Pleasing the Ghost by Sharon Creech Page B

was one of Uncle Arvie and his wife, Julia.
    â€œOh, Heartfoot,” he said. “Oh, oh, Heartfoot.” He hugged the picture and kissed it.
    â€œ She’s not in heaven,” I was glad to report. “Aunt Julia’s fine!”
    â€œOh, Heartfoot.” He put the picture back and turned suddenly. “Please,” he begged. “Three pleases.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Uncle Arvie held up four fingers, looked at them, and then pushed one back down. Three fingers wiggled.
    â€œThree what?” I asked. It looked as if Uncle Arvie wanted three things, but I had no idea what he might want. “Food?”
    â€œNod—”
    â€œMoney?”
    â€œNod, nod—”
    â€œClothes?”
    â€œNod, nod, nod—” He waggled his fingers in my face.
    â€œNail clippers?”
    â€œNod!” Uncle Arvie glanced pitifully at his fingers.
    â€œMaybe I’ll understand in the morning,” I said. “You’ll be here in the morning, won’t you?” Some ghosts stay; some don’t.
    â€œYin!” he said.
    â€œGood. Then maybe we should get some sleep—”
    â€œStamp!” Uncle Arvie agreed. He lay down on my desk, with his long legs sticking straight out in the air over the edge, as if they were held up by something invisible. Soon he was snoring. Bo wiggled out from beneath the blanket, sniffed the air, and whimpered.
    â€œWell, Bo, we have a new ghost! Try to be brave.” I patted Bo’s head until he closed his eyes.
    There was no more wind. All was quiet except for the snoring of Uncle Arvie and Bo. The curtains hung straight against the window, and outside I could see the black sky and bright stars.
    I found a star, and on it I wished: “Uncle Arvie is a great ghost, don’t get me wrong. But still, I wish for—” I thought about what Uncle Arvie had called my father. “I wish for—for my pepperoni.”
    Uncle Arvie was thrashing this way and that in his sleep. He was still wearing his boots, clothes, and red hat. I was surprised that ghosts slept with their clothes on. I had thought maybe they had special white robes to sleep in.
    Maybe tomorrow I could figure out what Uncle Arvie meant by “three pleases.” Maybe I should tell my mother that his ghost was visiting. No. She would say that Uncle Arvie was in heaven. That there was no such thing as a ghost.

3
F IRST P LEASE

    I was so scared. I was running down a railroad track, faster and faster, and there was a terrible noise behind me. I turned, expecting to see a train barreling down on me, but it wasn’t a train. It was a gigantic Tyrannosaurus rex wearing a wig made of spaghetti. Someone was shouting, “Dinosaur! Dinosaur!”
    I sat straight up in bed. What a nightmare. What a relief to be safe—
    â€œDinosaur! Dinosaur!”
    Floating up near the ceiling was Uncle Arvie, calling me. Bo quivered underneath the blanket.
    â€œDinosaur!”
    â€œI’m awake,” I said.
    â€œGood carpet!”
    I looked down at the old, soiled carpet on my floor. It was not a good carpet at all.
    Uncle Arvie stretched his arms wide and breathed deeply. “Good carpet, Dinosaur!”
    â€œGood morning ?” I guessed.
    â€œGood carpet!”
    Bo thumped his tail, and the blanket flopped up and down. There was a knock at my door. “Dennis? You awake?”
    My heart wobbled. Would my mother be able to see Uncle Arvie? What would she say? Should I warn her?
    â€œYou’re up early for a Saturday, aren’t you?” she said. Bo bounded out of the bed and leaped up against her, wagging his tail and barking. “Easy, Bo, easy,” my mother said. “Looks like he’s ready for a walk, Dennis. Guess you’ll have to get up.”
    Uncle Arvie was standing behind my mother, smiling at her. “Macaroni,” Uncle Arvie said. “Feather macaroni.”
    â€œDid you hear that?” I asked