"It could be something else you're allergic to that moves around, like a bird or mouse," Sarah said. "It would be good to find out for sure." "But if it is a ghost, I don't want to find it," I said. "Especially if I'm allergic to it." "Would you rather have it find us?" Sarah asked. "I'm not all that thrilled with either of those choices," I said. She put a hand on my back and pushed me toward the creek. "Come on.

It will be fun. Like a video game. Hold your arms up where I can see them. Wow, that really is an ugly rash." We crossed the stream at a shallow spot, stepping on rocks so our sneakers wouldn't get too wet. The rash grew larger and itchier. Sarah's idea was working. Then after we'd walked a little farther, the rash started to fade.

That was good, because I had a hard time keeping myself from scratching it. "We're moving away from the ghost. Try going left," Sarah said. I did. The rash faded more. "It has to be to the right," she said. I turned and realized I was facing an old barn. Sure enough, as I walked closer, the rash grew larger and darker.

And itchier. Please be a bird, I thought. Please be a bird, please be a bird, please be a bird.