I never really knew my dad before he died. He left when I was a baby, and apart from cards on my birthday, he never really contacted me or my mom. Apparently, he had a note in his pocket saying that if anything happened to him, they should contact my mom. We only found that out after Dad died, and the man who’d discovered his body called Mom and told her that her husband was dead. Mom was confused until she realized that the man was talking about Dad. We went to Dad’s hometown for the funeral. It was so strange. All of Dad’s family was there. His parents and siblings, all there with their kids. I didn’t even know Dad had siblings. They all knew who I was, though. They told me that Dad talked about me all the time and that I looked just like him. But I knew that was a lie. At least, the part about him talking about me was. That was always one of the two strange things about me. I can always tell when someone’s lying. It isn’t the best skill to have, especially at school or dinners with mom’s friends. And it isn’t always very straightforward, but it’s cool. After the funeral, mom talked to dad’s sister and mom, my aunts, and grandmother. She’d cried when she saw, pulled me into a huge hug, and told me to call her Nanna. My grandfather, Poppy, had hugged me and told me how much he’d missed me. That was true. Anyway, after the funeral, while mom talked, I wandered around the cemetery, looking at the graves. The grave next to Dad's was for a man named Edward Keaton. He’d died from being axed to the head while wearing a hard hat. I thought it was a strange way to die. Edward Keaton did too. He was sitting on his gravestone making faces during the entire funeral. I had a really hard time not rolling my eyes at him. That’s the other strange thing about me. I can see ghosts. It’s a little like being the kid in The Sixth Sense. Except ghosts do know they’re dead, and I never had a nice ghost psychologist played by Bruce Willis. I wish I did, but no such luck. No one knows about my abilities except my best friend, Michela. Not even my mom or other two best friends, Anna and Juan, know. Anyway, after the funeral and all the “I love you’s” and “Stay in touch’s” from dad’s family, mom and I went home to Hollow Creek. I don’t know why it’s called that. There’s no creek and no hollow. There’s a waterfall, but I wouldn’t consider it a creek. But it’s home. I was moving on with my life, going to school, helping out at my mom’s bakery, taking photos around town, watching horror movies, and reading murder mysteries. But once again, nothing in my life is normal. Two months after Dad died, a package showed up addressed to me, Luke Cohen. And it was from Dad.

******

“Luke!” Mom called from the kitchen. I got up from my desk, saving my place in Talk To Me, and walked downstairs. Mom was standing by the counter, holding a cardboard box.

“Package for you.” She said, handing me the box. It was large and fairly heavy with strange symbols drawn on it in black Sharpie.

“Who’s it from?” I asked, weighing the box in my hand. Mom shrugged.

“It doesn’t say.” She replied. “I gotta head out for a minute. Abby just called. Chester’s acting up again.” Chester is what Mom and I call her stubborn old oven at the bakery. He tended to sputter out and stop working. I think he’s like an old train engine, always needing someone to monitor him. Mom always says Chester’s more like a toddler, always needing someone watching to make sure he doesn’t destroy the bakery. Either way, Chester is in trouble. I smirked at Mom.

“Better go add more coal.” I joked. Mom smiled and grabbed her car keys.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Time to go give the baby his bottle. Don’t open that package until I get back.”

“Kay, Mom.” I said.

“Hey, when I get back, we’re watching The Usual Suspects.” Mom added. I smiled at her. She ruffled my hair and went outside. See, the thing is, when mom tells me not to do something, that’s the one thing I am definitely going to do. So, the second mom pulled out of the driveway, and I was tearing into the box. It was full of some of the strangest things I’d ever seen. A dagger with intricate carvings on the handle that appeared to be made of silver, a jar of salt, a small device with a dial on the screen, and what appeared to be some kind of flare, like the emergency flares on boats. There was an envelope too, with a blue wax stamp in the middle. I picked it up and peeled off the wax. There was a handwritten letter in the envelope, written in blue ink.

Dear Luke

So, if you’re reading this, I’m dead. Sorry about that. And I’m sorry I wasn’t really there for you growing up. I know I probably should’ve been. I’m probably a pretty lousy excuse for a father. But I do hope you know I really do love you. And your mom. My dear Elizabeth. The things in this box were mine. Look, at midnight on Friday, it doesn’t matter what Friday, just any Friday, go to the hollow and put the five runestones (the rocks in the box) in a circle. It doesn’t matter what order. And just… sit there, I guess. You’ll understand soon. I’ll see you soon. I love you.

Love Dad

PS. Don’t show this to your mom. She’d cut my head off my already dead body and string the rest up like a scarecrow. Well, not really, but she’d be really mad.

I took a deep breath and put the letter down on the kitchen counter. It was Saturday, seven days until Friday. It was strange that the letter mentioned the hollow. Because like I said earlier, there’s no hollow in Hollow Creek. How did Dad even know about that? Mom and I moved here from Portland when I was ten, a long time after Dad left. He even still sent birthday cards for me to our old address (the people there would forward them to us). And what did he mean by “I’ll see you soon?” Did Dad know about ghosts? I was so confused, but then I remembered what Mom said about not opening the box. And the Usual Suspects. And if she came home and found an open box, we wouldn’t be able to watch the movie. I gathered everything except the rocks in my arms and hid them under my bed, including the letter. I then taped the box back up and went back to my movie. So when mom came home later that night after wrestling with Chester, covered in frosting and carrying a box of chocolate cupcakes (my favorites), she didn’t suspect anything and called me into the kitchen to open the box. I walked in, and Mom used a knife to open the box. Mom weighed the rocks skeptically in her hand.

“Must be some kind of prank,” I said, hoping Mom would believe it. I guess since I can always tell when people are lying, I figured out how to tell a pretty good lie myself. Mom shrugged.

“I guess so.” She replied. “Maybe from Michela. You have been saying she’s been meaning to get back at you for that big prank you pulled on her two weeks ago. You want them?”

“Sure,” I answered. “Might be able to take some cool photos with them.” Mom handed them to me.

“Knock yourself out.” She said, “I’m gonna make dinner and then we can watch the movie.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked. Mom smiled.

“I was thinking… pizza quesadillas?” She replied. I smiled, nodded, and went to my room.

******

I was lying on my back, staring at the star chart I have on my ceiling, when Jack, Addie, Elias, and Margaret came into the room. I’ve known them since I moved here five years ago. Jack was dressed in his army uniform, still smattered with blood after he died in France in 1944. He always says he took ten nazis with him when he died, but I don’t really believe that. I think it was more like five. He’s always been like a big brother to me, teaching me how to fight when I came home with a black eye and helping me with my math homework while mom’s working. Elias was wearing his cheap factory clothes from the 1890s. He had a couple of cuts on his arms after he died in a steel factory accident of some kind. He’d moved to America from Russia. Came through Ellis Island. He doesn’t remember much about his death, just screaming and searing pain. He loves detective movies. Anything with Sherlock Holmes. He doesn’t talk much, but he sees everything, so when he does say something, you listen. Addie was as pale as a sheet with sunken eyes and a dark blue dress. She’d died from what she called a brain disease (I’m pretty sure it was some kind of cancer) in the 1860s. Jack is teaching her how to read, and she’s one of the sweetest people I know. She’s almost like the little sister I never had. Margaret was constantly dripping wet after drowning on the Titanic in 1912. She’d been in third class and was one of the kids who didn’t make it off the ship. She’s from Ireland (was in the process of immigrating to America) and has a very thick Irish accent. She always says exactly what she’s thinking.

“Evening, Luke.” She said with a grin. I gave her a small smile back.

“Hey, guys.” I greeted my friends, sitting up on the bed. Jack walked over and sat down beside me.

“What’s going on?” He asked. “You look like someone just destroyed your freshly painted fence. And I should know. That happened to me right before I left for war. It was…”

“Billy Finigan with his little blue bike.” I finished for him. “You’ve told that story about a million times.”

“Still rings true.” He replied. Jack said that a lot. “So, what’s going on?” I sighed.

“I got a package,” I replied. “From my dad.”

“Your dad,” Jack repeated. Jack never liked my dad, even though he never met him. He didn’t like that my dad left me and my mom alone. I mean, I didn’t like it either, but Jack hated it. I think he feels guilty. His father died when he was a kid, and then he left for war. I think he feels guilty that he went to war and never came back. But he never told me, so it’s just speculation. I nodded at Jack.

“Your dead, absent dad?” Elias asked. I nodded and pulled out the things and the letter from under my bed, along with Dad’s last card for my birthday, written in the same handwriting with a blue pen. Margaret picked them both up and scanned them over. She’s always been good at recognizing handwriting, even when she was alive. She nodded slowly and handed them back to me.

“They’re from the same person.” She confirmed.

“How is that possible?” Addie asked. I shrugged.

“Maybe he asked someone to send it after he died. Or maybe he’s a ghost.” I suggested.

“If he’s a ghost, then he should come see you, not send a weird letter. Let me see that.” Jack picked up the letter and scanned it. He sighed and put it back down next to me. He leaned back on his elbows.

“Friday, huh?” He asked.

“Dad wants me to go to the hollow on Friday and put those rocks in a circle. And I guess something’s supposed to happen. I don’t know.” I explained.

“Think you’ll go?” Jack asked.

“I think I should,” I said. “But there’s no hollow here.”

“Sure, there is.” Elias piped up. “It’s behind the waterfall.”

“And you never told us?” Margaret fake gasped. Elias shrugged. 

“You never asked.” He said.

“I think I’ll go,” I said. “See what happens. I mean, I didn’t know Dad very well, but if he went through the trouble of sending me this from beyond the grave, might as well see what the deal with it is.”

“We’ll come if you want us to,” Addie told me.

“Really?” I asked. Jack ruffled my hair.

“Yeah, Lukey.” He replied. “We got your back.” He stood up and sat on top of my desk.

“Let’s figure out what the deal with these ducrots is.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I said. Jack is always using those old army terms he learned at West Point.

“Me neither,” Jack replied. “But let’s find out.”