Dad In Spirit Chapters 5-6

For ages 8 & Up. A fun family story for bedtime or anytime. Read by A. LaFaye. In this story, we follow Ebon Jones, a young boy who thinks he's the ordinary kid in an extraordinary family until his Dad falls into a coma and he starts to hear his Dad's voice. Will he be able to solve the mystery of why his dad has fallen alseep and is speaking inside his head? Listen in and find out.

Transcript

Hello,

This is A.

Le Fay with Sylvanosity.

Today we're going to read chapters 5 and 6 from Dad in Spirit.

I hope you'll enjoy it.

Before we begin,

I'd like to ask you to relax,

To get a sense of your body,

Its weight,

Its comfort level.

Take in a deep breath.

Let it out slowly.

For a moment,

I'd like you to think about your normal,

Because the truth is,

There's no such thing as normal.

And,

Often,

Are normal changes.

Sometimes,

There are very difficult situations that are nothing,

But nothing like our normal.

And if you're experiencing something like that,

I'd like you to consider the Chinese saying,

This too shall pass.

Which means,

If you're experiencing something difficult,

Consider the fact it will not last forever.

On the other hand,

If you're experiencing something wonderful,

Consider the fact it will probably not last.

So you should enjoy it,

Record it,

And remember it in those more difficult times.

The most important thing about observing your normal is,

What are you learning from it?

How can you use what you learn to live a happier,

Healthier,

More just life?

Hmm,

I wonder.

Well,

While you're considering that in the back of your mind,

Let's start with Chapter 5 of Dad and Spirit.

Oh,

Hmm.

Did you perhaps start with this chapter of the story?

Well,

You can go back and listen to the earlier chapters,

Which are also available for your listening pleasure.

Or you could jump in and just see where this story leads you.

This chapter is called Nothing Normal About It.

Mom gave us kids the order to go on with our lives as if nothing had gone wrong.

Mom even made us breakfast and set out our school lunches,

Like she did on every other Friday.

She wanted to smash the paper bags she lined up on the counter until they turned into a gooey mush.

Jolie had the right attitude.

She wore all black and refused to eat breakfast.

I followed her lead and didn't eat anything.

Samuel dived into a bowl of applesauce with pancake bits,

But I couldn't watch.

I wanted to find BJ.

Most mornings,

BJ hung out in her tree house.

After Dad built us a castle,

Her Dad,

Who I had to call Mr.

Taggart instead of.

.

.

He insisted on making something for BJ.

He tried to top Dad.

BJ had a real house in a tree.

The place had everything,

Two rooms plus a porch,

Multi-plane windows with shutters,

A glass handle on the front door,

And siding.

Her Mom,

Who let me call her Rita,

Even made a flower box and planted ivy in it,

Then hung it off the little porch.

The place didn't even have a ladder.

A staircase led up to the porch.

BJ saw me coming across her yard and shouted from the porch,

You okay?

What a dumb question.

I didn't bother to answer her.

Just walked up the steps,

Sat down on the bench,

And stared at her for being stupid.

I'm sorry,

Eben.

She held her arms out.

Need a hug?

Her Grandma Helen had to be the huggest person in the world.

After her,

Hugs became BJ's solution to everything.

I didn't move,

So I guess she figured I didn't like the idea.

She sat next to me.

What happened?

He fell asleep,

I whispered.

Did he hit his head?

I don't want to talk about it.

Okay.

BJ sat up and her,

All take charge away,

Then said,

Let's change the subject.

Will they open Hamilton Hall tonight?

I'd forgotten about Hamilton Hall.

Only Dad could run the special effects,

And that place meant more to Dad than Christmas presents did to Samuel.

He lived all year for it.

I couldn't let all of Dad's hard work go to waste.

I knew he kept a guidebook of all his haunting plans inside the house.

He scribbled in it at night when he thought we were asleep.

Okay,

I'll admit it.

I was almost as good a spy as Dad was.

I'd seen the book sitting on a shelf or a ladder behind him when I made deliveries to Hamilton Hall.

I enjoyed the surprises in Hamilton Hall too much to sneak a real peek on the plans.

But now I had to.

We've got to find Dad's book.

We?

Do what?

BJ stammered.

Ever since kindergarten,

She refused to go into Hamilton Hall.

Back then,

She'd gotten lost in the dark and went into a fake dining room where a family of headless people ate dinner of mushy brains.

Dad called it the Food for Thought room.

That girl flew out of the house screaming like the devil was chasing her.

We had to set an age limit on the place after that.

Come on,

I leaned into her.

The place won't be scary if we know all of Dad's tricks.

But we have to find the book first.

It's daylight.

Besides,

The place is only scary when Dad turns on all the special effects.

The hidden doors and secret passages just make the place into a maze.

Treat it like a life-size puzzle.

Ebon,

I still have nightmares about that place.

Please,

I squeezed her arm.

I have to do something.

BJ stared at me.

I could feel her arm shake in my hands.

Okay.

Do we have a deal?

I held up my hand.

Mom called from below.

Ebon,

Belinda Jane,

We have to leave.

I got up to go,

But BJ grabbed me saying,

What do we tell our parents?

I thought on it a bit,

Then said,

We'll go to school,

Then cut out before the first bell and meet back at Hamilton Hall.

That's a plan.

BJ and I shook hands,

Then headed for my driveway.

As soon as we got to school,

BJ and I ran down to the basement.

I ducked into the boys' bathroom by the art room.

She ducked into the girls'.

I stood in the tank of the last toilet that wiggled my way out the window.

We came out onto the teachers' parking lot and cut through the trees in the park behind the school.

From there,

We caught a bus home.

I grabbed Dad's keys from the hook by the phone in the kitchen and I tailed it to Hamilton Hall.

BJ paced me to the backyard.

I stood by the door hunting for the right keys,

Saying,

Come on,

BJ,

It won't be scary in the daytime.

Have you been in there?

I hadn't.

Dad never let us in.

I felt like lying to her,

But then I wandered around like an idiot.

After I opened the door,

She'd know the truth.

No,

I can't go.

BJ looked like she would run home at the first creaking floorboard,

So I said,

Just let me go in and have a look around.

I'll come back and get you.

Oh,

Okay.

The back door sounded like the hull hatch of a sunken ship.

It creaked so much.

But Dad rusted hinges on purpose.

BJ backed away.

I peered inside.

The first room looked like a dark closet,

All the walls close in and painted black.

I hated dark closets.

We had bats in our house,

And I once pulled a pair of shoes off the shelf in our hall closet only to find that a bat had nested in my left shoe.

The thing flew right up into my face,

And I flew right out of the house.

I'm no screaming scaredy,

But a bat in the face would make a soldier run.

Holding my breath,

I stepped inside Hamilton Hall.

The front door under my right foot sank and slam.

The door closed.

I should have known better.

In a flash,

BJ started pounding on the door.

Are you okay?

Well,

That pounding only freaked me out more.

Here I stood in a pitch black room with no windows,

And BJ grumbed on the door like a Frankenstein monster locked in a dungeon.

Cut it out,

I shouted.

Dad just rigged the door.

You're okay?

Fine.

Actually,

It felt like someone stood behind me,

Leaning over my shoulder.

I got that feeling a lot when I went to the bathroom at night,

Like someone followed me there.

Dad said some folks feel the walls when they walk.

I don't mean they touch them.

He claims the heat off their body floats out,

Touches the wall,

Then comes back and taps them.

I guess it's a trick some blind people use to help them navigate.

Dad picked all of this up when he did research for a novel about a woman who goes blind in a car accident.

I just wished I had a blind person there to help me get out of this room.

BJ wasn't able to budge the door from her side,

And I couldn't even find a handle.

Should I go get help?

She asked.

No,

I'll figure it out.

I put my hands out flat on the wall to feel for a secret panel or a lever and tapped around with my feet to look for the same thing in the floor.

Okay,

Dad,

Where did you hide the exit?

I asked the air.

For a second,

I thought I heard static.

Did Dad leave a walkie-talkie behind?

Groping around,

I found one of Mom's gargoyles.

The long tongue told me it had to be the one she made in two pieces so the tongue could grow longer.

She called him Pinocchio Jr.

With the tongue a yank,

And a door opened to my left.

I couldn't see a thing.

Did something move?

BJ asked.

She must have her ears to the door.

Yep,

A door opened.

What can you see?

Nothing.

Why didn't we bring a flashlight?

Now you think of it.

I stepped toward the door,

Tapping in front of me to test the floor for triggers.

I could have used that blind lady's cane.

The hallway walls felt rough onto my fingertips like the paint had begun to peel.

Come on,

Dad.

There has to be a light switch here somewhere.

Down the hall,

On the right-hand side,

Behind the painting.

The words drifted into my head.

I could have thought of them,

But they felt stiff and kind of weird,

Like a mental pair of new shoes.

Rushing forward,

My hand on the wall,

I bumped into the painting.

Sure enough,

Right in the center,

I found a light switch.

Flicking it,

I half expected to see Dad,

Standing there smiling.

But I only saw peeling paint,

Cobwebs,

And a dusty floor.

Dad,

Imported spiders.

With the light on,

I went back to the closet room and hunted for the door spring.

Dad had hidden it behind a baseboard.

I found the panel with my fingers.

B.

J.

Stood in the open doorway peeking in.

But she did it while leaning back instead of forward.

Is it safe?

I told you.

None of the equipment is turned on.

There are only little surprises,

Like closing doors and hidden light switches.

It'll be okay.

I took B.

J.

's hand.

She felt safe enough to step inside.

We headed down the hallway.

Where are we going to find this book of your dad's?

The control room.

Where was that last year?

I have no idea.

Dad never gave away his secrets.

The hallway didn't have any other visible exits,

So I had to hunt for a door one-handed.

B.

J.

Didn't want to let go of the other one.

We won't find anything dead,

Will we?

No.

Dad went for realism,

Not homicide.

Not even of bugs.

Cripes.

We couldn't kill spiders because he wanted to relocate them to Hamilton Hall.

I wondered if I should ask out loud where to find the doors,

But I still wasn't sure if I'd really heard anything the last time.

That could have been a good guess.

And how could Dad have told me where he'd hidden that switch anyway?

Besides,

If I asked him out loud,

B.

J.

Would think I'd gone nuts.

Or maybe just that I'd started to think out loud.

Where could that door be,

I said?

Who knows with your dad?

He'd probably put it in the ceiling.

Now there's an idea.

I heard a voice in my head,

Loud and clear.

But it's not there,

Is it,

Dad?

What?

B.

J.

Turned to me.

I felt embarrassed.

It's not there,

Is it,

Bud?

Oh.

Nope,

Said the voice.

My mind had taken a turn toward the funny farm.

Worrying about Dad made me wish he could be there so hard that I thought I could hear him in my own head.

Maybe if I talked about it,

The thoughts would go away.

Then again,

Did I want them to?

What drained you,

B.

J.

Asked?

You look all tired out.

Just worried about Dad.

Maybe we should go visit him.

When we find the book.

I went faster,

Rubbing the wall for another secret latch.

Feeling like I had ice cubes in my chest.

I never felt so scared.

I wanted Dad to be there to tell me it'd be okay.

Or Mom walking with her arms around me,

Like she did when she took me through the haunted house.

She went through first and scattered everything out.

Then came back and took us kids through one at a time.

She acted as our spirit guide,

Shielding us when things got too scary.

Hugging us when we panicked.

But always letting us lead the way.

Found it!

B.

J.

Stuck her fingers into a crack in the wall.

And the door sprang open to reveal a spiral staircase winding down into darkness.

I'm not going down there.

Let's go get a flashlight,

Then go down.

Right!

B.

J.

Ran to her treehouse to get one.

We never knew when we'd have to make a bathroom run back to the house at night.

The place had no electricity.

Had electricity,

But no job.

I stood there alone,

Feeling the shadow of a person behind me.

Are you here,

Dad?

Silence.

I spun in a circle.

Dad?

No,

Just me.

B.

J.

Held up a flashlight.

Right.

I took it,

Turned it on,

Then headed down the stairs.

The stairs stopped at a wall,

But I found the switch really quickly.

And we came out in the library.

Don't touch any books.

I'd fallen into that trap enough times.

And I'd been spun around into another room.

We hunted in one room,

Then another,

Sprung traps,

Fell into hidden holes,

Landed on piles of mattresses,

And searched and groped for hours.

I got so hungry,

Even my spit tasted good.

B.

J.

Kept asking if we could give up,

But I had to find the book.

After the thirteenth door leading into a brick wall,

I'd had enough.

Backing into the center of the room,

I shouted,

Where is the darn book?

B.

J.

Stared at me like I'd gone nuts.

But clear as if I'd thought it up myself,

I heard.

All you had to do was ask.

So tell me,

I shouted.

Go in the kitchen,

Open the fridge,

And take out the milk.

Laughing,

I realized just how silly I was being for thinking Dad could actually talk to me through my thoughts.

Who did I think he was?

Harry Houdini's mother?

Dad said she'd promised to talk to Houdini from the grave.

Who are you yelling at?

B.

J.

Asked.

Nobody.

I'm just gone goofy with hunger.

Let's find a door leading out.

I tried to retrace our steps that brought us back through the kitchen,

Passing the fridge.

I had the urge to open it.

But what would that mean?

Dad could talk to me?

From where?

Was he dead?

Evan,

You're shaking.

I'm just hungry,

I told B.

J.

As I grabbed the fridge handle.

Is that fridge hooked up?

Let's see.

Only a pitcher of milk sat inside.

Milk?

B.

J.

Leaned in to grab it.

I'm so thirsty.

When she tried to take the milk out of the fridge,

The whole shelf came forward.

As the shelf moved,

A tray lowered from the top of the fridge.

A key slid to the bottom of the tray.

Leave it to your dad.

She shook her head.

She said,

Grabbing the key,

I knew.

Dad had spoken to me.

But how?

I had to see him.

Making sure.

All through the bus ride to the hospital,

B.

J.

Tried to talk to me.

Get me to tell her what had happened.

But I couldn't say anything.

My thoughts spun around so fast that everything on the bus seemed to be spinning.

Evan,

Shouldn't we call your mom?

I think I shook my head.

I heard the driver say,

Fairfield Hospital.

Jumping up,

I ran for the door.

I had to sneak into Dad's room.

All the slinking around Hamilton Hall had made me into an old pro at getting into secret places.

Alive and still asleep,

Dad lay there in bed like he'd just checked into a hotel for the night.

Except for the bouquets of flowers surrounding his bed.

His room could have been inside any Holiday Inn.

I stood back and stared,

Afraid to approach him.

A huge pot of planted flowers sat on his bed stand.

From Mom,

I thought.

She knew how cut flowers made Dad sad.

He started snoring,

And I had to laugh.

I ran up and took his hand.

Warm and soft.

It felt like it did when he held mine.

You're okay.

Why wouldn't I be?

This time Dad spoke.

He really spoke.

I could hear him as clearly as if he stood next to me.

But his lips didn't move.

What happened?

B.

J.

Came closer.

Didn't you hear that?

What?

Dad,

He spoke to me.

I'm calling your Mom.

B.

J.

Rushed out of the room.

I can hear you,

Dad.

Come on,

Wake up.

Wake up?

When did I fall asleep?

Before I could answer.

Dad,

The whole room got wobbly.

A nurse rushed in to get me out of there.

I begged her to let me stay as I gripped the bar in Dad's bed to keep me studying.

I'd heard,

Dad.

I really had.

But everything shrank into this little black dot before I had time to prove it.

Have you ever had something happen to you that you couldn't believe was real?

And when you tried to tell someone else,

They didn't believe you?

Or they weren't sure?

Hmm.

That can be a tough situation to be in,

That's for sure.

And I know you may be wondering,

But what happens next?

Don't worry.

I'll keep reading Dad in spirit with you.

But for now,

I'd like you to join me.

In a nice relaxing yawn,

And a stretch,

And a slight moving about,

And a settling in for a good night's sleep,

Or maybe a nap,

Or maybe you're reading a book of your own.

Whatever it is,

I hope you enjoy it.

This has been A.

Le Fay from Sylvanasity.

You know,

If you haven't already,

I hope you'll visit me on Facebook,

Instagram,

Or Twitter.

You could also visit my website if you like.

A.

Le Fay.

It's an easy name to remember.

It rhymes,

I know.

How silly.

But for now,

I'll say goodbye.

And I'll see you next time.

Thank you for listening.

Reviews

Thank U for reading your wonderful story. I look for any updates, I'm still learning how to find my way around since they changed everything around. Much Appreciation

This one was soooo good! When r u making the next?!