Brenda

Chapter Six: Too Old for Toys

I couldn't believe it—I did it. I had moved the doll. It started with the head, and then I learned to move the legs. However, I didn't want Riley to see me move because that would freak him out even more. The most important thing was that I was finally out of that house. Voodoo worked, and I couldn't be more grateful.

Where was Riley, though? He hadn't returned to his bedroom since overnight.

His door opened, and I smiled in the dog's body, but it vanished when only Mr. Kendall stepped into the room.

"Whoa!" he yelled, tripping over me, but he landed on his hands and knees. "What the—?" Mr. Kendall stood and picked me up. "What's Riley doing carrying around a toy? He's too old for them."

Toy? I was no toy. I was a ghost attempting to grasp freedom.

Mr. Kendall sighed and carried me into the house's hallway. He paused at the ladder leading to the attic and put me under his sweaty armpit. Gosh, did he ever wear deodorant?

Mr. Kendall climbed the ladder and entered a new world. Strings of Christmas lights hung on the walls, and a few looped around the small, circular area where I saw Riley shaking a treasure chest.

"What's in you?" he asked aloud.

"Whatcha doing?" Mr. Kendall set the dog down beside the TV before Riley.

"Why do you care?" Riley turned away from him. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Yes, but I'd rather it not be for you."

Riley froze, and my eyes widened. Who said that to their child?

Mr. Kendall pointed at me. "I found that doll in your room."

Riley glanced over his shoulder. "So?"

"You know you're too old for toys. I'm packing it away up here."

"No!" Riley dropped the treasure chest and stood. "You can't pack that dog, Dad."

"Oh, I can't? Since when have you been so interested in a toy?"

I'm no toy, buddy. I attempted to move, but the dog didn't listen that time. I had to find a way to release my spirit from it.

"It's just..." Riley's voice trailed.

"You're too old, and that's final." Mr. Kendall scooped me up again and approached a stack of boxes labeled Toys in the attic's corner. He opened the top one's flaps and tossed me inside, trapping me.

No, not again! Pitch blackness surrounded me, followed by Mr. Kendall taping the box shut.

"Dad, what are you doing?" I heard Riley yell. "You'll scare her."

"'Her?' Who's 'her?'"

Wow, I never predicted a rocky relationship between those two in my house. Riley needed me, but how would I escape? It wasn't easy for a stuffed dog to open a taped box.

"I'm going to my office," Mr. Kendall said, "and you, Riley, will attend your summer classes and clean the barn afterward."

"But—!"

"No buts! Now, pack your schoolbag and get out of here."

What was Mr. Kendall's problem? For Pete's Sake, he was so enthusiastic at my house. He gave me the music box!

Riley sighed. "Yes, Father." Footsteps told me that Mr. Kendall was leaving.

"I'm sorry about him," Riley said soon after. "He hasn't been the same since Mom disappeared. I think ghost hunting is how he grieves." I heard him ripping the tape, and the box opened.

Riley lifted me out and shut it, taking me to the treasure chest. "Dad rarely comes up here, so as long as I keep you hidden, we'll be fine." He sat and showed me the chest. "This treasure chest was Mom's. There's something inside it, but I haven't had any luck picking the lock." A glum smile crossed his face. "So, you figured out how to move last night?"

I did, but it wasn't easy. It looked like Riley was warming up to me, though, so maybe I wouldn't scare him as much now.

"Oh, what am I doing?" Riley asked himself. "Dad's right. I'm too old for toys. There's no such thing as ghosts." Even with those words, he maintained a tight grip. It looked like he couldn't make up his mind.

Frankly, I was unsure if I could, too. I liked Riley, but would it ever work between a human and a ghost? Not a ghost trapped in a toy. If only—!

"You're coming with me to class." Riley placed me on the treasure chest and carried me toward the attic's stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he checked the area and snuck me into his room, shutting the door.

Riley grabbed a backpack in his room's corner and unzipped it, slipping the treasure chest inside. After adjusting his bag's straps, he set me on his shoulder and took me outside to his bike, propped against an apple tree. "I can't wait to show you Bayan," he said, setting me in the basket. "Most schools have closed due to the pandemic, but because Banyan's a small town, ours remained open."

Pandemic? What pandemic? I didn't recall one in the Seventies, only the Vietnam and Cold Wars.

"You'll see what I mean... hopefully," Riley added, mounting his bike. "What am I doing? Why am I chillin' with a so-called ghost?"

Because you like me, Riley, and deep down, I can tell you're a good person—just lonely.

Riley peddled his bike down the driveway and turned onto a dirt road that followed the plains, hills, and cornstalks.

I barely saw a cluster of buildings out of the basket's bars. What awaited me there? While I still wasn't free, I felt comfort around Riley, unlike the Demon King. Oh, goodness, how long would it be before he realized I was gone? What would he do when/if he did?

Don't be a pessimist, Brenda. Be an optimist.

Riley paused his bike on a hill overlooking the small town and banyan trees. I barely saw a fountain in the town's heart.

"There it is, Brenda—Downtown Banyan." Riley pointed forward. "As long as you don't move in class, we'll be okay."

I sure hoped so.