Avenging a Ghost

Chapter Four: Happy Deathday!

The week passes by boringly but quickly, and Saturday rolls around before I see it coming. I borrow twenty bucks each from my parents and get eighty more from my sock drawer, which is less socks and more "Christmas and birthday money that I've totally forgotten about until now." I figure it'll be enough for the books I need, plus some left over.

So, of course, when I actually find them, I discover that all I'm going to get in change is a couple of pennies. Not really useful.

"Psst. Hey, lady."

I turn around and see a twelve-year-old ghost with slightly burnt 20's-style clothing holding out something for me.

"Noticed you were getting a lot of books," he whispered. "Thought this might help."

Squinting, I see that it's a hundred-dollar bill. How the fuck.

"Did you find this, or..." I pause, knowing that nobody in their right minds leaves a Ben Franklin just lying around.

"Took it off some rich fella. Don't worry, he had a lot of 'em in that wallet, so he won't notice. If he does, he'll just assume he spent it or something. I trailed him for a couple blocks---he's that kinda type."

I reach out to take it, then hesitate. "How long have you had this?"

"Just got it this morning. You're good."

Ringing up is a little bit awkward, to say the least, and I can't say it's comfortable lugging sixteen books at once in a bag, even when you're just walking to your school. But Aaron's there when I arrive, wearing a birthday hat painted black with a little ghost on it.

"Hey, you made it," he says, his face practically lighting up. Then he spies the bag and gasps. "Is that my present?"

I laugh. "Yeah, but you don't get to see it until we get to your place. Is it that far?"

Aaron tilts his head back and forth. "Depends on your definition of 'far.'"

"And that means..."

He grins. "Have you ever flown with a ghost before?"

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"IF YOU DROP ME, JACOBS, I SWEAR TO GOD---"

"Relax, you're not even that heavy," Aaron says, laughing. "Hey, look, geese!"

I make the mistake of looking down and see that we're flying over the fucking river. Definitely friend-dumping this asshole.

"Why the hell do you always hang around my school if you live on the other side of town?" I groan, averting my gaze.

"The memories," he answers. "Besides, the Depressed at our school are really nice. Look out!"

Aaron does a barrel roll as a flock of birds fly by. I scream at the top of my lungs.

"Sorry about that," he says. "Don't want you to get scratched up."

"If you didn't want me to get scratched up, we could've just taken the goddamn Max train!"

"It's not as fast. And we're about to land."

"Wait, wha---"

He swoops down towards an old-ish building made out of red brick---which, okay, describes a lot of the buildings in Portland, but still. As we get closer, I see a couple of recent ghosts doing skating tricks on the roof.

We land in front of them, Aaron being as gentle as he can. I've seen a ghost do a backflip and go right through the floor, so there's no real such thing as "landing" if they aren't careful.