The Day Ted Williams Came To Town

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7/8/21 9:54 AM

Lisa A. McCombs

Publisher Page an imprint of Headline Books, Inc.

Terra Alta, WV

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

by Lisa A. McCombs copyright ©2021 Lisa A. McCombs All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page.

To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineBooks.com Tel: 304-789-3001 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books LisaAnnetteMcCombs@yahoo.com Church of Go @ChristianBookSeries on Facebook Ladywiththecane.com

ISBN 13: 9781951556617 Library of Congress Control Number: 2021940072

P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A

Without the following folks, my writing life wouldn’t be the same: Inspiration for Writers owner and editor extraordinaire Sandy Tritt, Cathy Teets and Headline Books, Street Team members: Susie Bumgardner, Rebecca Cunningham and Rachel Myers. You ladies rock! Shaunta Grimes and my writing friends at Ninja Writers Inc. NaNoWriMo in all its forms and James Miller and ALL my former students Thank You!

“Baseball is the only field of endeavor where a man can succeed three times out of ten and be considered a good performer.”

—Ted Williams

“With the passing of Ted Williams, America lost a baseball legend. Whether serving the country in the Armed Forces or excelling on the baseball diamond, Ted Williams demonstrated unique talent and love of country.”

—President George W. Bush

1 Home Sweet Home?

Ted let his gaze sweep across the room. Not modern by the city standards he had left behind, but the faded pinks and greens that accented the surprisingly dust-free furnishings were really quite pleasant; if pleasant was a priority.

There was something about this house that soothed him.

A smile teased his lips and he would’ve succumbed to that unfamiliar sensation had his mother’s words not interrupted his silent reverie.

“It’s lovely!” Patsy Williams swept into the room, depositing her bags on the carpeted floor and nearly dancing with joy.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Teddy? It won’t take long at all to put our identity on the place. Your great-grandmother was a meticulous housekeeper, so there isn’t much cleaning to do. “ Even with all of her cheerful optimism, a trace of doubt lingered in his mother’s voice. Sure, they had visited Gram’s a lot. But this wasn’t home. Ted’s home was two hours away where sidewalks were necessary for foot travel from store to store, not a means of visiting the person next door.

He didn’t understand why it was necessary to move, anyway.

There was nothing wrong with Pittsburgh. Sure, the streets were loud and sometimes a bit more air pollution hung around, but there was so much energy in the city!

Even with the obvious delight in his mother’s tone, Ted stubbornly resumed his sour demeanor.

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The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

“Go put your bags in your room, Teddy, and we’ll get started unpacking the kitchenware. There isn’t that much to do since your great-grandmother’s kitchen is better stocked than the one we just left.” As she spoke, Patsy absently ran a well-manicured finger over the expensive upholstery of Martha’s favorite armchair. This was an opportunity to better herself. Though their life in the city had been nice, Patsy never stopped yearning for a simpler existence. One in which she could actually be part of a community. She was drowning in the nondescript city life that Pittsburgh offered.

Ellison seemed the perfect place. And she could get her son out of that overly crowded school with all of its frightening influences. Just last semester, the school had been on lockdown twice. Drug dogs were brought in and parents notified. No, that was not the way she and Bobby wanted their child raised.

Every time Bobby mentioned his school days in this little town, Patsy heard the yearning in his voice. This was where he wanted to be. This was home. Living in Ellison would return Bobby to her and stitch together their marriage. Teddy would learn to love it, too. He just needed some time to adjust.

Teddy doubted his mother’s optimism, though. He already knew he wouldn’t fit in. Everyone he’d seen up and down this little street was just too wholesome—no skateboarders, no heavy metal t-shirts—no place for him to light.

At least there were still two more weeks left of summer before he had to adapt to a new school environment. He had time to really check out his surroundings. Not that he held much hope for what was in store for him here. Mom hadn’t even set up the internet yet. No video games, no skyping, no connection with his city friends. Most of them didn’t even know he’d moved. All because of that stupid decision to follow in Randal’s footsteps last spring. Of course, he was better off than Randal. Poor guy— nine months living in detention school, twelve months counseling.

Talk about a dude without an island. Randal was definitely landlocked for now.

Ted had to admit his own punishment could be much worse.

His goal was to be as outwardly positive as possible. The sooner his parents believed he’d been rehabilitated, the faster 6

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he could escape this silly little town and return to his homies.

His parents, at least his mother, blindly believed in him and his innocence. And he really wasn’t guilty of anything more than supporting Randal’s idea.

It had been a good one in theory—just a little breaking and entering to retrieve what was rightfully his. There was to be no bloodshed, no vandalism, no harm done. If only Ted hadn’t panicked. There was not supposed to be anyone home. Randal hadn’t said anything about the presence of a dog—a large, extremely strong Doberman. Mistake number one could have been solved with a little more research.

When Ted saw his cat-burglarizing pal crash through a living room window, followed by a massive blur of shiny ebony muscle, he panicked. As the getaway driver, his job was relatively simple.

Keep the motor running and the passenger door open. Be prepared to make a quick getaway with Randal safely strapped in the passenger seat, his property tucked safely in with him.

They should’ve known the history of best-laid plans.

The police arrived at the first indication of a situation. Mistake number two: Randal’s targeted house had the best burglar alarm in the neighborhood. That should’ve been a given since it was in a gated community. As soon as Randal set foot inside the door, a silent alarm alerted local authorities of an unauthorized visitor.

The presence of Monster Dog was an unnecessary scare tactic, although extremely effective.

Mistake number three was that Ted had limited driving experience and didn’t understand what to do when said vehicle decided to stall. That issue hadn’t been addressed in driver’s education class. Or if it had, he hadn’t paid it any attention. Since meeting Randal, Ted seemed to have more important things to think about. Being pals with Randal meant always facing adventure, which was definitely more exciting than textbooks and classroom instruction.

Ted had to stay focused now. Graduate. Pack. Meet up with Randal when school ended. Hit the trails. Get on with life.

For now, he would play the prodigal son. And if he chose a life of crime, he needed to be better prepared.

7

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

Shrugging off his reverie, Ted surveyed his new domain, doing his best not to grimace.

At least he’d been given the attic bedroom. Complete with his very own bathroom. There was even appropriate hardware for internet hook-up when he was allowed to claim that right. This could be his oasis.

There were some things he had to change immediately. There was too much pink—too much Southern charm, as his mother referred to Great-Grandma Martha’s taste in décor.

Martha Williams was from old-school Southern roots. Her parents died when Martha was very young, leaving baby Martha with an estranged clan of pseudo wealthy relatives. Her young life was surrounded by the influences of sophistication and proper showmanship. She was educated at an expensive girl’s school where a career outside the home was not a highlight. While she learned the social skills of a refined hostess and proper housewife, there was an obvious lack of enthusiasm for independent living.

Ted opened the top drawer of his new dresser to find it not totally empty. What looked like a worn journal was tucked in the dim corner of the drawer. A fragile-looking leather wallet sat atop the book. He pulled the items out for further inspection.

“Teddy?” his mother’s voice wafted up the stairs. “Come help me with these boxes, please?” Not a demand, but a request. She was so careful around him since the “incident.” Not that Patsy Williams had ever been loud or demanding as a parent, but now she was handling him with glass gloves. Do not upset the son. Do not push him further into a life of darkness.

She really was a good mom.

“Teddy?”

She just needed to stop calling him Teddy. Not a good name for a seventeen-year-old.

Replacing the wallet and the journal to the drawer, he silently noted that to be the first adventure of his new life. Who knew?

There might be a bankroll in there.

8

2 Teddy’s Walk After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Ted finally succumbed to his insomnia during the first night in his new room.

He rolled onto the floor, just like he always did at home—but he wasn’t home anymore, and rolling off his great-grandmother’s very high sleigh bed onto non-carpeted hardwood brought an unexpected thud he felt in every cell of his body. Not only did this further aggravate his lack of sleep, it brought his anxiety to a much higher level.

Rubbing his burning knees, Ted pulled himself into a seated position and rested his head against the tall box springs.

“That’s something I‘ll need to get used to,” he said out loud.

“Among other things,” a soft, ghostly female voice replied.

“What the hell?” Ted swiveled, searching wildly for the source. “Who are you?”

He frantically looked beneath the bed before bolting to his feet and finding the light switch.

No one was in the room with him. The closet door was ajar, and he jerked it open only to find a few empty wire hangers and an errant dust bunny on the floor.

A single breeze lifted the gauzy curtain hanging above the room’s only window.

Carefully, Ted reached for the baseball bat that leaned against the old dresser in the corner. He gripped the seasoned wood with both hands and crept toward the attic window. He had no qualms 9

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

about pouncing on whatever nocturnal visitor was hiding on the roof.

But there was no one there. Not even a lone squirrel. All Ted managed to attack was the fragile curtain, which floated to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, Ted leaned out the opened window to peer into the early dawn. His vantage point was high enough to get a good look at the street in front of the house as well as the neighbor’s backyard. Nothing moved. There was no one there.

As a safety precaution, Ted closed the window tight before abandoning his weapon and crossing the floor to the bedside table.

Unnerved enough to not want to be surrounded by darkness, he flicked on the small rose-glass lamp before extinguishing the overhead light and crawling back into bed, comforter firmly planted over his head.

He didn’t believe in ghosts, but Ted remembered some of the stories his English teacher told in an attempt to entertain her students on those odd days of lax instruction. She had shown her students a couple of books compiled by a West Virginia folklorist.

Dr. Musick’s interviews were famous in Appalachian history, and she had spent years gathering tales from the entire north-central portion of West Virginia. Those interviews included ghostly sightings and encounters with spirits that were documented from generation to generation. Ted had been amused by the stories, but hadn’t held much credence in the validity of the tales. Nor had he thought he’d one day travel to North Central West Virginia and witness any bizarre occurrences. If he thought about it, he would make a point of researching Grandma Martha’s house. Maybe she had contributed a story to Dr. Musick’s collection. Maybe this house was included in her tales of horror.

With a final deep breath, Ted turned on his side and allowed sleep to come.

“Teddy! Wake up, sleepyhead! Hot waffles are on the table.

Your dad’s leaving soon.” Patsy William’s attempt at levity was quickly interrupted by the sound of his father’s demand.

“Now!” The relationship between father and son had been more than strained. Bobby didn’t understand, or maybe just didn’t 10

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remember, what seventeen felt like. Or sixteen, or fifteen, or even twelve. Nothing Ted did pleased his father, even before he started seriously disappointing him. His most positive memory of a loving, friendly relationship was the last year Ted played Little League baseball. When he decided not to continue to the next level, his father lost all interest in Ted’s extracurricular activities.

If baseball were not a part of his life, then he had no life of interest.

Ted rolled out of bed, trying to be more careful of the height this time, and picked up his cast-off blue jeans from the day before. The air was stuffy in the room. Upon opening the attic window, last night’s adventure returned to his mind. He could still hear the ghostly voice and feel the presence of someone other than himself in the room.

The old baseball bat still rested against the bed and the glow of the bedside table lamp was proof of his late-night visitor.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” Ted dodged his mother’s attempt to touch his face.

“Answer your mother, Ted.” If nothing else, at least his father respected his given name—but, for some reason, Ted actually preferred his mother’s more affectionate take right now.

“Yes, Mom.” Ted grabbed the glass offered to him and poured it full of what he knew would be freshly squeezed orange juice because that’s just what his mother did. She squeezed oranges.

She rolled pie crust. Over the years, she spent hours attempting to emulate the perfect homemaker.

“Well, Teddy, I thought you might like to explore town today.

Y’know, get the lay of the land. Maybe walk over to the high school, so you can get the feel of how long your walk will be when school begins.” Patsy gently set a plate stacked with Belgian waffles in front of her son. She then reached for the coffee pot to refill Bobby’s cup.

She was all smiles and obviously beside herself with contentment. If living in this God-forsaken town made his mother smile like this, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

He was going to leave as soon as he graduated, anyway. Let her have her happiness.

11

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

Ted had never wondered about his parent’s private life before.

But as he peered through his greasy bangs, the strain between the two of them became quite clear. He had never noticed it before.

Or maybe he had just never really looked.

Patsy was always the nurturing one, doing her best to make her two men happy. She was always there for them, including them in household decisions and family events. She visited the market with a list of their requests, but Ted didn’t remember once when she came home with anything especially for her. She waited up late when Ted was out of the house at night. She offered homework assistance and taxi service when he was younger.

Patsy Williams’ focus was totally, one-hundred percent on her family.

When he realized that total silence surrounded the kitchen table and its occupants, Ted avoided his father’s gaze and addressed his mother. “That sounds great, Mom. I think I’ll do that.”

“Help your mother first. Lift any heavy boxes for her. Help her put things away. And organize your room. I’m going to be gone for a few days, and I do not want to come home to anything less than cozy.” Bobby shook his newspaper to a neat, flat surface before folding it precisely to place on the kitchen table.

Cozy? Did his father just say “cozy”? Ted would have laughed out loud if he’d felt comfortable around his father. Instead, he swallowed the last of his waffle with his gaze firmly set on his plate, missing the shared grin of his parents.

“We will have things ship-shape by the time you get back, Bobby, but for today Teddy needs to acclimate himself to your little town. There really isn’t much to do since we decided to use most of the furniture already here.” Patsy busied herself by wiping the spotless countertop and stacking the breakfast dishes in the sink.

“My biggest chore today is going to the grocery. After that, I think I’ll do exactly what Teddy is going to do. Take a long, long walk. Maybe talk to a few neighbors, find out what secrets Ellison holds for us. Find out the neighborhood gossip.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult if this town is anything like it was when I was growing up here.”

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After rinsing his plate, Ted excused himself from the table to prepare for a day on foot. Even though he hadn’t seen any skateboarders out and about when they arrived, he refused to travel without his board. And for that, he also needed to pay attention to his attire. Although he doubted that Ellison was anything but a tried-and-true, red-blooded Levi crowd, he wasn’t ready to abandon his standard slouch jeans.

A chorus of lawnmowers indicated that several residents were taking advantage of the early morning sunshine. Although the neighborhood could not be considered ritzy on a Pittsburgh scale, his new neighbors took obvious pride in the modest but well-loved plots of land up and down the street. A former mining town, Ellison was designed with identically sized property lines that allowed a neat, well-calculated appearance of order. The houses were nearly identical in size and marksmanship, allowing little status discrepancy, but individual owners were careful to personalize their space.

Ted glanced back at his new home and smiled at the old world Southern grace with which his grandparents had identified their own home. The drooping mimosa tree in the front yard set the house aside from the rest, and the addition of the attic Juliette balcony were subtle indications that the Williams held a little more clout than some of their neighbors. This came as no surprise to Ted, seeing as how his dad’s grandfather was not the typical West Virginia coal miner. Some probably viewed him as a little uppity with his polished appearance and college education, but John Theodore Williams had made a name for himself, both in business and in life.

Ted looked to the right at his future high school that set like a sentinel on the hill across the river. That looked like a good morning destination. Maybe he could find some action there, run into future classmates, and have a nice story to report back to Mom. As he set out for his goal, it was difficult not to feel a little excited and, being alone, Ted felt a small smile tease his lips.

If nothing else, his visit to this dinky town would provide entertaining fodder to share with Randal.

13

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

Supposedly there was a shopping mall a mile past the school.

After a quick perusal of the quiet high school campus, Ted sat his skateboard on the pave Rail Trail and headed off toward the shopping mall.

Arriving at the mall thirty minutes later, Ted stood in the middle of the parking lot, not overwhelmed, but impressed there was such a place so close. As he caught his breath from the unaccustomed exercise, Ted tucked his skateboard under an arm and approached the mall entrance with an unexpected tinge of excitement.

And then he saw it: a Game Station, his favorite gaming store ever. Well, that was one big plus. At least he’d have someplace to escape to, especially if there was a D and D club here. Randal would be so jealous—at least the Randal of elementary-school days would’ve been. Randal of current days probably wouldn’t give an owl’s hoot to this nod at their gaming days of old. But Ted missed those days when they believed themselves to be sophisticated and worldly playing a college-oriented game. Ted realized now how innocent and harmless that had been.

He made a mental note to not leave the mall without stopping in the gaming store. For now, his stomach told him to look for a food court. His journey was playing catch up, and waffles suddenly seemed hours ago.

Even though he was fascinated with the existence of the shopping mall, business appeared to be rather slow at this hour of the day, so Ted hopped on his skateboard and commenced a slow tour of the rest of the facility.

Most of the shops were clothing venues. He found an L.L.Bean, Gap, Old Navy, JC Penney, and several boutiques, all surprising him further for such a small town. A record store, book store, and movie cinema completed his journey until he came across his goal. A clean, small food court was nestled in the far corner of the mall. Everything smelled delicious. Ted quickly decided on the pizza booth, where he chose a thick slice of Sicilian topped with extra cheese and mushrooms. A large fountain drink completed his meal.

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He at first didn’t recognize the shrill sound of the police whistle or the heavy footsteps pounding his way, but when Ted realized that he was the focus of the commotion, he wheeled around to learn of a pursuit en route toward him.

“Hey, kid! You can’t ride that thing in here!”

The mall cop’s baritone wasn’t threatening, but Ted recognized authority when he heard it. Frantically, he searched for an escape route, tossing his uneaten lunch toward an open trash can.

He jumped on the offensive skateboard and sped back the way he’d come. But the mall exit was too far. He would never make it. Ted’s heart banged in his ears and filled him with dread.

Just as the cop slowed to check what appeared to be a small radio attached to his belt, Ted was blessed with an open door around the next corner. He ducked in and hurriedly hid behind the first high rise of shelves.

He forced his breathing to slow and slid his skateboard beneath a display rounder in front of him. He saw no one else in the store and leaned his head on the closest shelf.

“Just breathe, man. Calm down,” he told himself and made himself as inconspicuous as possible, which wasn’t a small feat dressed the way he was. Though he hadn’t seen many people his age at the mall, a few were dressed like the uppity preps he so despised.

A slow glimpse around the shelf hiding him confirmed that Mall Cop was no longer on his trail—or, at least, was unaware of his location.

Ted sighed and took a closer look at his surroundings. A book store. Perfect. The assortment of tall bookshelves provided a great place to hang for a while until the heat cooled off. Leaving his skateboard safely hidden under a nonfiction display for now, Ted quietly moved from aisle to aisle.

Fiction. Self-help. Children’s literature. Current bestsellers.

Music. Religion. Just your typical bookstore. Except for that alluring smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from somewhere at the back of the store. Could it be his morning escapade had landed him in a Starbuck’s? Ellison was growing more and more interesting by the moment.

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The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

“I see you’ve met Sam. Don’t worry. He’s really harmless. All waddle and whistle. Just hang tight for a few minutes and the coast will be clear.”

Ted nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of another male voice. He hadn’t seen anyone in the store, not even a sales clerk.

Oh, great, Ted thought, first I hear voices in my bedroom and now they have followed me to the mall.

“Hi. My name’s Raymond, temporary manager of the Book Barn,” the voice continued. “Welcome. You look like you could use a drink.”

“Really?” Ted said sarcastically.

“I’ll make you an iced special. On the house. It’s the least I can do for your first run-in with Sam, Sam the Whistle Man.” “Sure. Thanks.” Ted took another glance out the store’s floorlength windows before following the voice toward the amazing aromas coming from the back of the store.

Raymond’s biker-length shorts were frayed in all the right places and his three-quarter length sleeved t-shirt gave the impression of a seasoned soccer player. Hair spiked naturally and a woven bracelet at his wrist helped Ted feel more at home than he had since landing in Ellison. Finally, a normal guy.

While Raymond worked on the drink, Ted took a closer look around him. The coffee shop area was actually a replica of something he’d seen once on one of his mother’s favorite sitcoms, complete with an overstuffed couch and a couple of comfylooking armchairs. In one corner stood a rather neglectedlooking Ficus tree. Beside the plant were two guitar stands, one holding what appeared to be an expensive six-string and the other holding a four-string instrument he couldn’t identify. For the first time, he heard soft music playing from hidden speakers.

The tune was haunting but not familiar.

“Temporary, my patootie. He’s been saying that for years.

Don’t listen to him. Ray-Ray is a permanent fixture here.”

The second voice came from an extremely odd-looking, extremely welcome sight. With legs curled up under her and a huge book across her lap sat one of the most beguiling girls Ted 16

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had ever set eyes on. Hair the color of varnished soot, and eyes lined strongly with charcoal, this vision was very much at ease in her posture. Her blue jeans held a variety of torn areas. The pale pink, off-the-shoulder tee-shirt fit like a second skin and her lips were brushed with a hint of pink frost. Ted’s heart fluttered at an uncomfortable rate, making him aware of a certain movement in the front of his pants he had only experienced when looking at Randal’s skin mags.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s the boss’s daughter. We tolerate Fiona as long as she remembers to return to college every now and then.”

Ted was alarmed by the raw truth in Raymond’s voice, but relieved to hear comfortable warmth measured in the tone.

When he glanced at the girl’s reaction, he was stunned to see her stick out her tongue in Raymond’s direction before raising her arms high above her head in an elegant stretch.

“Don’t mind ol’ sour puss here. He’s been grouchy since the first of June. His mood will improve when the love of his life returns from summer camp. Then we won’t be able to stand him.

I’m glad I need to get back to campus today.”

This news brought a mixture of emotions to Raymond’s face.

“Well, Ray-Ray, looks like you have everything under control here. Guess I’d better get back to the university.” Fiona unwound her lithe body and stood to an impressive height for a girl so frail looking. “See you next time!”

The beautiful Fiona left in a waft of air kisses and twinkly laughter.

“She certainly is something, isn’t she?” Raymond’s gaze followed the girl out the door, making Ted wonder if he’d missed something. They were so comfortable together, and he’d have to be an idiot not to recognize the admiration in Raymond’s voice.

“Your girl?” He had to know for sure, even if his question broke all the rules of “mind your own business.”

“Fi? My girl? No way. She’s just the annoying sister-friend I never asked for but am glad to have. She’s a sophomore at WVU this year. Have a seat, my man. Sam should be gone before long.”

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The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

Raymond positioned himself across from Ted. Ted welcomed the chance to sit and folded his hands around the cup above his lap just in case his arousal was evident. How embarrassing. Randal, of course, would’ve had a good time with his discomfort, laughed it off, and probably even brought attention to the situation in an attempt to reign superior at Ted’s expense. Even though he felt disloyal to the only real friend he’d ever had, Ted had been questioning Randal’s sincerity a lot since “the Incident.”

“So, what brings you to town? Just passing through or planning on joining the community?” Raymond rested his bare feet on the coffee table that separated their seats and reclined as if awaiting a long story about Ted’s life. He wasn’t pushy and in no way intimidating. He didn’t seem to judge Ted for the reason he was in the Book Barn, nor did he comment on Ted’s discomfort in Fiona’s company. He seemed sincerely interested. And before he knew what was happening, Ted spilled his whole story. The robbery. Randal’s punishment. His father’s disinterest in his life. His mom’s overzealous attitude toward his reform and his frustration with no public skateboard facilities.

“Well, that’s an easy fix,” Raymond spoke for the first time since Ted had begun his dialogue. “But I think you’re going to discover that extreme BMX is more the rage in Ellison than skateboarding. Not that there’s anything wrong with skateboards.

We used to ride when I was in school, but BMX took over a couple of years ago and it has grown immensely. Do you have a bike?”

Two hours later, Ted finished his second Raymond Special, collected his skateboard, and left the Book Barn, much more excited about Ellison than when he’d arrived.

A quick peek up and down the single-wide aisle of the mall told him that Sam was probably on his lunch break, but, for extra precaution, Ted held his beloved board under his arm until exiting the shopping mall.

18

3 A Visit From Jesus When Ted got home from his first Ellison adventure, he was not surprised to find his mother entertaining. He was surprised, however, at the physical appearance of her guest—and even more so when the guest greeted him by name—and even downright shocked when his mother introduced the guest as Pastor Hawkins.

“Hello, Teddy. Mind if I call you Ted? You look more like a Ted to me than a Teddy. No offense, ma’am.” This strange fellow extended his hand to Ted while apologizing over his shoulder to his mother.

“We have always called him Teddy, but I suppose it’s up to him,” his mother demurred with a questioning glance at her son.

“Ted is fine.” Ted cautiously shook the pastor’s hand.

He couldn’t decide how he felt about this tall, rangy man in front of him. He appeared clean enough, but not what he imagined the average church pastor to look like. Pastor Larry Hawkins had a long, black ponytail that trailed down his back and was bound with a piece of black leather. He wore Levi’s and a lint-free black T-shirt on which the word GO screamed out in stark white letters. He smelled of a clean, fresh shower with a trace of patchouli that Ted associated with the headshop he had once visited with Randal. There was nothing religious-looking about this guy, save that his imitation of a twentieth-century Jesus was spot on.

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The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

The Williamses had sometimes attended church in the city, but Ted was hard-pressed to recall any biblical lessons he might have learned. His father attended to be seen by business associates; his mother because it was expected for her to stand by her husband’s side; Ted because his parents insisted. But the minister at their city church was as far removed from this guy as any pastor could be.

“So, your mother tells me you’ll be a senior in a couple of weeks. I imagine you’re feeling rather overwhelmed beginning your last year of school in a strange place.”

There was no long, uncomfortable, anticipatory pause, so Ted didn’t feel obliged to respond.

“I also understand that you’ve spent the day wandering around Ellison. Do you have any questions about our town or what there is to do here?”

Now a response was required. Surprisingly, he had no qualms about disclosing his day’s adventure to a complete stranger. At least said stranger had asked about his day and even inquired as to his name preference. That was definitely new.

“I noticed no one rides a skateboard. But I met a guy at the mall—” “You went all the way to the mall? On your skateboard?” His mother’s voice rose an octave at this announcement. “Teddy, that’s not safe.”

“It was only a mile, Mom, but I promise not to do it again if it’s going to worry you.”

The look on Patsy Williams’ face was as astonished as Ted felt when the words came from his mouth. This was NOT standard Ted behavior.

Ted continued talking, telling his mother and the pastor about his afternoon at the Book Barn. He avoided any mention of Sam the Mall Cop. One: to protect his mother’s fragile perspective of him. Two: not to alarm the minister.

When he described his conversation with Raymond and the beautiful Fiona, Pastor Hawkins nodded, but he didn’t interrupt Ted’s steady flow of dialogue. If he surprised himself, his mother was totally dumbfounded. Her Teddy hadn’t said this much in months.

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“Well, if you met Raymond, then you know about his passion for BMX. He has a group of guys who meet regularly on the grounds of Sacred Sanctuary. They try to keep things clean, but I have to admit it can sometimes be a rather muddy mess. Stop by and check things out sometime, Ted. We’re just down the street.” Pastor Hawkins dug in his back pocket for a small card that contained both the address and church phone number. He handed it to Ted. The pastor smiled, showing perfectly straight white teeth and a twin set of dimples. Ted’s mom nearly melted right there on the spot. Ted was not unaware of the intoxication the pastor held over his mother and briefly regarded the man with an unusual sense of protection. Not that he felt any reason to be alarmed, but his mother was his mother and not some single bimbo on the loose. For an instant, he wished his dad was present to keep her focused.

The spell was appropriately broken, though, when the pastor presented his requisite spiel.

“And if you are looking for a place to worship,” he addressed them both with no obvious interest in Patsy over Ted, relieving the slight tension Ted had felt, “Sacred Sanctuary might be the place for you. Ellison is fortunate to offer four churches that cater to individual needs. We work well with one another and show support no matter what a person’s religious inclinations might be. Of course, I am a bit biased, but I truly think our congregation offers the best foundation of spiritual growth in the town. All are welcome. We practice a ‘come as you are’ philosophy. I really hope to see you again.”

With that, Pastor Hawkins rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans as if to wipe away an invisible film of perspiration before offering his hand first to Patsy and then to Ted. “It’s so nice to meet you both. I look forward to meeting Miss Martha’s grandson sometime soon.”

“Thank you so much for stopping by, Pastor. I really appreciate the neighborly visit and—maybe—we will see you Sunday.”

Pastor Larry tipped an imaginary hat to her and let himself out.

21

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

Seconds later, a loud rumble emanated from the street. Both of them hurried to the living room window to observe Jesus revving up a massive Harley Davisson street bike. The bike was majestic and very, very black. As if he knew they were watching, the Jesus look-alike smiled and waved cheerfully from his seat.

With a glance at his mother, Ted couldn’t help but let out a small uncomfortable laugh, although he instantly felt guilty.

His mother’s laugh turned into a ridiculously girl-like giggle.

“Did that just happen?” Patsy choked out the words that had just entered her son’s mind.

“Yep, Mom. I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore.” Ted’s response brought more laughter, and for the first time in a long, long time, he felt peace within himself.

“No, Teddy—uh, Ted—I don’t believe we are.” Patsy patted him on the shoulder and steered him toward the kitchen. “Now, let’s go start dinner, and you can tell me more about your day.

Ellison actually has a shopping mall? With a coffee shop and a bookstore? We need to go there for clothes and school supplies tomorrow if you want. Since you already know the route, you can be my chauffeur.”

22

4 The Wallet That night after Ted climbed to his room, the laughter shared with his mother still rang in his ears. They had laughed and laughed. About the mess they made in the kitchen trying to prepare and eat tacos. They had laughed at the silly television commercials before and after the evening news. They had laughed about the way his father had wrapped the silverware and assortment of plates Patsy packed. And they had laughed at the eccentric odds and ends that had been left in the dining room. Although Patsy didn’t have many stories to tell about her husband’s relatives, she did entertain him with a family tale or two passed down through the years.

Great-Grandma Martha had loved to play pinochle, a card game Patsy knew very little about, but which Ted put on his list of things to Google once the internet was installed next week.

Even with his plan to escape Ellison and the indifference of his father, the game sounded like an interesting way to pass the winter months—if he could convince his mother to learn with him.

At one time, Martha Williams had hosted a weekly card game in her dining room, even on nights when her husband had been called to work. Participants in the weekly games included many notables, including the mayor, the town doctor, the high school principal, and the owner of the Boston Red Sox when he was in town. Fiercely competitive, many games ended in harsh words 23

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

and threats to never return. But a few days later, everyone was seated around the large table, ready to battle one another for the weekly title.

When her husband died, Martha Williams continued the weekly games, which quickly became weekly events. Because the house was so large and money was sparse, Martha soon converted her home into a well-maintained boarding house for traveling workers. All five feet of her ruled her house with a firm hand. It was no secret that Martha kept a well-oiled Smith and Weston pistol beneath her apron and that she had no qualms in using it. There was even the trace of a bullet hole above one of the bedroom doors upstairs.

If only the walls could talk, Ted was certain there was a cinematic goldmine right at his fingertips.

“Well, I think I’m ready to hit the hay, honey. Maybe we’ll go shopping tomorrow?” Patsy failed in hiding the yawn that monopolized her entire face, causing Ted to answer the contagious action.

He really was tired. The adventure to the mall and the visit with Pastor Hawkins had pretty much worn him out. And then all that laughter shared with his mother brought on conflicting feelings he was almost ashamed of; Ashamed of being a turncoat and actually enjoying time with his mom. That was a silent rule he and Randal had agreed upon. Parents were the enemy and not to be trusted. Above all: Do not have fun with parents.

But Ted knew he hadn’t always felt that way. It was confusing to him how that had all changed. When had he stopped enjoying his parents’ company? His mother was actually a cool person.

And he really wanted to trust her. She had been there for him when all the bad stuff was going on with Randal. And she seemed to be there for him now. If it was just he and his mother, life would be good. It was when his dad was around that things got funky.

“I wish Dad would never come home,” he said to his empty attic room. Rage overcame him. Without even thinking, Ted began chanting, “Don’t come home. Don’t come home. Don’t come home.” He pounded his hands on the bed mattress to emphasize his point.

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His head kept time with his hands on the bed. He pounded and pounded until the silence offered by the muffling of the heavy mattress actually roared in his ears and his head spun from the repetitive banging of his head.

With tears trickling down his cheeks, Ted recalled each time his father had turned his back or his ear. The time his father was too busy to attend his one and only piano recital. When work took him away during his second birthday party.

The many Christmas and birthday presents his mother never received because his father either forgot or didn’t feel it necessary for Ted to have his own gift to present to her. And the time his father blamed his mother for Ted’s one and only bicycle wreck that landed him in the emergency room to receive seven stitches.

When his mother had tried to explain she had only turned her back for a second, his father had flown into a fit of reasons why Ted didn’t deserve a bike and she had no business allowing her son to be responsible enough to take the bike out on his own.

And then his father had taken the bike and Ted had never seen it again.

And now they were here. In Godforsaken Ellison, West Virginia, and his father was on the road again, a lifetime away.

Bobby Williams hadn’t even thought to include Ted in his plans to pick up and move his family right before Ted’s senior year of high school. Not once had he asked Ted’s opinion. Not once.

When exhaustion replaced the monstrous rage, Ted dropped onto the ancient area rug and hugged the old wooden baseball bat.

What he had done with Randal was wrong. He wasn’t proud of his actions, and, if he was honest, he was glad to be away from Randal’s influences. But he wished he’d had a say. He wished he could express his real thoughts to his father about the situation.

But Dad would never listen. To him. To his mother. To anyone.

In his eyes, he was always right and that was all there was to it.

In one last act of defiance, Ted lifted the bat and smacked the floor with it. The solid crack of wood against thin carpet startled him, and the sound of his mother’s call of concern brought Ted back to the here and now.

25

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

“Just dropped something, Mom. Everything is okay. Going to bed soon.”

He hoped his voice didn’t betray that he’d been crying. As much as he’d enjoyed his mother’s company earlier, he didn’t relish the idea of her joining him right now.

“Tomorrow’s another day,” he mumbled to himself before standing.

“Be patient with him, Teddy.”

That whisper. Was it in his head? Or was someone really sharing the attic with him?

As if in reply, the top drawer of the old dresser in the corner jarred open—not in a forced way, but rather in a belated fashion, as if it had been on the verge of opening for a long time. Ted cautiously approached the piece of furniture, belatedly realizing he’d left the bat behind.

There was no reason for protection, though. Once again, there was no one in the room with him. Just that eerie voice.

And it was gone now.

Ted looked into the opened drawer and extracted the old wallet. He carried it back to his bed and perched it atop the quilt for a closer inspection. The leather was worn to the point that even any patina of age was gone. Engraved in the material was a host of wild ponies, making it resemble more a child’s wallet than that of a man. But the size indicated that this was indeed the property of a grown individual. The stitching was intricate but loose around the edges, indicating it required a bit of care before it could be trusted to hold any sum of money.

Carefully turning the wallet in his hands, Ted inspected every part of the exterior surface before gently opening the two-fold to its full length. There were no pictures beneath the plastic inserts, nor were there any cards or identification visible. As he peeled apart the sides of the paper money section, Ted almost missed the contents there.

Inside the wallet was a tightly creased piece of yellowed paper, folded incredibly flat. Trying not to tremble and tear the delicate paper, Ted hesitated before carefully, oh, so carefully, unfolding each and every portion of the divided paper. It wasn’t exactly brittle, but close.

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Fortunately, the writing was in ink, but even with the dark blue tint, the words had become faint and in some places nearly invisible.

With the help of the tiny flashlight on the end of his Swiss Army Knife, Ted was able to discern most of the message.

My grandfather has always had a penchant for telling stories… long, far-fetched tales involving crazily-named people and fantastical events. He could make a simple task sound extravagant and fun. The “one that got away” was always bigger than the last one. A trek to a local football game became the game that ends all games, and not just because the home team won miraculously in the last seconds of the game, but due to the fact that the secondstring quarterback punted the final game-winning points with a broken foot, he’d suffered the day before after falling out of a tree to save his grandmother’s kitten from being buzzard food when she climbed (the kitten, not the grandmother) too close to said vulture’s nest and couldn’t get down.

His stories were huge, but they still held certain believability in their very enchantment.

He spent his free-from-school hours on a pilgrimage around the neighborhood looking for a pick-up ball game, an Olympian sledriding event, or a quest to swim the length of the flooding waters of Booths Creek after an unseasonal spring rainfall.

My grandfather owned and operated the only dry cleaning business in the county and was known as a businessman of wide interests. During the summer months when school was not in session, he would high-tail himself to the Universal Dry Cleaners to listen to the often inappropriate, but always entertaining tales relayed about the current “doings” at the courthouse or the ranting of the high school principal on the morals of the day’s youth. It was at the Universal Dry Cleaners that he learned of the underhanded escapades of the local law enforcement and the heroism of the county’s soldiers fighting overseas during WWII. As I busied myself counting wire clothes hangers and sweeping up dust bunnies, I silently hung on every snippet of news and gossip that filtered through the steamy rooms of the establishment.

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The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

I learned how to play pinochle and listened as the Methodist minister’s wife sobbed onto the shoulder of the minister’s illicit mistress about her fear that the dear reverend may have fallen prey to the temptations of Buster Coaltrain’s moonshine still that everyone knew about but ignored, even though the exact location of said still was public knowledge.

For a small town, the stories he heard painted a picture of a larger existence. So, my granddad never had to dream of a future adventure. He lived it every day, vicariously through the words of Ellison’s elite citizens.

So, it was at the Universal Dry Cleaners that I learned about the legendary Boston Red Sox pitcher Ted Williams coming to town. This was major news. A sports hero was set to visit Ellison in order to grouse hunt with the team’s owner’s cousin (whose family was a life-long resident), my grandfather, the local dentist, the town’s undertaker, and an assortment of other prominent citizens.

I could hardly believe it. And there was no way I planned to miss it…even without an official invitation…even though I was only eight years old and not strong enough to hold a hunting gun.

Ted Williams was coming to town!

Ted put down the ancient paper and closed his eyes. Who was the author of this? Ted Williams was coming to town? The irony was not lost on him.

Too weird.

The Universal Dry Cleaners had been in the Williams family for generations, but dissolved when Bobby’s grandfather passed. Although his earlier tour through town hadn’t included every street, he hadn’t seen any indication of an empty business building. Had he missed it in his goal to reach the mall? There were several side streets in town, but he’d assumed they were all residential.

He had an urge to take his flashlight and set out on an evening adventure. Not a good idea with him being a stranger in town and without much knowledge of the lay of the land.

Plus, he wanted to mull this over a bit. The handwriting was small and very neat, which made him tend toward the sex of the 28

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writer being female. Stereotypical, he knew, but the fact that girls had better handwriting than guys was no secret.

Ted remembered taking pains with his own cursive way back in the third grade. The letter “f ” gave him fits and trying to make his “g” and his “q” fit on the page had been tough, but he had scored fairly high on the final test and had been proud of his work. It didn’t take long, though, for his penmanship to go by the wayside. His parents blamed technology and the inevitable extinction of manual writing. Even if he was relieved not to have to depend on his own hand in order to create full thoughts, he had to smile as he thought about his poor teachers who were forced to spend hours deciphering their students’ work. Even if they didn’t admit it, they were probably glad to have computerprinted essays over the hieroglyphics submitted to them.

Resolved to quiz his mother in the morning, Ted gently placed the paper flat in the dresser drawer and set the wallet on top. He swept his eyes around the room looking for intruders.

Satisfied he was alone, Ted grabbed the old baseball bat and crawled into bed.

With the bedside light lit.

29

5 The School Ellison High School: An aging structure of mortar and brick that sprawled over two acres on the other side of the river from where Ted’s family had relocated. The banners strapped on the outside of the building announced the many awards EHS owned.

State football champions for decades. A Blue Ribbon School.

West Virginia School of Excellence.

All of this for a school Ted had never heard of before moving here. That really didn’t mean much, though, since he was not one to read the news or watch reality TV. Ellison was a foreign land after living the fast pace of a large city. Pittsburgh was what Ted knew and had grown up with—traffic, noise, taxi cabs—that was his life.

Here it appeared that everyone walked to school, teachers included. The parking lot was nearly bare, and for a moment, Ted wondered if his mother had the date wrong. If that were the case, there was something else of equal importance occurring, though. Students huddled in groups around the parking lot and front entrance of the school. Ted heard shouts of welcome and hysterical laughter from a swarm of what he assumed were freshmen girls. No upperclassman would allow themselves to be viewed as so silly.

Ted had dressed in his normal mode for this first day of school at Ellison High, but at his mother’s request, he had acquiesced and left his typical low rider jeans at home. He hadn’t bought into 30

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the Levi attitude, but his new skater shorts were close enough to his own self for now. From the looks of things, he was right on target. He didn’t totally fit in, but there was a large assortment of dress styles. He was shocked to notice a couple of Goths moving as one toward the front door. That was interesting, but likely not unheard of. He bet they received a lot of ridicule.

His mother had already visited the school just a week before in order to register Ted and claim his class schedule. He was aware of her anxiety for him this morning, though. He was surprised she hadn’t chosen this time for her morning run just so she could keep an eye on her Teddy.

Feeling rather foolish, Ted took a sweeping glance around the campus, looking for a middle-aged woman in running gear before allowing himself to be swept up in the influx of students.

He found it particularly odd that no one actually entered the doors. Were they locked? Was everyone waiting for some universal sign that magically threw open the doors and welcomed grades nine through twelve?

As if on cue, the doors did, at that very moment, swing fully open, and an attractive woman of obvious authority threw open her arms to the audience. Everyone but the giggling freshmen fell silent as if this were a well-rehearsed movie scene.

The woman waited for the show of respect from the veteran students to bleed over to the newcomers before she verbally welcomed them all to a new school year.

Ted was amazed at the proper attitude exhibited by students his age. Not to say that his previous years of school had been anything but proper, there was something other-worldly about the population on the front lawn at EHS. Visions of the Stepford Wives flooded his media-saturated brain, and he fought a sudden shiver of dread. He felt, not for the first time, that he had landed in another galaxy. People just were NOT this perfect. He made a silent pledge to discover the flaw at Ellison High School. There had to be at least one.

Because he had his schedule and had toured the school previously, Ted wasn’t worried about getting through the day.

He was worried, however, about how he would interact with the 31

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other seniors. He was certain he was the only new guy on the block, literally and figuratively. He was the outcast regardless of his dress. Everyone would recognize him as the alien in their narrow-minded little space on earth.

Fortunately, his first-period class also included the Goth chicks he’d seen earlier. He figured if he stuck as close to them as possible, his irregularities would take second place in the realms of oddness.

At least, that was his hope.

The best-laid plans, he again discovered, didn’t necessarily apply in the here and now. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum may have appeared “out there,” but they were obviously two popular gals—as well as noteworthy intellectuals.

When he attempted to sidle in beside them in the seating arrangement, he was beat out by three jocks and a band geek.

The six students grouped together as if they were an established club. They were sharing notes before class even began. He overheard talk of their PSAT results from last spring and plans to get together to complete college applications when the time arrived.

“Oh, great,” he muttered to himself. “These losers even have study groups.”

“Yeah, right?” a soft voice sounded in his ear, and Ted tensed with the anxiety of his bedroom ghost following him to school.

But the owner of the voice was not at all ghostly. He turned to spy on the pert little strawberry-blonde who had settled behind him in the very last row. It seemed that the common practice at EHS was to snatch the front seats, leaving all the seats in the back vacant. Totally different from what Ted was accustomed to.

Where he came from, no one wanted to be on the front row.

Who are these people? His alien theory was becoming stronger by the second.

“At least I got the best seat in the house,” Strawberry-blonde commented as if reading his mind.

“Are you not from here either?” Ted hazarded a question as the first-hour instructor reached her designated spot behind an enormous, elaborately painted podium. Equally colorful in 32

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dress, the elegant creature raised her arms to the heavens, which gradually quieted the class. As silent attention prevailed, the teacher slowly lowered her arms and drew her hands to the front of her chest, palms touching and head bowed.

She slowly lifted her flawless complexion to the class and opened her eyes.

“Namaste.” She smiled with perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth and took her seat on an elaborate stool as if it were a throne she clearly deserved.

“Good morning, class. Welcome back. I hope you’ll enjoy Honors History as much as I. My name is Mademoiselle Bouffant, for those of you who are unaware, and this is the most important class you will take first period.”

A smattering of giggles scattered throughout the room, making Ted take closer notice of his classmates. They didn’t look like aliens. They actually appeared normal. But how were aliens supposed to look? There were so many theories out there but virtually no proof to verify neither the existence nor appearance of life from outer space.

“So, let us begin.”

And this teacher! Runway attire, professional make-up and hair, employing a Yoga blessing upon them to start class—and with a French accent!

“Yeah, she’s for real,” the voice behind him brought him back to earth, or whatever planet he was on. “I actually think you’ll like her, too. If you aren’t diabetic.”

Ted nearly choked out loud at his companion’s humor. Now, this girl he might like.

But the opportunity to bond further was interrupted by the actual start of class, and Ted soon realized that here at EHS, the first day of school was not consumed with getting-to-know-you activities. Everyone already knew everyone else. These people got down to business on the very first day.

Forty minutes later, at the sound of the dismissal bell, Ted gathered his history homework—homework already!—and turned to follow his new friend out the door. But before he could reach out to her, Strawberry Blonde was gone, swallowed by the almost frightening hub of Ellison High School congregants.

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The remainder of Ted’s first day of senior year raced oddly by.

There was much chatter among his classmates, reminding him more of a holiday event than a normal school day. No one went out of their way to welcome him, but he wasn’t shunned either.

He learned that football was hugely revered in Ellison, not only by the players, but by the community as well. The first home game would be in a week, and participation was already underway.

It appeared the entire community revolved around these football games. Classes would dismiss early on game days in order to cheer on the team with a massive pep rally at the field behind the school.

Ted was unsure how he felt about this, not being a tremendous sports fan himself, but he could see what was expected of him as an EHS student, and he’d already heard his mother discussing the festivities with a neighbor. Knowing how much she enjoyed sports, he was convinced his presence at the field was already locked in stone. Since Dad was still away and expected to be gone until Christmas, he had no moral choice but to escort his mother.

She wanted to be a part of everything this community offered.

Upon leaving the school at the end of the day, Ted was glad to see Raymond parked in the lot, windows open and radio blaring.

They had a “date” to join the BMXers in the church field. He was excited to join Raymond, but he was also quite surprised that Raymond had remembered their plan to meet today. Supposedly, the mysterious girlfriend had returned and Raymond was busy preparing for his first semester at University. Having time to spend with the neighborhood new guy just didn’t sound so important to Ted, but evidently, Raymond had the identical mindset of the rest of the Ellison Aliens: always thinking of someone else.

Definitely, something Ted was struggling to get used to. Randal would never believe this.

With a mental nod to his estranged best friend, Ted recognized a tingle of guilt that he hadn’t been more aggressive in his plan to stay in touch with Randal. But, he did feel this was not an environment his pal could tolerate.

“Hey, brother! How was your first day? It certainly was considerate of the board of education to resume school on a 34

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Friday, huh?” Raymond pounded his steering wheel in time to the music from his car stereo. “Ready to rock and roll?”

Ted didn’t recognize the musical group or the song blaring from Raymond’s stereo, but it was definitely rock and roll.

“Sorry I haven’t been around this week, “ Raymond said. “I had some important business to attend.”

As Ted situated himself in the passenger seat of Raymond’s vintage Jeep, his driver continued keeping time with his hand and his monologue. “This is going to be awesome. Glad you wanted to come.”

When Ted and his mother visited the mall for back-toschool wear, Ted had wanted her to meet Raymond. But working behind the counter at the Book Barn was an older version of Fiona. Stately but warm, the proprietor of the book and coffee shop welcomed them with a fresh cup of the daily special and apologies for her assistant’s absence.

“Ray never slows down, so this little vacation is well deserved,” she told Patsy and him as they visited on the stuffed sofas in the back of the store.

“Sometimes I feel like a slave driver,” she continued, “but it’s mostly due to his insistence to keep a weekly forty-hour schedule while going to school, volunteering at the church, and maintaining a lovely relationship with his friends. He certainly has been a guardian angel to my Fiona.” Mrs. White sipped her herbal tea with the grace of old money, but never once exuded an air of superiority. “And our sweet, sweet Americka is so very blessed to have him in her life. He is an absolute jewel.”

Ted mirrored the confusion on his mother’s face at the mention of a third person to add to his growing list of names to commit to memory.

“Americka?” his mother questioned. “That is certainly an unusual name.”

“Yes, it is, but not as unusual as the person who wears it.

Americka Miller is an icon in the community since the terrorist attack that took her father a couple of years ago.” Mrs. White’s shudder was visible and Ted unknowingly mimicked her discomfort.

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Terrorist attack? In Ellison? Things were beginning to get very interesting.

By the time Mrs. White completed her story, both Patsy and Ted Williams were filled with emotion. Recently retired from the military, Lance Corporal Rick Miller was the victim of an “experimental” bombing at the Ellison Theatre two years before.

The perpetrators were practicing their terrorist skills in smalltown America before taking their knowledge to a more heavily populated location.

When Ted found out that Americka, Meri for short, was Raymond’s girlfriend, he knew it was his responsibility to investigate further. And when he learned that both Americka and Fiona were survivors of the deadly explosion, his interest multiplied. He needed to ask around when he felt more comfortable with his new classmates.

Raymond now led them to the center of the field, where he introduced Ted and encouraged everyone to welcome the newest resident of Ellison. Amid a chorus of hellos, Ted felt like sinking into the ground.

Until he saw her.

The girl from his first-period class. The backseat girl. The one he had looked for the rest of the day. Strawberry Blonde.

She sat cross-legged atop a colorful blanket, the same strange musical instrument he had seen at the Book Barn stretched over her knees. A faint strum of strings floated his way, and Ted stretched his hearing to catch any semblance of familiarity in what she played. She wasn’t paying any attention to the commotion on the field and didn’t once raise her head from her activity.

She apparently was not there to ride a bike. She was in her own little bubble, content to spend time with her instrument.

It was then Ted realized that not everyone present was there for the common good of BMX. Scattered on the sidelines were a variety of teens and pre-teens enjoying the late summer sunshine, reading, drawing, chatting with friends, or simply sunbathing. It was almost as if Ted had landed in a hippy commune.

For the first time since his arrival, he felt a certain comradery with the students of Ellison. The scene was not unlike the 36

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gatherings in the town square in the heart of his former city where residents of all walks of life gathered after school, after work, or for any other reason of lax time, including the supposedly hidden business of drug trade. Was this actually the Central Park of Ellison, West Virginia?

While Raymond opened the evening with a short prayer, Ted continued to admire the girl from afar. She was definitely an unusual female. Perky but sullen. Intense but indifferent. Petit but larger than life. A walking conflict.

Without any idea of his intentions, Ted moved toward her, keeping his eyes firmly on his goal, heart pounding erratically, perspiration forming a sheen on his body. What would he say?

What would she say? What should he do? What would she do?

He really didn’t have any idea why this was happening, nor did he know how to stop it.

Just when he was within speaking distance, she suddenly looked up as if she were aware of his fascination with her. She didn’t stop strumming. She didn’t smile. She didn’t blink. She didn’t do anything to indicate he was welcome in her world. Her concentration intensified on the musical instrument on her lap and her strumming became harsh, almost angry.

Ted knew then that he had made a mistake. He shouldn’t have intruded on her space. He didn’t even know her.

Throwing an awkward wave her way, Ted turned and walked away.

“Hey! Hey, new person, where are you going?”

Ted couldn’t believe it. She was actually talking to him.

Wanting to know where he was going. How the hell did he know?

“Come over here. I want you to meet someone.”

Ted pondered his options. She hadn’t made any indication of moving from her spot. Of course, he felt extremely silly walking toward this girl with all intents of engaging her in conversation, but then turning abruptly and walking away. Not only were his actions rude, but he just felt like a complete and total idiot.

His social skills regarding the opposite sex were limited. This was Randal’s forte and not something that had ever interested Ted. Girls were a complication he’d rather admire from afar. But 37

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this girl—she was different. And where Randal would probably regard her on a sexual scale of 1-10, Ted wasn’t interested in her physical allure, although she was pretty.

Her strawberry blond hair was unusual in itself—not really red, kind of blond, and not exactly brown. And because her complexion was creamy but not pasty white, Ted decided that he absolutely liked redheads. He couldn’t be certain of her eye color, not having the pleasure of being up close long enough to evaluate that feature, but from his current vantage point, he would hazard a guess at blue or very dark green. Although she wasn’t engaged in the physical athletic activity on the field behind him, she was still quite fit. Especially her arms. She had beautifully toned arms.

Ted mentally shook his head to clear it from further ridiculous thoughts. Who had ever obsessed about a person’s arms? What was he doing?

His perusal of her was interrupted by further words from the object of his reverie.

“New Person, come meet Nico. He is officially and famously our town’s resident red-headed Italian.”

He hadn’t noticed the second person on the blanket, too absorbed in the girl.

Nico wasn’t what Ted would call a true redhead. Nico was more of a carrot top. Because he lounged, no, slept, on the blanket beside the girl, Ted hadn’t noticed him. As she mentioned the third party, she gently jabbed the fret end of her instrument into Nico’s side, prodding him to consciousness.

“Nico, wake up. We have company.” As Nico slowly rose to rub at his eyes, the girl continued her monologue. ”The first day is always rough on him,” she explained to Ted as if this news was of essential importance.

“I told him he needed to prepare his body for the change to school hours, but he still insisted on burning the midnight hours on that damned-able computer of his. Hear that, Nico?”

She literally shoved the prone boy this time, forcing him into a more seated position. “You need to listen to sense. At least you’ll get good sleep tonight as long as you stay awake until nine or ten.

It’s for your own good. Wake up and meet New Person.”

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If Ted’s cheeks hadn’t been burning with embarrassment before, he was certain they were now. There was obviously a relationship here he hadn’t counted on while entertaining the idea of speaking with this girl. Was she and this Italian redhead a thing?

As Nico roused himself reluctantly, he grumbled at his attacker. “Grace, what is going on? I need sleep.”

Grace. Her name is Grace, Ted thought.

“So, I can’t keep calling you New Person, although it does have a certain mystery to it. What’s your name? Where’re you from? Tell us everything.”

Grace patted the blanket, inviting him to sit, and Nico managed to upright himself and offer a little smile of welcome.

And Ted told them everything. Where he was from, and that he now lived in Ellison. That his father had been gone for weeks and his mother was doing her best to get the family moved and established in a new town, but an old house.

Ted couldn’t believe he had opened up so thoroughly again.

Even if Grace did have the most amazing eyes (They were green.

Definitely green. The most incredible green Ted could ever imagine). She had strummed softly during his entire confessional, but it didn’t detract from the obvious interest these two had in what Ted had to say.

He told them everything—everything except about Randal.

For some reason, he didn’t want them to judge him too harshly, which was a totally new feeling for Ted. In the past, he hadn’t cared what other people thought of him. But this was a new start.

A new beginning. He needed to stay “clean” until graduation.

When he started telling them about the “ghost” in his attic bedroom, Nico sat fully alert and waved his arms in defeat.

“Whoa, man. Hold on. You have some serious baggage going on here.” As soon as Nico spoke, Ted knew they would be friends.

Or at least he wanted them to be friends. There was something about Nico that pulled Ted in, made him want to hang out with him. Just like Grace, he was like a warm fuzzy blanket of security.

“A ghost?” Grace questioned. “Are you sure? Is it friendly?

Are you scared?”

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She placed her musical instrument aside and all focus was placed on Ted. She and Nico clutched hands in anticipation, and Ted could hear in his mind Randal sarcastically humming, “Kumbaya.” But Ted brushed his friend’s presence away. He could finally tell someone about his nocturnal visitor and they didn’t think him weird.

He had wanted so badly to talk to his mother about the presence—and more importantly, about the wallet and the story inside—but he hadn’t found the right moment. She was so unhappy with his dad gone, leaving her with all the work of the move. She didn’t complain, but the stress was obvious. She didn’t need one more thing to worry about.

Since this new encounter with Grace and Nico was shortterm in Ted’s mind, he didn’t see any harm in picking their brains for answers.

So he told them about the wallet. And the story he’d found inside.

“Dude, that is awesome. Can we see it?”

Grace nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yeah, we need to see this. Nico, this is so, so Tell Tale Lilac Bush and Coffin Hollow.

The perfect story for this time of year, too.”

Nico nodded his bright orange head in agreement and Grace stared at Ted. “Have you heard of Dr. Ruth Ann Musick? She compiled several books of area ghostly incidents. You’ll hear more about it in school. Teachers like to talk about it this time of year because of Halloween. Plus, many of the contributors were from this area. Maybe your ghost is even mentioned in one of her collections.” Grace nearly drooled with excitement, except Ted couldn’t imagine her actually drooling. She was so composed, even in her state of excitement.

Now, Nico was another story. His excitement at the thought of ghost hunting had transformed his previously sleep-deprived face to a high state of anticipation.

The sound of a whistle interrupted their conversation, and the three of them looked toward the field. Bikers collected their belongings and pushed their bikes off the field. There were high fives and the sound of weekend plans being shared.

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Grace and Nico sighed in unison with obvious disappointment.

As they began collecting their own possessions, Ted stood up and looked down on them perplexed. “So, what’s going on? Do we have to leave?”

“No, we don’t have to leave, but it’s time to get home for dinner. Plus, Pastor Larry is very safety conscious. He doesn’t like to leave a hoard of teenagers to their own devices in the church field. Nothing bad has ever happened, but there is always that one time that would ruin it for everyone. This was the stipulation the town council set when Pastor requested that the church offer this time and space for after-school activities. As long as Pastor, or Raymond, agreed to be present for a couple of hours a day, the town is fine with this massive gathering of would-be delinquents.”

The smile in her words was obvious, yet Ted still shuddered with the implication there could be crime in perfect Ellison. Ted could imagine Randal’s glee at visiting this small town with all of its seemingly innocent community members. He’d have a field day here.

And suddenly, Ted felt very protective of his new neighborhood. Even with its weird wholesomeness, he was beginning to like it here. It felt clean, untouched, and ridiculously idealistic.

“Yeah, the whole town has been on red alert since the ‘bombing’.” Nico emphasized the word bombing with doublefinger quotes.

“So, that whole bombing thing really happened, huh?”

Looking out across the tranquility of the church field, Ted still found it difficult to believe such mayhem would occur here.

“You better believe it, Teddy boy.” Nico stretched himself to full height, arms reaching to the sky. “We all learned a lesson that day. Make the most of what you have and recognize your blessings. Right, Grace?”

“Every day, my red-headed friend. Every day.”

41

6 Houseguests And The Red-Headed Extinction Ted was nervous about his visitors, but was extremely pleased his mother didn’t make a huge deal out of it. She offered to order pizza, make cookies, and provide cold drinks, but didn’t impose upon Ted’s unexpected announcement that Grace and Nico were coming to call.

Not that Ted thought she would go overboard, but with his most recent socialization events, it wouldn’t have surprised him for Super Mom to emerge, cramping what he otherwise hoped to be a fun evening.

Grace and Nico were more than intrigued with his “ghost,” but he hoped they kept quiet around his mother. He still hadn’t mentioned the unusual noises in his room, nor had he shared his discovery of the wallet and its mysterious contents with his mother. For the first time in a long time, Ted needed peer advice.

He wasn’t surprised when his new friends asked to visit him, following their conversation at the church activity field the previous week. He was also excited to have Grace come to his home. Even if it did mean that the red-headed Italian was also involved. Nico provided a good cover story to give his mom.

It had been a relief to learn that Nico and Grace were actually cousins.

If Grace presented a mystery to Ted, Nico was really confusing. Ted had assumed Nico was a fellow student at Ellison High, but he hadn’t seen him in school at all during the week.

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They didn’t share any classes, making Ted think Nico must be an underclassman. And since Ted was enrolled mostly in advanced courses—a fact that further fascinated him because academics had never held any import to him before—he had to assume that Nico was in regular classes if he were a senior.

When the doorbell rang sharply at seven-thirty Friday evening, Ted clumped down the stairs to meet his guests at the door, but not before Patsy could take position within arms reach.

His mother had always been a social creature, mainly due to his father’s work, which demanded a certain level of business schmoozing. Any time a dinner party required hosting, she was there. She made certain that all Bobby’s work partners and associates had a Christmas stocking every year and that birthdays and anniversaries were recognized even when his father appeared totally dumbfounded at the thought of someone else’s special events. Newborn children always received a special monetary gift from the Williamses, thanks to Patsy’s keen observation. Her husband had difficulty remembering his own family member’s special days, let alone those of his employees.

But she never complained. It was as if his father’s associates, right down to the custodian, were members of her immediate family.

A turkey every Thanksgiving and a ham on Easter. Patsy made it happen while Bobby took all the credit.

“Hello!” Patsy greeted the guests with a little too much enthusiasm. If Nico and Grace noticed, they were experts at concealing their surprise.

“I am so excited to meet you both. Welcome to our home.

There are snacks in the kitchen and a fresh pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge. Ted can show you where everything is located. If you need anything, just yodel. I’m not going anywhere.”

Yodel? Ted glanced quizzically at his mother.

With an apologetic glance at Ted, Patsy made her departure to sort laundry. But Ted knew she’d have one ear open for requests.

After loading their plates with sustenance, Ted led Grace and Nico to his loft, as Nico named it immediately upon arrival to the attic.

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“This is so cool.” Grace admired the finished space. Attics traditionally stored excess possessions and were dark and filled with potentially annoying four-legged or eight-legged creatures, but somewhere along the way, this attic had received finishing touches, making it the perfect space for someone’s secret hideaway.

With its two cedar-lined closets and polished hardwood floor, it wasn’t 21st century in furnishings, but the Wi-Fi worked and Ted was completely content with his computer space.

“I can definitely feel a presence here,” Grace murmured as she surveyed Ted’s room.

“Oh, so what? You’re a psychic now?” Nico quipped.

“No, you moron. Can’t you feel the peace in this room? It just feels like a good place to be. Ted, I don’t think there’s anything evil in this room.” Grace smiled as if she were at one with whatever entity had been visiting Ted. Evil? That thought had never crossed Ted’s mind, but now he was filled with a new sense of anxiety. He didn’t believe in ghosts.

Or hadn’t until he got one.

“So, show us the wallet,” Nico suggested. “Let’s get this preHalloween party started.”

44

7 Redheads Anonymous “Hello. My name is Nico Salvatore, and I am a redhead.”

“Welcome, Nico.”

An impressive audience of predominately red-headed individuals filled the auditorium, all riffling nervously with their programs, picking invisible lint from their clothes, and basically doing anything to keep their eyes from wandering around the room.

Even though this was supposedly an anonymous gathering, there was no security that all information would remain in the room and in the minds of the participants. Anonymous was a good thing, but could it really be trusted?

This was a special meeting. News had hit the media just yesterday, and there were rumblings of rebellion and rioting. It was finally spoken. Redheads were an endangered species.

Current research projected that all variations of redheads would be extinct by 2060.

Taking Grace’s hand, Nico pulled her toward the podium to stand beside him. Their involvement in this movement was becoming more and more important.

They didn’t believe the news. How could they? Just in Ellison alone, there was an extensive population of redheads. And very few of them were related. Discounting the claim that the redheaded gene ran rampant within family structures, Nico was the only redhead in his own family and hadn’t been able to trace 45

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the occurrence within the last two centuries of his own “clan.”

Grace, not being a flaming redhead, was a little less concerned with the fate of her species, but there was still a sincere interest.

Both her grandparents on her mother’s side sported the same strawberry blonde head as she, and there was speculation as to the existence of a carrot top or two several generations back.

According to a recent National Geographic Study, less than two percent of the world’s population had natural red hair. Red hair became a reality in the world with a mutation of sorts that existed in Northern Europe over two thousand years before.

But it may very well be true that the mutation had worn out its visit, and redheads would become extinct in the very near future.

“Ted. Ted, baby, wake up!”

Ted looked wildly around the crowded room and finally found Grace and Nico smiling approvingly at him. He memorized their faces and silently prayed to a God he had yet to meet that his new friends would be spared the pain of extinction.

“Ted, we’re going to be late! Breakfast is on the table.”

He looked up at his friends on the stage again and felt a quickening of his heart. He really, really liked these guys and didn’t think he could endure the next few months in Small Town Ellison without them. What would happen to them? Would they just disappear from space?

And Grace . . . oh, my . . .

“Ted Williams, get down here!”

With a playful flick of her hand, Grace urged him to motivate toward the doors. It was time to go. He looked back at her as consciousness claimed him. But it wasn’t a gentle awakening. Ted nearly jumped out of the confines of the bedsheet and pillow to gasp his way awake.

“What the hell?” Ted jerked awake with words spewing forcibly from his mouth. Words of which his mother would never approve, even if he was nearly eighteen years old.

“Teddy? Are you up? What was that noise? Are you okay?”

His eyes lit on the bedside alarm clock. It took several seconds for the time to register with him, but when it did, Ted 46

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catapulted from bed and danced around the room looking for suitable clothing articles. First talking spirits, now ridiculous dreams about redhead conventions. Ted shook his head in a rattling attempt to clear the cobwebs.

It wasn’t school he was apparently late for. When Ted bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, he was met with a stylishly dressed woman decked out in her Sunday best. Hair perfectly styled and screen-worthy make-up, Patsy Williams was obviously ready for something important.

“Oh, Ted, sweetheart, I know that the kids and even Pastor Larry said that church service was casual, but I really do think you can do a little better than wrinkled jeans and a day-old T-shirt. Why don’t you jump in the shower real quick and see if you can find something a little more suitable for church? I can keep these pancakes warm if you hurry.”

Church? They were going to church?

And then it all came back to him: His HUGE discussion with Nico and Grace. It had lasted nearly all weekend. After spending hours discussing the wallet and the note in it and never once experiencing any ghostly events on Friday evening, the trio had shifted its focus to weekend plans. Ted remembered getting excited about nightlife in Ellison, but when Grace informed him the big excitement of the weekend was a picnic at the church activity field following Sunday services, Ted became hesitant. So the entire neighborhood pretty much gathered on sacred ground for an all-age play date?

In the end, he agreed to participate. It wasn’t the entire community, but close enough. Like one big happy family, Ellison citizens converged upon church grounds for an assortment of reasons.

“The late service begins in thirty minutes, and you know how I like to arrive early, so get a move on it.”

His mother practically shooed him out of the kitchen while wrapping his pancakes in foil and rinsing the coffee pot clean.

“Hey, New Person, you made it!”

Ted heard Grace before he saw her and quickly slicked a hand over his head in search of stray hairs.

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The action didn’t go unnoticed by his mother, and he was glad she made no more of the issue than was necessary.

“You look fine, Ted.” Patsy Williams looked around anxiously but made no move to leave his side. They were both a bit nervous, and he hoped it didn’t show as much as he felt it.

Grace made her way to their side, being sure to come close but not touch either of them. Her hair was twisted loosely at the top of her head, allowing delicate tendrils to fall randomly on either side of her face. A slight trace of make-up brightened her features. She was clad in a Bohemian-inspired summer dress that fell almost to her ankles, meeting the strappy leather of her jeweled sandals.

She didn’t look much different than normal, so it was true that Sacred Sanctuary abided by its promise for attendees to “come as you are.”

“Do you two want a drink? Coffee? Tea? Lemonade? It’s all set up in the hospitality room downstairs. I think there are cookies, too.”

Grace was nearly jumping up and down in an attempt to welcome the newcomers to her church. She appeared sincerely excited to see them—and even more excited to be here.

Ted didn’t know what it was, but the energy of Sacred Sanctuary was electric and visible in the church vestibule, making him wonder about the rest of the impressive building.

He and his mother followed Grace down a gradual slope of stairs into a brightly lit, crowded space filled with an assortment of individuals doing an assortment of things.

“Because it’s the beginning of school, the church committees set up their annual welcome day, so sometime before you leave, check out all of the groups available. You don’t have to belong to one, but some of them are really, really fun.” Grace bulldozed her way toward the refreshments, all the while taking time to return greetings and comments around her.

“Do you knit, Mrs. Williams, or crochet? Some of the women meet weekly to work on prayer shawls, but I really think it’s probably just a big gossip circle. They do some nice work, though.

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I’ve seen their pieces. Of course, they meet during the day, so if you have a job, that might not be for you.”

Chattering on, Grace handed Ted a paper cup of lemonade and offered Patsy a cup of coffee without even asking their preferences. It was like she was on autopilot. Ted wanted to tell her to breathe. Just breathe. She was going all out to introduce them to this, her world, Sacred Sanctuary, The Church of Go. “Oh, and Ted, I think you’d really like some of the gaming clubs we have. Have you ever played D and D? I don’t really understand it, but it sounds like fun.”

Wait. Hold the door. Do they play Dungeons and Dragons in church?

Before he could respond, Grace was off on another tangent, this time in the direction of his mother.

“Mrs. Williams, I really want to introduce you to some ladies of the church. I just know you’re going to get on famously.” And with that, Ted was set aside and his mother was led by Grace to a nearby table surrounded by a chattering group of ladies he presumed was Grace’s imminent target.

Finally, he had a chance to really get a good look at the hospitality room. There were two big-screen televisions on the wall displaying other rooms in the church, one of which was obviously the main sanctuary. A musical band seemed to be arranging things on a stage, checking sound, and adjusting volume. They didn’t look professional, but appeared to know what they were doing.

So, Sacred Sanctuary didn’t have the traditional robe-clad choir. Ted was curious about the musical portion of today’s sermon. He hoped it wasn’t too hokey. Even though he’d willingly agreed to be dragged along to church, he wasn’t certain his composure would remain intact if the worship service suddenly turned into a howling revival scenario. Having only heard about the big evangelical events that normally televised from the Midwest, Ted knew he couldn’t tolerate a three-hour or more performance by an Elvis impersonating minister.

Then he remembered Pastor Larry and his long braid of hair; The Harley Davisson motorcycle; His cool way of talking to you 49

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as if you were an equal and not a sin-infested vermin awaiting judgment.

Just at that moment, the overhead lights blinked. Once.

Twice. People gathered their belongings and headed toward the door. The chatter was still lively and didn’t really stop when the congregants of Sacred Sanctuary found their seats.

“I hope you don’t mind that I sit with you,” Grace said as she herded Ted and his mother to a cushioned pew way too close to the front for Ted. He was just basically a backseat kind of guy, no matter what the venue was. But he was wedged between his mother and Grace with no recourse to object.

A thin fellow clad in worn jeans and a grunge band T-shirt stepped up to the microphone and welcomed the congregation briefly before counting off a lively beat for the band to follow. Two guitars, a bass fiddle, drums, and keyboard followed the band director’s lead. If traditional hymns were what Ted expected, he was pleasantly disappointed.

The music was upbeat, contemporary, and a mixture of jazz and bluegrass.

A striking redhead accompanied the instrumentals with a soulful humming to round out the introduction to a song Ted had never heard before, but identified as strangely familiar. The congregation stood, some of them, not all, to begin a sensual clapping in time with the singer’s tune.

It was almost as if the congregation was participating in a free rock concert, not the melancholy church songs Ted expected.

Ted hazarded a look around him, but all eyes are on the band—if not looking at a neighbor with whom a conversation was being shared. His mother smiled broadly and did her best to keep time with the music. Grace grinned and sang at the top of her lungs. Not a bad voice, but her enthusiasm was a bit unnerving. Ted didn’t know whether to be concerned or if he should allow himself to be swept up in the moment.

After three songs, one right after the other, Ted wondered if the service was all music. But then, the grunge guy slung his guitar over one shoulder and welcomed everyone once again.

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He asked how they bowed their heads and offered a short but convincing prayer of thanks.

Pastor Larry walked toward the pulpit, clapping his hands and nodding in appreciation of the day’s music. “Praise the Lord for such a wonderful start to this glorious service. Let’s show our appreciation for our praise team with a hearty Amen!”

The congregation complied at the top of their voices and clapped boisterously before sitting down to be further gratified.

And gratified they were.

Ted had never heard such a sermon. Not overwhelmingly laced with scripture quotes or admonishments, Pastor Larry spoke without condensation. Even though commonsense told him the message was much longer, Ted was amazed when Pastor bowed his head and gave a final word of prayer signifying the conclusion of the service.

51

8 Randal Rears His Head “Hey, white meat! Long time, no see!”

He didn’t recognize recognized the return number on his cell phone, but Randal’s voice was unmistakable. He was supposed to be locked up. For quite a while. Wasn’t he?

“You there?” Randal brought Ted back to the immediate situation.

Just the sound of Randal’s voice set something off in Ted. He had managed to pack his former friend away in his mind lately, not allowing him time to cloud his good thoughts. He should be excited to hear from him. Right?

“Oh, hey, Randal. How’s it going?”

“Good, man. Real good. Glad you answered the phone. Got a new number and didn’t know if you would pick up.”

“Yeah, I’m here. You out on good behavior?” Ted attempted to keep his tone light, but was having difficulty adjusting his mindset back to the pander he and Randal once shared. It felt awkward and just not as natural as it once had.

“Yeah, something like that. Listen, man, where did you go?

I heard you moved. Where are you? Give me directions and I’ll figure out a way to get there.”

No, no, no, no, NO! Ted’s inner voice screamed. He was just getting on the right track. Life was good. Better than he could ever remember. Grace’s smile lit up in his brain. Nico’s sarcasm about redheads and their imminent extinction was the funniest 52

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thing he’d heard in a long time. Pastor Larry and his shiny motorcycle was more intriguing than any fancy sports car or glittering mansion Randal had ever envisioned.

No. Randal could NOT come to Ellison. He could not and would not darken this unsullied territory. Ellison was Ted’s domain, not Randal’s. The label “street punk” entered Ted’s mind and he shuddered at the thought of reinserting himself into that life. Randal didn’t belong here. Randal didn’t belong in Ted’s life.

Yet, here he was, living and breathing only a phone line away.

Not in jail. Not safely tucked away in a memory.

“Uh, I doubt you could get here before dark, and the streets pretty much roll up when the sun goes down. Not much to do here, Randal.” Ted’s palms suddenly felt slimy with perspiration.

“Oh, come on, man, you know we’re good at finding our own action. No town too small. No street too quiet. Give me directions, man. I’ve got wheels. At least for now. And, Ted, I am not afraid of the dark.” Randal laughed into the phone, making Ted jumpy with conflicting emotions. Randal was right. They had always managed to find their own action, no matter the circumstances.

Something or someone slapped Ted on the forehead, jarring him into the reality he was cultivating in Ellison. No, Randal could not come here.

“How about I give you a call tomorrow? We’ll set up something then. I have somewhere to be this evening.” The words were out of Ted’s mouth before his invisible guardian angel could inflict any more damage to him. He had to do something, say something, make Randal hang up.

“Really, man? I’ve been locked away for months and you tell me we can’t hook up tonight? What kind of pal are you?” Randal sounded pissed and he probably was, but Ted had to get off the phone and get to the church.

“I guess I can understand the short notice. You are a busy man, I’m sure. So, go do what you gotta do, bro. I’ll see ya soon.”

“Okay. Cool, Randal. Talk to you later.” The phone was becoming uncontrollably slippery in Ted’s hand and he couldn’t wait to cut the connection. The sooner he got off the phone, the sooner his heart rate could slow down.

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“Over and out, man.”

And with that, Randal disconnected the phone line, leaving Ted in a room of silence.

“Now, what are you going to do, Teddy?”

Ted swirled in his seat, insanely believing that Randal had found him and was really in the room with him. But there was no one there, just the echo of ghostly words.

The church field was busy per usual, this evening with young children chasing a soccer ball with little idea of what the actual purpose was. Raymond was by the picnic tables and cast a wave in his direction. He was happy to see that Raymond’s girlfriend was with him.

Grace and Nico were not positioned on the grass in their normal space, but had relocated to the pavilion and under cover from the darkening rain clouds. So far, it hadn’t happened, but Ted would not be surprised if Raymond and Pastor Larry’s evening social time didn’t soon adjourn to the interior of the church. As perfect as Ellison appeared, the seasons still changed, and cooler weather was soon approaching.

“There you are, New Person. We thought you were going to dump us.”

Ted was confused until he heard the church bell peal the hour. Five o’clock. He was nearly an hour late.

“Sorry. I got caught up in something,” he mumbled and felt uncanny remorse for his time wasted with Randal’s phone call.

“No prob, man. We’re just glad you’re here now.” Nico seemed cheerful.

“Maybe you are, but I was thinking about heading home.

Looks like it’s going to rain soon,” Grace snapped. “And something just feels off.”

What was her problem?

“Chill, Gracey. The guy’s just a little late. It’s not like he broke a date or something.” Nico paused, glancing from Grace to Ted and resumed in video voice, “Or da-da-da, did he?”

There was an awkward moment of silence that made Ted feel like he shouldn’t have come at all. Maybe he should’ve given Randal directions to Ellison. He didn’t deserve to be here with 54

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these good people anyway. Maybe his place was in the city, on the streets, making mischief, getting into trouble. That’s where he was going to end up anyway in just a few short months. His time in Ellison was limited. Why not make a clean break now?

Nico must have noticed the change in Ted’s demeanor.

“Seriously, Ted. It’s no big deal. We were just talking about your ghost situation. Seen or heard from her lately?”

Ted took a deep breath and came back to the peace being around Nico and Grace inspired. It was kind of uncanny how they always seemed to know when something was on his mind.

Thank goodness they weren’t good enough at mind-reading to know about Randal or Ted’s old life. He smiled. “As a matter of fact, she and I were just discussing an issue before I left the house.”

All ears now, Grace’s face lit up and she urged him to continue.

“It was really no big deal. I was just talking to myself, and she kinda took over my brain for a minute. That sounds absolutely crazy, I know. I really think I’m just using her as an invisible friend. You know how you have one when you’re little. Did you have one?”

Nico nodded his head crazily and nearly fell over his own words in an attempt to share. For someone with a genius IQ, he could be crazy goofy.“Mine was a kangaroo!”

Grace giggled.

Everything was going to be okay. Ted didn’t need to worry about Randal coming to Ellison. He’d figure something out and keep his new friends innocent of his former life.

A huge clap of thunder announced the arrival of the brewing storm.

A storm named Randal Marks.

Ted heard the voice before he saw its owner.

“Hey, Gingersnap! You are one babe! No wonder ol’ Ted here didn’t want me to meet you. He knows I have a thing for redheads, don’t ya, Teddy?” Randal’s smile was pinched as he emerged with the first streak of lightning. His eyes weren’t exactly in focus, a condition not unfamiliar to Ted, even if he himself never partook in one of Randal’s favorite pass times.

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“I really didn’t need your directions. I was already here!”

Randal’s maniacal cackling further proved he was under the influence.

Jet black hair greased back into a low man bun, Randal was the epitome of street scum. His desert-issue camouflage cargo pants rested low on his hips, both from design and due to the heavy chains wrapped around his waist. The black leather Doc Martin boots on his feet were stylish in the city but totally out of place in Ellison. And the tattoos! Ted had forgotten all about his friend’s impressive addiction to body art. Some of them were really rather interesting, but most were black and creepy. Ted noticed a few new crude additions on Randal’s arms and had to wonder if they were compliments of prison artists.

If Grace was offended by Randal’s appearance, she didn’t show it. But Nico was another case. His eyes flew to Randal’s ear lobes. It really was difficult not to gawk. Ted actually got a little nauseous every time he looked at his pal’s lobes. The holes were HUGE. Randal could actually insert an entire finger through one lobe without touching the remaining flesh.

“What are you staring at, Opie? Never seen a real man?”

Nico blanched even whiter than his natural hue at Randal’s questions and quickly averted his gaze to Ted, obviously confused and full of questions.

If Randal noticed the silent inquisition, he made no indication.

“So, Teddy, these your new friends? I certainly approve of this one,” Randal moved closer to Grace, brushing his hand suggestively up and down her arm. “Maybe she would like to go with us? What d’ya say, beautiful? Want to take a ride with the Tedmeister and me? We’ll show you things you’ve probably never seen before. Bet your new boyfriend hasn’t told you about the fun he and I know how to find. Especially after lights out, huh, Ted?” Grace did her best to move an inch toward Ted but was stopped by Randal’s sudden grab of her arm.

“You sure have some smooth skin, baby. Bet you feel like this all over, don’t ya?”

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“Randal, leave her alone. She’s not like that.” Ted fought to keep the anger that was building inside him at bay. He and Randal had never been active in the opposite sex adventures—at least he wasn’t.

“What do you mean, man? I don’t mean nothin’ by it. Just havin’ a little fun.” Randal let go of Grace and raised his arms high in the air. “Just funnin’. But seriously, let’s blow this joint.

It’s Friday night. Time to get our party on. C’mon, Ted. Jimmy Z loaned me his car for the weekend. Let’s take advantage of our good luck. All it cost me was two joints and a promise to meet up with him tomorrow.”

Grace flinched at the reference to drugs and looked at Ted imploringly for an explanation. She was not panicking yet, but Nico seemed to shrink inside himself.

“Hey, Grace, maybe we should go inside and let Ted visit with his buddy,” Nico’s voice didn’t actually squeak, but . . . .

“That’s right, Carrot Top. Why don’t you scurry on home and let us, uh, visit? But I think your sister is going with us.

Isn’t that right, Gingersnap?” Randal stared pointedly at Grace, whose awareness of possible danger was becoming clearer by the second.

“I don’t think so, uh, Randal. I need to go too. In fact, the three of us had plans. Right, Ted?” Ted’s insides squirmed at the thought of Randal’s intentions toward Grace. This couldn’t be happening. He struggled with a combination of discomfort for Grace and with the accompanying repercussions he knew were imminent by denying Randal. His old friend didn’t take too kindly to refusal.

As Ted struggled with what would surely be an ugly scene, his fellow Friday attendees bustled about to secure their belongings from the looming storm fast approaching. Clouds darkened the sky, and the feel of rain was more than a hint. With the wind whipping about, it became obvious to Ted that a mass exodus to the indoors was in progress.

“Really, Ted? You have plans with these little carrot sprouts?

We haven’t seen each other in ages. Don’t you think you owe it to your old pal some quality time to catch up? Besides, it may be a 57

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while before Jimmy Z loans out his wheels to me again. Once he recovers from his last encounter, he’ll probably be riding herd on all of his possessions, the car being top of the list. And, you know how Jimmy gets with his car.”

Ted knew all too well but didn’t want to discuss the swinging personality of Jimmy Z in front of Nico and Grace. That would take too much explaining. And he wasn’t ready to open that can of worms right now.

“Maybe you would like to join us, Randal? The more the merrier, right?” Nico seemed to have recovered his wits, surprising both Ted and Grace with this generous although ridiculous invitation. Did he not see that Randal entering Sacred Sanctuary for a Friday night continuation of fellowship would be extremely dangerous?

No, of course he didn’t. Nico had probably never met the likes of Randal Marks in his life. Ted tried desperately to make eye contact with Nico. Hopefully, his new friend would read the message he was sending. This is not a good idea, Nico. This IS NOT a good idea.

But Nico either chose not to read the warning, or he was so wrapped up in attempting to bond with this stranger that his good intentions overruled any instinctive warnings that Ted transmitted.

“Oh, well, that is a real nice invite, Opie. Sure, I would love to see what ol’ Teddyboy has been getting himself into these days.

This looks like a real profitable church. Lead the way!”

And with that, the four of them walked toward the doors of Sacred Sanctuary, Ted’s eyes cast down, Nico babbling with excitement, and Randal smiling warmly in Grace’s direction.

The ceiling didn’t cave in and the walls didn’t crumble upon their entrance, but there was an obvious wavering of candles and a black shadow that Ted was certain everyone in the building felt. Randal Marks didn’t belong in these revered halls. It was as if the angel of darkness had dared to mar this space of love and acceptance, making the spirits work overtime to guard against the threat of danger.

Randal was oblivious.

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Grace led them into the main sanctuary, much to Ted’s surprise. After-school participants always met in the hospitality area. The sanctuary wasn’t necessarily off limits, but the praise team was warming up for a full-on rehearsal. Pastor Larry was engaged in a spirited conversation with Jeremy, the praise team leader, and Ringo vied for attention with some weird rendition of a rock-n-roll beat on his trap set. It was pandemonium at its finest.

Normally the noises emanating from the stage and the raucous laughter among band members formed a joyful cacophony, but this was more like a war song announcing serious battle. Was he the only one to understand the symbolism of this?

Grace refused to meet his gaze and continued her march toward the pastor.

Pastor Larry barely looked up before spouting out delightedly, “Randal Marks, as I live and breathe! How’re you doing, man?

Good to see you out.”

Ted’s jaw nearly hit the ground. Grace paused in her approach.

Nico, well, Nico just looked goofily from the pastor to Randal.

But Randal—Randal looked as if he were truly coming faceto-face with his maker. His eyes glazed over and his normally stoic expression turned ashen with a slight sheen of perspiration. Ted had never seen Randal so uncomfortable. His hands appeared to be visibly shaking and his constant smug look was stripped from his demeanor as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And he was. He’d been caught red-handed in something unknown to anyone but he and the good pastor.

“How’s your family, Randal? Brother doing well? Mom still grinding away at making ends meet?” As Pastor Larry continued to smile and nod in Randal’s direction, a dense silence fell upon the room. Praise team leader Jeremy took a noticeable step backward and Ringo ceased his pounding. All eyes were on Randal and the pastor, awaiting direction as to how to interpret this strange arrival of events.

Randal swallowed as he struggled to regain the upper hand.

He was no longer in control of the situation, and he knew it.

Although Randal was rarely denied attention in a crowd, it was evident that the foundation was shaking and the wheels had clearly fallen off his wagon of control.

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“Hey, Jesus, long time, no see.” Randal’s voice wasn’t shaking, but his hands were.

“Not as long as I expected, though, Randal. But I’m happy to see you’re working hard on bettering yourself. And coming here first thing after your release? Good job, Randal.”

Pastor Larry turned to the praise team to address the confusion on their faces.

“It’s no big deal, gang. Why don’t you carry on without me?

You know I’m not much help anyway. Mr. Marks and I need to have a little chat.” He then turned to Grace, Nico, and Ted with parting words. “I’ll see you cats on Sunday. Have a good weekend.”

Not even waiting for any type of response from Randal, the leader of Sacred Sanctuary—AKA Church of Go—gestured for him to follow out the side aisle toward the office. Surprisingly, Randal didn’t even look back as he dutifully followed the man.

Pastor Larry knew Randal?

“That was weird, huh?” Nico was the only one of the three attempting conversation. Ted was stunned. Grace seemed weirded out.

“But, it’s neat, huh, Ted? Your old friend and Pastor Larry know one another. Cool.”

Ted just shook my head, still reeling in disbelief. “Yeah, cool.”

“I’ll see you two later,” Grace said and made to leave.

“Wait, Gracey! I thought we had plans. We need to get over to Ted’s and talk to his ghost.”

Grace didn’t break stride, but paused long enough to reply to Nico, not once looking at Ted. “I think we just met Ted’s ghost, Nico. Or at least one of them. I think I’ve had enough of Friday for now. Call me later?”

That said, she left Nico confused and Ted with a hurting heart.

60

9 The Calling “Ted?” his mother called. “Thank goodness you’re home. Are you okay?” Her momma-bear instincts were growing stronger the longer it was the two of them alone. “I had a really weird phone call earlier and I just—I don’t know—I just felt like something bad was happening.” She looked near tears and wrung her hands in despair.

“Who called, Mom? What do you mean weird?” Ted asked, trying to keep concern out of his own voice. Of course, Randal had dialed the house. He’d been tracking Ted’s whereabouts and wanted to make sure he had the right location.

“The phone rang once and no one was there. Then it rang again, and all I could hear were car horns and city noise, so I assumed it was someone from, uh, home. But the line was disconnected again. When it rang a third time and no one was there, I got concerned. That Randal Marks is still in jail, isn’t he?”

“Why would you think it was Randal calling? I think you and Dad pretty much made it plain that he was never to contact us again.” Ted’s own hands fought to remain still, but his heart was racing. He knew without looking an uncomfortable red rash was growing up from of his shirt collar. He had to get this situation under control. Pronto.

“No need to worry, Mom. I’m home and I’m not planning to go out again this evening. What’s for supper?” He hoped his tone

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was as light as he tried to make it. “I’m just going upstairs and take a quick shower.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m just making cheeseburgers. And then, maybe we can watch a movie together?”

“Sure, Mom. I’ll be down soon.”

Ted barely made it to his attic sanctuary before tears began to spill. Why did Randal have to come back into his life again?

How did Pastor Larry know him? Would Grace ever speak to him again?

He couldn’t forget the fear in her eyes as Randal manhandled her on the church lawn nor could he erase the unease that she predicted something wasn’t quite right.

As Ted toweled off after his shower and dressed in clean clothes, he worried about being home alone with his mother.

She could sometimes read him like a book, and he had no intentions of telling her that her Randal concerns were wellfounded. He didn’t want her worrying about him having any further involvement with Randal, but he also had to wonder at his own reluctance to reunite with the guy he’d planned to spend his future with. That life was so exciting—so full of energy. His plan was to do what he had to do here in Small Town, USA, and then join Randal in their planned life of fun, fun, fun.

But fun had taken a new twist of late. He really wanted to know what would or could develop with his new relationships, and his curiosity about Pastor Larry was sincere. He liked the way the man preached, even if Ted had only witnessed one church service. Pastor Larry was genuine, as far as Ted could determine. He didn’t pass judgment and seemed really interested in the youth in his congregation.

And Ted was sincerely enjoying spending time with his mother. They weren’t the standard family unit, and the reappearance of his father was certain to dictate Ted’s further decisions about the future, even if he was certain the future was one without Randal Marks.

As he paced his attic room, Ted found himself in need of someone to talk to. Someone other than his mother, Grace, or Nico. And now that there seemed to be a relationship between 62

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Randal and Pastor Larry, the latter was not a viable source of confidence.

A rustle of papers caught Ted’s attention when a slight breeze wafted through the open window, directing Ted’s gaze toward the old dresser.

For some reason, he opened the top drawer and lifted out the weathered wallet that rested on its former contents. He carefully removed the yellowed piece of paper and realized what he truly needed to do right now. And it had nothing to do with Randal.

Or Grace. Or Nico. Or Pastor Larry.

Ted needed to know what this story meant. Who wrote it?

Maybe his mother would have some answers. If nothing else, it would take her mind off thoughts of strange phone calls.

63

10 A Much Needed Conversation “Your great-grandfather was a huge baseball fan. His dream was to play ball professionally, but that just wasn’t possible.

Students didn’t always finish high school, let alone venture out into the world to seek wonderful adventures. There was limited money for college, and his family hadn’t planned that for their son. He was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into the family business. And that wasn’t a shabby prospect. The Universal Dry Cleaners was actually the only establishment of its sort in the tri-county area, so they got all the business. That was where your great-grandfather spent most of his time. After school, he’d head directly to the cleaners where he’d do his homework and work odd jobs to help out. By the time he was old enough to drive, he was taking deliveries to area businesses and picking up orders. Around the cleaners, he helped with folding and stacking wire hangers and organizing the lost and found.

There was always something to do.”

After Ted showed his mother what he’d found in the old wallet, Patsy relaxed into a story that would possibly answer a few questions.

“That letter you found is probably genuine. Late nights always found him stuck in a corner somewhere while the old geezers congregated for a sip of whiskey and a game of cards.

The Universal Dry Cleaners was also a popular meeting ground

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for the gentlemen around town. They met there to discuss their weeks, make plans, and even do a little preaching.”

The teakettle whistled its shrill alarm, and Patsy rose from her seat. “Do you want something to drink?” she asked and prepared a cup of chai for herself.

Ted shook his head, impatient to hear the rest of the story.

“Anyway, what you hold in your hand is something your great-grandfather probably wrote after one such gathering. You see, one of the businessmen, Tom Yawkey, who owned a paving company right here in Ellison, also owned the Boston Red Sox. Mr. Yawkey was responsible for bringing Ted Williams to this town. Ted Williams. And, yes, you are named after a muchadmired man in the world of baseball. Although I didn’t know who he was before I met your dad, I quickly acquired as many books on the subject as I could once I realized how important this man was to our family. I’ve got them all somewhere in a box with a collection of baseball cards. We can look for them later if you want.”

Mom paused long enough to take a sip of tea. At first, I thought my questions had upset her, but the more she talked, the more animated she became. “Anyway, one night when your great-grandfather’s presence had been virtually forgotten, he supposedly overheard this conversation taking place at the card table. The words that most marked his memory were Ted Williams is coming to town.

“He was so excited, and every time he told this story, he regained that animation. Your great-grandfather was known for his exaggerated tales, so most of what he relayed about the past was larger than life, just like he described his own father in this story. But when he spoke about Ted Williams, you couldn’t help but believe him. The story never changed, and the details were always the same. This was truly the biggest event of his life.”

Patsy stood again to grab an unopened bag of vegetable straw snacks.

“You see, Ted Williams, legendary baseball hero, was related to Mr. Haddad, who owned the local Heck’s franchise. They were distant cousins, I think. They shared a love for hunting, and 65

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because this is an acclaimed location for grouse hunting, there was always a huge gathering of grouse hunters in attendance. Mr. Haddad told his pal Mr. Williams was indeed joining them for the big hunt and he would be in town for two whole days.

Your great-grandfather was too young to join the hunters.

He couldn’t even hold the gun steady. But he was determined to go, to meet his idol, to be with Ted Williams. He just had to figure out a way to be included. He didn’t dare ask his mother.

There were just too many adults involved, and the possibility of alcoholic beverages.

So, your great-grandfather began scheming. He had to meet Ted Williams, and he had to be part of the day. It was his only chance to be in the presence of what his eight-year-old mind viewed as the greatest celebrity to ever visit Ellison.”

“But, Mom, why was this Ted Williams so important to him?” Ted ventured a question, hoping that it wouldn’t distract his mother from a truly amazing story.

“You have to remember, Ted, this was the late 1930s, early 1940s. Electronic entertainment didn’t exist. Young folks spent the majority of their time helping at home, playing neighborhood sports, or spending time with family. There were no computers and definitely no cell phones. Children wanted and needed to be with family. Normally, a hunting expedition wouldn’t have created such a stir because many people depended on hunting season for winter staples. But this was an adult event. And Ted Williams was a household name in those days. It wasn’t every day that a sports hero was viewed as just an ordinary individual with interests in such things as hunting.

“Every little boy wanted to be a Ted Williams or a Micky Mantle. The few known movie star influences were Superman and other comic book icons that even though they were admired, their owners were absolutely superhuman. Ted Williams was a walking, breathing man. His influence over kids was immeasurable. Legends like Williams were immortalized in their human abilities of greatness. Ted Williams was a star. As a soldier, he gave America hope in the aftermath of the War.

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“Your great-grandfather spent hours listening to the Red Sox on the radio. He and his friends were frantic to be like Ted Williams. They devoted hours to practicing their pitches, running bases in the backyard, and emulating the kind of life they believed their heroes led. These were mortal giants in their minds. Even the girls swooned over Ted Williams. He was supposedly extremely handsome. His charms were lost on few who knew of him. Everyone in America knew who Ted Williams was. It isn’t surprising this was the most important event of your great-grandfather’s life.”

Patsy took another sip of her drink before rising to her feet and stretching. “Let’s take a break. Let’s see if we can find the books I told you about. Maybe if you knew a little more about the other Ted Williams, this would make more sense to you.”

“No, Mom!” Ted nearly shouted in his desperation to hear more of the story. “I mean, sure. I would like to see those books.

But could you tell me first why I was named after this baseball legend? Dad has never expressed much interest in baseball.

And we’re talking about his grandfather. How did Dad become convinced to name me after someone his granddad worshipped?”

Patsy couldn’t help but laugh at her son’s question. “Actually, honey, if your father had had it his way, you probably would’ve been named after Ted Nugent or Rocky Balboa,” Patsy grinned.

“But Martha made a very special request and your dad honored it. She was an enormous baseball fan. And she probably had a little crush on Ted Williams.”

The story was taking a new twist.

“In fact, Martha evidently gave your granddad the perfect answer to his dilemma. Because the Williams’s were so influential and they owned the biggest house around, often visitors stayed with them. Right here. In this very house.”

Ted stared at his mother. This was the information he needed.

“This house has been in your dad’s family for nearly two centuries. Your grandparents moved in here when your grandfather’s parents died. There were many rumors of ghosts and strange noises, but they really didn’t find that odd, what with all the guests who had stayed here over the years. In fact, your 67

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

great-grandmother Martha used the house as a boarding house when her husband died. Transient coal miners and salesmen often booked rooms here, and none were turned away as long as they could abide by Martha’s rules: No women, no booze, be in by dark, don’t be late for the supper table, and agree to be present at the pinochle table by nine o’clock. It was quite the place to be.

“But, I’m getting away from the story. You see, not only were there rumors of ghostly sightings, but there were also rumors about your great-grandmother and the legendary baseball player Ted Williams. No one knows how true the stories are, but your grandfather actually enjoyed the possibility of being Ted Williams’s illegitimate son.”

Ted processed his mother’s words. “Whoa! You mean someone in our family had an affair? That’s crazy. They were so old!”

Patsy laughed. “They weren’t old then. You do realize that everyone was young at some time, don’t you?”

Ted shook his head as if to clear cobwebs or irrational thoughts before responding to his mother. “I know that, Mom. Geesh. But people just didn’t do that kind of thing back then.”

“Sure they did, Ted. Years just add wrinkles, not erase human feelings.”

“Okay, whatever you say, but get back to the story. Did Grandpa get to go hunting with Ted Williams?”

The chime of a cell phone interrupted his mother’s opportunity to reclaim her story.

Ted looked up toward his attic room, recognizing Randal’s ring tone. There was no way he was going to answer that. Not now. Not ever.

Yes, he’d like to know what had transpired between Pastor Larry and Randal, but he really didn’t want to know that badly, and his mother’s story was far more interesting than anything Randal could have to say.

“Shouldn’t you get that, honey? It may be that lovely Grace, or even Nico. He’s a funny one. Not funny weird, funny ha-ha. I like them both very much.”

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But Ted didn’t move and still the phone rang. Mom had put him in a real situation here. Did he feign disinterest in his new friends and continue to ignore his phone? Or did he fess up and tell Mom about Randal’s reappearance into their lives?

He rose from his seat carefully and moved toward his loft.

If he took enough time to get there, Randal would be forced to leave a message or hang up. Of course, that meant that Ted and his mother were sitting targets because Randal evidently knew everything about their new location and there was nothing that would get in his way of tracking them down. “Sure, Mom. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t hurry, Ted. I am going to make some popcorn, okay?”

The rhetorical cautions hung in the air as Ted clumped up the stairs to reach his phone just as the message indicator light was blinking. So, he didn’t have to talk to Randal just now, but there was obviously something his pal needed to tell him.

Ted listened to the message Randal had left. “Listen, man, I don’t know what is going on with you, but you need to get out of here. This place is bad news, Ted. Call me.”

The panic in Randal’s voice surprised Ted. He’d never known Randal to sound scared, even while being handcuffed and stuffed into the backseat of a squad car. Randal’s voice almost sounded mechanical in this message. Something had really, really spooked him.

69

11 A Second Round Of Church With the shadow of Randal Marks looming over him like a dark cloud, Ted barely made it through the school week without constantly looking over his shoulder.

Ted couldn’t remember the last full night of sleep he’d had.

After all the revelations of his conversation with his mother, he was surprised and even disappointed not to hear from his ghost.

Maybe he’d imagined her existence after all.

By the time Sunday rolled around again, he was anxious to see Grace. They hadn’t talked much during the week, and she seemed to know something about Randal. Ted didn’t know why he thought that. Couldn’t put a finger on it, but his intuition told him that this mystery was much bigger than he’d first thought.

Of course, Pastor Larry wouldn’t tell him anything. Ted was certain there was a pastor/congregant pact of secrecy that wouldn’t allow his minister to discuss matters that concerned other individuals without their permission. Ted wouldn’t expect anything else of such a respected profession. But Pastor Larry definitely knew something about Randal. Ted hoped that Grace could and would clear up the matter for him.

He also feared that Grace somehow knew something about his dark past. For some reason, since meeting Grace, Ted wanted to come across unsullied. His former need to be the tough guy, the intimidating hood, was softening, and he kind of liked the new him. Or was it the old him reborn? He really wasn’t certain.

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“Ted, slow down. We won’t be that late,” his mother admonished as he wolfed down the eggs she set in front of him.

She was right, but he really, really needed to catch Grace before the service or before she floated off to perform whatever church chore she had taken that morning. Without actually saying it, Grace was evidently one of the church greeters, and she took her responsibilities of greeting worshippers quite seriously.

He realized that last week had been a special occasion and that he and his mother would not be her prime focus this morning.

She would probably be drifting off to find another newcomer to welcome. Ted glanced up at his mother. “I know. Sorry.”

“You really seem anxious to get to church. Did you like it that much last week? It was interesting, to say the least. That Pastor Larry is definitely different. Not like the ministers I’m used to, but I thought maybe we could attend Grace Presbyterian this week. Shake things up a bit. We don’t have to settle on our home church before doing some shopping, right? You wouldn’t buy a car without test driving a few.”

No, no, no, no, no.

“I’ve heard nice things about the Presbyterian church. A lot of old-timers go there. Want to try it out?”

No, no, no, no, no.

Ted cleared his throat and forced words out of his mouth.

This can’t be happening. He had to go to Grace’s church. Not the one with her same name. “Maybe next week, Mom. I really want to give this one another try, okay?”

The church parking lot was filling up when Ted and Patsy approached the church lawn. It was a good thing they lived close enough to walk. A parking place might be difficult to find at this point.

Ted searched frantically for sight of Grace’s strawberry hair in the hospitality room, near the drink table, and even in the kitchen. But he didn’t see her anywhere. Not comfortable with the layout of the church, he didn’t want to take off on his own in fear of getting lost or ending up somewhere he didn’t belong.

Instead, he continued to scout out the room, not paying close attention to his mother’s whereabouts.

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So, when he felt the hand on his shoulder, Ted didn’t pay attention to the size of the palm resting there. It was probably his mother, he thought before turning around.

“Good morning, Ted. Good to see you here again.”

Ted was face to face with Jesus. Or at least the image of Jesus.

Pastor Larry looked a bit more professional this morning, wearing an actual necktie added to his white button-up. Even with the shirttails hanging loose, this adornment helped the pastor to appear more like the image of his profession.

Ted nervously smiled into the man’s face before remembering his manners and offering a hand in welcome. “Good morning, uh...”

“Pastor Larry is fine. If you’re looking for our Miss Grace, she’s upstairs in the sanctuary helping with today’s arrangements.

We’re having a combined service today with Grace Presbyterian, and there are some seating arrangements that need her attention.”

Pastor Larry smiled brightly. There was a strange shadow surrounding the pastor’s eyes. It looked like someone else had a sleepless night as well.

“Do you have a few minutes to chat with me after the festivities, Ted? I think we might have a few things to talk about.”

Even though the smile was still in place, Pastor Larry’s tone was markedly more serious than Ted liked.

Uh-oh. Something was up. What had Randal said about him?

A chill ran up Ted’s spine as his perfect world further crumbled to the ground.

“Uh, sure,” Ted uttered and tried to smile back.

“Oh, there you are, Ted. Good morning, Pastor!”

“Good Sunday morning, Mrs. Williams. So glad to see you again! You have quite a pleasant son. I appreciate him hanging around the church grounds after school to help watch over the young ones.”

Ted’s eyebrows wove together. He had no idea that he’d been babysitting while visiting with Grace and Nico, but if that was what the good pastor wanted to call it, he wasn’t going to argue.

“Enjoy the service, you two. We’ve got a big one today!”

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With Pastor Larry moving away from them to greet someone else, Patsy turned to her son and practically squealed. “How ironic is this, Ted? The church I mentioned visiting is having its service with this one today. So, we get to experience the best of both worlds. And Pastor Larry’s dad is the visiting minister! Isn’t that funny? It’s like a two-for-one sale.”

“Yes, Mom. That’s great.” Ted looked wildly around the room for an exit to get him upstairs to the main sanctuary. He had to talk to Grace. “Are you ready to go upstairs, Mom? We should probably find seats now since there are a lot of people here today.”

“Yes, yes, you are right.”

As they made their way toward the sanctuary, another hand landed on Ted’s shoulder from behind.

“Hey, Ted! Good to see you!” Nico Salvatore grinned and patted Ted affectionately on the shoulder.

Ted’s face must have registered his surprise, making Nico’s grin spread even broader, if that were possible.

“Hey, I need to get back upstairs. Grace is waiting for me.

I just came down to grab some paper towels from the kitchen.

Come with me. I’ll show you a shorter route. ” Ted indicated to his mother that he was going to follow Nico, and she nodded absently. It looked like she was making friends and was comfortable without him by her side for a few minutes.

“I don’t know why we don’t keep a package of these things on the stage. We’re always spilling stuff. Especially Grace. She can be such a klutz.” Nico laughed at his own joke and continued leading the way up a hidden set of stairs Ted probably wouldn’t have found on his own.

Nico’s remark was just a part of his sarcastic nature. Grace, a klutz? No. She represented every letter of her name. There was nothing klutzy about Grace.

“Anyway, wait ‘til you see the new sound system we got for this gig. Pastor Larry worked hard to get it for us. Since Grace Pres helped pay for it, he decided to wait until both churches had their annual mixer to use it. Grace Pres doesn’t allow amplifiers.

Something about caustic sound waves or something. I just think Pastor Larry’s dad is making excuses to gift his son’s church with something cool.”

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Ted anxiously followed Nico toward his destination, hoping upon hope that Grace would look more kindly toward him than she had yesterday. Something bigger than his dilemma with Randal was going on, and he meant to get to the bottom of it.

“Look who I found, Gracie! Just when we thought there were no more helping hands around. C’mere, Ted. Help me with this cable.”

Nico didn’t even wait for a reply from Grace nor a move from Ted. He chattered right through the awkward exchange between his two friends when their eyes met. Neither turned away from the gaze, but it was clear to Ted that Grace was not particularly happy about his arrival.

Nico tossed Grace the roll of paper towels and urged Ted to assist with the unraveling of twisted cable and wires attached to the soundboard at the back of the stage.

Ted repeatedly tried to claim Grace’s glance, but her attention was steadfast on her task at hand and she either refused or didn’t feel it important to give him the time of day.

With several attempts, Nico and Ted untangled the wires and adjusted the sound system to an acceptable volume. Then Nico sat down on one of the high-rise stools.

The boy could play just about any stringed instrument on the stage. He tested each one for clarity and volume adjustment.

After picking up two lead guitars, the bass guitar, and a banjo, Nico moved on to the stand-up bass resting against its giant stand at the center of the stage. He caressed the instrument as if it were a young child before plucking and pulling a few strings to deliver a rich, deep sound that filled the sanctuary with perfect pitch, sounding more like its cello relative than the bass fiddle it was better known as in this situation.

“Sounds good, Nico.” Jeremy, the praise team leader, said.

“Make sure everyone’s plugged in, and help me get the music stands in position.”

Like the good puppy he was, Nico completed his tasks and motioned Ted to the side.

“Can you stay back here in case I need anything? This is my first time on Sacred Sanctuary’s stage with this bass, and it’s a bit heavier than the one I usually play.”

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Before Ted could worry too much over the matter, the sound of worshippers entering the sanctuary thundered in his ears. This was going to be a really big service. Wall-to-wall congregants filled the sanctuary. Ted spied his mother making her way toward the middle of the church pews, arm-in-arm with an attractive woman he’d never seen before. They were smiling, and Patsy caught her son’s eye long enough to send him a wave.

And then the music began. Ted hadn’t even noticed the praise team members taking the stage until the first chords sounded like a major rock concert intro. Today, not only was praise team leader Jeremy onstage, but five additional musicians had claimed crowded space with the regular singers of Sacred Sanctuary.

“Welcome, sister churches! It’s good to see you this morning on this fifth annual joint service of The Church of Go!” With that, Jeremy’s guitar let out a joyous squeal and the music began in earnest.

For nearly twenty minutes, the joined singers of both churches filled the air with songs of worship still alien to Ted’s ears, but full of infectious joy and praise.

As he looked around the large auditorium, he didn’t doubt the massive amount of love shared by these churchgoers. Why had his parents never talked to him about this? This unquestionable existence of joy? Did they even know about it?

Finally, Pastor Larry greeted the congregation briefly and then turned over the reins to an older version of himself.

The pastors made quite a pair. It was obvious that Larry Hawkins had nothing but uncensored respect for the elderly minister. Where Larry didn’t advertise his trade, his father looked the part in his long, flowing robe and stance of authority.

As it became more obvious that Pastor Hawkins, Senior, would be the presenter of today’s scripture lesson. Then, Ted listened intently as the elderly pastor described the creation of Sacred Sanctuary.

Sacred Sanctuary was started several years ago when Pastor Larry decided to leave his family church of Grace Presbyterian and start his own place of worship. A lifelong Christian, he had no arguments with the faith, but realized the younger congregants 75

The Day Ted Williams Came to Town

were getting lost in the traditional method of spreading God’s message. He wanted to make church more kid-friendly, the older pastor said.

The older Pastor Hawkins had no problem with his son doing exactly that—once he earned his appropriate degrees and established the need for such a congregation. Sacred Sanctuary was funded through a series of grant monies sponsored by various church affiliates. Today marked the fifth-year anniversary of Pastor Larry’s creation of the Church of Go—nicknamed such as a reminder that God is everywhere, even when church signs lose some of their letters. It was laughable, but prophetic. So Larry made it his goal to create a place that teens and youngsters yearned to GO. “What’s he talking about?” Ted whispered in Nico’s direction.

Nico pulled Ted further back into the shadows of backstage and told the story of Pastor Larry finding an abandoned country Church of God when he was attending seminary. The letter d had fallen off the church sign, creating the identity of Church of Go. Larry Hawkins couldn’t shake the message and made it a goal to share the inspiration of sharing this simple message of Go. Go to God. After the service, Ted again tried to get Grace’s attention, but she adamantly managed to ignore him. What had he done to her?

Randal’s abrupt appearance wasn’t his fault, but she had no way of knowing how Ted’s life had changed since moving to Ellison and meeting her. He didn’t want her to think he was anything like Randal.

Randal was a god in the old neighborhood, but nothing but glorified hood in quiet-town Ellison.

“Ted! Wait up!” Pastor Larry waved frantically from the back of the church at Ted. Ted allowed the church to empty before making his way toward the back of the room to meet with Pastor Larry. He was unnerved to see his mother standing beside the Jesus man and immediately felt nervous that she knew something he didn’t.

Had they been talking about Randal? Did his mother know he’d been in Ellison?

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“Sweetheart, Pastor tells me that the two of you have plans, so I’m going to head on home. Stay as long as you want and we’ll put together some sandwiches later. Is that okay?”

Surprisingly she didn’t even wait for his reply before bidding the pastor farewell and stepping out the door into the fall sunshine. She didn’t appear to be concerned about this meeting with the pastor—and her face was an easy read. So, evidently, she knew nothing about Randal’s visit.

A sigh of relief bubbled up into his throat.

“So, you know Randal Marks?” Pastor Larry asked, abruptly stopping Ted’s relief. “I have to say I’m a bit surprised, Ted. Randal doesn’t have a good reputation. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, but he has agreed that improvements can be made.” Pastor talked as he directed Ted down the hall steps toward his private office. “Not only am I surprised to discover your relationship with Mr. Marks, I am even more surprised to see him in Ellison. Or anywhere else, for that matter. It was my understanding that Randal had another six months to complete his jail sentence. In fact, I heard that fact straight from the horse’s mouth just last week.”

“How do you know Randal?” Ted couldn’t help it. His need to know startled the question from him.

“The men’s ministry here in Ellison has a group of individuals who visit the prison once a month. We take home-baked cookies and visit with the inmates as part of the rehabilitation program through the district mission plan. My dad and I have been going for years. It’s a really good program, and we have actually created a few converts. I was hoping that Randal might be one, but his attitude needs a little fine-tuning. And I think that’s something you can help with. Come on in and have a seat. I recommend the recliner. It seems to be a favorite.”

He didn’t want to break the pastor’s reverie, but he had a horse in this race and he needed to be heard.

“So, Randal isn’t supposed to be out of jail? Are you saying he escaped?”

Even for Randal, no-holes-bared, extreme sports enthusiast, this was just a bit too much to believe.

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“Yes, Ted, Randal is now an escapee. For one afternoon, he added that title to his resume. I think he came here to find you because of some sort of plan the two of you had before his incarceration.

That is my concern, Ted. We here in Ellison have become rather fond of you. We’d hate to see you go, especially into the life Randal Marks has chosen. Your mother has become very dear to the women in the community, and we don’t want to see her hurt.

If nothing else, Ted, give some thought to her.”

Ted blinked. And blinked again.

If what Pastor Larry was saying were true—and why wouldn’t it be? He worked for the Big Man—Randal was now more than a common street thief. He was an escaped convict.

That made his situation much more dramatic, which Ted was sure Randal loved—if he could get away with it. It also made things a lot more serious.

“Does she know? Does my mother know that Randal was here? That he is out of prison?” Ted was shaking now. His palms were moist and his breath shallow. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I don’t know what your mother knows, Ted. I haven’t said anything to her. This is something that must come from you. I didn’t want to talk to you to ‘preach,’” Pastor said and grinned at his own irony. “I just needed to touch base with you and find out how you’re doing. Are you okay? I’m just concerned, Ted. I like you. The church families like you. Nico and Grace certainly like you. This is your opportunity to make good choices.”

At the mention of Grace’s name, Ted’s ears rose another inch.

“Does—does she know? Does Grace know about all of this?

Does she know about me?”

Pastor looked thoughtfully at Ted in a manner a parent uses when patronizing a wayward child. No matter what plan he and Randal had concocted before this time, Pastor had discovered Ted’s Achilles’ heel. The girl. Of course, it was all about a girl.

And not just any girl. Grace.

“Grace knew Randal Marks was trouble from the second she set eyes on him. She knew exactly who he was as soon as you 78

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introduced him. Among Grace’s many talents and services to this church, Grace also volunteers many hours in the church office, answering the phone, sorting mail, and organizing the men’s prison cookies ministry. She recognized Randal’s name from a recent list of inmates she typed for me. Even though I recognized him immediately, Grace was hot on the trail of making me aware of the visitation.” Pastor smiled again at Ted in that weird, parental way. He looked almost wistful.

“She’s a good girl, Ted, and a very loyal friend. You are lucky to have her in your court.”

But do I? Ted wondered. Could she forgive his checkered past?

“Just talk to her, Ted.” Was the pastor reading his mind?

“Grace doesn’t judge, but she does deserve an explanation.”

Ted did his best to absorb the pastor’s words. He had to admit that he felt strangely absolved. But he still worried about Randal’s part in all this. Would he try to contact Ted again? Would he come back to Ellison and make a scene? Ted remembered the way Randal looked at Grace. The way he touched her in that familiar creepy manner that was so Randal. This was not all about him anymore. Ted had to look out for these wonderfully kind people in his new life.

“Things will be okay, Ted. You don’t need to worry about Randal anymore, or at least for the next year or so.” How did he do that? It was as if Pastor Larry was connected to Ted’s brain.

“I contacted the authorities as soon as I saw your buddy.

They met us at the back entrance of the church. That’s the beauty of technology. As soon as I saw Randal, I pressed the 911 alert app on my cell phone and was talking to them as Randal and I left the sanctuary. He didn’t have a chance of escaping again, and he knew it.”

As Ted absorbed the pastor’s words, he struggled with his next plan of action. He had to tell Mom. At least, now she wouldn’t need to worry about Randal coming back into Ted’s life.

“In a way, Ted, you have been an accessory to solving a crime.

I’m sure that action will not go unnoticed. Congratulations, my man.”

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Ted rose at the obvious words of dismissal, but was brought to a halt at the office door.

“Hey, Ted, come back and talk to me anytime. Maybe after the smoke has cleared, you might want to join this prison ministry. It really is heartwarming.”

“No, thanks, Pastor Larry. I don’t think I ever want to see Randal again.”

Pastor Larry chuckled and approached Ted for a hug. “That’s fine, Ted. That ministry isn’t for everyone. We’ll find you a place to land, if you like.”

That was when Ted realized he had already landed.

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12 It’s A Redheaded Thing “I’ve already told you about the fear that we will become extinct in the not-so-distant future, but at least there is some encouraging news from the experts in England. Listen to this: ‘The story of redhead extinction has gone around the Internet before, most recently in 2005, with studies again citing the Oxford Hair Foundation as a source. These articles work on the mistaken assumption that recessive genes—like the one for red hair—can die out. Recessive genes can become rare, but don’t disappear completely unless everyone carrying that gene dies or fails to reproduce.’” Nico read directly from his latest collection of red-head statistics.

Ted did his best to listen, but his eyes kept darting wildly around the slightly chilly lawn of Sacred Sanctuary. Autumn was in full bloom, making the ground decidedly cooler than last week. Soon the morning dews would turn to frost and the ground was already preparing for the change in temperature. Ted wanted to suggest a move to the pavilion picnic tables, but didn’t want to interrupt his friend’s monologue.

“Oh, and get this. This is good news, not that I am particularly concerned about it right now, but it’s encouraging for my future.

Males with red hair are less likely to develop prostate cancer.” Nico looked intently at Ted, face askew in a perplexed concentration.

“Where exactly is the prostate, Ted? And why are only men concerned with it? Do women have a prostate?”

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“It’s a gland, you doofus, and it’s solely male property. Women have other things to worry about.” Grace stood above them, dressed in blue jeans and a lovely sage green sweater.

Ted broke out into a relieved smile of welcome. Grace was also smiling, but at Nico. She hadn’t directed attention on Ted at all. It was as if he weren’t there.

“Like what, Grace? What do women have to worry about that men do not? I really don’t understand how our bodies can be that different.”

Grace kept her gaze firmly on Nico and allowed a moment or two to elapse before responding. “Really, Nico Salvatore? Do you really know so little about the human anatomy? We are seniors in high school. Your mother hasn’t had the birds and bees talk with you yet?”

Nico’s blush nearly matched the color of his hair. “It’s not that, Grace, and you know it. I, uh . . . .”

“I, uh, what, Nico? Sorry, pal, I’m not buying it, and it’s just too cold to sit on the ground. C’mon, Ted, help me get this blanket folded and let’s go to the pavilion.” Although she had still not looked him in the eye, Ted felt warmer knowing she was not totally dissing him.

As Ted helped Grace fold the blanket, Nico gathered their belongings, looking every bit like a chastised puppy.

Ted would’ve felt sorry for him, but he was more focused on the movements of Grace. Body language said a lot about people, and he was on alert for any abnormalities in Grace’s posture and physical attitude. Had she forgiven him?

“So, I have been researching area ghost lore, and I think there may be a direct link between your attic spirit and some of what Dr. Musick published,” Grace said. “First of all, did you guys know about the ghost of Coffin Hollow? It’s supposed to appear very near here.”

“Of course we know about Coffin Hollow, Grace. We read about it in sixth grade. That’s nothing new.” Nico sniffled as he tagged along behind Ted and Grace to reach the picnic tables. At least he wasn’t going to sulk for long. The change in conversation seemed to have brought him out of his funk—at least for now.

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When Ted didn’t offer his own commentary, Grace looked directly at him for the first time.

“You know the story, don’t you?”

“I think someone mentioned it along the way,” he answered and quickly searched his brain for any recollection of the stories that Grace had mentioned before.

“Anyway,” Graced continued. “I never really thought about the location of your house or who lived there before. What did your parents know about that house?”

“We live in the same house all my relatives have lived in since it was built. When my dad’s mom passed away, he inherited the house and originally planned to rent it out or sell it. But my mother went ballistic over the idea. She insisted that we keep the property. Her plan was to eventually get out of the city and move here. That opportunity just never arose until, well, until . . . .”

“We don’t need to get into that right now. Water under the bridge.” Grace hurriedly avoided any mention of Randal Marks, telling Ted that she certainly knew most, if not all, the story.

And then she continued as though nothing were said. “So, your grandparents and great-grandparents lived in that house? Wow. No wonder there are spirits floating around. So cool.”

The admiration in Grace’s voice surprised Ted. Wasn’t she supposed to be some big Christian? Did Christians believe in ghosts?

“So, this spirit that keeps talking to you and showing you stuff in the attic could be a relative. A relative with unresolved issues. We need to try talking to her again.”

“You’re not talking about having one of those weird séance things, are you? Do you really believe in that?” Nico asked.

“No, not a séance. There will be no Ouija boards or candle burning. That’s just too weird and against the teaching of God. I think we just need to spend time with her. So far, she’s not created any drama or been scary or anything, right?”

“I think it’s pretty scary that she talks to Ted at all. That’s pretty scary,” Nico piped up.

“Maybe so, but she hasn’t done him any harm. And I think it’s weird that Ted has only felt her in the attic. She hasn’t appeared in any other room, right?” Grace persisted.

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Ted thought about this for a long moment before admitting, “Well, I haven’t really spent a lot of time anywhere else in the house. Not alone, anyway. My mom is almost always in the same room with me, and she only comes halfway up the stairs to the attic to call for me.”

“Why, Ted? Why does she not come all the way up the stairs?

Has she mentioned a cold chill or any weird feelings about the attic?”

What was Grace getting at? “She just doesn’t like stairs, I guess?” Even to Ted’s ears, this explanation sounded lame, but he had no other reason to give. He didn’t know why his mother didn’t come to his room. Was she afraid to invade his private space? Or was she afraid of what she might find in his room? A total teenage mess? Drugs? Pornography?

No. Ted quickly recovered his thoughts. He really believed his mother trusted him and believed in his earnest attempt to keep his nose clean.

“I just think she’s giving me space.” And with that, Ted agreed with himself. It had been a rough year. His entire family needed space, personal and private space. With his father away, some of them required more exaggerated space than others.

“So, what if your ghost is a long-lost relative looking for some sort of closure? Why else would she lead you to that dresser drawer? What is it she wants you to find, Ted?” That’s when Ted realized he hadn’t told his friends about the letter in the wallet. They didn’t know about his family’s obsession with Ted Williams. Randal had worked his distractive magic on that by coming to town the same day as his story session with his mom.

He needed to bring them up to speed, and he could think of no better place to do so than in his attic room. They could turn the party of three into a gathering of four. If his ghost was listening, that was.

The three of them quickly scrambled to organize themselves for the short walk to Ted’s house. He was unsure how his mother would react to this impromptu visit. She seemed to like his choice of companions. Knowing his mother, she would probably bake a cake as soon as they entered the door.

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And he was right. Patsy Williams embraced Grace and Nico into her home as if they were royalty. She didn’t complain when they all excused themselves to Ted’s attic on the pretense of school work. The promise of fresh brownies followed them up the stairs.

He hadn’t mentioned to Patsy the strange occurrences happening in his room. Actually, since their conversation Friday night, all had been quiet in the attic. Ted hadn’t felt that sensation of not being alone. It was as if just opening up to his mother and listening to his great-grandfather’s story was enough to appease whoever, whatever, resided in the attic.

But he wasn’t comfortable with unanswered questions. He needed to know more about Ted Williams. If he mentioned this to Grace, he was sure she would associate some kind of psychic anomaly between the Ted Williams of baseball fame and Ted Williams the new person. He wasn’t excited about that kind of heavy psychological evaluation.

“First things first,” Ted announced as soon as the three of them reached the attic. “I need to read something to you.”

He retrieved the worn letter, spread it carefully and began to read.

Both Nico and Grace listened attentively to the story of the day baseball great Ted Williams came to Ellison many years before.

“And I think this ball,” Ted picked up the old Rawlings, “was hit by Ted Williams.”

Nico emitted a tiny sound of worship as he gazed at the ball.

“It just sailed through the window? Right into the attic? And it’s signed by THE Ted Williams?” Nico repeated the brief story Ted told following the reading of the mysterious story. “Ted Williams.”

“I know. It’s crazy.” Ted paused. “And then there’s this bat.” He presented the Louisville Slugger to Nico.

Nico slid to the floor, clutching the ball in one hand and holding the Louisville Slugger reverently to his chest.

Ted and Grace looked on anxiously until Grace broke the silence. “He’ll be okay. We won’t worry until he starts singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game.’” She crossed the room and lightly traced her fingers across the dust-free dresser top.

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“How long was this house empty before you moved here, Ted? Who took care of it until then?” She turned to face him.

“Your mom mentioned there wasn’t much cleaning to do because Martha was such an excellent housekeeper, but wasn’t Martha your great-grandmother? She’s been dead for years, Ted.” Grace raised her eyebrows, rotating her sight around the room. “Who cleaned the house, Ted, while it sat empty all this time?”

A ghostly giggle rang in his ears. Ted shivered.

“I think we’ve solved your mystery, Ted. Martha has been here all the time, waiting for Ted Williams to return to Ellison.”

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13 The Postman Ringeth Two weeks passed without much of anything remarkable to report, and Ted was getting anxious about Grace’s revelation.

She talked to him at school when spoken to and was nothing but friendly, but Ted sensed reluctance on her part to bond any closer. They waved at church and weren’t cold to one another, but there was a wall between them that hadn’t been there before.

He awoke to an uncomfortable chill in his room on his first holiday from school since it had begun. At one time, he would’ve looked forward to a free day of uninterrupted video games. He hadn’t checked in with his gaming groups for weeks. His mother would probably want to spend the day together since it was a Teacher Work Day and he didn’t have school. He guessed that would be okay.

The Gaming World dismissed, Ted shrugged into his new Ellison High School sweatshirt before seeking out breakfast.

What he found was a surprise.

Beside his place setting, Ted found not one, not two, but three envelopes addressed to him. It was rare in this time and age to actually receive written correspondence via snail mail, and he was intrigued by the existence of three letters addressed to him.

“Sorry, honey.” His mother glanced from the stovetop in mid-pancake flip as he sat down. “I meant to give those to you yesterday, but I forgot.”

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The last envelope in the pile was written in his father’s hand, causing a tingly apprehension starting at the tips of his fingers when they came in contact with the expensive parchment. Leave it to his father to only use the best writing stationary.

“One of them is from Dad,” Ted said aloud.

“I saw that. You’ll have to read that one out loud so we can both hear his news while I finish frying this bacon.” Patsy Williams said softly, pleased that Bobby had made Ted an active part of what she knew had been an upsetting move for her son.

“Where is he, Mom? Where is Dad? When is he coming back? Is he coming back?” There. He’d said it. The questions that had privately plagued him since Bobby had left them here three months ago.

“He’s in Boston, Ted. On business. You know that.”

Ted looked closely at his mother and spied a tear threatening to escape her left eye.

“Who are the other letters from?” she asked.

Ted inspected the handwriting and mail codes. The envelopes didn’t look like junk mail and one was obviously sent from the regional prison. His mother had no doubt seen the return address, so there was no reason to hide Randal’s letter. Ted shuddered as he opened that one next.

“Let’s find out,” he said and used his butter knife to slit open the thin white envelope. His fathers could wait.

Hey, buddy.

Sorry about the confusion I evidently caused in your new hometown. I just wanted to see you. AND, I was curious what it took to break jail. Ha-ha. Who would have guessed that Pastor Jesus was a friend of yours? Really, Ted. Are you going to church now? Good cover, buddy. Keep ‘em guessing.

You’ll be fine. I will, too, once I complete this bodunk sentencing. At least the Jesus pastor was good for something.

He encouraged me to write to you.

Well, no, he actually TOLD me to write and apologize.

You know I don’t do well with taking orders, but this made 88

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sense. Write me back, okay? This place is a real drag. Not much action with most of the losers here trying to stay on the straight and narrow. They don’t even watch good television.

Stay cool, Randal Ted must have gone a bit pale because his mother covered his hand with her own and asked with great concern if he were all right. Ted knew it was time to fess up. There was no other way to explain his mysterious mail.

“It’s from Randal, Mom.” His mother tensed.

“There’s something I need to tell you. Randal was here. Not in this house, but in Ellison. He came to the churchyard a couple of weeks ago and surprised the heck out of me.”

“Oh, Ted, no. I thought we were through with that. You cannot stay in contact with him. Please tell me that isn’t going to happen.”

Before her anxiety got the best of her, Ted rushed to finish his story.

“No, Mom, that isn’t happening. It was all a big mistake. I thought he was released, but when Pastor Larry saw him—” “Pastor Larry saw Randal here? He saw him with you?”

“Yes, Mom. Please, calm down. It was a good thing that Pastor saw him. If he hadn’t, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Ted remembered the way Randal looked at Grace and the mean things he said to Nico.

Ted explained the men’s group that Pastor Larry belonged to and what he’d done when he recognized Randal as an escapee.

Without Pastor’s involvement, Randal would still be running the streets and probably begging Ted to join him. He didn’t mention that last part to his mother, but he was aware of the possibility.

“It’s all fine now. Randal is back where he’s supposed to be.

He just wrote to me under Pastor’s advisement. It’s an apology for embarrassing me in front of my new friends. We’re not going to be pen pals or anything like that, but I think I should answer with a postcard or something. You have nothing to worry about.”

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The tension on his mother’s face seemed to lessen a little with Ted’s words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it. I really am, Mom. I guess I just wanted to forget it. That it would go away.”

Patsy looked lovingly into her son’s face.

“Let’s read your dad’s letter and see what he has to tell us. I’m going to warn you, though. It’s my turn to ask for forgiveness.

I haven’t been totally honest with you, either, and I hope you understand after we read this.”

Ted’s heart rate sped up with these words. So there was something going on, something that may change the very reason for their existence. Something that he didn’t want to hear. It was almost as if his father had passed on and Ted hadn’t had the chance to make things right with him. He felt guilty for all the negative things he’d felt about his dad.

“Mom, it’s okay. Don’t sugar-coat it for me. Are you and Dad getting a divorce?”

His mother smothered her surprise but only partially. Her bottom lip quivered, but the tears didn’t come as strength found its way into her words. “No, Ted, we are not divorcing. That is the furthest thing from our minds. That isn’t what I withheld from you.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“No, that isn’t the issue at all. Your dad is actually not in Boston right now. That is where he was, but he flew to London yesterday to finalize some business that needs his attention before he can leave the city to come here.”

London? His father was in London? That explained the strange postage stamp. Ted couldn’t imagine anything more exciting than traveling abroad.

“This letter should tell us what the next step is and when he’ll be home. And what his job will be when he gets here. Ted, your dad loves you very much, and this whole Randal ordeal really directed his thoughts to your welfare and what his role as a father really means. He gave up a lot to be where he is today. He has big hopes for you, his son. When you got into the trouble with Randal, it nearly destroyed him. He felt he was failing miserably.

He sacrificed his time with you to make enough money to secure 90

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our financial well-being, but never once gave a thought as to how that would affect you—or me. Once he closes this deal in London, life will definitely be different. We can attempt to be a normal family. I know and he knows it comes a bit late, but not too late. He thought he was doing the right thing for your future.”

Patsy was now crying in earnest and without pause. Ted moved around the table to engulf her in his arms. He hadn’t done such a thing in a long, long time and it felt good. This was his mother. She was his entire world. If she was good with his dad’s plan, Ted would trust her.

In expected Mom-fashion, Patsy pulled herself together and smiled at Ted. “Okay, Teddy,” she winked at his startled expression, “let’s look at your other fan letter.”

Pausing to sip his fresh-squeezed orange juice, Ted grinned and hurriedly tore open the mystery letter. He didn’t recognize the handwriting at all, but as the writer’s identity became clear, Ted excused himself to read in his room.

Dear Ted, After reading the letter you found in your attic, I have spent many hours thinking about the words your relative wrote. s His most precious memory of childhood was the day Ted Williams came to town. I think this is a beautiful sentiment and a powerful statement.

The day Ted Williams came to town sounds like a book title or a bestselling song title. It’s a mantra. It’s a goal to be achieved. It’s the crowning moment in this young man’s history. It’s almost like a new beginning.

And, you, Ted Williams, exemplify exactly what that sentiment reflects.

The day you, Ted Williams, came to Ellison, things changed for me. I think I met a soul mate. And that soul mate does not belong in jail. He does not cavort with the likes of Randal Marks. My Ted Williams saves the Randal Marks of the world. And I think you can play an important part in the salvation of Randal Marks. I’m not saying you are to convert him to Christianity or turn his life around, 91

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but you obviously have a power over him that you can use to your advantage. I believe all things happen for a reason.

You are a good person, Ted Williams. I believe you came to Ellison for a reason. You have a purpose. Just like when the ball player visited here years ago, the universe shifted a bit when you came to town. It’s not our job to question the purpose; it’s God’s plan for us to use the event.

Thank you for allowing me to be your friend. Thank you for tolerating Nico’s aggravating banter. He really looks up to you. I guess you represent enough of the bad dude to make him feel more human. But Nico is innocent in many ways and does not need to be exposed to the Randal Marks of the world, even if that is reality.

I know Nico gets a little crazy with all of his talk about the redhead extinction, but I believe this obsession is a result of the possibilities of our fate. He’s not crazy and he doesn’t really think his lifespan is doomed, but this is his survival technique. And, you have to admit, it’s rather cute.

He might come across as kinda weak, but when push comes to shove, Nico is strong in his faith and one of the most loyal friends you’ll meet. Besides, since he’s my cousin, I can’t disown him.

Anyway, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent of explanations about Ellison and our community members.

That isn’t the issue.

The issue is, Ted, that your ancestor’s words, whoever that ancestor may or may not be, have really stuck with me. I believe they had a stronger meaning than a child’s exultation over meeting a hero. I really believe that your life is changing since you, Ted Williams, came to town. I know my life has taken a strange turn. And I thank you for that.

So, in closing, I just want you to know that I am not angry with you. I do not hold your relationship with Randal Marks against you. You are who you are as a result of that. God planned this. There is a reason.

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I like you, Ted Williams. I’m glad you chose to be my friend.

It’s time to move forward, though, and leave the city life behind. Embrace Ellison because we certainly are embracing you. Whatever you’re going through, we (I) are here for you.

Yours, Grace PS Oh, get an e-mail address! We may be Hicksville in Ellison, but we are part of the 21st century!

Ted grinned at Grace’s closing remarks.

So, she wasn’t angry with him. Her “cold shoulder” hadn’t been intentional. He just needed to step up to the plate and do his part in this friendship.

CRACK! Ted nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden sharp sound that came from the little window near the head of his bed. He swung around to see a gaping hole in the center of the glass.

What the hell?

As he set aside Grace’s letter and rose from his desk chair, his eyes spotted the culprit before he even reached the window.

“Ted, what was that? Is everything okay?” his mother called up the attic steps.

“Yeah, Mom. It’s good!”

But was it?

On the floor under the now ruined window, amid shattered debris of glass, was a worn, dingy baseball.

An urgent look out the window—with Ted being mindful of avoiding the glass shards—told him the culprit was not within range. In fact, he saw no one on the lawn or the sidewalk outside.

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14 The Redhead Concern Continues “Even though redheads are more likely to develop skin cancer, we do absorb more vitamin D from the sun than any other hair color. That is encouraging. Drink more milk, friends!

Catch up with me!”

It was rare they were all together for lunch. Their schedules were so different, even though it was a small school and they were all three seniors. Ted and Grace were enrolled in advance placement courses, but Nico was a rare breed of intellect. He traveled to the University for morning classes as part of his gifted education. Ted had learned that Nico Salvatore was a genius, a certified genius. His IQ was unlike anything any student at EHS had ever exhibited.

The majority of students in Ellison were average, ruining Ted’s initial theory that the town was perfection consisting of perfectly perfect members of all ages. Other than being the site of a terrorist attack, Ellison was just a town. A town that strived to be as good as it could be.

“Oh, geesh, Nico. Is this what they encourage you to study at that big fine university? Surely there is something else you can research.” Grace plopped down between the two guys, taking her normal position as matriarch of the lunch bunch. “What about Shakespeare? Or anatomy? Or quantum physics? Surely there has to be something else to talk about.”

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The exasperation in Grace’s voice was rather daunting, but Nico took it all in stride, wiping off her comment like an unnecessary piece of lint. “Oh, you’re just jealous, Gracie.

Although you, too, are a member of the red-headed race, you don’t seem to see this extinction process as important. You really need to get on board while you can before we’re all gone, leaving you all alone in this world without red. Do you have any idea just how boring that will be?” Nico clucked like a scolding hen before biting into his ham sandwich. “You need to get used to it—my ranting. Second semester at the university doesn’t begin until the end of January, so that means you guys are stuck with me a whole month,” he said between chews.

When the university was not in session, Nico came back to the folds of EHS to complete the mandatory high school requirements for graduation. Just because he was enrolled in college, he still had to officially complete high school, according to state mandates.

Grace good-naturedly snorted in Nico’s direction but responded to Ted instead. “So, what do you think this baseball thing is all about? It had to be some kid who didn’t want to own up to his actions. You didn’t see anyone?”

Ted shook his head vigorously. After relaying the events of the mysterious baseball, Ted knew that Grace would explore all the identical options that had rolled around in his head yesterday.

His mother accepted the explanation of a misdirected baseball and actually came upstairs to help him clean up the mess. They erected a cardboard shield to cover the hole until a professional could come to install a new window. At least with autumn in full hilt and winter approaching, there was little need to open the window, but Ted still liked the freedom to do just that when he wanted.

“Do you think this has anything to do with your greatgrandfather and Ted Williams?” Grace asked.

Nico and Ted stared unabashedly at Grace. What could she possibly be talking about? Did Grace really believe in ghosts?

Ted just couldn’t comprehend how Grace could be so openly religious, believe in God, work so ferociously at the church, and still entertain the idea of Ted’s house being haunted.

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As if reading his mind, Grace continued, “I do not mean your house is haunted, Ted, but I really do believe there are forces out there beyond our earthly understanding. I am not so naïve to think that God gave humans a brain that refuses to explore possibilities. Even Jesus dispelled demons during His time on Earth. And there is definitely a possibility that you have a spirit in your attic. Maybe your entire house—if you took the time to look for clues.”

Ted shook his head in exasperation.

“What more have you found out about your family and Ted Williams? What is the connection?” Grace took a second to swallow the last of her PB and J before referring to their only concrete piece of evidence. “So, it was a big day, a huge event for your grandfather. I can understand that. Kinda like Christmas morning and you discover that Santa ate all his cookies and the reindeer took the carrots you left the night before. That kind of thing.”

Nico and Ted nodded in agreement, urging their gal to come up with the answers.

“It’s a moment. A TWM.” Grace announced.

Nico and Ted exchanged looks of confusion. A TWM? “You know. A Ted Williams Moment. That’s what we will call it from now on. A big event. A first kiss. Getting your driver’s license. A tooth fairy visit. The day a sports hero comes to town.

Any life-altering event.” Grace took a breath before continuing.

“Shoot, Ted, even the day you moved to Ellison is a TWM literally and figuratively.”

“So, what does this have to do with Ted’s ghost?” Nico put down his half-eaten sandwich.

“I think the spirit hanging around in the attic is Ted’s greatgrandmother.” Grace looked at Ted. “Didn’t your mother say she had a crush on him?”

Grace twirled a length of her hair around a finger while gazing dreamily at the ceiling. “It’s really rather romantic.”

Nico and Ted stared dumbfounded at her until Nico found his voice. “What are you talking about?! Why are you turning this into a romance novel?”

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“And, why me?” Ted asked. “Why is this so-called spirit picking on me?”

“You are not being picked on, Ted. I just think there is a purpose.” Grace looked pointedly at Ted, clearing her table space of soiled paper napkins. “There is a reason for everything. God puts it out there for us. It’s up to us to make it work. Psalm 57:2 says, ‘I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.’ You are here for a reason. Baseball Ted Williams visited Ellison years ago for a reason. There is a reason why you don’t feel this spirit anywhere else in the house. It may very well be that this has something to do with the attic. Has there always been a bedroom there? You need to ask your mother some more questions. When is your dad coming home? I bet he could help us.”

“Dad is overseas right now,” Ted said.

“Can you call him? I bet he has some answers, Ted. We’re talking about this own father and grandfather. I’m sure he’s heard plenty of stories from them. Let’s call him.”

Ted slowly shook his head back and forth pendulum style, not meeting the eyes of neither Grace nor Nico. Even though his dad had reached out to him recently via snail mail, not once had his dad requested to speak to him during his bi-weekly calls home.

“I don’t think he would know anything. I’m not sure Dad was very close to his family.”

He knew it sounded lame, and actually, his words were far from the truth, but he really didn’t want to get into it all with Grace and Nico.

He couldn’t get the conversation off his mind after school and spent more time than normal downstairs with his mother after dinner, watching the news and listening to her description of the beauty shop she had visited that afternoon. Part of him wanted the spirit to make an appearance right there in the living room in front of his mother. Maybe knock over a lamp or make a weird noise to draw attention to the fact that something really weird was living in the house with them. That would definitely be a story starter.

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Since Patsy had evidently forgotten to continue the story of the baseball legend arriving in Ellison, Ted desperately needed his ghost to fill in the gaps.

But nothing more exciting happened than their participation in the Jeopardy game show on television.

Before heading upstairs for the night, Ted was inspired with a question that may have been encouraged by the Jeopardy game.

“Mom, are we related to Ted Williams, the baseball player?”

She thought for a moment or two before addressing her son.

“I don’t think so, honey. That’s something to ask your dad.”

That seemed to be a recurring issue.

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15 Recurring Themes When he got home from school the next day, there was a strange van parked in front of the house. Home Window Repair was stenciled across the broadside of the vehicle.

Ted entered the front door and followed the sound of talking up to the attic.

His mother was holding a hammer and peering in close to look at something in the repairman’s hand.

The baseball! Ted had forgotten about placing it on his desk.

What was so fascinating that it had his mother and the repairman staring so intently at it? It was just a baseball.

“What’s going on?” Ted asked, startling his mother and their guest.

“This ball is really, really old, Ted.” “It’s just a baseball.”

The repairman took another very long, very intense look at the ball in his hand before replying.

“Yes, it’s a baseball, but it’s also an antique. It’s definitely a collector’s item. Look at how the laces are worn. And, if I’m not mistaken, this faded ink is a signature. I always wanted to be that guy in the stands who happened to be in the right place at the right time. If it isn’t worth some money, it’s at least of sentimental value to someone. You might want to contact a collector and have it checked out.”

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His mother nodded her head in dismay. “We could put an ad in the paper. I would hate to think of someone losing something so dear. There are probably old memories attached to this.”

“You’re probably right, ma’am. Put it away for safekeeping until you can find its owner. This is probably important to someone.” The repairman pointed to the faded writing on one side of the ball. “It’s autographed. I’m no collector, but this could be worth some money.”

The repairman took another close look at the Rawlings insignia and faint scrawl of cursive before placing it on Ted’s bed and returning to the final touches of installing the new window.

After dinner that night, while Patsy busied herself writing an ad for the paper, Ted decided to do some research. He knew it was irrational, but something kept scratching at the back of his brain. He dreamed about catching a home run ball and then one flies through his bedroom window? An old ball and autographed at that. The ink had faded to resemble pencil lead, forcing the naked eye to squint. If he concentrated enough, Ted could convince himself that the first letter was a T, but he wasn’t certain. Was he holding a ball autographed by baseball-great Ted Williams?

“That would be crazy,” he whispered, not surprised to hear an audible harrumph near his left ear. He sat stone still waiting for more commentary from his invisible roommate. When none came, Ted glanced at the impressive stack of his dad’s baseball memorabilia Patsy had unpacked. First, he decided to Google his namesake.

Theodore Samuel Williams (August 30, 1918 – July 5, 2002) was an American professional baseball player and manager. He played his entire 19-year Major League Baseball (MLB) career as a left fielder for the Sox from 1939–1942 and 1946–1960.

Nicknamed «The Kid,” “The Splendid Splinter,” “Teddy Ballgame,” “The Thumper,” and “The Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived,” Williams is regarded as one of the greatest hitters in baseball history.

“This is interesting, but it sounds so textbook. I want to know more about him. What made Ted Williams click?” Ted said out loud, picking up a dog-eared paperback on top of a stack of baseball price guides.

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No, Ted. Not that one. Here.

A different book slid off the stake onto the floor, falling open to the first page. Ted picked it up, glanced at the opening sentence and was hooked.

When the alarm clock sounded hours later, Ted peeled his face from glossy page 95 of My Turn at Bat, Ted Williams’s autobiography. A quick survey of his backpack reminded him of a math test today, but the only numbers running through his head were baseball statistics.

“Oh, man, I really messed up! What a waste of time.”

It will be fine, Ted. This wasn’t a waste of time. You’ll see.

What he saw, though, was a replay of his great grandfather’s story. He allowed the story to unfold in his mind’s eye as he remembered the dream from which he’d just awoke.

A very young child, standing beside an elderly man in right field. The crowd was rowdy and patriotism lit the air. The bottom of the ninth, with two strikes and bases loaded. Anything could happen.

As the batter wound up and looked imploringly to the heavens, the pitch came in slow and steady. Ted Williams reared back his bat and crack! Just like in that famous poem, the fans went wild, but in this, the famous Casey didn’t strikeout. Rather, the famous Ted Williams took only a glimpse at the ball’s destination before claiming first base.

The young boy’s gaze remained focused on the ball—a homerun aimed right over his head. As a hush engulfed the Red Sox fans, the boy held his breath and nearly cried when the ball soared safely over the fence. The elderly man pounded the boy on the back and began screaming for him to run.

“Go! Get the ball!”

The boy ran as fast as his eight-year-old legs would carry him, out the gate and over the fence, to scramble with the wildly waving hands of all who anticipated the catch.

He looked up, up, eyes still firmly fixed on that white sphere.

As he felt the sting of the ball into his glove, seventeen-yearold Ted fell from his bed onto the area rug, the baseball in his hands, the book that so captivated his attention beside him.

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He had caught the winning hit, even if it was only in a dream.

Was it a dream, Teddy?

He should’ve been alarmed, but he was beginning to expect the ghostly voice. If only Casper could take this morning’s test for him.

Ted stumbled into his small bathroom to brush his teeth and throw some water in the general direction of his face. Yesterday’s clothes would have to suffice, but he grabbed a clean pair of underwear and applied a double dose of under-arm deodorant just in case.

“Bye, Mom!” he yelled on his way out the front door.

If she voiced a reply, Ted didn’t hear it in his hurry not to be late for school.

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16 The Ad After school, Ted read his mother’s newspaper ad for the baseball. Rawling baseball. Possibly signed. Good condition.

Collector quality. Please call 555-5555 with a complete description to claim.

With the possible collector’s value of their find, she was anxious to return it to its owner, even if that meant the punishment of a neighborhood child.

“Your father would insist that we find this ball’s home. He’s a real nut when it comes to baseball memorabilia.”

The discoloration of the once white leather was the biggest telltale sign of aging. The huge cursive scrawl of Rawlings gave away the age as well. The ball company didn’t use this insignia any longer. Ted had learned this in his studies before falling a captive reader into Ted Williams’s life.

Just hours before, Ted held the ball in his hand for over an hour while he re-read articles on the internet, hoping maybe that he might feel something to link the ball with the reason for its existence in his room. Nothing came to him indicating this psychic connection, though. He had to credit this act of ball worship for the surprise conclusion of his dream. Catching a home run ball during a major league game was a big deal, but he had never been in that position.

He wanted to meet the ball’s owner as much as did his mother.

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Ted entered the living room just in time to hear the landline ringing.

“Mom? You here?” Ted called out. Not hearing an answer, he reached for the receiver just as the answering machine picked up.

“Hi, babe. After I dialed the number, I realized the time difference. That baseball in the newspaper? I think that’s my ball.

Gramps used to tell this story all the time. I’m sure I’ve told it to you. It happened at a Boston Red Sox game. Ted Williams hit that ball. The Ted Williams! Don’t let it get out of your sight! I’ll try to call back later. Love ya. ” Ted stood transfixed at the sound of his father’s voice but made no move to pick up the handset.

The original Ted Williams of Baseball Hall of Fame hit that ball?

Ted raced up to his room to retrieve the baseball. Turning it over with one hand, he tentatively placed a finger on the faded red threads. The Ted Williams had actually hit this ball. GreatGrandfather Williams had retrieved the homerun hit to claim it as his own. Bobby Williams still cherished his inheritance. And now, Bobby’s son held the relic to his heart.

It all comes around in the end, Teddy, the ghostly voice whispered.

Ted nodded in acknowledgment.

And then it hit him. He knew this story!

As Ted raced to retrieve the old wallet, his pulse raced fifty miles an hour. This is the story in the old wallet! His grandfather’s?

Great-grandfathers? Words?

Was there a hidden message here?

What am I missing here? Ted asked the empty space around him.

If Dad wanted to play ball so badly and his immediate relative worshipped the game so much, what’s the problem?

Not all is evident, Teddy. Give your dad a chance to speak his truth.

“So, why didn’t he follow his dream? Is he that much of a hypocrite?” Ted shook his head violently, slapped his palm on the floor, and then covered his face with both hands. “Why is 104

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growing up so hard?” he asked through his fingers. His invisible companion’s response was slow in coming—so slow, in fact, that he wasn’t certain he heard it.

Parenting is much harder.

105

17 Road Trip “It will be fun! The perfect way to celebrate Halloween.”

Ted couldn’t take his eyes away from her face. “She’s so pretty,” he thought before forcing himself back to the present. When had he started thinking of Grace like that?

“What do you think, Williams? Sound like a plan?” Nico reinforced Ted’s need to focus and not get lost in a silly daydream.

Shaking the mysterious fog from his inner vision, Ted directed his attention to the Italian redhead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. When is this happening?”

“Ted Williams, where is your brain today? Are you paying any kind of attention to us? What’s got you so rattled today?” Grace delicately dipped a soggy-looking waffle stick in the supposed Maple Syrup provided by the cafeteria lady. Her grimace was evidence of the second-rate breakfast food. Ted thought once again that not everything in perfect little Ellison was always perfect.

“You’ve been lost in Gagaland since you got here.” Grace slid her breakfast tray to the side before retrieving an apple from her backpack.

“I think it sounds great.” Nico enthusiastically nodded his carrot head while reaching for Grace’s discarded tray as if he were starved. Syrup dripping from his chin, he continued. “I mean since we’re supposedly too old to trick or treat. Really? Who’s too old for candy?”

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“Right. But we are evidently entering our young adult stage, so let’s take advantage and move forward. What say you, Ted, of all things spooky?” Grace chewed on her Golden Delicious, careful not to spit out the juice as she spoke. “We’ll meet up in the church parking lot at nine. That way, we can help Pastor Larry clean up after trick-or-treating. Make sure you dress warmly. It’s a bit of a hike to the scene of the crime.” Grace shuddered at the reference to the well-known folklore tale of Coffin Hollow.

According to legend, a Civil War soldier returned home to claim his bride only to find that she had chosen his more available brother. Gunfire ensued, leaving the spurned soldier dead and forever haunting the site of his death by riding a floating coffin up and down Booths Creek at midnight every Hallows Eve. “Can we take snacks?” Nico asked, licking the syrup remnants from his fingers.

Rolling her eyes in his direction, Grace slapped Nico’s arm before gathering her now-cleaned breakfast utensils. “You are such a doofus! What did you do? Lick the tray?”

Ted spent the remainder of the morning lost in a confusing mixture of thought. What was wrong with him? All he could think of was being alone in the dark late at night with Grace by his side. He had enough to demand his attention without adding girl stuff to his growing list. His ghostly spirit guide and his father’s baseball should be enough for now without a romantic entanglement. That was Randal’s domain.

Thinking of Randal, Ted considered maybe that old lifestyle was a bit more preferable. A life of crime didn’t take much energy, other than running from the police.

Glad that Nico would be a third party for their late-night rendezvous, Ted tried to concentrate on classwork for the rest of the day; but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the fact he was crushing on Grace.

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18 It Just Keeps Getting Weirder “Ted, honey, you’ll never believe it! Your dad’s flight has been changed again. He’s coming home this weekend!”

Patsy Williams’ words stopped Ted cold at the door. He couldn’t coherently register his mother’s words.

“Teddy, did you hear me?”

The neighbors could probably hear her, Ted thought. She’s practically screeching.

“Mom, take a breath. You’re turning purple.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so excited.” Patsy closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, exhaling gently through her mouth, a cleansing breath she used to clear her mind.

Shaking her head sharply from side to side, Patsy took another breath and opened her smiling eyes, bright with fresh tears.

“He called right after you left for school this morning. I thought about calling your school, but didn’t want to interrupt your day. Besides, this kind of news is better in person, don’t you think?”

Ted forced a tremulous smile in his mother’s direction before collapsing on the sofa behind him. So, his father was coming home. For good? Or is this just another layover? Did he even want to be here? After dropping off his family before carting across the world doing whatever his job wanted him to do? Ted’s

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skepticism kicked in high gear and he found himself feeling sorry for his mother. She was so blindly under Dad’s spell.

“It gets better, Ted. The Pittsburgh office has permanently relocated your dad to West Virginia! Bobby Williams is coming to town!”

Mom had no idea the significance of her words. A tremor wiggled up Ted’s spine as her announcement silently echoed the faded words on the mysterious letter in the attic.

The attic! Ted needed to get to his attic and talk to the spirit!

She probably had some advice on this unexpected news. That is, if he could conjure her up. If she really existed. Sometimes he thought he was just going crazy.

“Mom, this is big news. I’m going to my room to put my books away and …” And what? Talk to a mysterious dead person who might be a relative about my dad who is alive and returning home to retrieve an autographed baseball that came sailing through my window after my grandfather caught it during a Red Sox game in the 1940s? Yep, that will certainly settle my nerves.

He didn’t need to worry about any further explanation. Patsy Williams was in her own little world of mentally planning her husband’s return. Ted’s existence was secondary at the moment.

Leaving his mother to her newest project, Ted headed to his attic where for once, he hoped to be startled by the paranormal.

109

19 Bobby Williams Is Coming To Town “Your dad’s coming home next weekend? That’s great, Ted! You must be really excited!” Nico dumped another pack of sugar in the cup of steaming Earl Grey in front of him.

“Like a little tea with your sugar?” Grace asked from her perch on the opposite side of the café table they had secured at the Book Barn. When Nico had announced he needed to move their Friday after-school to the book store for fresh research of Dr. Ruth Ann Musick’s Coffin Hollow, neither Grace nor Ted disagreed. A change of scenery sounded good.

“Anyway,” Grace continued, directing her attention from Nico to Ted. “When is he coming home?”

“You’re never going to believe this,” Ted said. “He’ll be here in time to go to Coffin Hollow. Evidently, he and his high school friends used to make a midnight visit every Halloween. In fact, they still met there every year when they were in college, no matter where they were enrolled.”

“Ted, that is so neat. Your dad sounds like one of us!”

Grace’s enthusiasm was typical Grace, but the question mark hanging in the air was apparent to Ted. As if she read his mind.

“I don’t know about that. I never really thought about what my dad was like as a kid. You’ve probably already figured out that we’re not especially close.” Ted stirred creamer into the cup of coffee in front of him. He surprised himself at sharing this revelation with his friends. And that is exactly what Grace and 110

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Nico had become: friends. Not like Randal. They weren’t using him like Randal had. Their goal was not self-serving. These toogood-to-be-true people with him right now were sincere and not looking for the next big score. Grace and Nico were probably too good for him.

“I think that’s all about to change, Ted,” Grace said quietly, making Ted kind of believe her.

“It’s neat that he’s going to be here for Coffin Hollow night, Ted. Are his friends coming too?” Nico reached for yet another sugar packet, earning a swat on the hand from Grace. “Hey, no interfering with a man’s condiments, please.”

“So, does this mean there will be more than just the three of us lining up on the banks of Boothe’s Creek to witness this mysterious dead soldier floating across the water? I hope we don’t scare him off,” Grace mused out loud.

“You’re worried about frightening a ghost? Do you realize how crazy that sounds?” Nico, with a deliberate look at Grace, tore open his most recent sugar pack, accidentally sprinkling the table surface with glittery grains of white sand.

Ted looked at his friends bickering about sugar and ghosts and decided to make an effort with his dad. No, they hadn’t been close lately, but Ted realized he shouldered most of the blame.

Engulfed in the purity of Ellison was making its mark. He didn’t need the danger of Randal Marks and dark city streets to fortify him. This revelation surprised and soothed him at the same time.

“Hey, Nico, what’s the deal with all this sugar everywhere? I hope you’re not diabetic.” Raymond, as the Book Barn barista, tried to sound light-hearted, but discontent was evident in his voice. With wet rag in hand, he expertly cleared the table surface of Nico’s mess.

“Sorry, Ray, I was just trying to improve the taste of that nasty tea bag. Does anyone actually drink Earl Grey and enjoy it?

Tastes like pencil shavings to me.”

Grace rolled her eyes and leaned her head in Ted’s direction to convey her impatience. “So, how do you feel about all of this?

Are you excited about seeing your dad? What does the lady in the attic have to say about it?”

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“I, uh, what do you mean?” Did she think he sat around holding social hour with a ghost every day? Once again, he had to wonder about the juxtaposition of her faith in God while entertaining the possibility of ghosts. He remembered the old family Bible his mother had found in the living room and made a mental note to look for answers there later when he was alone.

Surely that would be the place to substantiate this conundrum.

“I just think she must be an ancestor,” Grace continued.

“She’s definitely someone who knows the man who caught that baseball. She’s linked to the story. She’s linked to you somehow.

What other reason would she be hanging out in your attic?”

Ted glanced down at the book of folklore on his lap. It was obvious that people in this town believed in the paranormal enough to contribute to a publication such as the one on his lap.

Dr. Musick had actually published three such collections based on stories told her.

“Look, Ted, I believe in God with my whole heart. He is a huge part of my life, but I would be an idiot to think we shouldn’t use the intelligence He gave us. He is omnipotent. He is everywhere, and He uses His powers in special and unique ways to give us answers and guidance. So why would he not lead us through the angels he has allowed to revisit earth? Makes sense, right? Who are we to argue with the ways of the Lord?”

Grace’s intuition was scary. Not only has she somehow invaded his private thoughts, but she also managed to draw a firm connection between the afterlife and the present.

He caught his breath when their eyes locked. He was afraid to break the spell by forcing oxygen back into his lungs. He swore his heart actually skipped a beat. Did she feel it also?

“Hey, guys!” Nico’s squeal brought their attention back to the here and now. “Look at this cool mask. Should we wear costumes Friday night?”

Nico looked more ridiculous than normal with the oversized black cat head perched atop his orange head. His absence hadn’t registered with either Grace or Ted, causing Nico to miss the weird tension between them.

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“I bet I can find something to make a tail in my mother’s craft collection. Maybe put a little bell around my neck. Or, do you think that would scare away the floating coffin? So, maybe that’s not such a great idea, but I could find some furry material and—no, that wouldn’t work either.”

As Nico rambled on about catnip, Ted and Grace shared a little smile and simultaneously rolled their eyes.

Friday night couldn’t come fast enough, but it also seemed to arrive ridiculously fast.

Hearing a ruckus outside on the front porch, Ted prepared for his first sighting of Bobby Williams in months. Uncertain of what was to transpire, he set his mind at ease by closing his eyes and focusing on the inner peace he wanted so badly to adopt.

His dad was home. This was a new beginning. He had to try to give it his best. Between Grace and Nico, Ted was beginning to realize the importance of family and of living with a father figure in the house. It had been too long. Memories of disappointments and the supreme need to bond with his errant father held no importance today. Ted wanted to start new and this was his chance.

“There he is!” Bobby Williams reached for Ted in such an exuberant manner that Ted nearly recoiled in fear.

“Hey, son, it’s so good to be home. And on such an important day! I hear we’re headed to Booth’s Creek later to see the floating coffin!”

Ted hardly recognized his father. Bobby Williams, normally suited in the straight-laced fashion threads of the successfulyet-stoic businessman was now casual in a pair of worn denim jeans and a soft frayed Red Sox t-shirt. Ted didn’t even know his dad owned such comfy attire. Where were his gold cufflinks and polished wing-tipped shoes? Where was his dad? Why was he smiling? How many cocktails had he consumed on his flight?

Who was this stranger?

“Hey, Ted, we’re here!” Nico’s voice cut the tension in the air, giving Ted a second to refocus and gather his thoughts.

“Great!” Bobby held out his hand to Nico. “Hello. You must be Salvador’s son. Where’s your dad? Is he coming, too?”

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Nico’s confusion mirrored Ted’s own.

“I’m right here!” Another voice was added to the growing number of people accumulating on the Williams front porch.

“Good to have you home, Bobby! It’s been far too long. When Nico told me about your return, I got hold of Larry and Clyde.

They should be here soon.”

“Wow, I didn’t know it was going to be a party.” Grace appeared in the yard and immediately grabbed one of the suitcases on the ground. “Mrs. Williams, I’ll get this one.”

“Thank you, Grace. Don’t worry about the rest. These fellows can take care of them after all the greetings are finished.”

Before he knew it, Ted was surrounded by an assortment of people he didn’t recognize. The distinct sound of a Harley Davidson motorcycle alerted the growing crowd. As Pastor Larry pulled up on his shiny black bike, enthusiastic applause broke out on the otherwise peaceful lawn.

“Okay, we’re all here and accounted for,” the man who was supposedly my father announced and clapped his hands together as a precursor for further words.

“I know I’ve been absent for the last few years, but I’m back. I’m not going anywhere. It’s time to resume the annual Halloween trek to Coffin Hollow. And it looks like our numbers have grown.” Bobby shifted his gaze toward Ted. “I’m guessing you’re to blame?” He smiled, and Ted swore he heard his ghost’s voice whisper in his ear.

You presume correctly, Bobby. Welcome home.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Pastor Larry announced and gave his bike an additional roar of the accelerator, causing the passenger Ted assumed was Clyde to jump noticeably.

And with that, an unspoken agreement to follow the motorcycle’s driver down the street and toward the creek led the people of Ellison to Booth’s Creek.

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20 The Aftermath “That was incredible!” Nico proclaimed underneath the giant sombrero he’d opted for as his Halloween accessory. Ted assumed the cat theme hadn’t panned out and secretly thanked whatever element blocked that particular train of thought. The Mexican flair of the colorful hat and coarsely hewn shawl suited Nico more appropriately than the kitty cat theme.

“But, nothing happened,” Ted said.

“What do you mean, nothing happened?” Nico replied.

“Didn’t you see how many people were there? All your dad’s buddies? Grace’s dad and my dad and even your mother went with us. That was great!” Ever the optimist, Nico refused to fall into the rabbit hole of doom. If our fathers wanted to believe in the lore of Dr. Ruth Ann Musick and the Purloined Rebel, then we were obligated to do the same in the name of tradition.

Ted’s thoughts went to Randal and his propensity for disbelief. This entire scenario would have sent him into spasms of laughter. That’s when Ted realized that he wanted to believe in the folk legend as well. After all, he had a ghost in his attic and a motorcycle-riding minister preaching Sunday sermons.

“Thanks, son.” Bobby Williams startled Ted with a firm hand on his shoulder, followed by a cautious squeeze. “I’m so glad to be home. I’m not leaving again without you and Mom in tow.

What do you think of my little town?”

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Later that night, Ted tried to summon his attic spirit. He didn’t want to talk too loudly in fear of attracting undue attention from his parents while they continued the celebration of Bobby’s return in the kitchen below. While most of the Coffin Hollow participants scattered to their respective homes with promises to meet again for Sunday service, Clyde and Mr. Salvatore couldn’t pull themselves away from their friend.

Ted was surprised that his mother was tolerating this intrusion—but then again, nothing should surprise him at this point other than the fact that this felt kind of . . . normal. Just like life was supposed to be.

Since he begged off on more conversation with his parents, Ted hoped they believed his excuse of being tired after a week of school followed by an unusually late Friday night. It was actually after two a.m., and if Ted normally saw those numbers on the clock dial, it wasn’t because he was hanging out with adults.

Tonight he really needed to hang with an adult, though—a dead one.

The floating coffin hadn’t appeared, not surprising Ted and his friends, but surprisingly to the disappointment of his dad and friends. Ted guessed they were hopeless romantics also. He was beginning to realize that there was a lot about his dad that needed to be studied. And he was cautiously looking forward to the opportunity.

But for now, the need to connect with his ghostly roommate far exceeded getting to know his father.

Keeping his voice low but clear, Ted started talking to the air, relaying the night’s events and sharing his surprise at his dad’s behavior. He was almost embarrassed to admit what he didn’t know more about his dad.

“So, if there’s anything you could tell me about him, I’d surely appreciate it,” Ted murmured after a steady uninterrupted twenty-minute monologue.

He decided to let all that information sink in while he prepared for bed. As the silence carried on, Ted took his time with dental hygiene, flossing twice. He took the time to sort the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and even straightened his desk.

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By the time he ran out of reasons to delay placing his head on the pillow, his attic oasis was the cleanest it’d been yet. Mom would be proud.

When the clock ticked over to 3:15 a.m. and he could no longer hear conversation down below, Ted reluctantly doused the lights and crawled into his bed, yet to hear from his spiritual companion.

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21 Gone Fishin’ “So, tell me all about what’s going on,” Ted’s father requested when the family gathered late Saturday morning for a brunch of ham and cheese omelets. The excitement of Bobby Williams’ return home was still prevalent in the air, but any accompanying tension was far less evident.

Wanting to remain true to his secret vow to try harder, Ted wasn’t yet comfortable being open with his father. He struggled with the appropriate words.

“Life is good here, Bobby.” Patsy Williams said, saving her son from replying, whether intentionally or not.

“I’m so glad the two of you are settling in. Ellison is a good community.” Bobby paused to spread a layer of fresh peach jam over his toast. “No, it’s not the bustling atmosphere of the city.

No, there isn’t a business on every corner. But yes, there is a certain peace here that you won’t find anywhere else. And, I don’t care what anyone says, there’s never a dull moment if you know where to look.”

Ted had no other option but to agree with his dad’s evaluation of Ellison, even if it wasn’t his initial reaction upon arriving here.

It hadn’t taken long for the small-town life to grow on him, and since Randal was no longer in his life, he felt freer to be true to himself.

“It looks like you’ve found yourself some good people to hang out with,” Bobby continued, eyes firmly on his son’s face.

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Ted hoped that his expression mirrored the hope in Bobby’s eyes, but he also didn’t want to appear too open just yet.

“Yeah, I like Grace and Nico just fine. They’re different, though.”

“Good different, I hope?” Bobby asked carefully.

He wasn’t exactly pressuring Ted to concede, but the invitation was evident.

“I don’t know,” Ted said. “They’re just different than anyone else I’ve ever known. It’s almost like they’re too good to be true.”

Bobby Williams studied his son’s face and tried to read his body language.

“Listen, Ted, let’s get this elephant out of the room and talk about our situation. You were the catalyst for this move from Pittsburgh. While we lived in the city, I didn’t have the luxury of being home very often. The demands of my job were huge. Don’t want to blame my job on my shortcomings as a dad, though, even if that really was the biggest reason. To be successful on the job, I had to make some very difficult choices.” Bobby reached for his wife’s hand before continuing. “But that’s all behind us now, and I learned a valuable lesson. My family—you and Mom—are more important to me than all the money in the world. But I had the chance to create a comfortable income for us. I hope the result isn’t a permanent scar on our life here in Ellison. I probably should’ve accepted that responsibility sooner. I know that now.

But we live and learn. Right?”

Ted sat stunned.

We live and learn? Was that supposed to hold some hidden message? Was his dad forgiving him of his crimes with Randal?

Did he expect Ted to bow at his feet? What was it that Pastor Larry said a couple of weeks ago about bowing at the feet of Jesus? Is that what his own father expected of him now?

“We all learn from our mistakes, Ted. I pray you can forgive me of mine.” Bobby’s voice was almost a whisper. “Let’s start over, Teddy.” Bobby ruffled his son’s hair and, for just a second, a brief warm second, Ted was a child again, sitting on his father’s lap, laughing over Saturday morning cartoons. He could nearly hear the toot of Thomas the Train.

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“Hey, guys, what’s the hold up? Let’s load up! Those fish aren’t going to catch themselves.” The familiar voice of Nico’s dad penetrated the kitchen.

“We’re going fishing, Ted. You ready?” Nico popped his orange head into the doorway.

Grinning, clad head-to-toe from the pages of a Cabela’s catalog, Nico looked like an outdoor sports advertisement. Ted could only shake his head.

A khaki-colored floppy hat sat low on his forehead, a row of fish hooks swinging dangerously close to his eyes. Attached to any open space on his waterproof vest was a badge representing every state in the country as if advertising a collection of conquests on the stream.

Nico’s hip waders squelched with each step, making a ridiculous ruckus as he crossed the tile floor to Ted’s side. He crouched as far as his all-consuming fishing uniform allowed to whisper in Ted’s ear, ”I think they drink beer when they go fishing, so guess who the designated driver is.”

Ted couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, Nico. Of course, they drink beer. If we were anywhere else, we would probably be drinking too.

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22 Father And Son Reunion “Do you really believe there is a ghost in your room?” Bobby peered intently at Ted for a full minute before releasing his gaze to stir the hot coffee in front of him. He didn’t want to not believe his son, but this recent confession felt like far too much of a confession of his own to totally be realistic.

He never uttered a word to his own parents about the strange events from his own past visits to the attic. He always passed them off as particularly vivid dreams brought on by his obsession with Stephen King novels read late at night. On many of those restless nights, he crept down the stairs to curl up on the living room couch for any sleep that might welcome him. The older he got, though, the more his ghostly visitor began to unnerve him.

He wasn’t ready to have this conversation with Ted. He’d always hoped that he imagined that ghostly voice from so long ago. But it wasn’t up to him now. Martha wasn’t a figment of his horror novel addiction. Although his attic spirit had come in handy for creative writing assignments in junior high school, he had to face the hard realities now. His own son was experiencing these same visits and there had to be a reason.

“Who comes to see you up there, Ted?” Bobby asked cautiously.

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Ted’s eyes widened at the question. “I’m not sure Dad, but I think it’s a relative. And I think she knew that baseball player you named me for.”

Bobby slowly shook his head from side to side before looking Ted square in the face. “Ted Williams. That’s his baseball you found. My grandfather got that ball at a Red Sox game in Boston when he went to Fenway with his father and uncles. My dad gave me that ball after his dad gave it to him. It’s probably worth a great deal of money to the right collector.” Bobby raked his fingers through his hair. “Tell me again where you found it, Ted.” “I didn’t find it, Dad. It kinda, like, found me.” As Ted relayed the story of the ball flying through the attic window.

“Do you have dreams up there in the attic?” Bobby asked and listened patiently as Ted reviewed the dreams that plagued him since arriving in Ellison.

“She keeps repeating the same theme, Dad. She wants Ted Williams to come home.”

Bobby grinned, mouth closed, and blinked rapidly before speaking. “Yes, that would be Martha Williams. That’s my grandmother. She loved baseball. She loved Ted Williams. That baseball that sailed through your window was her absolute favorite possession. My grandfather gave it to her as a wedding gift. Over the years, it has disappeared repeatedly, only to be brought back mysteriously.”

Ted creased his brow and looked closely at his father.

“So, she really exists? Martha Williams is really haunting our attic? And she talks to whoever sleeps up there?”

“I don’t pretend to understand it, Ted, but Grandmother Martha has been hanging around here since before you were born.

When my parents finally agreed that I could move my bedroom up there, Dad warned about my roommate. I thought it was a joke. On that very first night, though, I practically lost my nerve, but it was as if Martha had been waiting for me. I remember that I dreamed all night long and was totally exhausted when I came down for breakfast the next morning. My dad, your grandfather, commented on my appearance at the breakfast table, but never questioned me. I think he knew. I really believe he was the first 122

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to be haunted by Martha. Since he was raised in the church, it was probably crazy to admit such a thing. He never asked, so we never talked about it.” Bobby took a long, thoughtful breath.

“That is until right before he died.”

123

23 Nico Can’t Stand It “Then what did he say?” Nico squealed like a pig, drawing far too much attention for Ted’s comfort.

Noticing his general discomfort, Grace saved Ted any more anguish and addressed Nico. “Tell me again. When do you go back to University?”

Nico blinked at the turn of conversation, but brushed off Grace’s inquiry with a flip of his hand. “Not important. I want to know more about the attic ghost. She really exists?”

“Nico, that’s all I got. You know everything I know. I’m just happy to know I’m not crazy. I’m not the only one who has lived with her. According to Dad, Martha had a major crush on Ted Williams and always made sure she had his favorite foods stocked and that his room was always ready for his visits.”

“Wait a minute!” Nico’s eyes were wide, and Grace patted his arm urgently in an attempt to lower his volume. Taking an audible sigh, Nico began again. “You mean to tell me that Ted ‘The Kid’ Williams stayed in your house? More than once? And he knew your great-grandmother personally? Where have I been?” Nico slapped his palms on the cafeteria table in front of him, causing another wave of curious stares. “Have you been holding out on us, Teddy? Why am I only now learning this?”

Ted shook his head in frustration. “I am NOT holding out, Nico. I just learned this myself over the weekend. Now, try to remain calm.” Ted looked pointedly at Nico. “But, my dad and 124

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his father were visited by Martha also. I think it’s because Ted Williams actually slept in the attic when he came to visit. He said it was peaceful up there.”

As his two friends took time to process his words, Ted picked up his backpack in one hand and his empty milk carton in the other. “I’ve got to get to class. You two coming?”

Moving away from the table, Ted threw a question that floated back to Nico and Grace. “Oh, if she was alive, do you think Dr. Musick would be interested in printing our story in her Coffin Hollow?”

He didn’t see the startled expressions on his friend’s faces, but he knew without a doubt that they would all be convening in his attic bedroom more often.

THE END

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Epilogue Martha Williams watched as her favorite threesome pounded up the attic stairs for their weekly visit. She enjoyed the company and hoped her presence wasn’t disturbing. With Bobby and young Teddy here in her house, her restlessness had eased considerably, but she knew in her heart of hearts that the emptiness that plagued her could never be filled until the return of her Ted ‘The Slugger’ Williams. That day would certainly be her own TWM.

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Acknowledgments My father’s stories are much like the one Teddy finds in the old wallet. The stories are rich in color and exaggerated detail.

None of the character names are common nor are their job.

Although I never met the majority of these folks, I appreciate their existence in my Heritage. Richard Boney Carrico I remember as the only Italian in Madison, West Virginia, the town from which these character hail. I’m not certain of his hair color, but that is irrelevant to the contributions his existence has provided for my red- headed Italian characters. The names of Judge Hall, Doc Howell, State Trooper Scotty, WV State Senator Luther Jones, and Boston Red Sox owner Tom Yawkey provide factual credence to some of my dad’s farfetched tales.

Doskey Hall, Robert Nipp, Nadine Hager, Eva Ruth Prio, Robert Knipp, Nadine Hager, Nellie Kitchen, Ival Green, Mr. Perry, Wilda Miller, Harold Woods, Aster Currey. Brownie, Sonny Howell, Hallie Banks, Corkey Drinkard, Arch Griffith, Ray Fortney, Ray Smoot, Hairbrain Saunders, and Bill Christie are all names I grew up either knowing or hearing about; each name representing his or her own fantastical story.

My own relatives also play a huge part in the wonderfully richness of my dad’s history and that of the fictional town of Ellison, West Virginia: Without my grandparents, Hallie Bird and Laura Thelma Myers, my dad John “Whacker” Wilson Myers would not exist to pass on the tales that form the characters of my brothers and me; and without his grandparents, JK and Courtney, and his uncles, Hick and Joey, and his Aunt Ival, an unfilled hole would exist in the details of stories told.

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Resources NICCO’S REDHEAD RESOURCES: • Are redheads going extinct? by Jacob Silverman (https:// science.howstuff works.com/life/genetic/redheadextinction.htm) • The World’s Largest Redhead Festival Was Founded by a Blonde by Shelby Vittek (https://www.nationalgeographic. com/travel/article/things-to-do-redhead-festival) • Given that red hair doesn’t adapt to warm climates, the gene could – at some point – become extinct. A scientist told Scotland Now: “I think the regressive gene is slowly dying out… Climate change could see a decline in the number of people with red hair in Scotland.” Noooooo! (https:// nationaltoday.com/news/redhead-facts/) Ted Williams Research: • My Turn at Bat: The Story of My Life (Fireside Sports Classics),

by Ted Williams • Ted Williams: My Father by Claudia Williams (Abel)

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