“It works,” Tyler said, over and over. “The car really works. It purrs like a happy cat.” The space behind his ears hurt with something akin to delight. He laughed at himself — a latent poet, that’s what he was. He loved the feeling of making something work that had been broken and discarded. He loved being able to talk about it. “Princess can go back on the road. We’re quite a team, you and I, Haley. What’s next?”
“We are going to swim across the lake.” Haley parked the car on the flat ground above the path to the bay. “I’ve decided. If I’m going to finish the triathlon, I need to build up my endurance swimming.”
“Fine by me.” Thoughts of the two of them being together, swimming together, tumbled in Ty’s brain. His mouth felt dry and his hands clammy.
They both had their swim suits on under their work clothes. They changed by the giant rocks that ringed the beach. Haley folded her clothes neatly and put them on the broken-down old picnic table. Ty left his in a heap on the sand. He raised his eyes to see Haley waiting for him, her hands on her slim hips. She had a gold-coloured bikini that barely covered her breasts and bottom. She looked fabulous.
“Robin bought me a new swim suit in Benton. What do you think?”
“It’s great!” Ty couldn’t say out loud what he thought. He blushed. His heart raced. He glanced down at his baggy knee-knocking cut-offs. He probably looked like a doofus. “I could use a new one, I guess.”
“It’s not a competition. You look fine to me.” Haley turned and walked down to the water’s edge. Ty joined her. Suddenly he reached out, took her hand and raced into the lake. The water caressed his legs and his body. Haley didn’t let go of his hand until they surfaced and she stroked away.
They raced out into the lake and then turned and swam back to the rocks. They pulled themselves up, and sat side by side on the flattest of the boulders. Their arms touched. Drops of water sparkled on their skin, Haley’s brown arms and Ty’s reddish from all the work outdoors in short sleeves. They chatted about their love of water and the different beaches they had tried.
“Uncle Scott took Mom and I to a beach by Vancouver. It was great!” He studied Haley, admired her near-perfect torso. His heart felt squeezed in his chest.
“Mom takes us to the Barbados most winters to see Grandma and the cousins. Those beaches are incredible.” Her voice had a musical lilt that Ty loved to listen to.
Two seadoos raced by. A motorboat with a water skier swept along the far shore, kicking up foamy spray. A fishing boat rocked in the waves. An eagle floated on an updraft.
“Do you want to swim the lake with me?” Haley asked, breathless.
“We’ll need a boat, a driver, and a safety guy,” Ty said. “Maybe when my dad comes back from this latest logging job, he’ll take us out. There’s that fire over by Cranbrook, though. He may have to go and help fight that. I wish I was old enough.” Ty looked down. Even his feet seemed skinnier. “Where could we get a safety guy?”
“A safety guy?”
“We need an adult in the boat in case either one of us get into trouble out there,” Ty said. “That lake eats people. The bodies never rise.”
Haley shivered. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
Thirty minutes later after another swim they were stretched on the sand in the sheltered bay. Haley rolled onto her side and looked into Ty’s eyes. “You never did answer Basil very well. Why did you choose the Volkswagen? What made you think of it all of a sudden. It’s been parked there for four years after all.”
Ty chewed his bottom lip and drizzled sand through his fingers into a pile in front of him. A horsefly lit on his knuckle beside Uncle Scott’s gold ring. Ty’s mother had given it to him after the funeral. He turned and stared at Haley from under his bushy eyebrows. “You’ll laugh.”
Haley covered her face with her beach towel. “Just go ahead and tell me. I promise not to laugh. See, I’ll cover my head, just to make sure.”
Ty took the ring off and twirled it in his hand. Then he peered more closely at it. For a couple of years he’d had a roll of tape keeping it small enough for him to wear. Now he could wear it as it was. The initials inside were S.A. and beside them smudged the sign for “and” plus two other initials. They weren’t clear. He tucked the ring in the pocket of his cutoffs. “It will confirm your opinion that I’m weird. And you’ll laugh.”
“No, I won’t.” Haley tossed her towel away and propped herself on her elbow, her face close to his. He tossed sand at her. She cupped her free hand under his chin and pushed him over. They rolled together on the sandy beach, play wrestling, laughing like idiots. Sand got in their suits and all over the towels. Leo came snuffling at them, concerned about their giggles, wondering if they were in trouble.
Ty felt suddenly awkward. He liked being close to Haley but he wasn’t sure how close to get. His heart was pounding so loud he could hear it over the sound of an outboard motor and the ensuing waves on the beach.
Ty stood up and threw a piece of driftwood into the bay for Leo who had given up and sat with his jowls on his front paws, neglected in the shade of a rock.
“Come on, Ty. Tell me why you chose Princess. Didn’t we say we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other? You said you hate sitcoms where people get into trouble because they don’t share what’s going on. Isn’t that what Ralph and my aunt say about this whole valley? It’s got too many secrets.”
Ty sat on the biggest log that stretched across half the beach. The sand on it scratched his hairy leg. Slowly he told her about the lights flashing on and off and the ghost in the car and what he said. “He told me to fix it. So I’m doing that.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
Ty shook his head “no.” “I miss seeing him. But I still feel he’s around.”
“Who do you think he was? Your Uncle Scott?”
“I don’t know. He showed up on Uncle Scott’s birthday, but he was closer to my age.”
“How old was Scott when he started fixing the car?” Haley got up and threw another log for Leo.
“You don’t think I’m crazy or something do you, Hale?”
“No way. You probably needed a ghost to get you going. Look at what we’ve accomplished so far.”
Ty nodded. “We better get back to work.” Maybe he wasn’t as strange as he thought. It sure felt good to be able to tell someone stuff. That might be why his mom was doing better. She’d been talking to Robin Nixon. He’d heard his folks talking together in their bedroom late on Saturday night. His mother had even been talking to him a bit.
“I need a snack. Robin says your grandma makes the best cookies in the valley. Any hope of some at your house? No wonder you used to be tubby Tyler.”
Ty blushed. He liked the “used to be” in that sentence. More than the car was getting fixed.
He picked up his clothes and hopped in the driver’s seat, tossing the rumpled jeans and shirt in the back. Haley handed him the keys and he drove up the track slowly. He enjoyed every second of the way. He was driving. He, Tyler Graham, was driving his soon-to-be-really-his-own car, with a terrific girl beside him who really liked him. Man, it was great. The car purred along. Putt, putt, putt.
Ty was on top of the world.
Chapter 14
Just as they finished climbing the hill to the farmyard, the car started smoking. Two seconds later gas fumes and the stench of frying rubber and plastic enveloped the car. Tyler stopped in front of the garage and rushed to open the back. Flames rose. He grabbed a bucket of water and threw it on Princess. He turned the garden hose on her. Billows of smoke and steam rose in the air. The smell was gross. “Now we’ve done it.”
Haley dashed around to stand beside him at the rear of the car. “What happened?”
Ty picked up his work gloves and pulled them on. He hooked the back hatch open. Smoke billowed. The smell of singed wires made him cough. What had gone wrong? What did he forget to do?
He should have done a better job. He was really angry at himself. As Grandpa
would say, don’t ever get on a high horse because then you have further to fall. Ty said a few choice words to himself about his ability as a mechanic. He’d been feeling so good. Now this!
His grandfather drove into the yard. That’s all Ty needed. What a fine time to come. He wasn’t sure he was up to dealing with the old guy. Maybe his grandpa would be in a good mood. Maybe he could give him some advice. Ty could only hope. He stood up slowly and walked over to the pickup.
Grandma handed Ty a plate of cookies through the window. Maybe Ida Graham was psychic. Hadn’t Haley just asked for cookies? Veronica waved from the back seat. She was munching on a cookie. “Grandpa says the country’s goin’ to the dogs.”
“Shush, child,” Grandma whispered. The fragile look on her face told Ty lots about his grandpa’s current state of mind. He’s probably sounding off about the goldurn politicians.
“This is Robin Nixon’s niece Haley, Grandma,” Tyler tried to keep his enthusiasm under control. He wasn’t ready to share his feelings yet. His voice came out sounding flatter than he wanted.
Grandma nodded hello.
Haley stared at Ty, trying to figure out what was going on with the Grahams. It made Ty feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to see his family, especially his grandpa in full voice. He wished she wasn’t there.
“I’ve heard lots about you, Mrs. Graham. My aunt says you make the best cookies in the valley.”
“Thanks, dear.” Grandma’s voice was thin and shaky. Ty figured Grandpa had been in the middle of the rant as they pulled into the laneway.
“We’ve been swimming.” Tyler felt the tension in the air. His grandpa hadn’t said anything yet. He was glaring at Haley and Ty, and staring at the steaming car. His grandpa might say something bad. He hoped it wouldn’t be about Haley. The old guy was pretty insensitive.
“What in tarnation, Tyler! You trying to burn down the farm. Bad enough there’s forest fires in the next valley. All we need is some stupid teenager starting a fire with his stupid car. Next thing you know the whole valley will be on fire. You’ll never get the stupid sewing machine going at this rate.” The old man’s face was red, his eyes fierce. “How’d you goof up this time, kid?”
“Working with a girl for Pete’s sake. She’s half-Nixon, isn’t she, and half-something else? Too good for the likes of you. Her dad’s an oilslicker. She probably hangs out with you because she feels sorry for you, you tub of lard.” He added a string of bad words under his breath about girls in general. Grandpa banged the side of the driver’s door of his truck so hard a whole layer of caked-on dirt fell onto the scorched and dusty yard.
Ty felt like a battering ram had just hit him several times. Between the car’s failure and his own, then his grandpa, he could feel confidence draining from him like so much sawdust.
“You, my boy, are more than one brick short of a load,” Grandpa shouted. Then the old man gunned the motor and drove down the track to the road. Dust and grit filled Tyler’s eyes and mouth.
Ty thrust the plate of cookies into Haley’s hands. “You take them. I’d just choke on them.”
“Where are you going?” Haley asked. “Your grandpa’s something else.”
“I’m sorry, Haley. I’m so sorry.” Tyler threw his work gloves on the picnic table and headed into the house. He banged the door. He needed to be alone. The car had broken down. Two minutes after they had it going fine. His grandfather’s voice rang inside his head. His head ached and the taste of grit in his mouth was bitter as limestone. He felt like crying.
Why couldn’t he talk back to the old grouch? Why couldn’t he stand up for his best friend, for himself, for their work together on the car?
Chapter 15
Tyler sat on the edge of his rumpled bed. He threw himself full length across the mattress. The springs groaned. He could hear the squirrels scampering on the roof, the whack of a bird’s wing on the window. The timid scratching of mice in the wall between his room and his parent’s echoed through his skull like hail on metal. The house sounded more alive than he did. Something in his core felt dead — as if dousing the fire in the car had doused the fire in his gut, the one that had pushed him so hard most of the summer.
If only his grandfather hadn’t come into the yard, hadn’t opened his big trap, hadn’t reminded Tyler of who he really was — not some knight in shining armour repairing a castle for a Princess — but a stupid kid trying to do an impossible job with a crippled hulk of a car. He’d even dragged Haley Nixon into it. She was about to find out what he was made of — not much “stamina or stick-to-activity,” his grandpa would say, a real limp-wristed lout. He could hear the old man’s jibes in his head without the man being anywhere near him.
Ty pounded the pillow with his fist. He lay there for he didn’t know how long. Lately he’d been so used to doing things, fixing things, riding or running, he couldn’t lie still. A blue funk wouldn’t work for him. He heaved a big sigh and walked over to the window. Haley stood staring at Princess, chewing her bottom lip. She had two of Grandma’s cookies in her left hand. A glass of milk sat on the picnic table. She gave the left back tire a kick with her sneaker.
He should call out to her, tell her he was sorry that his grandpa had said so many cruel things, sorry he couldn’t talk back to the old coot. They had had such a good time at the lake. The car had run for a few minutes. It had actually run.
Ty watched like a foreign spy as Haley ate her cookies and drank her milk. She wiped her hands on her damp jeans. She stood for a few minutes looking at the house, waiting to see if he were coming back out. He wanted to but he couldn’t face her. Somehow telling her about his ghost and then having the car break down had worked out wrong. Grahams didn’t tell their secrets. Grahams didn’t admit defeat. Having his grandpa yell at him in front of her had made things worse. Haley would think he was a clutz, a bozo, a stupid country kid, or a freak of nature.
Haley shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her bike. She disappeared around the side of the house on the lane. Ty was sorry and glad to see her go.
He leaned on the window ledge. As he stared at the car, willing it to reveal its problems to him, his mother came out with a small bag in her right hand. She picked up the milk glass and took it back in the house. Her voice rose in the stairwell. “I’m going for a walk, Ty.”
He hollered “Okay!” through the window and watched as she disappeared around the front of the house. She’d get the mail and go for her walk. He wondered where she went most of the time. She said she went up the hill. Was she going up to Uncle Scott’s trailer? What did she take with her? She always had a bag with her, a canvas book bag from the library in Benton. He willed her to be safe. All paths in this area took paying attention. There was summer traffic on the road and steep trails on the mountain. For years he had been reminded of the dangers beyond the yard. At least lately his mother had been going out more.
He peeled off his soggy cut-offs and hung them over the railing by the stairs. Then he remembered the ring. He dug it out of the pocket and took it with him over to the window. He sat it on the ledge while he pulled on clean jeans and a Volkswagen T-shirt that Robin Nixon had given him. He tried once more to decipher the other initials on the inside of the ring. He figured he would drop it in that jewellery dip his mom had for her fancy silverware that they never used. Ty slipped the ring back on his finger.
He looked across the empty farmyard to his precious wreck and the open garage behind it. Even the dog had gone from view. What was he going to do next with the stubborn thing? Over the past few weeks he had tinkered and tightened everything he could reach. If Princess needed a new motor, he’d be in deep trouble. Already he would have to replace all the burnt wires and the fuel lines.
Suddenly a boy on a bicycle came wheeling into the yard. For a fleeting second Ty stood completely still. The boy looked like the ghost. But ghosts don’t ride bicycles. Pale jeans, pale blue jean shirt half-tucked in. The kid leaned the bike against the picnic table and walked over to the
car. He made his way around to the back and began to stick his head into the open hatch.
Ty called out, “What do you want? Don’t touch anything.” He ran down the stairs and out into the yard. He felt blood rush to his ears and his head. “Ben?”
Ben Beaton’s pale face turned pasty. “Hi, Ty. How’s it going?”
Ty was aching to ask the kid who he thought he was, coming into the yard uninvited, unannounced, especially after all the damage he’d already done.
“Dougie’s gone to fight the forest fire on the other side of the mountain.”
Ty shrugged. “I would too if I were older.”
Ben nodded. He patted the roof of the car. Ty jerked as if the fingers and palm had struck him. He remembered all the schoolyard fights he’d had with the Beaton boys. What was Ben doing here?
“Get help from Ralph Ferris, do you?”
Ty nodded. “He sold me the parts. He knows a heck of a lot about cars, does Ralph.”
“Trust a Ferret, they’re all know-it-alls.” Ben’s sneakered left foot pawed the loose dirt by the back of the car. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets. “If you need any help, I’ve got plenty of time on my hands now that Dougie’s gone.”
Ty glanced at Ben sideways. What was this then? “It’s pretty finicky work. It’s not like working on an old truck. The wiring is complicated, and the rubber gaskets and hoses are wound around like garter snakes. It’s surprising how many screws, nuts, and bolts there are. You have to be nearly double-jointed to get under and fix anything.”
“You’ve got it going though, haven’t you? Lynette says she saw you and the Nixon girl driving it down the track to the beach. She went by in Marvin’s motorboat.” Ben sat on the old picnic table. He scratched his scalp and put a blue tractor cap back on his head. He lifted his head and looked right at Ty. His eyes were really blue. Ty had never noticed them before. Ty thought of his mother’s eyes and Uncle Scott’s eyes and the ghost’s eyes. They were alike. What was a Beaton doing with eyes like that?
The Ghost in the Machine Page 9