Read Online Steinbeck’s Ghost by Lewis Buzbee - Free Book Online

this out to Hil.
    “Yeah,” he said. “You know, the more we talk about it, the weirder this place gets. I’m gonna blame you, T. You started it. Because of you, I know I live on this really strange planet. Before you, I was perfectly happy here.”
    They agreed, though, that it was better to travel this weird planet together. With every block, Hil and Travis expanded their ideas for the Camazotz video game, imagining the unexpected worlds behind the dull facade of each neighbor’s house.

    Travis and his parents ate at Sheila’s again that weekend. Halfway through their burgers and fries, Travis brought up the library closing. He knew he had to be careful.
    “You hear about the library?” he asked them.
    That seemed safe enough.
    “I know,” his dad said. “It’s horrible. I love that place.”
    “Do you remember,” his mom said, “how we used to go there every Saturday?”
    “Of course I remember,” he said. She talked about the library as if it were an extinct dinosaur. “The last time we went was only a few months ago.
Before
we moved.”
    “Maybe we could go again,” his dad said. “That’d be nice.”
    “It’s just so stupid,” Travis said. “How could they close the library? I mean, it’s the library. People need to have free access to all that information.”
    His mom looked at him with really big eyes.
    “That’s true,” his dad said. “But you know, the taxes are already so high. There’s just not enough money.”
    “But that’s not the whole picture,” Travis said. “The state’s cut off so much money we used to get from them for things like fire and police. And libraries. The state’s making us pay for their poor planning.”
    His mom’s eyes got a lot smaller then; Travis couldn’t see into them. His dad looked at his mom, but she only looked at Travis.
    “Good point. I guess,” his dad said. “But you have to understand, Travis.” This was a bad sign. If his dad used his name, and started with “you have to understand,” he was obviously going to say something Travis did not want to understand.
    “The world’s changing,” his dad went on, “and there’s just not that kind of money anymore. At least not around here. We pay taxes, and they’re killing us. I’ll miss the library, too; I wish we could save it. But I’m sorry to say, I don’t think we can. It’s a different world nowadays, Travis. I don’t like it either.”
    His dad looked out at Main Street. Travis looked, too. The world, at least here in Oldtown, looked pretty much the same.
    “But we have to do something,” Travis said. He felt himself rising up in his chair. “I mean, we have to try. We love the library.”
    “Well, yes, we do. I know that.” His dad turned to him. “But what?”
    “We can have a car wash.”
    Travis’s mom and dad looked at each other, a weird surprise on their faces, as if Travis had just sprouted ears and a tail.
    “Ooooo-kaaaay,” they cooed.
    Travis spelled it out for them, the car wash plan. He made sure they knew it wasn’t only about the money, but publicity, too.
    Instantly his dad got into it, and Travis felt the old spark he used to see in his dad,
before
the new job. On one of the restaurant’s paper place mats they sketched out everything.
    “She,” his dad called, and Sheila, the owner and his dad’s old boss, came out from behind the long wooden bar. Travis had always loved the bar here, not just for the cherries and olives his dad used to give him, but because it looked old enough to belong in a Wild West saloon.
    “What’s up, Don, Lyndsay? And Travis, my handsome man. You look like you need a favor. Don’t ask for your job back, though. I got enough trouble.”
    She put a glass of olives and cherries in front of Travis. Sheila was pretty and funny and smart, and she always treated Travis like a friend.
    “Towels, She,” his dad said. “We need lots of towels.”
    Sheila agreed to rent more towels from her supplier— the bar used about