Chapter 49

Goose turned to me when a fife and drum band started by.

“Guess what I see.”

“I thought so.”

“Playing a fife,” he said. “Like, he would have two hundred years ago.”

“Even before Jefferson and Daniel’s time.”

“Yes. He was there, and then he wasn’t.”

“Samuel,” I wanted to say. Goose’s smile gave me encouragement. “Samuel. I think his name is Samuel.”

“We’re good at this together. There’s Steve!”

“Steve a ghost?”

“Steve, the EMT.” Goose waved, but Steve, playing drums in the same band, looked straight ahead, like a pro.

Goose called him after the parade, as we wandered the periphery of the fair, more spectating than participating. Rip and Carrie were on the Ferris wheel when Steve got back to us. He wasn’t far, so he met us there, and we all waved when the ride paused with Carrie and Nami at the top, in front of Rip, being rocked furiously by some total stranger in the car right behind.

“I didn’t know you were in a band,” Goose said to Steve.