During dinner one night, Hugh announced, "I'm gonna get a star for my mom's birthday."

"A star?" Charlie repeated.

"Mike says that you can pay money so a star can have the same name as someone," Hugh explained.

"Hugh, it's a scam," Charlie gently told the boy. "People pay the money, but no star is named after anyone officially.. ."

"Oh...," the boy said with disappointment. "What can I get my mom then?"

"I know of a place where you can have a calender made, based on personal pictures," Alan said.

"Sounds like the perfect gift," Amita agreed. "Just take a bunch of random pictures, and put them on a calender."

Hugh soon agreed with the idea.

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One day, he had two former classmates over at the house for lunch. They locked themselves up in Hugh's room, soon after.

"It's too quiet," Amita remarked suspiciously, looking up from her laptop.

"I'll go see what they're up to." Charlie went upstairs to Hugh's room, opened the door only to see an Ouija board spread between the three of them. The boys were all holding the triangle, that supposedly was moved by the spirit they were talking to.

"Why did you die?" one of guests asked. The room was dark, as the lights were off and Hugh had closed the blinds. Only a flashlight lit the room.

"What's going on?" Charlie interrupted after turning on the lights. The three boys looked up.

"You made the ghost leave," the brown haired guest, Mike, said with a frown.

"Ghosts do not exist. Your fingers move the triangle even when you don't want them to," Charlie said.

"The ghost's name was Buck," Hugh argued. "How can anyone's fingers spell Buck by accident?"

"One of your guests is pulling your leg," Charlie said. "It's the only explanation."

"That's not true!" Mike protested.

"It's my game," the other boy, Tom, told Charlie.

"This game is a waste of time. You're almost better off watching T.V all day."

"But it's fun, and scary," Hugh said.

"Maybe Mike did it?" Tom suggested after some thinking. "He does have a dog named Buck."

"I did not!" Mike argued. "I woulda used another name."

"No one did it," Hugh told Tom. "A ghost was talking to us."

Charlie told them firmly, "There are no spirits among us moving around pieces of plastic."

"Why don't you play with us?" Hugh asked.

"I'm a scientist, Hugh," Charlie replied.

"Maybe we could talk to Granma Margaret?" the boy suggested.

"Hugh." Charlie took a deep breath. "Your grandmother does not have a ghost, that roams around, and communicates through some piece of plastic."

"My cousin said that she talked to a dead friend with an Ouija board," Mike said.

"Tell you what." Charlie sighed, trying to keep his patience. "If you put that game away, I'll take you all to eat ice cream."

"We need a break," Mike said, liking the idea of ice cream.

"Yeah we do," Tom agreed.

"Fine. We can do some more later," Hugh acquiesced.

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At the age of ten, after lots of encouragement, effort, and pushing, Hugh enrolled at La Canada Academy, a private school that went from fifth grade up until the eighth grade. It had been Amita's third choice. Despite the school's tough curriculum, Hugh still found time to read books on the supernatural. He made a couple of friends, named Josh, and Brian. The latter told them about medicine that could help him study.

"You gotta tell the Doc and your parents that you have ADD," Brian advised as the three talked during recess one day. "The meds make it easier to study because ADD means you can't focus."

Hugh brought up the subject at the dinner table, when Alan asked him about school. "I think I have ADD."

"ADD?" Charlie repeated.

"I need medicine."

"I doubt you have it," Amita said. "Not with the grades you've been getting."

"I could get better grades with the medicine."

"We're not going to give you medicine you don't need," Amita said firmly. "Eat your salad."

"What brought this up?" Alan asked.

"I heard that kids who can't focus might have ADD," Hugh lied.

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"How's school?" Rose asked Hugh during his next visit.

"Harder. I get more homework and the tests are harder."

"Looks like you'll have to work that much more. Have you made any friends?"

"Josh and Brian."

"Glad to hear it," she teased. "Any brothers or sisters on the pipeline?"

"No. How's college?" Hugh asked. His mother was taking courses in business administration.

"Going well. I hope to finish before my parole hearing."

"It's when I'm fourteen right?"

"I'm afraid so, but the time will pass," she told him.

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One late Friday night, Charlie got up to go to the bathroom, when he heard mumbling from the bathroom.

"Who's in there?"

"Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary..."

Finally Charlie recognized Hugh's voice.

"What the...heck are you doing in there?"

Hugh continued, not hearing his father. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.."

Annoyed, Charlie came into the bathroom. "Stop it!"

Hugh jumped, started, and then saw his dad. "Dad?"

"What are yo doing?"

"I was doing an experiment."

"Experiment?"

"To see if Bloody Mary would appear in the mirror."

"She won't. Trust me. It's a myth. Go to bed."

"I've read about people seeing her."

"I'm surprised you're doing this by yourself."

"That's why I was far from the mirror."

"Go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Okay. Good night." Hugh walked off.

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"Did you really have to lecture Hugh about doing the Bloody Mary thing?" Amita asked him the next evening as they got ready for bed. "He's just a kid."

"He's obsessing about the supernatural."

"Look, he's not neglecting his schoolwork, and it's good for him to have interests."

"He actually believes in all that crap," Charlie protested. "And then gets books on it."

"You went way over his head," Amita added. "And there are worse things he could be doing at night."

"And better ones too," Charlie countered. "I want him to not be gullible and easily taken in."

"There's plenty of time for that," Amita assured him.

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About Four years later.

"How's your brother, what's his name? Sorollee?" Rose asked her son, as they waited for their food at her favorite Mexican restaurant.

"Suruli," Hugh, now fourteen, corrected her. His face was a bit longer, and his facial resemblance to Charlie was more evident. "He's weird. Amita's worried."

"Weird how?"

"He tunes out and doesn't talk."

"How old is he? Four?"

"My cousin Maggie is four, he's almost three," Hugh explained.

"Right."

Just then, the food came.

Rose exclaimed upon seeing it. "Freedom is so sweet!" Reluctantly, she had agreed, while getting her life together, to Charlie's terms of alternate weekends, some birthday, Christmas, and three weeks in summer

Soon, the two dug into their meals.

"So you got a test next week?"

"But it's on Friday," Hugh said. "So I've got time to study."

"They sure work you hard at that school. Didn't you have a test last week?"

"It was another subject."

"I see."

"Today was career day."

"Anything catch your eye? Which speakers did you see?"

"A psychologist, an anthropologist, a doctor, and my dad."

"Your dad was in it?"

"To promote careers in math. He talked about his consulting work with the FBI, the police and other government agencies."

"Which interested you?"

"The psychologist and the anthropologist. I asked, and as it turns out, I don't have to listen to people complain all day if I decide to become a psychologist. There are different kinds of psychology."

"What interested you about psychology and anthropology?"

"The way the brain and society work seems interesting to me."

"Whatever you choose, you'll have my love and support," Rose said

"Thanks! I've got some time to decide. I don't even have to choose until my second or third year of college!"

"You can do your gen eds while you decide," Rose agreed. She had gotten a degree while in jail in business.

"Great idea!"

After dinner, mother and son went to a movie. As they enjoyed it, Amita read to Suruli, who loked like a smaller, lighter, version of Amita as she did every night, though he seemed fixated on a toy car he had in his hand, and not as interested on the story. Amita continued, only because she had learned in the course of reading about child development that reading to children helped them with their verbal skills.

"Mr. Mouse then went to see his mother..." Amita trailed off when she saw that Suruli had broken the door of the toy car. "Suruli! I know that was not an accident! Why'd you do that? There are children out there who have no toys!" Suruli, peeked inside the toy car, and then tried to take off the roof of it.

"Give me that!" Amita took it as the child screamed.

"What's going on?" Charlie came into the toddler's room.

"He's mad at me because I won't let him tear this toy car apart," Amita responded, as the child continued to scream and flail about.

"I used to do that too," Charlie said. "Suruli's probably curious about the car. Give it back to him before the neighbors call social services on us again and we get another visit."

Amita reluctantly gave the toy car back. "Charlie, maybe that social worker was right?"

"About what?"

"That maybe we should have Suruli checked out?"

"She was just saying that." Charlie blew off Amita's suggestion.

"He's almost three, Charlie, and doesn't even say ma-ma or Da-Da!"

"He got that from me. I didn't really talk until was I three and a half," Charlie said.

"What if something's wrong?" Amita worried.

"Nothing is wrong."

"Maggie was practically saying sentences at his age."

"Each child is different."

"I'm taking him to the pediatrician, and asking for a referral to a specialist," Amita said. "Come or not. It's up to you."

"Up to me?" Charlie repeated.

"You're in denial, Charlie! Look at him!"

"He's done most of the other stuff on schedule. You're overreacting."

Charlie furiously walked out of the room.

TBC