Springside at six a.m. is an incredible thing. I walk downtown because I don’t want to disturb the quiet with the barely muffled sound of my truck. I want to take in the air, gauge it, search for what should be there—and what shouldn’t.
Last night, Malcolm and I concluded that we might be missing some ghosts. The wild ones that haunt the old barn were absent. But, they’re unpredictable, and I don’t visit the site often enough to know their habits.
Fortunately, Sadie’s sprites are still in residence. These days, they spend most of their time at the long-term care facility. They amuse Mrs. Greeley, and Mr. Carlotta’s ghost keeps them in line. Queenie, as he calls her, was there too, a bit put out about her babysitting duties, but otherwise the same as always.
Of all the ghosts in Springsi
