The Funeral
The Beginning or the End?
Book 4 in the Jake Winters Series
DOUG WHITE
Smashwords ebook edition published by Fideli Publishing Inc.
© Copyright 2006, 2008, 2011 Doug White
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ISBN: 978-1-60414-521-2
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
In 1999 when I first started writing The Load, I created Slippery Gulch, Montana, my fictitious ghost town. I was familiar with western cattle and mining towns like every kid that grew up in the early and mid 1950’s. Every Saturday morning we got our fill on the two television channels available through such programs as Hop-Along Cassidy, The Lone Ranger, Sage Brush Trail and many others.
As a cross-country truck driver, I visited places like Tombstone, Arizona; Virginia City, Nevada; and Deadwood, South Dakota. But when I needed a ghost town to model Slippery Gulch after, none of them fit the bill. All were fascinating to visit, but they were all highly commercialized. I needed a town untouched by entrepreneurial activities. In 2000 while in Butte, Montana for research, I learned of Bannack, a noncommercialized ghost town in southwest Montana. I made the ninety-mile drive and found what I was looking for. I found my model for Slippery Gulch.
Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out how and where to include Bannack in the Jake Winters Series. What better way to visit a ghost town than with a ghost? So, in The Funeral, Peter and Jake visit Bannack. As a result, I must thank Dorothy, a ghost said to haunt the second floor of the Meade Hotel, as well as all the other ghosts that populate Bannack. A special thanks goes to Tom Lowe, assistant manager of Bannack State Park, and Arlis Vannett, tour guide who put up with my presence and tons of questions for a few days in May and again in June of 2005.
I would like to thank Doug Denbow, Shelly Sellepack and Wendy Mills, my editor, proofreader and cover designer, respectfully.
Hank Hamilton is a driver loved by Peter more than any other driver other than Jake. The series character holds pretty true to the real Henry “Hank” Helton, a retired driver and a good friend. Thanks Hank.
Cathy Hardy living in Little Rock, Arkansas mans my website and email and has been a big help over the years in many other ways, too. Thanks Cathy.
Jake, Peter and the Jake Winters Series are developing a solid base of followers. As a result, I’m receiving more email and phone calls than ever. Thank you very much.
Finally, I’d like to thank my family and friends for their love, encouragement and support.
DEDICATION
If you ever walk through the cemetery of a ghost town in the West, you may be struck as I was with the number of children that populate it. As I walked through the cemetery at Bannack, Montana, there were many stones still readable but many more very small, unmarked depressions in the ground — testimony to the presence of many more, long-since forgotten children. This book, The Funeral, is dedicated to the pioneer children that populate those many cemeteries throughout the West.
Taken from a tombstone in the Bannack Cemetery:
’Tis a little grave but O, have care, fore world wide hopes are buried there, how much of light how much of joy is buried with a darling boy.
Clarence — died Aug. 25, 1889 — aged 4yrs. 6m’s 3d’s
INTRODUCTION
On June 29, 2001 cross-country truck driver, Jake Winters was dispatched on what appeared to be a routine assignment. He was to drive to Slippery Gulch, Montana and pick up a piece of mining equipment going to a company in Reno, Nevada. As it turned out, this assignment was anything but routine and would change Jake’s life forever.
To begin with, Slippery Gulch wasn’t listed in the Montana State Glossary of Towns and Cities. According to the atlas, Slippery Gulch didn’t exist.
In the process of trying to locate the town, Jake was instructed by the Butte police to drive to Basin, a small town located on I-15, thirty miles north of Butte, Montana and where he meets with George Swansen, the burley half-owner of the Silver Dollar Saloon. George was knowledgeable on the towns of Jefferson County, believed to be the location of Slippery Gulch. While at the saloon, Jake met Jane Dowdy, George’s beautiful sister and owner of the other half of the saloon along with Mike, her woodsman husband.
Mike escorted Jake to the proper road leading to Slippery Gulch. After a nerve-racking, five-mile drive, Jake drove into the nineteenth century mining town and met Jeremiah Peabody, the owner of the J. and J. Mines, who seemed to be ignorant of anything having to do with the twenty-first century. After Peabody loaded the crusher by archaic means into Jake’s trailer, Jake was on his way.
Before leaving town, Jake befriended Peter Stevenson, a filthy six-year-old boy. Although Peter was obviously severely neglected, his eyes told Jake he was lonely, sad and terrified. They also told Jake he was desperate. Jake took a shining to the boy and decided to try and get the boy help through his newfound friends in Basin. Jake left Slippery Gulch and Peter, praying the boy would be safe until help could arrive, but it was not to be.
Meanwhile, Jake ran into his own troubles in Reno. First, it was discovered the company that ordered the machinery went out of business one hundred years ago. Then it was discovered the load was missing from his sealed trailer. Finally, he learned the FBI was charging him with the theft of interstate freight.
Jake hired Frank Krandell, a federal attorney, to defend his honor and find out what was going on. Frank hired George, an amateur historian in Basin, to learn what he could about Slippery Gulch and the J. and J. Mines.
A week after picking up the crusher, Jake returned to Basin with Frank and the two FBI Agents from Reno. At that time, George informed them that Peter’s father had murdered both Peabody and the boy on June 30. Jake was crushed and guilt-ridden. Peter had begged Jake to take him with him when he left town the day before Peter was murdered, but Jake refused. Passengers had to be at least twelve. However, George informed them that Peabody and Peter were murdered June 30, 1901 not 2001. They were both ghosts.
While in Slippery Gulch a week earlier, Jake took several pictures of Peter. Before one picture, Jake tickled Peter in the ribs to force a well-deserved smile on his face. He even gave Peter some cookies to eat and water to drink.
No one could explain how such a relationship could exist between a mortal and an immortal, but no one could deny the fact it did. Also, Peter knew where the missing crusher was and cleared Jake’s good name.
Several days after the mystery was solved, a critical article was found in the archives of Jefferson County. It was an editorial written by the guilt-ridden owner of the Slippery Gulch Gazette pertaining to Peter’s life and death. It was written four days after he was murdered. Within were written Peter’s last mortal words. Stated seconds before Peter’s death; his words became a prayer. He prayed for a friend. Although no one knew how it was possible, everybody understood Jake was the answer to the little boy’s prayer.
Since Peter’s funeral one hundred years ago was a sham, Jane, George, Mike and Jake decided they would have a Christian funeral for the boy on June 30, 2002. His bones would be transferred to a modern casket, and a granite stone would be engraved to mark Peter’s final resting place.
When Jake left Basin for the last time, Peter was with him. During the first three weeks of their travels, Peter, a product of the nineteenth century, had tons of questions. For the first time in Jake’s life, he realized how much he took for granted in his twenty-first century world. But during that same time, Peter had some of the worst nightmares imaginable, all a result of real-life experiences he had as a living child in Slippery Gulch one hundred years ago. Jake found he was forced to deal with certain situations he never thought he’d have to deal with as a life-long bachelor.
But both Jake and Peter survived those three weeks. And for the next year, as predestined by God, Jake would provide Peter with the friendship and childhood he never had.
As the year went along, Jake realized his love for the boy grew deep; so deep he worried more and more what would happen to the boy at his funeral. Would Peter be allowed to stay with Jake or would he be forced to return to the grave?
Peter had some wonderful experiences and Jake realized he was succeeding at what he was predestined to do. Jake took Peter camping in upstate New York for two weeks where he learned the finer arts of camping, fishing and canoeing. He also learned much about Mother Nature. Peter had his first plane ride, roasted his first marshmallow and enjoyed many other first experiences.
While living in Slippery Gulch, Peter desperately wanted to go to school, but the schoolmaster refused him entry, claiming he was too stupid to learn. Jake knew he was anything but, and with the help of a friend, the superintendent of schools in Jake’s hometown, he was able to give Peter a one-week experience in a first grade class. Peter was a hit with the students and was the star pupil.
In December, Peter had his first birthday party ever. At that time, he learned about Christmas and Santa Claus. But Peter was worried Santa wouldn’t visit him; after all, he never had a visit from Santa before.
Before Christmas, Jake learned Peter had a beautiful soprano voice. Peter sang two songs in church Christmas Eve, the last one being Oh Holy Night. That reduced much of the congregation to tears. The minister reported seeing a strange glow around Peter’s head resembling a halo. As a result, one more person became convinced Peter was an angel.
Christmas morning, Peter discovered Santa Claus had found him indeed. However, within his stocking was found a mysterious gift, the present Jake, Betty and Jerry (Jake’s sister and brother-in-law) could not explain — a plastic angel that eerily resembled Peter.
A note written to Peter was also left behind in place of the snacks. It referred to Peter’s confidential request stated to a store Santa Claus in a mall in Topeka, Kansas one week earlier. The only thing Peter asked for was to be able to stay with Jake forever. No one knew of that request except Peter, Jake and the store Santa. The note also referred to the plastic angel. “Who or what was that Santa?” Jake wondered.
But now Jake found himself asking the same question of Peter: What was he? However, it also rekindled his most disturbing question, the result of the deep love he’d developed for the boy: What was going to happen to Peter at his funeral? Would he be allowed to remain a mortal, or would Peter be forced to return to the grave?
CHAPTER ONE
Betty and I were sitting in the living room, trying to figure out the origin of the mystery note and gift, when we were both brought back to Earth by Peter asking if he and I could go outside with our new sleds.
The answer was no. We were visiting Connie, my niece, her husband Randy and their daughters near Rochester today. It was suggested Peter take his snowsuit and sled along. I threw my things in too. Peter was then instructed to get dressed. Breakfast would be ready soon.
“Okay,” Peter said excitedly and ran for the stairs.
Just then, the phone rang. I answered it. “Don’t mention my name,” the caller said.
“You want to talk to who? Peter? Are you sure you have the right number? Well, okay. Peter, it’s for you.”
Coming back down the stairs, he asked who it was.
“I don’t know. Sounds like some weirdo.” I handed him the phone.
Hesitantly he said, “Hello.” Then he smiled. “Hi, Hank.” He turned to me. “Jake, you knew it was Hank all the time.” Hank was an old trucker friend who Peter knew and loved. Peter and Hank met our first day on the road together in Spokane, Washington, and Hank made it to Peter’s birthday party.
“Well, he’s a weirdo.”
Peter laughed. “Yeah, Hank! Santa was here. He really found me. And he left me a note.” Peter read Hank the note then told him everything he gave and received in that order. “And I got an angel to hang on the tree. It looks just like me.” He never mentioned his experience in church the night before. That didn’t surprise me a bit. “Yeah, thanks. You have a good New Year, too. When will we see you again? Okay. He wants to talk to you, Jake.”
Peter handed me the phone then bounded up the stairs. “This must have been quite a Christmas, Jake. That note was a great idea. I would never have thought of that. Where did you ever find an angel that looks like Peter?”
“I didn’t Hank, nor did my sister or brother-in-law. We have no idea who wrote the note or how it and the angel got into the house.”
“Wait a minute! Are you saying they both came from…?”
I told him about what Peter asked Santa Claus for when we were in the mall in Kansas. “No one knew about that except Peter, the store Santa (if that’s what he was) and me. The note was unsigned, so I’m not saying it was from Santa Claus, but let’s face it Hank, I’m dealing with the supernatural. We filled the stocking last night and the angel wasn’t there, but it was this morning.” Hank was silent for a minute so I told him about Peter’s prayer last night.
“Wow! What a kid — what a Christmas!”
“You’re telling me. Talking about the supernatural, he didn’t tell you about church last night, so I will.” I proceeded to tell Hank about our Christmas Eve service and the part Peter took in it.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Hank asked.
“That’s not his style, Hank. You know he’s not a bragger.”
“Would he be willing to sing a song for me over the phone?”
Just then, Peter emerged in the kitchen, dressed. I turned to Betty and repeated Hank’s question. “It’s okay with me,” she said. “Peter?”
“For Hank? Sure.”
Peter sang Oh Holy Night. When he finished, I was waiting for a reaction but didn’t hear one. I finally said, “Hank, are you still there?”
“Sorry, Jake. I couldn’t speak for a minute. Jake…” Hank still struggling said, “that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I’m more convinced than ever you have an angel living with you, and I think the note and the angel proves it.”
“I don’t know, Hank. I know Peter better than anyone. I disagree, but he’s not a bad kid when you take everything into consideration.”
Peter smiled at me. I’ve never mentioned to him how some people believe he’s an angel. “I know that’s right. I’ll see you out on the road sometime, somewhere. Let me talk to Peter again.”
I told Peter to pick up the family room phone. “Peter, you’re beautiful.”
“Thanks, Hank.”
“I mean you’re beautiful, not just on the outside. Jake doesn’t know how lucky he is.”
“Oh yes I do, Hank, and you’re not getting him.” Peter laughed.
“Don’t worry about that, Jake. You two are a team. Peter is so outstanding, he can make you almost seem normal.” Peter continued laughing.
“Hank, thanks an awful lot for calling. It didn’t mean much to me, but Peter enjoyed it.”
“Don’t worry, if it wasn’t for Peter, I wouldn’t have called. See you guys on the road.”
“Now you two guys get moving,” Betty said.
The weather was bad. It was snowing hard. Peter loved it, but Jerry was driving and wasn’t too excited. However, Peter was fading fast. Sitting in the back with him, I put a pillow on the restraining bar on his child seat and encouraged him to rest his head on it and relax. I rubbed his neck and he was asleep in seconds.
We finally turned around. About halfway back to our house, we decided to head east on Clinton Street going towards Attica and away from Lake Erie. Before long, the roads were dry and it had stopped snowing. Once to Attica we turned north. The roads were dry all the way to Connie and Randy’s house. They had no more than six or seven inches of snow on their lawn.
Peter wasn’t about to wake up. For the next thirty minutes, the girls yelled, screamed and laughed with Christmas glee. Finally Peter woke up, a little confused. After our wake-up ritual, we had our gift exchange in which Peter received more clothes and toys and two video games. (I had requested in advance that they avoid the violent variety.)
After lunch, Randy, Peter, the girls and I suited up and went sledding all afternoon. And of course, the girls showed Peter how to make angels in the hillside snow.
Hot chocolate awaited us when we came in. Once we were all served, Betty went to the piano and Peter sang Oh Holy Night for everyone. Randy, Connie and the girls sat in absolute awe.
While we all sang a few other seasonal songs that Peter didn’t know, he hummed along. But did he ever chime in on Rudolf The Red-Nosed Reindeer! The further we got into the song, the more of us dropped out to listen to Peter until he finished in solo.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in sincere puzzlement.
“Nothing, Kiddo. It’s just that when you sing, the rest of us want to stop and listen.”
“But I like singing with you.”
I ruffled his hair and said, “Okay, lets start over again.” We all sang together this time, but Peter’s voice was dominant. “Hey, Kiddo, how about singing, All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth?”
It was a big hit with all of us.
After dinner and a good day with the family, it was time to head for home. We all said good-bye except for Peter and the girls. It was 8:30 and after a hard day and a short night, they were all out like a light.
We went home the same way that we had come. As a result, we never hit snow until we were five miles from home.
At one point during the drive, Jerry said, “This was quite a Christmas, one I’m sure none of us will ever forget. But who wrote that letter?”
“And how did that angel get in Peter’s stocking?” Betty added. We decided both were things that could not be explained by mortal logic.
The next morning, we were sitting at the table drinking coffee when we heard the toilet flush. The bathroom Peter and I used was directly above the kitchen nook, so we always knew when Peter was up. A couple of minutes later, Peter stumbled into the kitchen. He lazily climbed onto my lap.
After waking him, he walked to the fireplace, got down on his knees and looked as far up the chimney as he could, then returned and said, “Jake, what would have happened if we had a fire Christmas Eve?”
“Somehow Santa would have made it anyway. Maybe he would have put it out himself. I’m not really sure but he would have made it.”
My answer pacified him. “How about you running up and getting dressed?” I put him down on the floor, spanked him lightly on his butt and said, “Now go.” He ran off giggling.
Jerry said, “There goes one happy kid. What do you think will happen at his funeral?”
I repeated my concerns about losing him, but Betty said, “I really don’t think you will.”
“I hope Betty’s right…for both your sakes. But what are you going to do if he does go to where all good little spirits go?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t think anymore of being without him. But whatever happens, I want it to be right for Peter.”
Fortunately, I was able to get control of my emotions before Peter returned. When he came back into the room, I called him over, lifted him up on my lap and gave him a hug. “What was that for?” he wondered.
“Nothing. Can’t I give you a hug?”
He smiled. “Sure! Whenever you want.”
“Hey, Funny Face, let’s get something to eat, then go out and play in the snow.”
After eating, we spent the rest of the day outside sledding, building a snowman, a fort and then sledding again. The snow was building. It was up to Peter’s waist but he didn’t sink down very far. It was up to my waist too and still snowing hard.
For the rest of the week we spent our time reading, playing games, wrestling, playing outside, visiting with friends and watching the weather forecast each day. It snowed every day and snow was building up. Peter loved it. All my friends were anxious to hear about Peter’s Christmas.
One afternoon Betty and I were in the family room reading the newspaper. I thought Peter was upstairs looking over one of his Hardy Boys books Jerry gave him for Christmas when Peter called excitedly. “Jake, Jake, come here quick. You’re not going to believe this.”
Betty and I chuckled at his excitement. “Where are you?”
“In the dining room. Hurry!”
Betty and I rushed into the dining room to find Peter kneeling on a dining room chair with his arms on the backrest. His chin was resting on his arms as he stared at a clock on the buffet. The clock was enclosed in glass. Below the clock hung a three-sided pendulum that turned slowly clockwise then counterclockwise. It’s a common clock seen in almost every jewelry store, but apparently, Peter never noticed it before.
Never taking his eye off the pendulum he said, “Look Jake, Aunt Betty, time is going backwards.” Pointing to the pendulum he said, “It always goes that way,” (motioning with his hand in a clockwise direction), “then slows down and stops turning then goes back the other way. But I was just watching it and all of a sudden, it started going back the other way before it ever stopped. Does that mean we’re all getting younger?”
Betty and I fought laughter but not because he didn’t understand the phenomenon. It was because of his excitement and enthusiasm for discovering something new and strange. He looked at me, hoping to get a quick answer, then back at the clock. “Hey, it’s going the right way again. What happened? Oh there it goes. Now it’s going backwards again. How can a clock run backwards?”
“It’s not, Kiddo. It never changes direction until it stops. It’s called an optical illusion. In other words, your eyes are playing tricks on you. Remember sometimes when we drive down a road and way up ahead of us the road looks wet, yet when we get up there the road is perfectly dry?” He nodded. “That’s another type of optical illusion.”
Still staring at the clock he said, “Wow! That’s neat. Well, I think I’m going to stay in here for a few more minutes and watch my optical alustion.”
Betty and I chuckled. “We’ll be in the family room, Funny Face.”
Back in the family room, Betty asked, “Jake, I love his enthusiasm for everything new. Is this the way it’s been since you left Slippery Gulch?”
“Betty, you wouldn’t believe. Everything he saw was new and exciting to him, from the zipper on his pants to sighting his first jet plane. His questions were unending but they weren’t the persistent ‘why’s’ that young children tend to throw out and that can drive adults to drink. They were sophisticated. I knew right from the start that this kid was intelligent. I just didn’t know how intelligent.”
“That must have been fun.”
“Actually, by the time we got to Spokane, in some ways, I was ready to throw him out of the truck. Remember, until then I never had anybody in my truck. But I was also aware of the fact something else was happening. I was teaching again. And I loved it. The other thing was that as I looked over at him, I was looking at a smiling, happy and excited little boy. The sight of Peter lying on the ground in Slippery Gulch staring up at me with those sad, lonely and terrified eyes was strongly etched in my mind. And always will be! So I couldn’t get too upset with him if I tried.”
She laughed. “It sounds like you’re having the time of your life, and it’s obvious Peter is. I have to admit, I’m a bit envious. But having him around the house when you’re home is terrific. I love it and I love him. Has he asked any questions pertaining to the body?”
“Jake,” Peter yelled racing into the family room. “Can we go out and play in the snow for a while?”
“You have about an hour before dinner,” Betty replied.
I stood. “Let’s do it.” I looked at Betty. “The answer to your question is yes, but ask me another time.”
Peter got an invitation to attend a Christmas party at Jamie’s house on the 27th. In September, Peter had been allowed to attend first grade for one week. The first day, Mrs. Pryor, his teacher, assigned, two little boys, Jamie and Greg, as his guides for the week. Jamie quickly became Peter’s best friend, so naturally he was thrilled. Most of the kids from his class were there including Tammy. She’s a little girl that caught his eye. Grace Pryor was also present. Two children didn’t make it because they were snowed in.
The party was organized, with plenty of games and activities to keep the children busy for the afternoon. I helped chaperon. During the party, each child came up and said hello to me, many of them missing more than one tooth.
Peter was the hit of the party. All the kids wanted to know the places he’d been since they last saw him.
All the parents at the party had heard about Peter from their children and couldn’t say enough about him. Jamie’s mother had helped at Peter’s going away party in September and now asked a difficult question. Why hadn’t Peter’s teeth started growing in yet? Fortunately, she asked it when Grace Pryor and I were alone with her. Grace knew of Peter’s special situation. I simply said he was slow in developing. That satisfied her for now.
Grace changed the subject quickly. “I heard about Peter singing in church Christmas Eve and all about his beautiful voice. How did you discover it?” After explaining it, I mentioned he would be singing again on Sunday. She promised to be there.
Just then, Tammy’s mother came over and joined us. She pointed to her daughter and Peter. They were sitting quietly on the floor talking to each other. “You know, your grandson and my daughter seem to have a thing for one another. Aren’t they cute?”
I smiled. In another eleven years as Tammy would be going to her senior prom, Peter would still be six. Grace broke my train of thought. “Jake, I’m happy to hear you weren’t too rough on Peter for having a girlfriend.”
I explained to the others that Peter wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t tease him. “I did tease him about Tammy and still do from time to time. He made me promise to tease him only in private. I’ve kept my promise.”
Peter looked over at me and blushed. I winked and gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled then turned back to Tammy. “He’s so cute,” Grace said.
Later she pulled me aside to ask if there had been any more rescues since Peter’s birthday. I told her about all of them. She laughed about the Bronx incident and she was fascinated to learn about his eyesight in a snowstorm. I also told her what we’d found beside the empty snack dish on Christmas morning as well as the mysterious gift in Peter’s stocking.
Her unsolicited reply stunned me. “I’m sure, Jake, you don’t have a thing to worry about at his funeral. I’m more certain than ever that Peter is your guardian angel.”
Maybe I was the only one who wasn’t convinced.
Later that afternoon, I roamed the lower part of the house to check on the kids. At one point, I walked into a darkened room with one poorly lit corner. Jamie, Greg and Peter stood in the corner. Not knowing what was going on, I stood in the shadows and watched. Peter raised his shirt to his chest, tucking it under his chin, then lowered his pants to reveal his underpants.
I was angry but checked it and watched. Jamie and Greg were terrific kids — Peter’s best friends — and had great respect for him. I couldn’t imagine either would take advantage of him.
Soon Jamie raised his shirt, tucked it under his chin and lowered his pants to reveal his underpants. Next, Greg did the same. All three were wearing Spiderman underpants. The three stood there admiring each other’s cool underpants, laughing. Then they dropped their shirts, pulled up their pants, stuck their hands in their pockets and swaggered from the room, I’m sure convinced they were the coolest dudes at the party. They never knew I was there. I stood there chuckling to myself, thankful that for once, I’d thought before acting. Peter’s tutelage was having an effect on me. I was learning to think first.
Before leaving the party, Peter asked if Jamie could come for a sleepover tomorrow night. I talked to Mrs. Rotundo about it. It was fine with her if the roads were passable and if Jamie agreed. I felt there was no problem with Jamie.
Peter had a great time that afternoon. On the way home he asked, “Jake, do you know how to play spin-the-bottle?”
I looked at him. Good grief! We didn’t play that until the sixth grade. “Yes. Why?”
“One of the guys heard about it from his older brother and wanted to play it. None of us knew how except Paul, and he said it was stupid so we didn’t play. How do you play it?”
After explaining, he asked, “So if it had landed on me, I would have had to kiss a girl?” I chuckled and nodded. “On the mouth?” Again, I nodded. He wrinkled his nose and said, “Yuck! That is a stupid game. Who’d want to play that?”
As we were pulling into the driveway I said, “It’s usually played by older kids, but I bet you wouldn’t mind kissing Tammy, would you?”
“Jake, that isn’t funny.” I gave him a nasty laugh. Once out of the car he pushed me into a snow bank. That’s gratitude for you. He laughed and tried to get away, but he didn’t make it. I tripped him with my leg and he went face-first into his own snow bank.
That night as Peter was getting ready for bed I said, “I guess Jamie and Greg approved of your underpants.” He looked at me. “They must have. They both had their cool Spiderman underpants on too.”
“How did you know?”
“I was standing in the shadows of the room. Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy.” I paused. “Tammy wasn’t wearing Spiderman underpants, was she?”
He punched me smiling, came up on my lap and said, “Jake, girls don’t wear that kind of underpants.”
“Oh! How do you know?”
“They like Barbie Dolls and junk like that.” I decided that was a good place to drop it.
CHAPTER TWO
I went out two nights that week and although Peter was a bit uncomfortable, he did seem to get along better than he did earlier in the year.
By the morning of the 28th, we already had about fifty inches of snow, and it was still snowing. The city of Buffalo was closed and no unnecessary driving was recommended for the rest of Western New York. I talked to Mrs. Rotundo that afternoon. “I think it’s necessary for the boys to get together while you’re home, Mr. Winters. I’ll have Jamie over in about a half-hour. Besides, what’s new about a little snow in Western New York?” We both laughed and said good-bye. At 4:00, Mrs. Rotundo pulled into our driveway, which was covered with thirty inches of fresh snow since it had last been plowed ten hours ago. Fortunately, she was driving a large 4x4.
When it came to a stop, Jamie jumped out of the Ford and into snow over his waist. He plowed his way into the garage with his mother, who was bringing up the rear carrying his duffel bag. Jamie removed his boots and nylon leggings in the garage, then brought them in followed by Mrs. Rotundo. I introduced her to Betty and Jerry and offered her a cup of coffee. She thanked me for the offer, but stated she wanted to get going while she could still get home.
Meanwhile the boys were excited. Fifty inches of snow on the ground this morning and another thirty during the day was a little boy’s dream. The boys could hardly wait until tomorrow, so we could go out and play in it. The question is, how much snow would we get tonight? Fortunately, the snow compacted as it fell, or eighty inches would have buried us all.
That night the boys were ready for bed and in by eight, anxiously awaiting a story. After the story, I decided to try and lead Jamie to his questions pertaining to Peter. I had him sit up and turn toward me. I gently pulled up his upper lip. His right front tooth was just starting to break his gum line. “Well, look at that,” I said. “Here it comes.” Jamie smiled proudly.
Peter sat up and looked at his friend, smiled slightly then lay back down. I knew Peter was jealous, but also felt bad because he knew he never would have what was now growing in Jamie’s mouth. But I wanted to draw Jamie out.
I lay back down next to Peter, but Jamie remained sitting. Looking at Peter, he asked, “Why aren’t your teeth coming in? They fell out before mine did.”
I looked at Peter and smiled. “It’s time, Little One.” When we were home in early November, we had Jamie for a sleepover. After Peter had gone to sleep, Jamie indicated he felt Peter was different from the rest of the kids, but wasn’t sure how. Jamie was an intelligent and perceptive youngster. As a result, I felt he would start voicing his suspicions with other children. Peter and I discussed it and decided it was best to set Jamie straight and hopefully convince him to keep his thoughts to himself.
Peter looked at me uncertain. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He knows you’re different, Kiddo. He’s very intelligent. He’s going to come up with something soon enough.” I looked at Jamie. He didn’t have a clue as to what we were talking about and therefore felt lost.
“Jamie, do you know what the word confidential means?”
He looked confused. “I’m not sure.”
“It means if you see or hear something that is confidential, you can’t tell anybody.”
“You mean like a secret?”
Why didn’t I think of that? “Yes. Jamie, you’re only the second kid that knows about this and the other one is older than you. He also lives about 200 miles away.”
I paused. “Jamie, do you love Peter like a brother?” He smiled and nodded as Peter sat up. Peter smiled back. “Do you know that Peter would never do anything to hurt you?” Again, he nodded but was more serious this time. “Do you know that Peter loves you, too?”
Now both boys smiled. “I think he does.”
“I do, Jamie,” Peter said. “I love you like a big brother.” Jamie smiled.
“Jamie, I’m going to tell you something many people think is scary, but in Peter’s case, it isn’t. Do you know what a ghost is?”
“I think so. Isn’t a ghost a dead person that has come back from the dead?”
“Sort of. Do you know what a mortal is?” He shook his head. “A mortal is a living person. You, Peter and I are all mortals, right?” He nodded. “Do you think a person could be a ghost and a mortal at the same time?”
He thought about this. “I don’t see how.”
“Normally I’d agree with you but in Peter’s case, I can’t. Jamie, you thought Peter was different than the rest of the kids in your class, and he is. You said it was as if Peter knew how it felt to be picked on even though he was never picked on at your school. Well, Jamie, he does. Peter is a mortal most of the time, but he can be a ghost, too. You see Jamie, Peter lived once before. In his last life, children and adults picked on him all the time. His father finally murdered him. Peter died in 1901 but now he’s alive again. He’s just like you and me except he can disappear. But he never does that unless it’s an emergency or unless he’s proving to someone what he is.”
He looked at me then at Peter, then back to me. “So he could disappear right now?” We both nodded. Skeptically he said, “Okay, let’s see.”
“Peter, fade out slow and return slow.” He did. I watched Jamie carefully. He didn’t respond the way most adults do. His eyes didn’t bulge and he didn’t appear shocked. He looked on with interest then when Peter returned, he just said, “Cool!”
“Because of…his condition, he will never grow. His teeth will never grow in. He will always be a little boy. Do you see why this has to be our secret?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. Am I the only one that knows?”
“No. Mrs. Pryor and Mr. Steward, the principal of your school know, too. My sister and brother-in-law also know. If any of the kids wonder why Peter’s teeth haven’t grown back, just tell them he has a condition that won’t allow that.”
“Okay. Can I tell my parents?”
“No. You’d better let me do that. Jamie, you’re now part of a secret. How do you feel about that?”
“I think it’s pretty neat!”
“Are you afraid of Peter now?”
“Of Peter? No way.”
Peter was thrilled. “Great! Well, I’ll let you guys talk for a while. See you later.”
As I walked out, I heard Jamie ask, “So how old are you really?”
I closed the door but not tight. “One hundred seven. I was born in 1894,” Peter answered.
“Wow! So that’s why you know so much?”
“No. Grandpa taught me everything I know.”
I smiled and walked away. Fifteen minutes later, I returned. It was 9:15. Neither boy would last much longer. “Okay, you guys, it’s time for sleep.”
“Could you lay between us again for a while, Grandpa?” Peter asked.
I soon had Peter on my right arm and Jamie on my left. Peter only lasted another minute, but Jamie lasted a little longer. After Peter fell asleep, I asked Jamie if he was still comfortable with Peter.
“Sure! Peter’s neat, but now he’s even neater. He’s my little brother. I always wanted a little brother.” He wrinkled his nose the way Peter does. “I only have a little sister and a big sister. Now I guess he will always be my little brother.” He paused again. “Does it bother him that he’s never going to grow up?”
“Usually not, but earlier when I pointed out how your one tooth was starting to come in, I could tell he was thinking about it. He was also a little jealous.”
“Of me?”
“Jamie, when Peter was alive, he was hated by everybody. You always wanted a little brother. Peter always wanted a friend, just one. For one hundred six years, Peter never had a friend. Can you imagine going just a week without a friend — nobody to play with or even to talk to? Everybody calling you terrible names, and punching and kicking you? Nobody to care if you were hurt or sick — or even alive? Even Peter’s father hated him. Can you imagine going to sleep at night fearing that your own father may find you and kill you?” Jamie sniffled. I reached over Peter and got a tissue for him.
“You said Peter knew things the rest of you didn’t know. You’re right. He knows how to survive in the woods alone, day and night, year after year. He knows how to scrounge for food and clothes in a dump. He knows what it’s like to be hungry his entire life. He knows what it’s like to snuggle up between sheep, goats and cows to keep from freezing to death in the wintertime. I know little boys don’t like taking baths, but can you imagine going for six-and-a-half years without ever being bathed? That’s because nobody cared, Jamie. Nobody cared if he was sick either. He knows what it feels like knowing that your own father wants you dead. He knows how it feels to never experience love or even friendship in your entire life. He knows what it feels like to hope you can live just one more day. He knows how it feels to die alone and afraid. Oh yes, Jamie, he knows a lot that the rest of us will never know.” Now Jamie was crying in earnest. I pulled him closer.
“Then I came along. Now he knows what it’s like to go to bed at night with a full belly. He now knows what a warm bed feels like. He complains about having to take a bath, but loves knowing someone cares enough to tell him to take one. And he loves knowing someone cares enough to dry him afterwards. Now he knows what it’s like to have a friend and feel loved and cared for. He now knows what it’s like to be punished out of love instead of beaten out of hate. But it’s been hard for him to understand. He was so accustomed to people being mean and cruel to him all the time, he couldn’t understand why people are now nice to him. That’s why he asked the question, ‘Why is everybody so nice to me?’ during the party that Friday in September. You and the rest of the kids didn’t understand his question, but I did and now I think you can too. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He wiped his eyes again. “I think so but I don’t understand why he wasn’t loved right from the start. He’s so neat.”
“It took me weeks to understand that myself, and it would take me hours to explain it. Let’s just say his father was crazy — insane. He’s the one that caused it. Well, Little Guy, I think it’s time for you to go to sleep.”
“Thank you Grandpa, for telling me about Peter. I will love him forever as a little brother.” He was soon asleep.
That night I woke to a terrifying scream. Before I had a chance to turn the light on, Peter said in a scared voice, “Jake! Jake! Something’s wrong with Jamie.” I turned on the light to find Peter sitting up looking concerned at his thrashing friend. As I was getting out of bed, Peter said, “Is he having a nightmare?”
“I think he is, Kiddo. Hey, why did you wake up?”
Jamie screamed again. “I was worried about him,” Peter said. “I think you’d better sit him on your lap, Jake.”
As I picked Jamie up, I smiled at Peter. “You’re a good friend, Little One.”
“Thanks. Is he dry?”
As I sat on the chair, Jamie screamed again. I checked. He wasn’t drenched, just damp. Then he woke up crying. “I’ve got you, Little Guy. You’re safe now.”
Jamie focused on Peter. “You’re okay?” Peter smiled and nodded. “I dreamed you were…were murdered.”
I rocked Jamie. “It was just a dream, Jamie.” I sat with him for a minute then said, “Jamie, we have a little problem. You leaked a little.” He looked at me, confused, then felt his pajamas and understood. Peter looked on with interest.
Immediately Jamie started crying again. “I…I’m sorry, Mr. Winters. I did…didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t.” Although Jamie was terribly embarrassed, this was good for Peter to see. I could see by the expression on his face, he realized he wasn’t the only one with an occasional nightmare like this. Jamie also acted very similarly to the way Peter acted the first time he urinated during a nightmare. I was certain Peter noticed also. I also suspected Peter wondered if I was going to kiss Jamie, the way I did Peter when it first happened. Up to that point, Peter had never been kissed in his life, and desperately needed it. Jamie was not in the same boat.
“I know you didn’t, Kiddo. Let’s get you into the bathroom and cleaned up.” I looked at Peter. “Peter, why don’t you come with us? I think you can make Jamie feel better.” I winked at him. I could see he knew what I meant. “And bring your other pajamas.”
Once in the bathroom, I got Jamie out of his pajama bottoms. I let Jamie clean himself but I was there to assist if need be. Peter said, “Don’t worry about it, Jamie. I’ve done the same thing during a nightmare. It happens sometimes. I didn’t mean to and I was embarrassed too. I even peed on Grandpa once.”
With that, Jamie looked at Peter and chuckled a little, wiping away a tear. “You did?”
Peter chuckled, too. “Yeah, once.”
I asked, “What’s so funny about that, you two?”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Peter said chuckling. “It just sounds funny.”
“It may sound funny to you two, but it wasn’t funny to me.” Now they both laughed. “The point is Jamie, both you and Peter are six. Sometimes it happens and I understand. I will never get mad at something you have no control over. Let’s get both of you back to bed.” Jamie put Peter’s extra pajamas on. Fortunately, the bed was dry.
Once both of them were back in bed, Jamie said, “Thanks, Mr. Winters, for helping me and not getting mad.” He fell asleep quickly, but Peter wasn’t ready for sleep yet. I thought I knew why.
I picked up Peter and went to the rocker. “Peter, Jamie’s a nice kid. You love him as a big brother and I love him because he’s your best friend. But I don’t love him because he’s Peter.”
“But you called him my names.”
“No I didn’t. I called him Little Guy. You, and only you, are Little One, as in number one. I’ve called many kids ‘Little Guy’ over the years, Kiddo. That’s generic. But Funny Face and Funny Tummy are yours and yours alone. Don’t worry, Little One, nobody can replace Peter Stevenson in my heart. You are and always will be number one.”
He gave me a hug. “Why didn’t you kiss him the way you did me the first time I did that?”
“He didn’t need it. He’s been kissed many times before. Besides, I don’t love Jamie the same way I love you.”
“Thanks, Jake.” He sat quietly for a minute. “Jamie sure made a lot of noise when he screamed. Is that what I sounded like during my nightmares?”
“Usually much worse.”
He looked at me, shocked. “Really?”
“Really, but your nightmares were much worse. Jamie dreamed of his best friend dying, but you were dreaming about yourself being tortured. By the way, you were great tonight. You made Jamie feel better. Hey, Kiddo, how about going back to bed?”
“Okay.” He slipped off my lap and climbed back into bed. “Jake, are my pajamas as loose on him as they are on me?”
“Probably, but when you twist the pajama leg, they’re worse.”
He looked at me. “What do you mean? When do I do that.”
I smiled. I didn’t think he was aware of it. “When you’re sitting on my lap, worried or concerned about something, also sometimes when you’re trying to figure out how to phrase a question or comment just right, that’s when you tend to twist and play with your right pajama leg.”
“Wow! I didn’t know I was doing that. Do I do that in front of Betty and Jerry, too?”
“Sometimes.”
“Don’t they mind? Why didn’t you stop me?”
“It’s one of your characteristics. Betty and Jerry understand. It’s you. You did it when we were camped with Bill and Danny, too. They understood it was you, too. However if you ever do it when you have your new pajamas on, I’ll pull your hand away.”
He agreed to that. “I still like the others best though. They’re comfortable.”
“I know and that’s fine when it’s just the family.” I thought for a moment. “Peter, you won’t tease Jamie tomorrow about how loose they are. Will you?”
He looked at me, disappointed. “Jake, I thought you knew me better than that. I’d never do anything like that.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think so, but I was just making sure.” He accepted my apology.
“It’s late, Kiddo. I think we should both get back to sleep.” I bent over and kissed his forehead. Instantly that wonderfully contented smile returned to his face as he drifted into never-never land.
At 7:15 Betty, Jerry and I heard the upstairs toilet flush from the kitchen. We heard the thump, thump, thump of Peter coming down the stairs on his butt. Then Jamie said, “Watch this.”
Soon Peter said, “Hey, that’s neat. I’m going to try.” As Peter scampered up the stairs, we decided to see what was so neat. We walked to the stairs as Peter was slithering down the stairs on his belly, giggling. “That’s neat,” Peter said, pulling up his pajamas bottoms the few inches they slipped. “Let’s try it together.”
Both boys scampered up the stairs and were soon slithering down together, laughing all the way. I was overjoyed. Nothing changed between the boys since last night. Both boys stood adjusting their pajama bottoms. “Can we do it again, Mr. Winters?” Jamie asked. Both boys looked at me, waiting for my answer.
I’d told Betty and Jerry last night that I’d told Jamie of Peter’s status. All of us were concerned about how Jamie would respond to Peter this morning. We were thrilled. “One more time then it’s going to be time to get dressed.”
Once again, they went to the top, but this time they jumped from stair to stair going up, both stumbling twice. Once to the bottom they readjusted their pajama bottoms again. I guided them to the living room rug five feet away. Without giving them a chance to think about what was coming, I pounced. They both went to the floor quickly, laughing hysterically. While waiting for them to regain their breath, I put my hands on their chest, and looked at them — one mortal and one immortal — united in childhood, love and innocence. Then I took their faces by their chins and turned their heads one way then the other, to a chorus of giggles. “Well look at that. You two aren’t ugly anymore and you’re both awake.” The giggling went back to all out laughter. “Okay you two good looking kids, upstairs and get dressed.” I swatted them both on their bottoms as they ran off.
“You know, Jake, both of those boys are special,” Betty said as we went back to our coffee in the kitchen. “Peter’s been dead for one hundred years and Jamie knows it. Yet, the two of them are the best of friends. It’s incredible. But why is Jamie wearing Peter’s pajama bottoms?”
I explained Jamie’s nightmare, the situation that followed and how terrific Peter was with Jamie. That didn’t surprise either one of them. “And Jamie doesn’t…”
“Jake,” Peter yelled down from upstairs. “Can Jamie and I slide down the stairs one more time?”
“Once more then both of you get dressed.”
It sounded as if they were coming down the stairs faster than usual and in pain. We heard two loud bumps then all was quiet except for moans. We went in to see what they were up to. Both were on their knees on the floor at the bottom of the stairs facing the stairs. Although the stairs are covered with a heavy rug, the floor of the front hall at the bottom of the stairs is slab stone. Their heads rested on the bottom stair. They were both moaning in pain and holding their stomachs. I wasn’t sure what they had done.
I lifted Peter’s head. His chin was turning pink. I lifted Jamie’s head and found the same. Tears had formed in their eyes. “What did you two do?”
Finally, Peter raised his head slightly and explained in a strained voice. “We decided to come down the stairs in a different way. We came downstairs on our bellies, but feet first.” They both moaned as Peter put his head back down.
As they had come down the stairs, their chins had bounced off every one. And that’s not the only thing that bounced off every stair. It would have been much worse if it weren’t for the rug. The three of us couldn’t help but laugh, but Jerry and I could feel their pain.
As Jerry and I carried them to the couch in the family room, I asked, “Why didn’t you slow your descent?”
“We tried, but it didn’t work,” Jamie said.
Betty got some ice for their chins and knees where bruises were quickly forming. Their thighs were turning red from rug burns. I unbuttoned Peter’s pajama tops. His tops had slid up his chest as he’d come down. His stomach and chest were mildly burned also. I raised Jamie’s shirt and found the same. They were sore from their knees to their chins. “Sometimes you have to learn the hard way. I bet you’ll never try that again. Will you?”
They both looked at me, wiped away their tears and shook their heads. “You two okay?”
They both moaned a little and nodded.
After twenty minutes, they both stood on shaky legs. I wondered how much of this was a play for sympathy. Nevertheless, I walked upstairs with them. “How about you two getting dressed?”
“Jake, because of last night, don’t you think Jamie should take a bath?”
I looked at Jamie. “I think he did a pretty good job of cleaning up.” Both boys looked disappointed. I thought I knew what was going on. “Besides, I don’t imagine Jamie would want to take a bath anyway. Would you?” Both brightened.
“It would be okay if Peter could take a bath with me.” I thought so.
“Well, I know Peter wouldn’t be interested in a bath. Would you Peter?”
“Sure! That would be fun.”
I laughed. “I’m sure it would be, but today it’s not a good idea. Your burns would sting like crazy. Why don’t we postpone it until the next time we’re home?”
They hadn’t thought about their burns. After thinking about it, they agreed.
That day the three of us spent hours in, on and under the snow until Jamie got cold. I was having so much fun myself, I was neglectful of the boys — especially Jamie. Peter was dressed in his snowsuit, but Jamie had several layers of warm clothes on. Finally, I noticed he was shivering.
Once inside I had both boys strip to their long underwear. Sitting in front of the roaring fire, Jamie warmed up quickly. All wet clothes were put in the dryer.
The rest of the day was spent indoors playing quiet games until it was time to take Jamie home. By then, his formerly wet clothes were dry. On the way to Jamie’s house, he said from the back seat, “Mr. Winters, I’m sorry about last night.” I could tell he was close to tears. I could also tell from his expression, he never expected to be invited back.