Ryan Avery is a young skeptic tired of living in the peculiar town of Wrenoakey, where ghost stories are as common as the wind. Residing at the renowned Bramble Farm with his ghost-enthusiast Aunt Hattie, Ryan is convinced her ghost tours are just e...
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"So the new Brambles will be here soon. That's kind of crazy, huh? Them moving in here to live with you?" Neema Pankowski padded about the Bramble kitchen wiping flour from her hands onto her jeans. Her long blond braids were wound up around her head and tied back with a dark yellow kerchief. Flour dusted her daisy print tee, and the kitchen smelled like some kind of pastry baking.
"Yeah. Crazy is a good word to describe it," Ryan said.
He was sitting at the worn yellow table by the kitchen windows, wiping dirt off his bare feet with an old rag. He had woken up at the car wash again without his shoes, and this troubled him.
"Did your morning run make you feel more calm? You ran barefoot, so you must feel a little more grounded."
Ryan shrugged and fell silent. He never felt "grounded". While he didn't believe in ghosts, he felt like he was plagued with some kind of bad luck or a curse. Or worse.
"I don't want these strangers moving in here," Ryan muttered, opening the laundry closet and dropping the rag in the dirty laundry bin.
"It might be okay, Ryan. Your aunt would never have done anything at all to put you in harm's way. She loved you. This half-brother of hers must be a good guy."
Ryan didn't agree, but he liked Neema too much to say anything.
He slunk back down at the kitchen table and watched the sun moving up over the barn, plagued with the thoughts of his sleepwalking problem.
"Well, I'm going to miss staying here with you," Neema said, placing a cup of rooty-smelling tea in front of him. "And I love this old kitchen. I never thought I'd cook in a purple and yellow kitchen. It's fabulous. I can feel Hattie's energy here."
"Her ghost?" Ryan asked.
Aunt Hattie's death had scrambled his feelings about ghosts. His logical side told him there was no such thing, but his aunt's death made him wish he was wrong. He'd even been keeping on her ghostboxes in his room hoping to hear her voice, but all he'd heard was static.
"No," Neema said in a contemplative voice, sitting across from Ryan with her own cup of tea. "I just feel the powerful energy of her in this house. Sometimes you don't notice how powerful a person is until they are gone."
Ryan took a sip of his tea and winced at the bitter taste.
"Sid and Ivy must be missing you being gone," Ryan offered.
Neema laughed. "Those two are likely up to all sorts of mischief while I am gone! And they are probably only eating ramen noodles and drinking rootbeer!"
Ryan laughed.
"So unhealthy!" She proclaimed as got up to take her pastries from the oven. "But you are lucky. I've made you some whole wheat blueberry scones."
