Ghost in the Graveyard

It was five o clock on a summer evening. My sisters, Evelyn, Barbara, Sarah, Nell, Christina,and Gina, and my brother Sam and myself were hurrying through our hotdogs and carrot sticks as the sun began to sink. We wanted to take advantage of every second of summer daylight. At the stove Mom supervised our progress, making sure nobody missed anything nutritious, and then finally told us to bring our plates to the sink and do our “jobs.” Evelyn filled the basin with hot water and soap and began scrubbing; Barbara and Sarah cleared the table and wiped away stray ketchup and carrots; Nell swept the floor while Nina, Sam and I tidied up the other rooms. Fifteen minutes and we had all finished except Evelyn, since dishes took the longest of all the chores. Thankfully our good Mom took over the sink and let us go play. We raced outside.
Not far from the back door stood the giant maple tree with the tree house and the giant net that served as a ladder and the sand pile beneath. We gathered there.
Evelyn, being the oldest, said, “I’ll count off. We’ll play Ghost in the Graveyard.”
“I want to count off this time,” said Barbara. She always relished an argument.
“No, let Evelyn do it,” protested Sarah. “Let’s just play.”
Sam and Gina, the youngest, clambered on the swings and soon were sailing away. Nell and I pushed them while Nina, with a twig, poked at a beetle on the tree.
The older girls made a treaty – Barbara would count off but she couldn’t be the first “Ghost.” So we huddled together except the two on the swings who were happily occupied anyway. Barbara started, tapping each shoe and chanting. “Bubble gum bubble gum in a dish, how many pieces do you wish?” The tapped shoe answered, “Five.” “One two three for five,” Barbara counted, and whatever shoe she tapped was out of the circle. This went on and on until only one shoe was left: Nell, as it happened. With a delighted “Yay!” she raced off to hide.
Now the rest of us had to wait. Since the sandpile sat almost in the center of the biggest side yard we all stood around the tree, heads bowed, in case Nelly wanted to hide in the immediate area. Barbara and I rolled out the count: “Onemississippitwomississippithreemississippifourmississippifivemississippisixmississippi" and onwards to “Onehundredmississippi!” It was a generous amount of time, but one ritual remained. Six kids put their hands to their mouths and yelled in chorus: “Apples Oranges Cherry Pie, if not ready holler Aye!” But no “Aye!” answered the call, and we went off in pursuit of the Ghost.
Sam and I ran to our right onto the driveway, crouching quickly to see if the Ghost was lurking under the big blue van or Dad’s green pick-up. Nina and Gina followed and peeked into the woodshed near the back deck. No Ghost. Barbara, Sarah, and Evelyn were scouring the sand pile yard and would be at the front lawn in a moment. I tugged Sammy’s shirt.
“Come on, the Blessed Mother Yard!” I hissed.
The yard on the other side of the gravel driveway displayed a two-foot high statue of Our Lady on a stone slab, surrounded by flat-bladed hostas. On every corner of the yard was a giant bush, perfect hiding spots. Sam sprinted to the farthest bush while I inspected the lilacs clinging to the side of the Red Shed. Still no Ghost, and no one else had screamed out the call yet. Where was Nelly hiding?
Sam reached the far bush, found nothing, and was barreling for the next when he looked up and jerked almost to a halt. He screamed: “Ghost in the Graveyard!” and as he screamed Nelly hurtled from behind the bushes’ fronds and gave chase. Sam switched his momentum towards the driveway and the sand pile with all the speed he could muster. But too late. Even as the others had heard Sam’s yell and were making all haste to the sandpile themselves, I saw that Nell was only a few feet behind her quarry. Soon it was all over. Sam was the next Ghost.