Megan Stine_Jeffery & the Third-Grade Ghost 01 (4 page)

“Come on, you guys, stop fooling around,” Jeffrey said with a nervous laugh. “I told Max he could be on our team.”

“Fine. When he gets here, he can be on the team,” Melissa said.

“He
is
here!” Jeffrey shouted. He didn’t know why his friends were playing this stupid game, but he wanted them to stop. “Max, say something.”

“Bad scene, Daddy-o. I forgot to tell you I’m invisible to everyone but you,” Max said with a laugh.

“Oh, no.” Jeffrey moaned. “You mean that only I can see and hear you?” Jeffrey turned back to his friends. “Listen, you guys aren’t going to believe this.”

“That’s nothing new,” Ben said.

Jeffrey tried to explain it in his calmest voice.
“There’s a ghost in my desk at school. His name is Max. And he came to the game with me. He’s standing right here, but I’m the only one who can see him. You guys believe me, don’t you?”

“Sure we believe you,” Ben said. “Aren’t you the same guy who said you were teaching penguins how to speak French?”

“Yeah, and aren’t you the same guy who told us when your mom cooked liver, it tasted just like chocolate pudding?” asked Kenny.

“Yuck—I haven’t been able to eat chocolate pudding ever since,” Melissa said.

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Jeffrey said. “But you guys are wrong. Max is here.”

“Can we play some baseball?” Ben said.

The game continued and the Beefrolls played their best. But it wasn’t enough. The Lions were too tough. At the top of the ninth inning, the score was Lions, 11, and the Beefrolls, 10. This was the Beef-rolls’ last chance.

But Jeffrey could hardly keep his mind on the game. He was sitting on the bench and Max was sitting next to him. “
I
can see you,” he said. “Why can’t they? They’re my best friends.”

“That’s for me to know and for you to cool out,” Max said.

“Jeffrey, you’re up next,” Melissa called. “Unless
Max
is pinch-hitting.”

Jeffrey walked to the plate with his bat and faced the Lion’s pitcher for the last time. The pitcher looked big and mean. He had to be in the sixth grade at least.

Before Jeffrey even had his bat ready, the first ball went flying past him.

“Strike one!”

The next pitch went by so fast it hurt the catcher’s hand.

“Strike two!”

“But who’s counting?” Jeffrey said, trying to joke. He looked at second base. There was Kenny Thompsen, waiting. If Kenny could get to home plate, the game would be tied.

Jeffrey looked back at the pitcher and he couldn’t believe what he saw. There was Max standing right behind the pitcher! Max had a beat-up, old baseball glove on. But, of course, only Jeffrey could see him. As the pitcher went into his windup, Max gave him a small shove. The ball came toward Jeffrey as slowly as a paper airplane. And when Jeffrey swung his bat, he connected.

It was a line drive toward third base. Jeffrey ran to first, and the third baseman sprang to catch the
ball. Except Max was right there. He stuck his foot out and tripped the third baseman. Then Max picked up the ball and threw it into the outfield.

By the time the Lions pulled themselves together, Kenny and Jeffrey had both reached home plate. And Jeffrey had scored the go-ahead run!

But the next three Beefroll batters struck out. Then the Lions came up to bat. Soon the Lions had two runners on base.

“Well, Jeffrey,” Max said, walking up to Jeffrey in right field. “It’s been a blast. But it couldn’t last.”

“What does that mean?” Jeffrey asked.

“See ya later, alligator.” Max tossed his glove to Jeffrey.

The leather glove was grimy and soft in all the right places. Someone had broken it in. There were names written on the glove in different colored inks. Duke Snider. Willie Mays. Pee Wee Reese. Roy Campanella. Real autographs from some of the all-time greatest baseball players! “Hey, where did you get this glove, Max?” Jeffrey asked. But when he looked up, Max was gone.

Crack! Another fly ball. It sounded like a home run. It looked like a home run. Jeffrey watched it and knew it was going to sail over his head. And if it did, the Lions would win the ball game.

Jeffrey took off, running as fast as he could. He
knew he didn’t have a chance, but he stretched out his left hand, the hand with the glove on it. Suddenly, the glove seemed to lift him off the ground. It carried him like a missile toward the flying baseball. The next thing Jeffrey knew, he was on the ground and the baseball was in his glove!

The game was over and the Beefrolls had won! The whole team crowded around Jeffrey, who was sitting on the ground. They gave each other high-fives and pounded Jeffrey on the back.

“How did you do that?” Melissa asked.

“I didn’t,” Jeffrey said, still in shock. “The glove did.”

Kenny looked at the old glove carefully. “Whose glove is it, anyway?” he asked.

“Max’s,” Jeffrey said.

“Okay, okay, it’s Max’s,” said Ben, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “So why don’t you give it back to him now?”

“I can’t. He’s gone.”

“Well, when are you going to see him again?” asked Melissa.

“I don’t know,” Jeffrey said. “Maybe he’ll be right back.”

“Right.” Ricky Reyes smiled. “But I’m not waiting around.”

“Come on, Jeffrey,” Ben said, seeing everyone
leave. “We’re all going to my house for a winners’ party. Then everyone’s going to help me take out the trash.”

“In a minute,” Jeffrey said.

The winning Beefrolls packed up their stuff and left the field. But Jeffrey stayed back. Standing by himself, he looked up and down the empty field. He was hoping to see Max. Suddenly, he got a feeling that he didn’t like. Maybe this time Max wouldn’t be right back. Maybe not even for a long time.

Jeffrey kicked the dirt. It was bad enough that no one believed he had met a real ghost. But now Max had disappeared.

What if Max was gone for good?

The number of days since Max had disappeared was adding up. Three, seven, ten—then two weeks! Every day Jeffrey woke up hoping that he’d see his friend again. And every day he was disappointed. No Max in his desk at school. No Max on the playground. After the third day, Jeffrey stopped opening his desk fifty times an hour. But he didn’t stop hoping.

Finally, one morning, Jeffrey got out of bed and found a surprise. His bedroom slippers were walking around the room all by themselves!

“Max!” Jeffrey shouted.

Slowly, feet appeared in the walking slippers. Then, all of a sudden, Max showed up. He was wearing a new plaid shirt and a new pair of jeans.

“This house is a groove,” said the ghost. “You’ve even got a TV set in the kitchen. I dig all the buttons on it, but the picture’s too small.”

“Max, that’s not a TV set. That’s our microwave oven,” Jeffrey said. “Where have you been? I’ve
been looking everywhere for you. And I haven’t been able to get a detention for a week.”

“Try harder. I used to be able to get a detention without even saying a word,” was all that Max would say.

Max dropped in and out for the next couple of days. It drove Jeffrey crazy. Just when he and Max were right in the middle of a game of checkers or a videotape, Max would leave. And the worst part was that he would never say where he had been, where he was going, or when he’d be back.

On Saturday morning, one week before Melissa’s birthday party, Max found Jeffrey sitting sadly on his bed.

“What’s shaking, Jeffrey?” Max asked.

Jeffrey looked at Max and said just one word: “Shopping.” To most people it was a simple, common, ordinary word. But to Jeffrey it was a nightmare. “I have to go shopping with my mom. We’re going to get my new winter coat.” He shook his head. “Something weird happens to my mom when she tries to buy a coat for me.”

What Jeffrey meant was that Mrs. Becker was never satisfied. She shopped and shopped until she found the most perfect winter coat in the entire known universe. It usually meant that Jeffrey had to try on every coat in the store.

“Bad scene,” Max said.

“Dragsville.” Jeffrey sighed.

“Don’t sweat it,” Max said. “I’ll pick out the coat.”

“Great!” Jeffrey said.

But when they got into the store, Jeffrey’s heart sank. The heat was on, full blast. Even Max couldn’t “cool out” here.

“Hey, Mom. It’s one hundred and ninety degrees in here,” Jeffrey said. “I think the boiler’s on the fritz. We’d better get out before it explodes.”

“No dice, Jeffrey,” Mrs. Becker said. “Now, let’s see. Are you a size ten or a twelve? We’d better try both sizes of every coat, just to be sure.”

In record time Jeffrey was trying on heavy coats in the hot store. It was the worst. His mother knelt on the floor to get a good look at him.

“Too short,” she said of a beige one. “Wrong color,” she said of the Day-Glo orange coat. “Too tight in the shoulders,” she said, tossing away a green coat with a furry collar.

But while Mrs. Becker was choosing coats for Jeffrey, Max walked around the store doing his own shopping. “Hey, Jeffrey,” Max called, pointing to a coat. “Dig this one!” Max dropped it on top of the coat pile.

It was black leather dotted with silver studs and
with a dozen zippered pockets. Jeffrey put it on.

“Coolsville,” said Max.

“Jeffrey, take that off immediately. You look like a snow tire with chains,” Mrs. Becker said. “Try the blue one on again.”

Jeffrey tried on the blue one again. And then a red one. And a tan one and a ski parka with a removable hood. In between those coats, however, he tried on coats picked out by Max. Every time Mrs. Becker turned her back, Max would hand Jeffrey a cool coat.

By the third leather coat with silver zippers, Mrs. Becker was beginning to get mad.

“I didn’t pick that one out,” she said, seeing her son in a brown leather bomber jacket. “How did it get in the pile?”

“Tell your mom to buy it,” Max said. “It’s cooler than cool.”

“Take it off,” Mrs. Becker said. “It’s ridiculous.” She handed Jeffrey a coat with a weird hood.

“You look like a rabbit,” said Max.

“Well,” his mother finally said. “It’s between these three coats. Try them on, Jeffrey.”

“Again?” Jeffrey said. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just brought an instant camera and took my picture?”

“It would be easier if we were born with fur like
the bears. Then we’d never have to buy coats,” Mrs. Becker said. “What about the red one?”

“I
hate
the red one,” Jeffrey said.

“Let’s see it on you again.”

Jeffrey frowned as he tried it on again.

Suddenly, Mrs. Becker’s eyes grew large. “I didn’t see that before,” she said. “There’s a big blob of bubble gum on the sleeve! How did that get there?”

Jeffrey looked at Max, who just laughed. Then Max blew a bubble with a new piece of gum.

“Take it off,” Mrs. Becker said. “We can’t buy it now.”

“Gee, that’s too bad, Mom,” Jeffrey said. And he gave Max a big thank-you smile.

Max was getting antsy. “When I went shopping,” he bragged, “I told my old lady exactly which coat I wanted to buy. Dig?”

“And what happened?” Jeffrey asked.

Max sighed. “She bought the coat
she
wanted.”