The Ferryman by Christopher Golden Page A

right; he studied the faces of the adults in the yard. Ralph Weiss was dead. He knew that, and doubted it not at all. David Bairstow did not believe in ghosts and he did not want to believe he could have been hallucinating, so he studied those faces closely, hoping that one of them would look even a little like Weiss. Enough to have suggested it to his subconscious.
    None of them resembled the dead man at all.
    Where the Kentons’ property ended there was a six-foot drop, reinforced by concrete, down to the lake. The water lapped against the retaining wall, flowing over two of the steps. There were no boats in the water, nothing at all save a kayaker all the way on the other side of the lake. It was still early in the year for sailing.
    David stared out at the lake for a long moment. Then he was startled by sixty pounds of human child colliding into him from the side. Panic surged through him as he nearly lost his footing. Both of them would have tumbled over the edge and into the shallow water if he had not thrown himself sideways just then.
    â€œYou’re it!” Lucas Kenton cried out joyfully.
    David laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, then set him aside and climbed to his feet. Then he reached out, tapped Lucas on the shoulder, and fled.
    â€œYou’re it!” he called back.
    Lucas shouted that it was no fair, but he was laughing so David thought that was all right. By the house, Geoff and Lily stood with a knockout redhead who looked much younger than any of them. Silently he cursed himself as he realized how rude it must have seemed, his just wandering off like that. As he approached, Lily whispered something to Geoff, and he felt guilty.
    â€œSorry about that,” he told Geoff. “Just thought I saw some hawks across the lake. They’re ... really interesting.”
    Geoff frowned. “Never took you for a bird-watcher.”
    But Lily brushed it off, obviously glad for any excuse to give her friend that was better than he-saw-you-coming-and-ran-like-hell. “I’ve never noticed hawks back here before,” she said. “I’ll have to keep an eye out. They are beautiful birds.”
    The redhead was even more stunning up close. She had green-blue eyes and a sweet smile. Her hair was braided in the back and her oval glasses gave her an intellectual air that David found very attractive.
    â€œHi. David Bairstow. I’m not usually such a flake.”
    â€œYes, he is,” Geoff put in.
    â€œSamantha Kresky.” She held out a hand and he shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
    â€œAll of it bad, I’m sure,” David replied.
    It was mild flirtation, but he was on autopilot.This was what Geoff and Lily expected of him, and he wanted to be polite. But his mind was elsewhere. Even if he were not still half in love—maybe more than half—with Janine, he was still rattled by what he thought he’d seen a moment ago, illusion or not.
    It was not as though he could tell his friends that, for just a moment, he had thought he had seen a dead man standing on their lawn. It had been someone else, he was sure, and his mind had superimposed the suggestion that the figure looked like Ralph Weiss. After all, the man was on his mind. His funeral had been the week before, and both Geoff and Lily had also been taught by him.
    But in that moment when the illusion had held, it had more than unnerved him; it had sent a chill through him that he still felt.
    The conversation went on, and David made every attempt to be pleasant, but his eyes were drawn, again and again, to the place where the ground fell away and the lake began. He could almost still see the figure standing there, like the spots a quick glance at the sun left upon his vision.
    Â 
Clouds began to gather in the early afternoon. By the time Annette picked Janine up, the day had turned gray and chilly, almost as though the beautiful morning had been an accident God now hurried to make