tuition fees. Though how he'd manage to do it, I don't know) and rang the bell. A second later, there was this pattering of feet. Then the door was yanked open.

Grams Ackerman was this white-haired, bespectacled old lady. She was nearly seventy. Even so, she's quite a looker for someone that age. If only Father Dominic was here. They could hook up, as I'd heard Grams was a devout Catholic. When she visited Andy, she'd always went to the Basilica.

"Jake! Brad! Doc! And, er—" she was fumbling.

"Susannah," I said.

"And Susannah! Welcome to my house! I hope you'll be happy here! Let me show you your rooms!"

Phew. At least nothing about my ensemble. I mean, it must come as a shock to see a teenager in suburban Alabama wearing ripped jeans and black tubes.

"Jake and Brad, you will share the guest room, it's the biggest.

David, you can take the study. And Susannah, I'm sorry, but, you'll have to take the attic. This is a small house. I mean, when Andy came to visit, he just slept in the same room with David. But since you're a girl, well…"

"It's OK, really. I mean, the attic's fine. Just not too dusty, and no cockroaches, or anything." I figured there was no rats, since Grams kept about a dozen cats, but whatever.

"I'd especially cleaned it for you. Come, you can view the lake from here."

It was OK, I guess. The attic's not really cramped. Just a reading lamp on a table, with drawers; a dressing table/cupboard, and a bed. That's all. And two chairs, an armchair and a wooden chair.

Oh, and how could I forget, a balcony swing. I'm not kidding. There's a balcony from the attic. But I couldn't sit there. Oh no. Because right in front of me, was a ghost. A hot latino ghost, in fact.