Ghostly Blue (eBook)

CHAPTER 1

Sam sat on his haunches, trying to concentrate on the tidal pool in front of him. He was supposed to be helping his parents with their research, but his mind kept wandering back to last summer. They’d been up the coast in Safe Harbor, North Carolina, when he discovered that ghosts really do exist. They’d actually spoken to him and asked for his help! It was hard to believe it happened, especially since he hadn’t seen or heard a ghost since then. Maybe it had been a one-time thing. Or maybe he could only see them in Safe Harbor. Sam shook his head. He had so many questions, and if there was one thing he hated, it was not knowing the answers.

“I see you shaking your head,” Sam’s mom said, walking through the shallow water towards him. “Did you lose count of the crabs again?”

“I did. Sorry, Mom.”

“That’s okay. I imagine the fact that Rocky’s coming today has you a little distracted.”

“It does,” Sam replied, relieved she’d come up with her own explanation for his distraction. Neither his mom nor dad knew he could see and talk to ghosts, and he wanted to keep it that way. “It would’ve been nice if Eliza and Libby had their spring break this week too. We’re going to video chat with them though.” Sam’s phone dinged. “It’s Rocky. He says he’ll be here around one o’clock.”

His mom checked her watch. “Why don’t we go ahead and break for lunch? That way you’ll be back at camp when he arrives.”

“That works for me,” Sam’s dad said, walking over from a nearby tidal pool. “I’m always ready to eat.”

Sam stood and stretched, eager to get back to camp and see his friend Rocky again. Before last summer, he didn’t know what having friends was like. That changed when Rocky, Eliza, and Libby helped him solve a ghostly mystery in Safe Harbor, North Carolina. And now, even though the girls lived in North Carolina, Rocky in Texas, and Sam wherever his parents’ research took them, they all made sure to keep in touch. When Sam mentioned he was coming to Charleston, South Carolina, Rocky convinced his aunt and uncle that it would be the perfect place to visit over his spring break.

Sam helped pack up the cameras, tools, and iPads, then slipped on his backpack.

“Do you have any activities scheduled?” Sam’s mom asked.

“Not yet,” Sam said, thinking if he’d stuck to his scheduled activities last summer instead of going along with what Rocky wanted to do, he wouldn’t have seen any ghosts. “I have some ideas, but I want to see what Rocky wants to do.”

“Whatever you choose, I’m sure it will be more exciting than counting crabs,” his mom said with a chuckle.

Sam nodded as he surveyed the salt marsh his parents were researching. Tidal water flowed inland from the ocean, winding around small islands of tall grasses. A great blue heron was stalking prey on its matchstick legs, while an osprey crossed the sky above, gliding on the inland breeze. Sam took a deep breath and smiled. Everything was so peaceful and beautiful. Maybe he and Rocky would just enjoy exploring the marshlands and Charleston without any ghosts. His smile faded when he remembered his parents’ concern about a developer destroying the whole marsh’s ecosystem. “Mom, have you learned anything else about who bought the land upstream?”

“No. All we have is a rumor about an owner selling his land bordering the salt marsh. There are so many lots, it’s hard to pinpoint which one it is. And with it being a private sale, there aren’t any town records.”

“Are you still talking about who bought the land?” Sam’s dad asked.

“Yes. I’m worried that the buyer will develop the land and ruin the salt marsh. Aren’t you?” Sam asked.

“No. One of the most important things I’ve learned in life is to not waste time worrying, especially over things you have no control over. This is one of those things,” his dad said, leading the way back to camp.

Sam knew his dad was right. He also knew there would be no further discussion unless they had new data. That was just the way his dad worked.

He followed his parents through the shallow tidal pools and past waving grasses, sighing with relief when they reached the cool shade of the towering loblolly pine and palmetto trees bordering the marsh. They turned off into the woods, following a trail covered with a spongy carpet of pine needles. Each step released a Christmas-like scent into the air as they walked deeper into the woods. The squish of their water shoes added to the chorus of croaking frogs and buzzing insects. After about a quarter of a mile, the trail branched, and they followed a narrow trail to their campsite.

Sam was amazed at how his dad always seemed to find them the perfect campsite. This one had a wooden platform to pitch their oversized dark-green tent on. The platform gave them an even surface to set their cots on and kept them dryer if it rained. There were also shade trees spaced just right for hanging their hammock.

As soon as they got there, Sam’s dad started uploading the morning’s data, while his mom pulled sandwich fixings from the cooler. Sam set out metal camp plates and refilled their water bottles from the large orange water cooler at the end of the picnic table.

After a lunch filled with discussions about tidal pools and Rocky’s upcoming visit, his parents headed back to the salt marsh. Sam grabbed his map of the Charleston area from his backpack and flopped into the hammock. Unfolding it, he looked over the attractions he’d marked to visit. The plantations and historical sites that had sounded interesting when he’d read about them now sounded boring. He’d show the map to Rocky, confident he’d find them something interesting to see.

Swaying in the hammock, Sam closed his eyes and let his mind circle back to his questions about ghosts. The last time he’d seen one was in Safe Harbor, seven months ago. He’d been trying to figure out why he hadn’t seen one since then. First, he thought it could have been the specific longitude and latitude of Safe Harbor. But he’d been at that location for a few days before he saw the first ghost, so that didn’t make sense. Then he checked for any unusual alignments of the planets, but couldn’t find one for that time period. He researched multiple accounts of people seeing ghosts too, but none of their stories matched his. So far, he hadn’t found any explanation for his situation. He needed more data but didn’t know where to look for it.

“Hey, Buddy! You gonna sleep all day?” Rocky called out.

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he rolled out of the hammock to greet Rocky with a high-five.

“Your dad picked out some great campsites,” Rocky said, looking around. “I’m glad I’m right next door so I can keep a close eye on you.”

“Me?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. You,” Rocky answered, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. “I wanna be around when any ghosts come calling. You still haven’t seen or talked to any?”

“No. I haven’t even felt the slightest tingle,” Sam said. “You?”

“Nope, but I only saw them after you did. But that’s more than Eliza and Libby, who only saw them the last day. They never even heard them talk. It was you the ghosts wanted to talk to. Still, it’s weird that you haven’t seen or heard any ghosts since then. You’d think there’d be plenty of other ghosts that want your help.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing, but haven’t come up with a definitive explanation as to why,” Sam said.

“Well, if you can’t go into the ghost-helping business, at least you’ve got those smarts of yours to fall back on,” Rocky teased.

Sam laughed. “It’s not like helping ghosts was ever on my list of career choices.”

“You can always join me in the treasure-hunting business,” Rocky said. “I did a little research about any treasure that might be around here, but didn’t find anything worth hunting for. ‘Course, I wouldn’t mind if we just happened to run across one.”

Sam laughed. “I think the odds of that happening are pretty slim. For now, how about we go for a bike ride and I’ll show you what’s around,” he said, pointing to the bikes his parents had rented for them.

“That’s a great idea. After being cooped up in an RV for two days, I’m ready to go do something! Let me text my uncle.”

While Rocky texted, Sam checked the bike tires one last time.

“I reckon you already checked out the gears and brakes?” Rocky asked, with a grin.

“You know I did,” Sam responded, grateful he could be his own quirky self around Rocky. Sam retrieved the map from the hammock and spread it out on the picnic table. “Before we go riding around, I want to show you some of the places we could go this week.”

“What’s this one?” Rocky asked, pointing to a blue dot on the map.

“It’s a restored indigo plantation. They have demonstrations on how they used to grow and process indigo.”

“Indigo. Isn’t that some kind of fabric dye?” Rocky...