Farewell Summer (Green Town 3)

‘Who won? Don’t be silly!’ Douglas lapsed into silence, staring up into the sky. Then he fixed them with a stare. ‘I don’t know. Us, them.’

Charlie scratched inside his left ear. ‘Everybody. The first war in history where everybody won. I can’t figure it. So long.’ He went on up the sidewalk, crossed the front yard, opened the door of his house, waved, and was gone.

‘There goes Charlie,’ said Douglas.

‘Boy, am I sad!’ said Tom.

‘About what?’

‘I don’t know. I keep playin’ “Taps” inside my head. It’s a sad song, that’s all.’

‘Don’t start bawlin’ now!’

‘No, I’m just gonna be quiet. You know why? I guess I got it figured.’

‘Why?’

‘Ice cream cones don’t last.’

‘That’s a silly thing to say.’

‘Ice cream cones are always gettin’ done with. Seems I’m no sooner bitin’ the top than I’m eatin’ the tail. Seems I’m no sooner jumpin’ in the lake at the start of vacation than I’m creepin’ out the far side, on the way back to school. Boy, no wonder I feel bad.’

‘It’s all how you look at it,’ said Doug. ‘My gosh, think of all the things you haven’t even started yet. There’s a million ice cream cones up ahead and ten billion apple pies and hundreds of summer vacations. Billions of things waitin’ to be bit or swallowed or jumped in.’

‘Just once, though,’ said Tom, ‘I’d like one thing. An ice cream cone so big you could just keep eatin’ and there isn’t any end and you just go on bein’ happy with it forever. Wow!’

‘There’s no such ice cream cone.’

‘Just one thing like that is all I ask,’ said Tom. ‘One vacation that never has a last day. Or one matinee with Buck Jones, boy, just ridin’ along forever, bangin’, and Indians fallin’ like pop bottles. Gimme just one thing with no tail-end and I’d go crazy. Sometimes I just sit in the movie theater and cry when it says “The End” for Jack Hoxie or Ken Maynard. And there’s nothin’ so sad as the last piece of popcorn at the bottom of the box.’

‘You better watch out,’ said Doug. ‘You’ll be workin’ yourself into another fit any minute. Just remember, darn it, there’re ten thousand matinees waitin’ right on up ahead.’

‘Well, here we are, home. Did we do anything today we might get licked for?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then let’s go in.’

They did, slamming the door as they went.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The house stood on the edge of the ravine. It looked haunted, just like everyone said it was.

Tom and Charlie and Bo followed Doug up the side of the ravine and stood in front of the strange house at nine o’clock at night. In the distance, the courthouse clock bonged off the hour.

‘There it is,’ said Doug. He turned his head right and left, as if he was looking for something.

‘What are we gonna do?’ asked Tom.

‘Well,’ said Bo, ‘is it haunted, like they said?’

‘From what I’ve heard, at eight o’clock, no,’ said Doug. ‘And not at nine. But starting around ten, strange sounds start to come from the house. I think we should hang around and find out. Besides, Lisabell said that she and her friends were going to be here. Let’s wait and see.’

They stood by some bushes by the front porch steps and they waited and at last the moon came up.

There was a sound of footsteps along the path somewhere and from inside the house, the sounds of someone going up some stairs.