Grave Shadows (2 page)

Chapter 3

I stopped,
and Jeff and I stood panting. We were almost to the flat part of the road, but I’ve learned that when Jeff yells you have to stop.

When I first heard about Jeff’s cancer, it made me want to run from him. It was painful to see him get weaker, lose his hair, walk funny. Mrs. Ogilvie, our counselor at church, helped me see Jeff needed friends the same as everybody else. The only reason I wanted to run was because I didn’t want to lose another person in my life, like my dad.

Being friends with somebody who’s sick is like trying to pull a stubborn tooth. It’s hard at first, but the more you pull and the more painful it gets, the better it feels when the thing’s actually out of your mouth. Except there’s no cancer fairy, though I wish there were.

“Can we walk the bike the rest of the way to the top?” Jeff said, still panting. He had on a backpack that looked like it weighed more than he did.

“Sure,” I said.

Ashley and Hayley caught up and walked their bikes too. I guess so we wouldn’t feel bad. Jeff and I had been riding the Santa Fe Trail, an old railroad line that’s been turned into a bike and running track. It goes for miles and miles, but we’ve worked up to 10 miles each way. That’s on flat ground. Riding in the mountains is different.

“What about you, Bryce?” Hayley said. “You don’t think there’re any ghosts back at this old cemetery, do you?”

I shook my head. “Don’t believe in ’em.”

“I’ve been coming here for months,” Jeff said when he caught his breath. I wondered how we were going to ride 200 miles up and down hills when he couldn’t even go five without gasping. “I haven’t seen anything at the cemetery except for deer and a few foxes.”

The farther we climbed, the rougher the road got. There were washed-out sections and deep ruts.

“How do you get back here?” Ashley said.

“Dad drives. We built a tree house near the cemetery. Can’t wait for you to see it.”

When we got to the top of the hill, we stopped in the shade and took out our water bottles. A car rumbled past, kicking up a lot of dust, and I smelled something that made me think I’d never eat another bite in my life.

Hayley groaned. “What’s that stink?”

Ashley pulled her shirt over her nose and pointed to the edge of the road.

“Skunk pancake,” Jeff said.

He was right. A car had flattened a skunk, and it looked and smelled like it had been there for days. We moved past it, and the girls turned their heads.

“Roadkill-a-rama!” Jeff said.

I added, “Flattened where he ran!” and I thought Hayley was going to kill us.

Something about the skunk wasn’t really so funny, though. It gave me a bad feeling.

Chapter 4

The rest of the ride wasn’t as hard
because the road flattened. Every now and then we’d get a view down the mountain through a break in the trees, and it looked like something you’d see on a brochure about visiting Colorado.

Pinecones dotted the road, and black squirrels with pointy ears darted back and forth. There weren’t many houses back here, but the ones we found were either plain and simple or mansions. A little gravel driveway might lead to a trailer with old cars out front. The next driveway might wind down a hill to a house that looked like a palace with a tennis court or a pool.

We also saw beer cans and cigarette lighters thrown about. I’d heard that teenagers came out here to party at night. Old newspapers blew around with other trash. When Hayley spotted a DQ cup she said, “I could go for a grape Mr. Misty right now.”

Some of the trees didn’t look healthy. Only pine trees and aspens grow at this altitude, but the tops of the pines were brown, like they were dying. Maybe it was just the time of year or the invading pine beetles, but the decaying trees made me think of Jeff.

Barbed wire ran along the edge of the road, going from tree to tree. Several horses stood by the fence and seemed to watch us, their backs twitching and tails swishing at flies.

“There it is!” Hayley said.

Chapter 5

The house loomed above us
like it was attached to the clouds. The deep blue sky made its faded shutters and peeling paint look more dingy. It looked like something out of a scary movie where people get stranded and are chased by some maniac.

The trees opened and bordered the house like a picture frame. Weeds and thistles covered the front yard—if you could call it that. An aspen grove had taken over one side of the hill.

“The graves are over there,” Jeff said, gesturing through the trees to a spot past the house.

I cringed as we rode past. I’d heard so many stories about people who had been killed, gold prospectors who haunted the grounds, and more. A well in front of the house had a graying bucket at its edge.

“Keep going,” Jeff said.

We pedaled to a rickety picket fence at the end of the road and parked our bikes. We walked into the graveyard, shaded by some of the largest pine trees I had ever seen. I checked my watch. We had gone five miles, but it had taken more than two hours, and if we were to be back home in time for dinner like we’d promised, we’d have to leave soon.

Jeff carried his backpack and led us to the end of the graveyard, pointing out the oldest markers. One had a simple wooden cross and looked a thousand years old. It was actually from 1904, and Jeff said it marked the grave of the son of a man we had studied about in Colorado history.

He trotted to the fence, climbed over it, and stood in front of a tree that rose like a monster. Planks had been nailed directly into the trunk. Ashley and Hayley looked skittish, but Jeff led the way and we scampered up.

Chapter 6

The view from the road
was something, but the scene from the tree house was amazing. It was like we were on top of the world. Jeff and his dad had nailed a railing around the tree house so no one would fall. We could see the town of Red Rock in the distance, houses dotting the landscape like pieces on a Monopoly board.

To our right Pikes Peak spread like a brown masterpiece. Straight ahead stood the spires of the Air Force Academy Chapel. Past that was Colorado Springs.

“Ever been here at night?” Bryce said.

Jeff’s eyes sparkled. “You should see it. A million lights flicker. Kind of makes it okay that we don’t have fireflies around here.”

Jeff seemed energized, as if just being here gave him life. He pointed out other places he recognized and even showed us where our house was by identifying the red rocks behind our property.

We drank from our water bottles, and Bryce climbed down and got our lunches from the bikes.

Jeff just picked at his food, taking some pills with his sandwich. He pulled out a pad of paper and jotted a few things. “It’s for my column,” he said.

“Great, we’re going to be famous,” Hayley said, chuckling.

One of Jeff’s dreams was to be a writer, and with the help of the local newspaper he had become one. “Jeff’s Diary” carried his weekly thoughts and experiences. Sometimes it was funny, other times sad. Everybody I knew read it, even if they didn’t read anything else in the paper.

Bryce seemed focused on the haunted house.

“See any ghosts?” Hayley said.

Bryce turned, his face pale. “I thought I saw someone in that upstairs window.”