“True,” Grandma agrees. She’s the one who taught Shelly that. “But those ghosts will let you know. You know that, too. Those ghosts know where they are. They know what they’re about. You know the dead, Shelly. Most ghosts don’t realize what’s happened to them. They just need a hand getting to where they’re going.”

Shelly thinks most ghosts are pretty stupid.

They walk to the park and Shelly watches Grandma let the bird out of her hair. She watches the bird take off, straight up into the sky, and keeps watching until she loses sight of it in the clouds. Grandma keeps her eyes on Shelly.

19

Shelly’s still thinking about the bird at school the next day. Thinking about things other than class is a lot easier than paying attention, especially when she knows the other kids are whispering about her behind her back. It’s easier to ignore them. Then she can pretend she doesn’t care. The living change all the time. They switch sides and opinions, get older, taller, decide to dye their hair, or move to new houses. The dead are better. They stay the same.

If Shelly were a ghost, she’d want to be a poltergeist. She’d want to throw her weight around and spook everyone who didn’t think ghosts were real. She’d want to have fun with it. She can picture the confused look on Lucas’s face if a ghost threw an eraser at him.

She gets where Estelle’s coming from.

The bell goes for recess and Shelly pushes her chair back. Recess is just more daydreaming time for her now. It’s sitting on the steps and pretending to read a terrible parapsychology book while she eats her snack. She’d almost rather sit through class with no breaks at all.

Before Shelly can stand, Isabel grabs her arm. Shelly nearly jumps.

“Hey,” Isabel says. “Do you want . . . I know you like to read during recess, but my mom made cookies. Do you want one?”

Shelly gives Isabel and her hand a surprised look. “Cookies?”

“Yeah,” says Isabel. “They’re oatmeal chocolate chip. She used to put walnuts in them, but I told her some people at school are allergic to nuts and she can’t put them in my lunch if she’s going to put nuts in them and she doesn’t anymore so . . .” She shrugs. “They’re better now. They’re good. Do you want to try?”

Shelly likes nuts, but Isabel is being nice. Isabel is the only one at school who’ll talk to Shelly the way she used to. And today there’s no ghost talk, no dead mom talk, just a cookie.

It reminds her of visiting with Joseph, only Isabel’s playing Shelly’s part, bringing her an offering to try to make friends.