She opened the passenger side door and stopped. Sitting in the seat was Chowder’s body. His ghost was there too, of course.
“What’s he doing here?”
“I thought he might help.”
“How?” She tossed her backpack onto the backseat and put Chowder on her lap, both physically and spiritually.
Gran shrugged and backed out of the spot. “I thought maybe he could sniff out the anchor.”
Mary was skeptical that the little dog would be useful, but she kept it to herself. She looked at the top of his head. He was ‘in’ his body. He did that if he was being held. She gave him a scratch behind the ears. He gave a happy pant but finished it with a little whine. She wasn’t sure what he could be begging for, but she figured it out after a second as she looked out the window. She rolled it down and stuck his head out. The wind blew his fur back, but that was all that moved on him. Gran couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, but she couldn’t hear his happy panting or feel his squirming glee. He was enjoying every second of the car ride. As she patted his back, she realized Chowder was very spoiled.
Mrs. Beadley’s home was at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. The front yard was tidy with pretty flowerboxes lining the walkway. Mary followed Gran up the path. She had Chowder cradled to her chest. He panted happily against her face. He was still in his body. The whole day was turning out to be a real treat for him, but if he tried to lick her face one more time, she was going to put him back in the car and not leave a window cracked.
Mrs. Beadley was waiting for them. She waved, and Gran waved back like they were eagerly expected friends coming for a visit. Mrs. Beadley wore saucer-sized glasses with bright blue frames. Her white hair was tightly curled and her head came up to Mary's shoulders.
“Mrs. Dubont, hello!” Mrs. Beadley smiled and held the door open for them.
“Hello to you, Mrs. Beadley. How are you?”
“Fair. He’s been rather quiet. I think he knows how displeased I am and is hiding like a sullen, little boy.”
“Well, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter Mary. She’s very sensitive to ghosts.”
Mrs. Beadley adjusted her glasses to better peer at her. “Oh how nice, and who is that you’ve got there?” Mrs. Beadley reached out as if to pet Chowder.
She held him up. “This is our dog. We’re hoping he can help, too.” Mrs. Beadley’s hand stopped short of touching him. Her face froze, and she slowly drew her hand back as she realized that Chowder was a stuffed dog.
“How will he help?” Her voice cracked, and she coughed to clear it.
“We’re hoping he’ll sniff out your husband’s anchor.”
“Sniff out?”
“He’s a ghost, too,” Gran supplied.
Mrs. Beadley nodded, but it was clear she was having difficulty handling all of this. They may have sprung too much weirdness on her. “What do you need to do?” Mrs. Beadley asked.
Seeing her discomfort, Gran went to her side and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We’re just going to try and talk to him today. That’s all.”
Gran looked over at Mary and nodded her head toward the living room. Mary stepped into the room and quickly scanned it. She couldn’t feel anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Beadley wasn’t lurking about. She set Chowder down and whispered, “Go find the ghost.” She felt Chowder leave his body, which made her hands tingle. She imagined he was sniffing around like a dog would do. She had no clue if he’d understood what she’d asked or if he was just exploring.
She looked back at Gran and shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she wasn’t picking up anything. Gran guided Mrs. Beadley into the room and helped her into a cushioned chair. She drew another up for herself and gently took the woman’s hands.
“Tell me about the last incident.”
Mrs. Beadley nodded. “Okay. What happened was, Mr. Connor came by to fix a short in the chandelier.” She raised her eyes briefly
“What’s he doing here?”
“I thought he might help.”
“How?” She tossed her backpack onto the backseat and put Chowder on her lap, both physically and spiritually.
Gran shrugged and backed out of the spot. “I thought maybe he could sniff out the anchor.”
Mary was skeptical that the little dog would be useful, but she kept it to herself. She looked at the top of his head. He was ‘in’ his body. He did that if he was being held. She gave him a scratch behind the ears. He gave a happy pant but finished it with a little whine. She wasn’t sure what he could be begging for, but she figured it out after a second as she looked out the window. She rolled it down and stuck his head out. The wind blew his fur back, but that was all that moved on him. Gran couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, but she couldn’t hear his happy panting or feel his squirming glee. He was enjoying every second of the car ride. As she patted his back, she realized Chowder was very spoiled.
Mrs. Beadley’s home was at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. The front yard was tidy with pretty flowerboxes lining the walkway. Mary followed Gran up the path. She had Chowder cradled to her chest. He panted happily against her face. He was still in his body. The whole day was turning out to be a real treat for him, but if he tried to lick her face one more time, she was going to put him back in the car and not leave a window cracked.
Mrs. Beadley was waiting for them. She waved, and Gran waved back like they were eagerly expected friends coming for a visit. Mrs. Beadley wore saucer-sized glasses with bright blue frames. Her white hair was tightly curled and her head came up to Mary's shoulders.
“Mrs. Dubont, hello!” Mrs. Beadley smiled and held the door open for them.
“Hello to you, Mrs. Beadley. How are you?”
“Fair. He’s been rather quiet. I think he knows how displeased I am and is hiding like a sullen, little boy.”
“Well, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter Mary. She’s very sensitive to ghosts.”
Mrs. Beadley adjusted her glasses to better peer at her. “Oh how nice, and who is that you’ve got there?” Mrs. Beadley reached out as if to pet Chowder.
She held him up. “This is our dog. We’re hoping he can help, too.” Mrs. Beadley’s hand stopped short of touching him. Her face froze, and she slowly drew her hand back as she realized that Chowder was a stuffed dog.
“How will he help?” Her voice cracked, and she coughed to clear it.
“We’re hoping he’ll sniff out your husband’s anchor.”
“Sniff out?”
“He’s a ghost, too,” Gran supplied.
Mrs. Beadley nodded, but it was clear she was having difficulty handling all of this. They may have sprung too much weirdness on her. “What do you need to do?” Mrs. Beadley asked.
Seeing her discomfort, Gran went to her side and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We’re just going to try and talk to him today. That’s all.”
Gran looked over at Mary and nodded her head toward the living room. Mary stepped into the room and quickly scanned it. She couldn’t feel anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Beadley wasn’t lurking about. She set Chowder down and whispered, “Go find the ghost.” She felt Chowder leave his body, which made her hands tingle. She imagined he was sniffing around like a dog would do. She had no clue if he’d understood what she’d asked or if he was just exploring.
She looked back at Gran and shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she wasn’t picking up anything. Gran guided Mrs. Beadley into the room and helped her into a cushioned chair. She drew another up for herself and gently took the woman’s hands.
“Tell me about the last incident.”
Mrs. Beadley nodded. “Okay. What happened was, Mr. Connor came by to fix a short in the chandelier.” She raised her eyes briefly
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