Read Online As Simple as It Seems by Sarah Weeks - Free Book Online Page B

spin. I’d gone to church with my parents plenty of Sundays, but I never really listened when Reverend Fyfe delivered his sermons. He used too many big words, and his deep rumbling voice made me feel sleepy. I had no idea what the rules were about getting into heaven, let alone reincarnation. I was beginning to wonder if I’d bitten off more than I could chew with this whole pretending-to-be-a-ghost thing.
    â€œLook,” I said, handing the empty bottle back to Pooch, “I think there’s something we’d better get straight here. Ghosts don’t like to talk about death.”
    â€œReally?” he said. I could tell he was disappointed.
    â€œThere must be other things you’re interested in.”
    He thought for a minute.
    â€œDinosaurs.”
    Not a favorite subject of mine.
    â€œAnything else?”
    â€œI like to build stuff,” he said. “I’m pretty good at it too. I made the Empire State Building out of marshmallows and toothpicks once. Too bad I don’t have it anymore—you could eat it for dinner. At least the marshmallow part.”
    At the mention of food, my stomach grumbled. That peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich I’d eaten earlier was beginning to wear off. However, my concern about the rumbling in my stomach was overshadowed by my excitement about what Pooch had just revealed.
    â€œIf you’re good at building things, does that mean you’re good at fixing things too?” I asked.
    â€œI guess so.”
    â€œIf I show you something, do you promise not to tell anybody?” I said.
    Pooch used his index finger to draw a little X over the pocket of his shirt.
    â€œCross my heart and hope to die,” he said.
    The words were barely out when he clapped his hand over his mouth.
    â€œSorry,” he told me. “I didn’t mean to say that part about dying.”
    I had to laugh. He had the exact same guilty look on his face that Jack always got when we caught him sleeping on the couch or eating cat food out of Honey’s dish.
    â€œDon’t worry. That doesn’t count,” I told Pooch. “It’s just an expression.”
    Pooch looked relieved.
    â€œAll I was trying to say was that I won’t tell anybody,” he said. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
    â€œIn that case,” I told him, “follow me.”
    And I led him into the tall weeds.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Little Boat
    Pooch gave a low whistle of appreciation when he saw the boat.
    â€œIs it yours?” he asked, resting his hands on the side.
    â€œYou know what they say. Finders keepers…”
    â€œLosers weepers,” he said, finishing the thought.
    We were interrupted by a commotion in some nearby bushes. A few seconds later a rabbit came shooting out into the open, followed by Jack in hot pursuit, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.
    â€œLook at him go!” Pooch shouted.
    They rounded a curve, but just as Jack was closing in, the rabbit zigged, then zagged, then bolted back into the bushes. Jack skidded to a stop, lost his balance, and fell over onto his hip. By the time he’d struggled back to his feet, the rabbit was long gone. Jack stoodstaring after it, panting hard.
    â€œDid you see that?” cried Pooch, “He came this close to catching that thing.”
    â€œTrust me, the only thing Jack ever catches is a face full of skunk squirt,” I said.
    Pooch’s eyebrows bunched up.
    â€œDoes he belong to you?” he asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that dog before.”
    I’d forgotten that Pooch and Jack had already met.
    â€œHe’s not mine,” I said, figuring it would be easier to deny it than to have to explain how a ghost could have a pet. “The only reason I know his name is because he belongs to someone who lives around here and I hear them calling him sometimes.”
    â€œOh,” said Pooch. “Do you know what happened