Spirit Caller 01 - Spirits Rising

me. “
    He pulled the frying pan from the heat and put it down on a pot cloth on the counter. “Why not just do it in Manny’s yard?”
    “I’m not very powerful.”
    Jeremy began to protest, but I put up a hand. “I’m not talking down myself, I’m just being honest. Really, the only power I have is the ability to sense the other around us. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” I gave a shrug. “And I’d rather stab my eyes out with that fork than ask David O’Toole if I can practice witchcraft in his front yard.”
    Jeremy chuckled. “I hear ya.”
    “It isn’t legal to burn witches at the stake here, is it?”
    “The Mounties frown on that sort of thing.” He cracked four eggs into the frying pan. They floated on the bacon grease, splattering and popping.
    Mmm .
    “I want to help,” Mrs Saunders said, walking into the kitchen, one hand bracing her lower back.
    "You okay, Mrs. Saunders?” Jeremy asked.
    She nodded her head. “I haven’t run since I was chasing youngsters! So, can I help with the witchcraft?”
    I gave her a stern look. “There will be no witchcraft. I just want you to do what you did at my place.”
    “All I did was say my Hail Mary.”
    I snatched a piece of bacon off Jeremy’s plate and snapped it in half. I munched. Mmm so delicious . I never eat bacon, it being fattening and I being on a diet. “Well, just keep on Hail Marying. You want to come help, Jeremy?”
    “Of course.” He pulled a plate down from the cupboard and offered it to me. “Mrs. Saunders asked me to make extra for you, too.”
    I eyed the old lady, who returned my glare with a much-too-innocent expression. “Such a good boy. I’m going to clean up the garbage in the yard while the bread is baking. No hanky-panky while I’m gone, you two,” she said, wagging her finger at me. She traded her cane for her walker, but not before slapping Jeremy’s behind. “Put some pants on, b’ye. People will think you spent the night with me!”
    I laughed when she left the house and shook my head, though a little heat did rise in my cheeks. Hanky-panky was out of my future for a long, long time at my current rate.
    “She still cleans her own garden?”
    “I usually come over and do the bulk of it. She still weeds her tulips at the front of the house, though.” I chewed on a piece of bacon and moaned at the greasy, smoked goodness. “I look after our vegetable garden, but she often comes out with me. She sits in the car and yells at me.” I sighed, though I did let a little chuckle enter my voice. “Some days, it’s like being thirteen all over again.”
    Jeremy grew serious. “She’s lucky to have you lookin’ out for her.”
    I looked away. “Anyone would do the same for her.”
    “True,” he admitted, “but I think she’d rather you doing it than anyone.”
    We ate in silence, leaning against the kitchen counter eating our food. Normally, our silences were comfortable, the result of a strong friendship that didn’t require endless nervous prattle. It wasn’t until Jeremy spoke that I’d realized how different this silence was, the kind that was thick and uncomfortable.
    “Last night was crazy,” he said in a low voice.
    I nodded, slicing up my eggs with my fork. “I’m still a little shaky.”
    “Your neighbour, Tobias?”
    I nodded.
    “He said he’d seen a ghost when he was sixteen. Scared the life out of him. Then, both his sons said they’d once found a Beothuk burial site while they were out cutting firewood and a ghost came out of the ground and started talking to them.”
    I stirred my eggs around my plate a little, the bright-yellow yolks mixing with the brown bacon bits and fat on my plate. “Mrs. Saunders said people didn’t even bother digging up the giant mounds by L’Anse Aux Meadows because folks just assumed they were burial graves and figured the dead were best left alone.” I blew out a breath. “A friggin’ Viking settlement was here and people just left it alone.” I shook my head.
    “Makes it easier for people to accept what’s happening.”
    I shrugged and shovelled eggs in my mouth. I watched Mrs. Saunders walk past the open porch door twice, peering in at us, a wicked smile on her face. What a brat! I scraped my plate into the garbage and put the dish in the sink. I turned on the faucet and began washing dishes.
    “What’s wrong?”
    I was silent for a moment, not really sure what was crawling under my skin. “I’ve never felt like I